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#i'm not even going to get a summer break y'all
the-music-keeper · 1 year
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The entirety of the Schumann section of the to-do list literally got done this morning. Like I got up at 7:30, turned my bibliography and thesis in about two and a half hours later, and skimmed the readings right before class.
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You know what got turned in this afternoon literally three minutes before Baroque class started? The freaking final paper.
Did anything else for that class get done? Nope. Thankfully I didn't need any of it for the lecture.
Now. I'm giving myself a week to prepare my final Schumann paper (the paper is due on May 4 but it will help me tremendously if I can base the May 1 presentation off my paper) and the same amount of time to hopefully go ahead and turn in my final exam for the Baroque class (which, God help me, is another 4-7 page paper due May 3). I'm going to take this lesson, apply it, and NOT TURN CRAP IN THREE MINUTES BEFORE THE DEADLINE.
Gosh. I looked at the Baroque paper I turned in again and noticed so many terms I forgot to italicize. I just know I'm going to get a comment about that and I'm just going to be like I KNOW, OKAY. I KNOW. Also I messed up at least one of my footnotes and I'm mad about it.
But at least I got the darn thing turned in on time.
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hoshigray · 4 months
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𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 | satoru gojō
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𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : The start of the spring semester is supposed to be fresh and new, not be cramped up in a closet with your frenemy at a party! And what's worse: you actually like the feeling of his lips on yours!?
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Gojo x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern + college AU - frenemies to lovers - Gojo and reader are at least age 20 - implied that reader is a virgin - first kiss - awakening feelings - virginity loss - kissing/making out in a closet - thigh riding - grinding/humping - sex in shared rooms; college dorms (empty) - breast fondling + sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - orgasm denial- clitoral play (sucking, pinching and swiping) - missionary position - protected sex (psa: wrap it up or get tf up) - pet names (baby, cutie, gorgeous, pretty, princess, sweetie) - cameos: Utahime, Geto, Shoko and Mei Mei - humor bc I'm [not] funny - mention of vaginal pain, spit and tears.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.3k (i'm so sick...)
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: yessirrrr let's get this party started, shall we? >:333 plz enjoy the first part of this series!! and tysm for 5.3k !!! y'all are too kind && happy bday to my gal, jazzy!! hope you enjoyed your special day, jazzy jam c:
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“GO FUCK YOURSELF, SATORU GOJO!”
“BETTER THAN FUCKING YOU, Y/N L/N!”
“They’re at it again already, huh?”
“Yeah, man, it’s going to two o’clock. Might as well enjoy the show.”
College is hard enough as is. The fact that you’re now back for the spring semester is tiring enough, wanting to get these classes over with and wrap this up. Spring, Easter, and Summer break are just right around the corner, the cherry on top for this exhausting second half of your junior year. Those are the end goals!
But alas, the semester just started. The students scramble around buying their textbooks and switching courses around, struggling to make final move-in decisions and already stressing over seasonal depression at this time of year. Spring semester, huh? Same old, same old.
Although there are negatives that make it nerve-racking, there are still good things that come with this junior year. Finally over with winter break, you’re excited to be back to living with your roommates, Utahime, Mei Mei, and Shoko! They’re your girlfriends for a reason; missing hanging and stressing with them as they made your college experience much better than you expected. 
And it doesn’t end there, either! You missed study sessions at the campus café with your second-year peers, Yu Haibara and Kento Nanami. The two best friends always help with your studies whenever you need it. And, of course, you can’t forget about their roommate and your friend, Geto. The tall, raven-haired Biology major is always looking out for you and paying visits to study with Shoko. There was even a time he helped with a mouse situation in your dorm! Poor Utahime that day – saw the rodent when she came out of the shower.
However, you’re not exactly thrilled to see everyone after coming back. You throwing a middle finger at someone on the opposite side of the pathway should be evidence of such. “Oh, go jump off a cliff, Gojo!”
“Hah! I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction!” Satoru Gojo was the direct roommate of Suguru Geto, best friend of his and Shoko, and was the star player of the campus basketball team. But most of all, he’s the kid you despise with every fiber of your being. “I’d be more entertained with you slipping on some ice.”
“Oh, you wish! I saw you slip on some ice yesterday on your way to Professor Yaga’s class.” You puff your chest with pride when you see the white-haired guy suck his teeth in annoyance. “Made my whole day, what a fucking moron. How about slowing down next time? You were late anyway!” 
Snowy brows furrow with a scoff. “God, you really are a perfect roommate for Utahime; the both of you are so tiny and angry at the world around you for no reason.” 
Utahime, standing beside you during this yelling competition, decides to chip in after that remark. She almost popped a vein, “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU SAY, SATORU!?” 
“You heard me!” He barks a laugh at the two of you, turning around to go on his way. “Heard it’s gonna snow later tonight. Be sure to find a nice, big, puffy jacket and some boots so the storm doesn’t sweep you away, Y/n~.”
“I’ll be sure to shove an icicle up your ass before that, you fucker!” You turn on your heel and stomp your way out of the scene, Utahime following your move. “Hmph! Hate his ass so much…”
“Tch, right there with you.” Your roommate sighs heavily to exude the aggression. “But damn, the way you two go at it is worse than mine.” 
She is not wrong; it’s true – everyone within the campus grounds knows how much you and Gojo can’t stand each other. It’s no secret; at least you two make that apparent everywhere you go. This little feud between you started freshman year with you two in the same first-year engagement program. Tiny disagreements turned into narrowed glares, which then pivoted into prominent arguments, and now here we are. 
You hoped that freshman year would be the last you’d ever see of that snow-haired prude. Unfortunately, you were wrong. The year after, you were unhappy to discover he’s best buds and roomies with Geto. And what’s worse is that you were ill-fated to share a class with him every semester — especially this one with Professor Naga for Contemporary Issues. Is this the universe’s way of punishing you for something? For what!?? 
You’ve been a good kid, doing what you can and getting the grades that brought you merit and accolades. So, you don’t get how this one guy with his stupid round sunglasses is getting under your skin. So fucking annoying…
You hate him. You hate everything about him. From the way he immediately gives you a smug look when you walk into the room and take your seat right in front of him. The way he surprises you from behind because he finds your reactions amusing. The way he relentlessly calls your name to get your attention when you’re obviously ignoring him, even when he doesn’t need you for something. 
It all makes you heated. You hate Satoru Gojo. I hate him so much!
“…hear me?…Y/n?”
You blink, realizing you were too deep in thought for your ears to pick up Utahime calling out for you. “Hmm? What’s up?”
She pulls out the keys to the dorm from her coat. “So? You coming along?”
Huh? “Where are you going?”
“To Haibara’s get-together?”
Oh, hell no! “No, Uta. I think I’ll stay here.”
The dark-haired girl watches you walk past her when she opens the door. “Why?? It’s the first Friday night of the semester; it’s not gonna be a big party or anything. Just close friends.”
“What are we talking about?” Shoko chimes in after leaving the bathroom, brushing her teeth with sleepy eyes. “Haibara’s thing tonight?”
Utahime nods hurriedly at the drowsy nursing student. “I’m trying to convince Y/n to come!”
The brunette shrugs at the comment, following you two to your room. “Well, it’s not like I’m going either.” She snickers when the eldest dark-haired roommate turns to her with a hurt expression. “Sorry. I already have notes I need to get behind on. You can tell the guys I said hi, though.” 
Another sigh leaves Utahime as she puts her bag on her desk. “…Mei Meiiiii,”
“Yesss~?” The fourth roommate calls out from the hallway. 
“Are you going?”
“Mmmm, not sure.” Mei Mei comes to the doorframe, her long silverish-blue hair done in pigtails with a green skin-care mask covering her face. “Got a meeting for my club to head to later. And even then, it might still be a while for me to join, depending on if people are hanging out afterward.” 
Now is when the Utahime whines to her hands before she turns back to you, sitting on your bed. “Y/n, please, come with me!”
You don’t give in to her cries. “No, think I’ll stay and keep Shoko company.”
But she doesn’t give up. “Please! It’s just a small group of friends and maybe a few classmates Haibara’s familiar with. No biggie!”
“Small group of friends, huh?”
“Yes!”
“You know who else are his friends?” You lift a brow when she does the same. “His roommates: Nanami, Geto, and—“
“Gojo…” Utahime completes your sentence in defeat, understanding why your reluctance is present. 
“Sorry, Uta. Maybe next time.” 
Now, you’re not saying you’ve never been to the guys’ place before; they reside on the other side of campus where senior housing is (Nanami’s pick because he’s an RA). However, it’s the first Friday night of the semester. Meaning it’s the first free weekend for most students. And you’re going to ruin everyone’s fun by being in the same place as Gojo? Yeah, no thanks.
That is until Mei Mei says, “Actually, I heard from a friend that the basketball team are planning on going out somewhere tonight.”
Shoko adds on while taking out her toothbrush to appropriately speak to her friends. “Yeah, now that you mention it, Gojo told me he probably won’t be at the place in the first place. Something about meeting up with a group for one of his classes.”
All separate reasons from different accounts, yet that only fuels Utahime to beam out of her mini-depression and face you once more. “See? Gojo won’t be there by the time we get there! He’ll be busy with a group project – or whatever – and will hang with his sports buddies. So, you up for it now?” 
Your brows trench down. “I…I don’t know—“
If there’s one thing the oldest roommate is good at, it’s not giving up. And it’s because she bats her pretty brown eyes and gives you the most grandiose pleading puppy face she can. It’s the oldest manipulation tactic in the book, yet it works by making your heart cringe.
Of all things to be dragged into now, it was a party? The semester just started, and you haven’t even touched a single piece of reading yet. Is this a good idea? You can’t really go based on the perspective of your roommates because what’ll happen on the off-chance you do see Gojo? The thought of it is already headache-inducing.
Then again, it’s the first time since last semester that you’ll be able to see the other guys. You didn’t say goodbye to Geto and Haibara before break because they were swarmed with finals, and Nanami was gone the moment he found out all his exams were take-home. You’re not much for parties, to be quite honest. Regardless, it would be nice to catch up on the gang and see how they’re doing before we all revert to non-stress-free college life.
You release a sigh through your nostrils before making your decision begrudgingly. “...Don’t make me regret this.”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
I regret this so fucking much…
Well, this night was going to be quite a drag. Why? Let’s go over the reasons, shall we?
The party that was supposedly at Haibara’s dorm? So, it turns out, there was a change of plans, and to be relocated somewhere else — like outside campus grounds. Screw walking, you and Utahime had to go by car with Geto to go to the party, following down the main street into this big, beautiful neighborhood and parking by a big house. Perfect for housing an event for many people to drink, dance, and vibe.
Oh yeah, that was another thing, too; the many that were attending this fucking party. Word got out about the get-together, so, of course, lots of people wanted to come and celebrate the first weekend. So, not only are you outside campus grounds, but now you’re forced to interact with a crowd rather than a small group of people. You practically have been to every corner of the place to disassociate with people you didn’t know. 
So, where are you now? Upstairs in one of the bedrooms, where the bass of the speakers downstairs can be heard. You’re not alone — sitting in a circle with Utahime, Geto, and a couple of other kids who’re present at your university. What’s happening in the room? Just a chill game of truth, drink, or seven minutes in heaven; either you answer truthfully to a question, drink to avoid it, or go to the closet and do what you want with the person who spun the bottle on you.
But, there was nothing chill about the game, and the players would agree to that notion apprehensively. Because you most definitely silently dreaded every second of this entire night. Why? How about asking the person across you that you’ve been glaring at since you opened the bedroom door and saw his face?
Apparently, as word got out about the party, the college basketball team heard about it and decided to come and celebrate. Meaning the whole team is at this party. Let’s say that again: the entire basketball team – all the players – are here to enjoy the party.
The person who stood across from you sat criss-cross with long, jean-covered legs, leaning with his hands behind him, a navy blue sweatshirt, and dark round shades that cover his eyes that you know are looking dead at you. And a smug grin that patronizes you to the core.
You peer to your night, giving Utahime the nastiest look you can. And the eldest could only meekly mumble an “I’m sorry…” with twiddled thumbs.
Satoru Gojo looked at you, and you frowned right back at him. The tense atmosphere between you two was enough to suffocate the other players. Some would try to break the tension by playing the game. But even then, it was still strenuous. One girl rolled the bottle on Geto, to which he picked “truth” and answered her question: “How did you and Gojo meet?”
Even though he didn’t pick the option, he’d take a small swig of his beer. “Satoru and I have been friends since middle school — same with my other bud, Shoko. We’ve been inseparable since, and now we’re here. He can be an asshole, though, so watch out.”
A guy spun the bottle on Utahime and asked, “Were you ever interested in Gojo?” The raven-haired girl clicked her teeth and took a chug, drinking the whole thing in one sig. 
“Hmph! I’d rather drink sweat from Professor Gakunaji’s crusty beard and eyebrows!” She’d admit after a burp.
“Ahaha! That’s a sight I’d like to see,” Gojo would chuckle at her insult, prompting a few around him to laugh. “Bet you’d get more satisfaction from it than being with me anyway.” 
The senior rolls her eyes before opening another bottle. “Fucking bastard…”
Another spin to the bottle after a couple comes out of the closet all close and giggly. This time, it lands on you. Some bubbly girl who had her eyes all up on Gojo, her nipple piercings able to be seen from her crop tee, was the one who spun it. She asks you, “Y/n, could you please tell me why you hate Satoru so much?”
You couldn’t fight the twitch of your eye. Of fucking course. You’re in no mood to drink, and you barely know this girl to think of being in the closet with her. You exhale through your nostrils, “….We’re friends, to an extent.”
“To an extent?” She asked more questions with a naive tone. “But Satoru's so nice, no?”
Oh, drop it, will you? And why are you referring to him by his first name like you know him? “We’re—“
“They mean that we’re kinda friends, kinda not.” Of course, nothing can be to yourself because the white-haired nuisance went ahead and answered your question. “They’re friends with my roomies, and my friends are their roomies. So, I guess that makes us friends by association. At least that’s the only way to see it since we nearly argued our heads off freshman year.”
You scoff with narrowed eyes, “By association, huh.” 
He quirks a brow up. “Mhmm.”
Good God, the more you two throw invisible daggers at each other, the more uncomfortable people feel being in this room. Oh, but don’t worry; the night gets even worse. Three turns later, it was your turn to spin the bottle. And – sit with me here – just guess who it lands on? Bingo! Satoru Gojo.
The hushed gasps that filled the room were telling; it was bound to happen, but no one thought it would happen. The star-crossed haters spun the bottle and landed on each other. And since Gojo doesn’t drink (and he finds the questions rather lackluster), he chooses the closet. The gasps were louder that time, and your blood began to boil.
The first time it happened was uneventful; it’s what you preferred. After the door closed, you told him, “Don’t even think about touching me.” It was just pure silence for the entire seven minutes. You sat on one side of the emptied closet while Gojo was on the other. There were the occasional sniffles of your nose and his loud yawns. But other than that, you two stayed at your respective sides of the closet. Seven minutes of no words, just keeping to yourself and watching the lava lamp in your corner be your light. 
You two survived the first set of seven minutes, not a scratch on either of you, to everyone’s thankful stars. Keywords: first set. Because why wouldn’t there be more? 
When it got to Gojo’s turn, he spun the bottle and got you! So, here you are, walking into the closet again with your notorious opp. You swore to God this had to be the universe’s way of toying with you as if the start of this semester wouldn’t be a handful to deal with already. 
You’re back on your side of the closet, groaning at your hands. It’s okay, Y/n, calm down. You can sit through another seven minutes. You got this! Don’t even act like he’s there…
And so you compose yourself, watching the heated, yellow wax of the purple lava lamp prompt up to the top to cool and sink back down. Six minutes…Five…Four—
“So, let’s say, hypothetically,” your eyelids closed shut for your eyes to roll freely. “I asked for a little something-—“
“I guess I should’ve added no talking, too. Thought that was rather self-explanatory to you.” You shut him down quickly. “And I thought I said don’t even think of touching me.”
“Well, you’re not in control of my brain,” you don’t have to turn your head to know that the fucker is looking at you. “Besides, I did say hypothetically.”
This motherfucker… ”Well, then, I’d, hypothetically, break every single one of your fingers and give them to Mei Mei so she can sell them to all your fangirls.”
“Hah! Nice to know you see me of high value.” He shifts his feet around from their crisscrossed position. “Bet you’d keep one of them.”
You scoff. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself! I’m annoyed just from not looking at you; what the fuck would I need your stupid finger for.” 
“Hmmm, I can think of many, like—“
“Do not finish that sentence, Gojo.” Your tone dialed lower; a warning. He notices it, bringing his hands up defensively. 
“Jeez, lighten up, Y/n.” He says while leaning against the back wall. “With an attitude like that, no other guy or gal in that room will ever want to be in a closet with you.” 
Oh, you don’t say, fuckface! “I barely want to be in this closet with you. Hell, I didn’t even want to be here! I only came for Utahime, assuming it would be a small party…How the hell did you even get here? I thought the basketball team was going out somewhere.“ 
“Awww, you spying on me, Y/n?” Oh, you hate his fucking snicker, shoving a middle finger in his direction. “We were supposed to be at some restaurant joint, but a few of the crew flunked out on us and said they’d go to some ‘big party,’ then everyone wanted to go, and now we’re here. You know I don’t like alcohol, but I just tagged along because Suguru was here. I didn’t know about you, though.” 
You bring your hands to your face to sigh in private. “We gotta stop meeting like this…It’s like I can never escape you.”
“…Is that a bad thing?” 
You open your mouth to refute, but no words leave….Huh?
That was…..odd. Why did he ask that question like that: you couldn’t detect a remnant of childish malice he’d been throwing at you back and forth. Even when you faced him, his face was straight ahead. But when you don’t answer, his left eye goes to his peripheral to glimpse at you.
What the…Is he being genuine right now? 
You gaze at him briefly before turning away, “I….I don’t know.” He hums to your response. “….Do you think so?”
Gojo shrugs. “Can’t say so either.” You hum back, and the silence takes over once again.
Okay, now things are even more awkward. You came into this closet with irritation, yet somehow, it vanished into thin air. It was the one thing that’s been constant throughout this evening. Now that it’s gone, you can only replay the moment from a few seconds ago in your head. 
Is it a bad thing? Why would he ask that? Of course, it’s a bad thing! Has he forgotten how much hostility we have for each other? Jesus Christ….Wait, why did he say he didn’t know either? What does that even mean!!??
“You look nice.” 
You—……I’m sorry, what???
The way you snapped your head back to him, you could’ve sworn you heard your neck crack. Holy fuck, why the hell was he looking at you right now? His round glasses shine from the lava lamp, so you can’t see his eyes.
“Wh….What?” It was cold; the weather app said it would snow later tonight. Therefore, the temperatures and winds were unforgiving after sunset. So you took it upon yourself to dress warmly. It was all simple, just a white, long-sleeved halter blouse that matched your black skirt – it was the only nice thing you had outside of regular leggings. And you covered your legs with black pantyhoses but decorated with cute white knitted leg warmers. 
He repeated in a singing tune. “You look nice.”
When it came to the white-haired guy in this closet with you, there were rare moments where you felt as though you were shocked by him. This was beyond astounding, the comment continuing to ring throughout your ears.
You blinked at him before averting your eyes down to your hands, trying to distract the increase of heat on your cheeks by intertwining your fingers together. “….Thank you, Gojo.”
“Yeah, no problem,” he’d shrug again, chuckling to himself before adding on. “It’s way better than your other outfits. Baggy old sweatshirts, bags under your eyes even if you’re wearing glasses, sweatpants with stains. You look like a homeless librarian.”
Annnnnd just like that, with the drop of your quivering lip, all the warm feelings you felt for a minute evaporated in seconds. The anger returned with the twitch of a brow. “…Tch, gee, thanks. I can’t say the same for you.” 
“Oh, you know you look cute when you’re jealous~.”
You almost busted a nerve. Who the hell are you calling, cute? “As if. From the sound of it, you must be jealous of me; who told you to be looking and criticizing what I wear? Must be rough not being able to wear comfortable clothes all the time, huh?”
“Shut the hell up,” he finally snaps, and you stick your tongue out in victory.
“No, I’ll keep going! I’m sorry, Mr. Perfect, but not everyone wants to put on their best outfits to impress you, not like your fangirls who get their best bras to push up their breasts for you to notice.”
“Huh, you lookin’ at other girls' boobies? Wow, Y/n, never took you as a pervert.” He laughs at your stare of pure anger. “You are jealous, huh? That I’m talking at other girls and not you? Awww, don’t be so selfish; there’s plenty of me to go around!” 
You snarl at him. “Ugh, you’re so gross! I don’t want anything to deal with you. So all those girls can have you and rip you to shreds for all I care. Let them know how much of a big fucking baby the wonderful, amazing Satoru Gojo is when he drops his ice cream on the floor and cries on Geto’s shoulders. Or that you’re such a lightweight that you accidentally vomited in Nanami’s cup one time, which he threw at you...Or maybe I should tell them.”
His brows furrow, “You wouldn’t dare.”
“I would, and then some.” You sneer. “In fact, I’ll go downstairs, grab that red punch, and spill it right on you in front of that girl next to you. I’ll make your hair look like strawberry shaved ice.” 
He leans his cheek against his fist with a huff. “I take it back; you don’t look nice at all. So uncute.”
You gasped with trenched brows. “Excuse me!?”
“You heard me, you’re uncute!” Yup, today was the day: you’re going to choke the hell out of this motherfucker. “I feel bad for any guy who'd wound up in this closet with you, dealing with such a little devil.” 
“You’re one to talk, dickhead! I’d much rather be stuck in this closet with anyone else — even Geto!”
“Taah, as if! I bet you never even had your first kiss with such an attitude like that.”
Again, you open your mouth to say something, yet words evade you at that very moment. And Gojo catches it quickly. Because his brows raise, lifting his head back up, eyes scanning your face. 
Oh fuck.
“...”
Don’t.
“….Y/n,”
Don’t say it.
“You never had your first ki—“
BEEP!! BEEP!! BEEP!!
He couldn’t finish that sentence, thank God, because the phone alarm from the outside rang. Seven minutes are up — this session is up, so you quickly stood up and opened the closet door. 
With swift feet, you sit back next to Utahime, your eyes downcast to the bottle, avoiding Gojo’s feet coming around and taking his spot across from you. Your roommate perks at your silence, “You okay, Y/n?”
A nod is offered to her, “Yeah, I’m fine.” No, you weren’t. Your heart was pounding like crazy, your skin dropping in color. And you can feel the eyeballs from across boring into your being. “Let’s just keep playing.”
And so the game carried on from Gojo’s turn. Your eyes could only ever look at the bottle, hoping it would never land on you from there on out. But that would be the easy way out, and – as life is – nothing goes your way when you want it to be.
Because when it gets to your turn, you watch with patient eyes as the glass spins on the cold hardwood floor. One spin goes by, and another swings around. Finally, it stops, the neck of the bottle pointing vertically from you, and your whole figure washes in apprehension with the hushed sounds of exclamation of the other people in the room. 
Alas, the bottle pointed to Gojo. It was inevitable – you couldn’t avoid his presence since the last session anymore. You look at him, your brows scrunched with mercy. But he points to the closet with his chin, and you follow his lead to the small space with anxiousness at every step. 
Back to your respective stations in the closet. You can only use the mesmerizing wax of the lava lamp as a sort of comfort – a distraction for your nerves that are at an all-time high. Why were you so nervous? All he did was ask if you ever had your first kiss taken.
Yeah, that’s the problem! Why did he have to know that!? Ughhhh, I should’ve just lied or something…Now what? Will he make fun of me for not having my first kiss taken yet? What is this, middle school!?? The thoughts in your head were a battle to deal with, one personal worry after another.
But all that washes away when the silver-haired guy finally breaks the quiet after a minute. “…Wanna kiss me?”
It felt like your heart dropped at that abrupt question; the warm circulation coursing through your body transitioned to an ice-cold sensation. Your breathing stops, and your eyes shoot wide at the person you’re with. “….Wha….What did you say?”
He doesn’t hesitate at your request. “Wanna kiss?”
Have….Have you lost—“your mind!? Why would you ask me that??” You whisper yelled at him so the people outside don’t hear you.
He shrugs nonchalantly. “Why not?”
Why not?!? “Gojo, you can’t be serious. Just because I never had my first kiss doesn’t mean I need it to happen this instant! Are you that much of a horndog that you’d ask—“
“Let me explain, alright!?” He yells in whispers back with a hand raised to stop your rambling, and you hold your tongue. “Listen, I’m not asking to be a dick, okay? I just thought that…ya know, being in a place full of strangers, someone’s bound to be in this closet with you and ask you for a kiss.”
Your face screws to a magnificent expression of confusion you could ever contour. “Why are you concerned about who I kiss? It’s not like I’d agree or—“
“Yeah, but like, what if they did, huh?” His sky-blue eyes peek from above his sunglasses. The sharpness they carried told you he was serious about this — like he was serious about you. That…That was so off of him. “What if some weirdo forces themselves on you, and me and Suguru can’t help you in time, huh? I can think of two guys in this room who’d probably do that.” 
It takes a few seconds for you to soak in his words, “….So? What are you getting at?” He opens his mouth but stops from saying something, his pointer finger up but back to a fist. You could tell; whatever he was thinking had him in mental turbulence.
He releases a deep sigh before saying, “I’m just…I’m saying, wouldn’t it be better to have your first kiss with someone you know, at least?”
You couldn’t believe he was saying such things to you. “And…you think you’re the one I should….kiss?”
“….I don’t hear a no.” 
You wanted to refute that statement — challenge him or prove him wrong! You looked at his face, examining every feature to find an indication that whatever he was saying was just a way to get under your skin. He loves to poke fun at you, so why wouldn’t he use this as a perfect opportunity?
However, you couldn’t find anything. His eyes were sincere, stationed right back on yours. You saw his Adam’s apple move from a gulp, letting you know that he was a little nervous, too. And your gaze drifted to his mouth, the thought of his lips being on yours staining your brain for the first time. It was scary to think about, your heart racing to no end. 
“Y/n,” he said your name so quietly that you almost missed it. “Do you trust me?”
What an odd question to ask in this awkward atmosphere. Do you trust Satoru Gojo, the boy you would smack with a given chance? He’s undoubtedly the most annoying person you’ve ever bumped into — a thorn in your side since freshman year. He is such a tactless fool, doing and saying whatever he thinks comes to mind, picking on you like you were a child, and not taking you seriously when you wanted him to. You could list many things that you saw wrong with this guy.
Yet, he wasn’t the worst. There hasn’t been an instance where you felt uncomfortable around him, only annoyance. He was friends with Geto and Shoko; that alone should be enough to tell you he’s someone worth depending on. And even when you two would be tasked to do something together, you’d surely click your tongue and bicker until the cows came home. But at the end of the day, you still knew how to work with one another and get the job done.
In all things considered, Satoru Gojo was an irritant. Even so, he was an irritant you could depend on — to trust. 
Breathing was a hard thing to do, taking in air and exhaling excruciatingly slow. You chew on your bottom lip and give him a curt nod. “I…I trust you, Gojo.”
He lets your answer sink in for a bit before he moves his position, his back to the wall while facing you, legs straight down to the ground. He pats on a thigh, “C’mere.”
Hesitance was there for a split second, but you followed his command and quietly maneuvered your way toward his direction, situating on top of his legs. Of course, you were anxious as hell; your ears and cheeks shared a warmth unbearable to host. Your figure being so close to his, you had to be dreaming. 
But you weren’t. The hands he placed on your waist prove so, earning a gasp to leave you. His voice is low for just the two of you to hear. “Put your hands on my shoulders…Ya scared?” A slow nod is what you give him, and he chuckles lightly. “It’s okay. Try closing your eyes for me. Relax, I’m not gonna do anything dumb.”
He only said that because of that look you gave him. He is going to do something to you — just nothing too rash. 
“Trust me, pretty.”
Pretty? Yes, he just called you pretty. You were used to him calling you dumb names to get you riled up, yet none nearly sweet and fitting the mood like this one. It made your heart skip a beat.
With that, you held back reluctance when closing your eyelids. It made you a little uneasy, unable to see him in front of you, what he was doing, what he looked like while having you on him like this.
Suddenly, you squeak when something softly presses down to your clavicle. It was his lips. 
He snickers, “Ya know, I gotta admit.” He brings his mouth up your neck with kisses, your breath shaking with every peck, and your hands clinging onto his sweatshirt. “It’s kinda nice seeing you be all shy on top of me like this.”
“Go..jo...” you flinch at his soft kiss on your forehead, his hands rubbing your sides.
“Don’t do that. Call me by my first name.” You can feel him bringing a hand to your cheek, caressing your bottom lip gently with his thumb. “I know you know it. I wanna hear it with your voice.”
Holy fuck, this got intense way too fast. He brings his nose close to yours, and you shiver at the contact. It only means he’s mere centimeters away. Thank God your eyes were closed now because you swear you’d turn to stone if you snuck a peek.
“S..Sa…Toru—Mmmph!?“
And there it was, the inexorable. Gojo’s lips fleshed with yours softly, nothing too explicit or unpleasant for you. It was a simple kiss, yet it felt so foreign to you. Your first kiss had been with Satoru Gojo. What a momentous day.
It lasted a few seconds, your body stiff and hands balled to fists nonetheless. He removes from you with a soft noise between your lips, the heat from his face taken with him now that you have space to breathe. You open your eyes for him.
“There ya go,” he says with a small smile, stroking your cheek with his thumb while his forefinger plays with your earlobe. “Was it so bad?”You huffed, shaking your head no. Gojo hums, the hand on your waist gripping your flesh faintly. “….Can I kiss you again?”
Your breath hitched. It was a tiny request. One more wouldn’t hurt, right? You nod, closing your eyes again and awaiting his move.
Gojo leans in and claims your lips again, a soft hum from him when his face is back on yours. The next one was a little more risqué than the last, your bottom lip being taken by his playfully. The third kiss was where the mood dialed to a more wanton plane, him nibbling on your lip to allow him access. It’s here that Gojo can’t contain the reins, removing his glasses, “Come here, cutie.”
And you can’t help yourself either, succumbing to these smooches while wrapping your arms around his neck. Gojo’s no better, snaking his hand to the back of your neck and his other sneaking down to your butt.
You break the kiss to inquire, “Hahhh—…you pervert,” your eyes half-lidded. 
He puffs a laugh, “Whaaat? I thought you’d like me to be touchy.”
You don’t admit anything to him, just slamming your face to his again. You decided to be a little adventurous and lick his lips. Gojo senses the initiative and takes your tongue to suck on. The whimper you let out was too cute, egging him on to suck and tease the muscle more. 
It makes you dwell in the moment more, your limbs no longer stiff, yet your hips subtly move voluntarily. The friction from your groin rubbing on his jean-covered thigh was strangely enticing, your restraint becoming lesser the more you moved. And it gets worse after both Gojo’s hands creep into your skirt and tease your ass with squeezes.
“Ahhh, mmmm, Satoru..” you wailed. 
“Relax, baby,” there it goes again, another cute pet name to call you. He really knew how to get you going. “Let me take care of you….Mmmm”
He shoves his tongue into your mouth – not too forceful to scare you, but enough to get that he is impatient. You moan to his mouth, a hand grabbing tuffs of his snowy hair. 
His nose is pressed to your cheek like yours, and it’s getting harder to breathe now that things are getting intimate. But it all felt good, and the mood was just right. You rub your chasm onto his leg, which he lifts just a bit to make grazing your groin a little better. And God, the way his hands groped your butt, it turned you on even more. 
Ohh fuck, tongues swirl around each other, your head begins to pound, and your ears ring from the heat on your face.. Oh, God, you could feel a hand come up to the top of your stocking, teasing its way down your skin and to the hem of your underwear. Please, please—
BEEP!! BEEP!! BEEP!!
Even so, everything freezes in time, and both you and Gojo stop whatever you’re doing. Lips still on lips, your ass on his lap, and his middle and forefinger barely grazing the crack of your ass. It’s here that everything hits you all at once: you are not the only one here — you’re not even in your room! You’re still at the party you were dragged into, in some stranger’s bedroom closet, smooching with your supposed most hated person. 
You immediately withdraw from him, Gojo removing his hands from you to put up defensively. Your hands rush to cover your lips, which are wet from spit. A thousand thoughts run around your head. Holy shit, what the hell was I doing!? Did I really just kiss Gojo? Satoru Gojo!? What was I thinking!!?
And Gojo didn’t say anything, only gauging your reaction to see what goes from here. The light from the lava lamp behind you is sheltered, your silhouette drawn to cover the guy in front of you. 
I need to leave. That’s your final thought, taking an immediate stand and storming out of the closet. Utahime noticed you make a beeline to the door, and the roommate pursues right behind you down the stairs. She moves past drunk dudes to grab your wrist, “Y/n! What’s wrong – are you okay?”
It’s time to lie. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just tired, you know.” You lead her to the broom closet where all the initial guests’ jackets were stored. You grab for yours and put it on, “I think I’m just gonna call an Uber and head back to campus before the snowfall.” 
Her face contorts to an expression of worry. “Are you sure? I’ll come with you; this place bugs any—“
“No, no. You don’t have to worry, Uta.” You place a hand on her shoulder before she can move another step. 
“When you say it like that, I can’t help but worry.”
Your lips twinge to a smile to display faux comfort. “It’s okay, really. You don’t have to ruin your fun for me. Besides, I saw some underclassmen waiting to speak with you all night somewhere down here.”
Utahime doesn’t buy it, and you knew she doesn’t. But thankfully, she doesn’t try to fight with you and gives you the okay. She watches you open the door before leaving, “Make sure you call or text me when you get to our dorm!”
It made you laugh; the girl can be such an older sister. “Don’t worry, Shoko’s still there, remember? Cya later, have fun!”
“Bye, be careful!” A final warning to you before the roommate closes the door for you.
You spoke too soon. Now outside, snow was already falling to the ground, probably a few minutes earlier since it wasn’t sticking to the ground yet. The little cold flakes touching the skin of your face were almost remedial, evening out the warmth of your cheeks.
You use this moment to recuperate from what transpired in that house. It was so out of the ordinary and was completely weirding you out, but not in a terrible way. It was more like odd-ish, strange, downright out of the norm. The more you think about it, visiting back to the senses of your hands in his hair, his slender fingers teasing the flesh of your butt, and the pillowy sensation of his lips glued to yours while whispering sweet things…..
….Nope, the cold was not helping at all. There goes the warmness creeping back on your cheeks and ears. Let me hurry and get the fuck out of here, grabbing for your phone and unlocking it to find the Uber app.
“Y/n!”
But before your thumb could press on the application, you instinctively turned around to see the door was open again. And the person who called out to you had your breath come to a complete stop.
Gojo closed the door behind him, coming down the driveway while hurriedly putting on his grey Chesterfield coat. “Fuuuuuck, it got cold quick!”
“G–Gojo!” You stuttered when out by the time he could make it to you. “What’s up? What are you—“
“I saw you weren’t in the bedroom, and Suguru told me you headed downstairs. You could’ve told me you were leaving; that fox with bangs was giving me an earful,” he stuffs his hands in his pockets and then curses. “Fuck, I should’ve checked for my gloves before I left….Anyway, where are you heading off to?” 
You were a little taken aback. “Uhhh, back to the dorms?”
“Great!” He wraps an arm around your shoulders and walks with you down the road. “My car’s over there; let’s hurry before we freeze to death.”
Huh? “Hurry where??”
“Huh? We’re going back to campus, no?”
We!? “Together!?”
“Yeah?”
“Gojo, please!” You promptly removed yourself away from Gojo, standing in front of him. “Why are you doing this? Why are you being all nice now?”
He shrugged “Ehhhh? Are friends not supposed to give friends rides back home?”
“No, not us! We aren’t friends; we’re friends to an extent, remember!?”
“Ahhh, stop being a baby. You act as if you’ve never been in my car before.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Yeah, but not when I’m alone with you, dummy! “C’mon, it’s gonna get colder with this snow.”
“Okay, just—Stop!” Your hands go up to prevent him from getting any closer to you. He stops, the fallen flakes camouflaging with his hair. “Gojo….you understand what just happened back there, right?”
He doesn’t say anything, only a single nod. 
“So, you know that my mind is going at like a hundred miles per hour right now.”
“….Yeah.”
“Okay….So, just please…I need a minute.” Your face goes to your feet to divert your thoughts elsewhere because you don’t know if you could handle looking at the white-haired man for a mere second.
Gojo looks at you mumble to yourself, avoiding him. He releases a deep sigh, walking towards you and lifting a side of his coat to shield you two from the windows of the house party. “…You’re doing it again.”
His shoes come to your direct line of sight, your heart pounding even more. “…Doing what?”
“The thing where you push people out whenever you feel overwhelmed.” You flinch when his finger grazes the back of your palm. “Don’t do that, not right now. I want you to talk to me.”
What is there to talk about? You could’ve said that to throw him off — be avoidant to this whole conversation. But it’s futile after he brings your chin up to face him. 
“Did I make you uncomfortable back there?”
“….No.” 
“Then what’s wrong?”
“I….I don’t know.” Honestly, you did not know. Your mind had too much to go through; so many memories and phrases from moments ago hit you all at once. You’re fighting the urge to tremble — not from the cold, but from overstimulation of brain power and senses.
His eyes are still fixed on you, noting you chewing on your lip. “Come with me.” The sudden revelation quirked your eyebrows up. “Whatever’s going on with you is obviously because of me. So, I’d feel like a dick if I just let you leave because of me. Plus, there’s no way you’re getting an Uber from here. Shit is like $20, I checked.”
“Gojo, I—“ he silences you with a kiss on your forehead. The feel of his lips on your skin again almost made you shut down.
“Sorry,” he whispered while placing his forehead on yours. You never really noticed how tall he was until he did that, your heart skipping again. “I���ll make it up to you. Promise.”
Picture it: you are out in the cold with Gojo, snow falling down silently onto your figures, him bringing his coat up to shield you from the world. If you were naive enough, you’d mistake this as a scene from a fairy tale. And how he was looking at you, too; his sunglasses were back on, but you could make out the blue orbs that lingered on yours. It’s as if he didn’t want to look at anything else. Just you and only you. 
You don’t know where the hell this side of confidence came from, but you lifted your hands to cup his cheeks and bring him in for another kiss. Cold lips instantaneously warm up at each other’s contact, Gojo leaning into your touch more. 
Snow continues to fall and stick, and the music from the house can still be heard from the outside. Yet it doesn’t bother you because it all drowns out in this moment you feel with him. Whatever these feelings you are experiencing are something new — scary, but new. And for some reason, it felt right to have them for him.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
A sheet of white cascades over the university grasses, students’ cars topped with sprinkles of snowflakes, and the lampposts emit a glow that fits the dark, cloudy weather. 
You were back on campus but not in your dorm where you told Utahime you’d be. You did text her when you arrived, so she doesn’t have to worry too much for you. In turn, she texted back that something had come up and is going to another event with Haibara and some other friends. She said she wouldn’t be back until tomorrow morning; it sounds like she’s having a good time. 
The same thing goes for Geto, only that the raven-haired boy called Gojo to say he’d be home in the morning because he was getting “private” with someone he met at the party. “Will be back in the morning. Don’t cause a fire alarm like last time, you dork." 
Haibara is supposedly with your roommate, meaning he won’t be back until the morning, either. The only person left to account for would be Nanami, who is currently away for the weekend because he had to visit home to grab last-minute things from break. 
That leaves only you inside their apartment – in Gojo’s room on top of his bed with your top and bra down on the carpeted floor, along with Gojo’s sweatshirt and jeans. His bed is like any other twin bed for college dorms, a little impossible to move around for two people and limited positions. Nonetheless, to start things off slow, you lie comfortably on his bed with your head to his pillow as he crawls above you and works from above.
Gojo is straddled on top of you, kissing your lips and sucking on your tongue, evoking the prettiest wails he’s ever heard. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders while his are busy roaming your body.
The kiss is broken when you gasp at the contact of his pinkie grazing a nipple on your breast. “Ahhnn, Satoru, don’t touch…Mmmph!”
“Hmmm, what, gorgeous?” He places his lips from your chin down to your neck, sucking on your skin and leaving ticklish nibbles. “Don’t touch what?”
“M–My ni—Ohhoo!” He gives the hardened bud a tweeze, and your cry results from the sudden action. 
He chuckles, “So cute.” Kisses travel down from your collarbone, your breasts, and finally, your other unattended nipple. A whimper leaves your lips at the wet sensation of his tongue swirling around the sensitive nob, and you shriek when he takes it into his mouth. The frequent grazes of his teeth and the tongue pushing your nipple to the roof of his mouth — it all felt surreal.
Yet, it wasn’t as surreal as the next thing he was about to do. Sucking on your tit was the perfect distraction for him to sneak a hand down into your pantyhose, sinking it to the lower regions of your underwear. You gasp at the feeling of a digit pressing on the wet spot of your underwear.
“W–Mmmph…’toru, wait…” you pat him on his shoulder to get his attention, yet he doesn’t lift from your breast yet. “Don’t—Stop, it’s embarrassing—Khhmm!“ Shivers shoot up your spine after Gojo uses his middle and forefinger to go in between your panty-covered folds. Your wetness sticks onto him the more he rubs. 
Gojo lets go of your nipple with one last suck, the cool air chilling the wet bud. “Awww, is my lil’ princess shy?” You could only answer in pants and puffs, his blue eyes surveying your entire body laid out for him. “Heh, shit, you look so good...Hmm? Hey, you got a tear down here.”
“Huh?” You follow his eyes down to your tights, bringing your attention to a worn-down incision where Gojo’s hand is between the material and your underwear. It must’ve been from when I was grinding on him earlier today…
The snow-haired boy removes his hand from inside your tights and uses both to make the rip bigger. Your eyes shot wide, “Wha—What are you doing?”
“Making it easier to see your pussy.” He continues to tear a hole big enough for the damp spot of your pussy to be prevalent. 
Your face dials up in warmth at the vulgar word. “You could’ve just taken them off, you idiot…”
“Pssh, that’s no fun. Besides,” Gojo uses a thumb to remove the panty barrier to reveal what he’s wanted to see the moment you crawled up on his bed. Your bare cunt, wet substance glistening the pretty folds of your labia. He bites his lip. “I’ve been dying to see this pretty thing you’ve been hiding from me.”
Your hands rush to cover up your vagina, “D-Don’t say such embarrassing things, Gojo!”
“Hey, hey, let me see it,” his hands are used to pull yours aside, your slit throbbing from his gaze without your control. “And what did I say about calling me by my last name?”
It was a force of habit, dummy. “...Just be gentle, okay, Satoru?”
He beams a smile at you, the dimples on his cheek prevalent with his childish manner. “I will, princess! Now, what’s goin’ on here…” 
He ditches his head down to your chasm, giving the inviting genitalia a slow lick up to your clitoris. You bucked your hips in shock, jerking at the sudden intrusion of his tongue situating between your slit. He uses his hands to keep your legs still while he sucks and teases your vagina.
You grab for his hair, “—Khhaa!! Ohhh, ohhfuckkk, Satoru, no—Ohhh!!” Your eyes screw shut, mouth open to let your cries fly out. 
It only pushes Gojo to keep going, his tongue ravaging your folds as if he’s going to lick you clean. And when he sucks on clit? Holy fuck, you could’ve sworn your soul left your body right there and then.
“Satoruuu!! Ohhhshit, ohhhh…Mmmph,” the noises that come from the commotion below of Gojo’s tongue lapping and slurping your essence were so pornographic to the ears as if they’d melt on the spot. “Oh, God, I’m gonna cum, I think I’m gonna…Nnmmph!”
Gojo hears you; that’s why he removes his mouth from your clit before you can experience your orgasm. You throw an unsatisfied whine at him, a shit-eating grin apparent on his face. “Sorry, cutie. But I wanna have a feel for you first.” He straightens his posture and spreads your legs for him. You follow his hands that land at the hem of his boxer briefs, where a tent protrudes until his erection is sprung out with one fell swoop.
The erect limb you gawked at was definitely something you weren’t mentally prepared enough to see. Your eyes take in every single detail you can: from his pink tip, where precum exudes from the urethra down to the underside of his cock, to the long body curved slightly to the left. A whole living a breathing dick — and it’s Gojo’s dick, of all things. It was oddly pretty, you had to admit. 
“Ya ready?” You snap back to reality when Gojo calls out to you as he scoots forward to you after putting the condom on, the cockhead aligning with your labia. You hold your breath at the proximity, “Listen to me, Y/n. Since this is your first time, I need you to take deep breaths and try to relax for me. Think you can do that for me?” You sigh through your nostrils, but you nod. “Heh, good. Now stay still, and let me know if it hurts, okay, princess?”
He lightly pushes his glans to your labia, swirling it around to warm you up before kissing the entrance of your vagina. He begins to propel into you, and you begin to brace yourself for the pain that accompanies his insertion. You grab the pillowcase, your teeth clinging to your bottom lip as tears well up. But you remind yourself to breathe, drawing out as much of an exhale for Gojo to shove the tip in.
And when it does get in, you release the loudest gasp you’ve ever expressed that night! Your body froze stiffly as Gojo plunged more of his length into you; the curve scraping your side caused such an exhilarating spike in your nerves that your walls immediately began clenching around him. 
Oh fuck, It’s coming, I’m gon— “Ahhhh!”
And just like that, your orgasm that was avoided before came back in seconds., the walls of your slit fluttering on Gojo’s cock like crazy, electric shocks climbing up to your head and pulling you in for a haze.
The sudden contraction of you makes Gojo hiss, “—Fuuuck, you’re gripping me like crazy…! Damn, you feel so fucking good…” He continues to push himself onto you until the base rises your southern lips and grinds his pelvis, which only fuels your screams even more with the overstimulation. “—Khhh! D-Damn…did you cum, baby?”
You can’t even form a proper sentence, your lower half feeling too full to speak, and your figure trembling from the crescendo. 
Your expression has Gojo bend down to laugh. “Never had that happened before. Heh, glad I could make you cum for the first time. Congrats, pretty…” Pillowy lips claim yours again, taking your whines and whimpers as he roughly grinds his hips to you.
Gojo begins moving his hips at a slow pace, letting you adjust to his size and shape. However, the peak has made your entire lower body dial-up in sensitivity, your back arching to him every time your clit is barely touched. Tears have long fallen since he successfully entered inside you.
Jesus, the fucking curve of his shaft was so fucking dangerous! Not only was the feeling of his veins coming to and fro with your inner walls had you twitching, but the way the tip of his cock was scratching and poking every spot that had you humming was so unfair. Especially now, when he changes the rhythm to a faster cadence, you’re bound to come again! 
“Ohooo, ahahhh, Sa-‘toru…! Ughhh, Jesus, it feels so….Hooohhh!!” Your words slurred in between kisses, almost choking on your tongue with the slap of his balls hitting your taint. 
“Yeah, baby…—Ohhh, shit, shit, shiiiit…!” You feel so good to Gojo; he can’t help but slam onto you with all his might. Your nails were causing eclipses on the skin of his shoulders. He didn’t mind; he knew it was because you were feeling good, too. “Hnngh…How’re you feelin’, Y/n? Hmm?”
“—Eeshh!! I–I…don’t know…” Your brain was too mushy to think adequately, too distracted by what was between your legs.
But Gojo wasn’t buying that mess. “Ohoho, I think you do know, sweetie.” The tall silver-haired boy creeps a hand down to your clit to give it a pinch. You scream, your legs wrapping around his hips involuntarily. “How’re you feeling?”
“—Fuuuhucck!! It feels good,” There, you finally said it. “It feels soo good…Hic–pleaseeee, make me feel good, ‘toruuuu!!”
He puts his forehead to yours before kissing it. “God, you’re so fucking, cute…” 
Gojo increases his tempo to an erratic fashion, your howls bouncing off the walls with every plunge of his dick inside you. Your gummy walls clamp onto him while his fingers swipe around your clitoris, and more tears strike down your wet cheeks. 
The familiar tingling sensation from before begins to climb up. Oh, God, it’s happening again. “Ahhooo—OhmyfuckingGooood!! I’m gonna cum again, I’m gonna cummm…! Aiiishh, ahhhhh!!”
And there it goes, your second crescendo hitting you like a wall. Your walls twitch around Gojo’s length again, prompting the man above you to impetuously thrust in a harsh motion, evoking more choked sobs from your puffy lips. And when he dwells into a finish of his own, you can feel his limb pulsate along with your contractions withering away.
The two of you heave and pant close to each other before Gojo slumps his body on your nude figure, allowing him to rest while he pumps his load into your stimulated cunt. The sheets beneath you stick to your sweaty skin, the air of Gojo’s huffs tickling your neck. 
When you feel your body subsided from the excitement, you two turn to each other. Noses touching each other, eyes locked into each other’s stares. 
“….So,” he’s the first to speak in a whisper. “…What does this make us?”
His eyes were so alluring to look at, like looking at the most beautiful azure gems in your adjacency. “…I’ll punch you if you say I’m your girlfriend.”
That has him chuckling in shaky breathes. “Fair enough, but it’d be dumb if we didn't talk after this.”
A curt nod in agreement, “…Is there a thing called frenemies-with-benefits?”
“Pfft, I don’t know, but why not? I wouldn’t mind.” Gojo then decides to get up and finally remove himself from you, slowly taking out his cock with the condom. The bed creaks when he leaves to remove the plastic and wrap it to discard it. “You okay?”
You ponder for a few seconds before coming to an honest answer. “I think so…My pantyhose isn’t fine, though, you fiend.” 
He flashes another smile at you, his dimples taking your heart away. “Yeah, yeah, sorry about that. I’ll get you another pair.”
“You better.” 
BZZZT!! BZZZT!! BZZZT!!
Before you could get off the bed, a vibration came from Gojo’s dresser top. It was his phone, the caller ID reading as “punk-boy bangy wannabe” 
You blink and give the phone to Gojo after he puts his sweatshirt back on. With raised brows, he says, “It’s Suguru?” His thumb presses the green button before bringing the device to his ear while he puts his limp dick back in his boxers. “Yo. Wassup?”
“Okay, good, you picked up. I’m getting in the elevator right now to grab something from the room real quick. Open the door for me, will ya?”
The white-haired roommate couldn’t express his shock in time because Geto ended the call before he could have the chance. He turns to you slowly, and you can tell whatever he’s going to say isn’t good based on that dumb look on his face. “Suguru's coming up…now.”
Panic spiked up as it rightfully should. You were still braless and topless, for Christ’s sake! And wearing torn tights!? Something you did not want Geto to see in the likes of his and Gojo’s room. “W–What should I do?!”
Gojp quickly scans the room for a plan, immediately pointing to a door to his right. “Hide in my closet!” He hurries to grab the door open. “Quick, grab your clothes and get in here!”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake…!” You grab for everything in your direct line of sight, making a straight beeline to the closet when you’ve got everything. “Don’t forget my shoes at the front; just quickly hide them somewhere!”
“Okay, okay—“
“I’m serious, Gojo! Do not do anything stupid!”
“I heard you, jeez.” He watches you move around the closet, moving his shoes to one side while trying to hide behind one of his suits. Jesus, you looked real cute even when you were scared. “…Hey.”
You peer up at him, moving his blazer so he could see your complete face. “What?”
“Be careful not to leave your panties here ‘cause I might not give them back.”
The last thing Gojo saw within that second was one of his dress shoes thrown dead at his face. His hands come to his stinging nose and cheek, exclaiming at the pain with a loud groan. “Fucking pervert, quit playing dumb games and get my shoes!”
I take it fucking back. He slams the closet door closed. “So uncute…”
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 ❤︎ reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.
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all444miles · 10 months
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— JERSEY LUV PT.2
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— pairing: e42!miles x blackcoded!fem!reader — genre: suggestive but fluff — summary: attractive things Miles does that makes you fold. — a/n: TY YALL FOR 500 OMG N HAPPY LATE BDAY TO MY MAN + WE BACK W A PT TWOOOO, i folded js as hard w this one so i hope yall do too!! i do have those two fics comin in, im js posting this to keep yall entertained! mwah, enjoy !!
part 1 part 3 !
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MILES MORALES that's gets mad jealous, like, maddd jealous. When he's with others, he'll always call you "my girl" so that they know you're his girlfriend. He wont hesitate to kiss you in front of smb that thinks they have a chance. p.s, they don't.
MILES MORALES that cuddles for hours and won't let you leave unless your practically dying to go to the bathroom. If you try, he'll just hold you tighter.
"Nah amor, you gon stay right here." "Miles, I-" Nuh uh."
MILES MORALES who always has you sat on his lap. he's playing games? you on his lap. y'all talking? you on his lap. y'all making out? oh, you are most definitely on his lap.
speaking of making out..
MILES MORALES who has his hands all over you when you make out. there's no place it stays, your face, your neck, your hips, waist, thighs, its always there.
MILES MORALES who likes (and you do too) to have music play while yall kiss. summer walker, kehlani, he does not care. as long as its in your playlist and its slow, he's playing it.
MILES MORALES who invites you to go the gym with him. it dont matter if you actually work out or not, he just asks so he can have you there and watch him work out. he aint gon admit it though.
"ma! im bouta go to the gym, come wit me." "baby, you know ion work out." "ian ask if you wanted to. i just want you to be with me, so come onn." "you just want me to watch you, huh?" "..mami, im not bouta ask you twice, come with me."
MILES MORALES that will happily let you borrow his clothes, there's not even much of a point of trying to steal them because he's already handed them to you.
MILES MORALES who dances bachata with you in private. he's not too much of a public dancer, but when you to are in private, it's a whole different story.
MILES MORALES who will listen to you talk about anything becuase he adores your voice with all his heart. If it's something you like, he'll buy it for you, just as a reminder than he listens.
"Go on ma, keep talking to me, I'm all ears."
MILES MORALES who grabs your waist instead of saying excuse me because he knows you like it.
MILES MORALES who has most definitely graffitied a place with both y'alls initials on it.
"awwee, my man breaking the law for me." "you like it?" "love it."
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tags: @seraaphicss @laaailuh @mayeluvsu @iwannagohomesaystamaki @onginlove @sheluvv-jen @laylasbunbunny @missusmorales @thatgirlmiah @paraccosm @tinkerbelle05 @fictarian @zalayni @m4rihrts @whitejxsmine @444morales @writings-ofthe-heart
© all444miles 2023. do not plagerize, copy, or repost my work in any way shape or form, without my permission.
likes, reblogs, comments and asks are always appreciated !
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zarameraki · 5 months
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♡₊˚🔪・₊✧ 𝘁𝗼𝗷𝗶 𝗶𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝘁. 𝟭₊˚🔪・₊✧
: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 mdni 𖥔 obsessed at the first glance 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 masturbation (toji time) 𖥔 "she's mine even if she doesn't know it yet" 𖥔 age gap 𖥔 he's downright depraved for you
: ̗̀➛ word count: 3.7k
: ̗̀➛ notes: happy new year, mamas! and happy belated birthday to my baby daddy. y'all have no idea how fun it is to write toji fics. i've got a hundred already lined up. i'm going to make this a full series but for now here is part one of what's about to come (haha get it? oh god. i need help)
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The first time Toji laid his eyes on you was the morning after he’d finished yet another one of his assassination cases.
There you were, seated on a picnic mat, a serene oasis in the bustling sea of activity. The wind danced through your hair, and you were engrossed in a book, your legs tucked comfortably beneath you. The music in your headphones created a private sanctuary, shielding you from the cacophony of playful children, picnicking families, and the vibrant hum of the city's summer.
Toji found himself rooted to the spot.
Oblivious to the annoyed cyclists and the world rushing past him, he stood there, captivated. It was as though he had stumbled upon a deity crafted solely for him.
You briefly raised your gaze, taking a momentary break from the confines of the small text.
Toji couldn't believe his luck as he found himself mesmerized by the tantalizing sight before him. Despite his best efforts to maintain composure, a telltale bulge in his sweatpants betrayed the mark you had on him. There you were, blissfully unaware, sipping from a water bottle that seemed almost rehearsed.
His fixation deepened as he observed every nuance of your movements—the curve of your mouth, the delicate way your throat accommodated the liquid, and the small hands that gripped the oversized bottle. He imagined his cock instead and flinched from the way his dick twitched. The simple act of you licking your lower lip and unbuttoning the top buttons of your dress shirt to fan yourself from the heat sent shivers down his spine.
You just had to start tying your hair up. 
Taking a deep breath, Toji briskly walked towards a nearby public restroom and locked himself in one of the vacant stalls.
His back pressed against the wall as he lowered his sweatpants and pulled his thick, trembling cock out, pre-cum trickling from the tip. He lowered his eyes and visualized you on your knees, grabbing his cock and circling your small, pink tongue around his tip. His head cruised back as you swallowed his length to the back of your warm throat, gagging, gasping, choking, bobbing your head back and forth. His fingers tightly held onto your tender scalp, fucking himself into your pretty, little mouth until your nose was crushed against his pelvis. He heard you begging, pleading, scratching at his hips to give you a breather, but Toji relentlessly fed you his cock, over and over and over—
Spurts of release erupted and splattered onto the stall's wall, with droplets dripping onto the floor. Toji opened his eyes only to find the space where your apparition was supposed to linger now empty. His hand was sticky and hot, smudged in the mess he’d made envisioning you. You. It was you who had provoked this intense response, causing him to reach a climax faster than ever before.
As Toji cleaned himself up, he couldn't ignore the unabashed stares from the onlookers, men who had clearly overheard him masturbating. Ignoring the judgmental gazes, he focused on formulating a plan to claim you, even if you fought or opposed it; he was convinced that, in time, you would surrender.
In his mind, you were already his.
Toji lingered for the next few hours on that park bench, focused on you. His eyes traced every move you made, absorbed in that stupid book of yours, oblivious to the frisbees and kites dancing above you. His gaze burned into the teenage boys engaged in soccer behind you, fuming as they carelessly neared you with the ball. Especially the one you beamed at after he half-heartedly apologized to you.
Fuck, that smile of yours was irreplaceable.
As you packed your mat into the duffle bag and rose, turning to dust your ass off from any debris sticking to it, Toji's thoughts took a blunt turn. Sleep was an impossibility now.
Following discreetly as you strolled down the path, immersed in the rhythm of your ear-throbbing music, Toji couldn't help but dissect every inch of you. Your clothes, undoubtedly high-end and branded, spoke volumes. The price tag on your headphones alone easily flirted with seven hundred dollars, if not more. It was clear—you came from a life of comfort, perhaps a spoiled heir or held a proud position in some grand corporation. You were proving to be a challenging prize, a fish that refused to be easily caught.
You decided to take a pit stop at a vegan café where they charged an arm and a leg for a tiny cup of espresso.
Patiently, Toji lingered outside, cigarette dangling from his lips, the ember casting shadows on his sharp features. Peering through the glass, he caught glimpses of your animated conversation with a male barista. Though, the bastard's eyes were shamelessly speaking to your cleavage.
Toji hadn’t killed anyone for fun in a while; maybe the lanky fucker was going to start a new streak. 
As you emerged, holding your iced coffee and muffin like some divine offering, he noticed the scribbles on the napkin. Ah, the barista's number, huh? The son-of-a-bitch just signed his own death warrant.
With a flick of your wrist, you crumpled the napkin and tossed it into the trash, conveniently placed right next to him.
Your eyes locked.
The cigarette in Toji's mouth hung suspended in a moment that seemed to stretch forever. Your gaze shot up as you took in the powerful physique of the man, the scar tracing its path on his left lip, and the black, sleek strands of hair framing those perilous, obsidian-green eyes. He was more than just attractive; he was a magnetic force, and you could feel the tingling of anxiety dancing on your skin. Too bad your family had always drummed into you the importance of polished over rugged.
Despite the internal turmoil, you turned on your heel and continued walking, nonchalantly sipping on your cold coffee to ease the tension building within you. There was an undeniable urge to steal one last glance at him, an itch in your brain pushing you to do so. With feigned composure, you added an extra sway to your hips, aware that his eyes were still on you.
Toji’s eyes were glued to your ass. Was he breathing? Nope. He was sure he’d busted his cover just then. You had checked him out for thirty whole seconds, the opportunity to speak suspended in the air, only to be pulled apart and crumble at his feet. 
But he didn’t care. 
He shadowed your every move, navigating through busy intersections, seamlessly blending into the teeming masses, keeping up with only the sway of your swinging ponytail and your ass. Fuck, he loved your ass. He wanted to spank it red, bruise the flesh for teasing you. 
Finally, you stepped into the most luxurious hotel in the city.
Toji wondered if you were a local or a visitor from abroad. If he had to purchase a plane ticket to tail you back to your residence, he'd gladly do it. It was insane how unknowingly you had him trapped, wrapped around your perfectly manicured finger.
The lobby was nothing short of fucking fancy.
The place was decked out with marble floors that shone so much he could almost see his reflection. A huge chandelier hung from the ceiling, sparkling with a zillion crystals.
The furniture was all plush and comfortable, like sinking into a cloud. Big, ornate couches and chairs scattered around, all in rich, deep colors.
In the middle was a fancy concierge desk with people in sharp suits and friendly smiles ready to help out. He caught a whiff of some subtle, expensive scent in the air—not too overpowering, just enough to make him feel like he was out of place.
There was a low hum of activity—people chatting, the clinking of glasses from the bar nearby, maybe some soft piano music in the background. He couldn't help but feel a bit important just standing there like he'd stepped into a world where everything was a little more polished and refined.
He was in hell.
"Dad!" you exclaimed, striding towards your father amidst a crowd of his guards and members of the family hotel enterprise board.
"Darling!" Your father embraced you briefly, then caught a whiff of something unusual around you. "Were you smoking?"
Shit. 
That attractive stranger from before had been smoking and the scent must’ve stuck to your clothes. 
"I bumped into a friend who was," you lied, acknowledging your father's associates with a nod. Your current appearance didn't exactly match the polished image your mother presented to the press, but it was a facet appreciated by some online fans. As the heiress to the family hotel, however, you understood the importance of maintaining grace.
Even on your days-off. 
"How was your meeting?" you asked.
"Same old, same old. Nothing for you to worry about," he replied dismissively.
"I mean, shouldn't I be involved? I'm almost twenty-one. It might be time for me to learn the ropes of managing—"
"I'm still around, aren't I?" Your father pushed your arm, causing you to stagger slightly. "Why don't you go freshen up now? We have a family dinner tonight." Family dinners, in this case, were elaborate affairs with your father and mother's vast social circles, almost a societal event. Unfortunately, everything was hosted at the hotel, making you feel like you were in a gilded cage.
"Sure, Dad."
He planted a quick kiss on your cheek and walked past you.
You stared at his retreating figure and the group of men you would eventually be working with, all of them vanishing through the hotel's automatic doors until the lights surrounding you became a blur. Your fingers touched your wet eyes, the back of your shaky hand wiping at your cheeks.
Despite the hurt, your training to act classy in public kicked in. You rolled back your shoulders, attempted a smile, and walked toward the elevators leading to your personal suite.
Observing the unfolding scenario from a discreet vantage point nearby, Toji, with arms and ankles casually crossed, wore a devilish smirk at how effortlessly the situation had played into his hands.
His room was on the twelfth floor. 
It served as a temporary base for the two nights he had planned to stay. Plenty of time, in his calculation, to claim you as his own. He walked the fine line between confidence and cockiness, especially when dealing with a woman of your caliber. If he were to leave empty-handed, Toji carried a darkness within that would annihilate those you loved, a merciless flood of destruction until you had no choice but to turn to him. His sights were set on you, beginning with your pretentious father.
Yes, Toji had researched each and every single human associated with you. 
Your father was a titan in the hospitality game and built an empire that stretched across the map. His hotels sprouted like mushrooms, and his wealth skyrocketed faster than you could say "check-in." He portrayed himself as the picture-perfect family man, but lurking in the shadows were dealings that'd make you think twice about tagging him with the 'daddy dear' label. During one of his many interviews, he let slip a desire for a son. When the inevitable talk of you inheriting the hotels surfaced, he'd chuckle, saying, "We'll see about that."
Toji absentmindedly toyed with his pocket knife, thinking of ways he’d cut your father’s tongue and shove it down his throat. 
Then there's your mom, the classic trophy wife. No accomplishments to her name, just born into a world of idle gossip and social climbing. Since you were in diapers, she's been molding you into the picture-perfect daughter for the public eye. Nannies raised you, and she only paid attention when it came to playing matchmaker, setting you up with aristocratic jerks.
Toji might spare your mother only because she was an airhead being puppeteered by your father’s gimmicks. 
You, on the contrary, were as perfect as one could get. Top of your class all through elementary to high school, currently enrolled in a business Ivy program at a prestigious university, president of the student union, and an active team player in clubs as absurd as juggling.
Your carefully crafted social media presence had Toji rolling his eyes. An avid reader who probably devoured Shakespeare in between saving the world and a lover of sunsets because nothing said depth like a passion for the fading light. Your commitment to wildlife, starting a charity for animals in captivity that was funded strictly by your family's friends. He bet the lions and tigers sent you thank-you cards.
Toji forcefully closed his laptop, took a deep breath, and sank into his mattress, gripping the roots of his hair.
He knew he wanted you. He wanted to touch you, to be inside of you, to break you and put you together again. The image of you being pushed by your father played in his mind, making his heart threaten to burst from his chest.
Despite the depraved thoughts, Toji was genuinely curious about you. The real you. The person seeking love in the same way you offered it to others. He wanted to fuck you but also take great care of you. He wanted to make you cry, but only when you were underneath him, begging for more. He’d kill himself if he hurt you otherwise. He questioned if a dormant monster within you waiting to be awakened by his own.
There had to be. 
And he would be the one to root it out.
Toji pulled himself together, took a quick shower, and threw on the best outfit he had found in his cramped closet within his even more cramped apartment while packing. Living in close quarters didn't bother him; after all, his income came from a rather unconventional source—he was a professional assassin, taking out targets for clients that ranged from politicians to drug dealers. Penthouses and sports cars weren't his style, even if he could afford them; he preferred the simple life, spending most of his earnings on one thing he enjoyed the most: gambling on horse racing.
Knowing that you'd be at the bar, Toji decided to do a bit of reconnaissance. He hacked into the private security servers of the hotel, observing your movements from the corridor to the public areas. He saw you leaving your room in a stunning maroon gown, hair elegantly pinned up, and lips painted a vibrant red. His dick jerked in his trousers.
He spotted you alone at the bar, enjoying a cyan-colored drink. The smooth expanse of your back in that revealing dress nearly made him come in his pants right there and then.
Cracking his neck muscles, Toji walked up to the bartender, positioning himself about two meters away from where you sat. He pulled out a cigarette and flicked the silver lighter, flaming the end of the dart. Drawing in the first drag, he exhaled a plume of smoke. “I’ll take a whiskey.” 
Giving you a casual once-over, Toji noticed you tracing circles on the table, lips in a pout, and eyes blinking languidly.
“Rough day?” he asked, settling into the seat beside you.
“You have no idea—” You looked sideways and met the dark green eyes of the attractive stranger. Your nails were now idle on the table, and you sat up straight. A breath caught in your chest, and you greeted him with a simple "Hi."
“Hi.” He pulled out the cigarette to take a sip, lips pulling in to savor the sharp taste of his whiskey. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, sweetheart.” 
Your chest skipped a beat at the unexpected nickname. "I-I— Are you stalking me or something?"
“Stalking is a strong word, doll. I prefer 'casual observation.'”
“So you’re stalking me?” 
The stranger chuckled, and your knees quivered from the husky, rough sound. “You're a vision, sure,” he said, his voice a slight victim to the smoking, “but I’m too much of a gentleman to do such a thing.” 
You observed his clothes closely. He was dressed in a sleek black formal ensemble with impeccably shiny Oxfords. However, his hair was neatly combed down instead of styled up, and you caught the silver hoop adorning his left ear. The idea of him being sent by your mother or being the son of one of your father's friends quickly crossed your mind, but you ruled out the possibility. Maybe him being outside that café and being here was a complete coincidence.
“The name’s Toji.” He extended his hand for a shake. You glanced at the faded scars on the back of his hands. And when you hesitantly slipped your hand through his, the roughness of his palm rubbed against your softer one. “Ever washed a dish in your life, sweetheart?” 
A shake of your head was all the admission he needed.
"Yeah, figured as much." Toji turned your hand, his thumb tracing a journey along its unblemished terrain.
You quickly took back your hand and placed it on your lap. “I’m sure you know my name.” 
Toji tilted his head. “Am I supposed to?” 
You blinked. In a world where your family name echoed through the corridors of the hotel, his genuine ignorance was a rarity. "I'm Y/N.”
"Y/N," he echoed, your name a lazy caress on your skin. Above the rim of his nearly empty glass, he regarded you with a watchful gaze. “The fuck is that, anyway? Windex?” 
You raised your drink. “It’s a mocktail. I have a family dinner in an hour so I can’t drink. My father says it’ll impede my ability to talk. I can’t mess anything up.” 
He half-rolled his eyes. “You like Coke?” 
“Like, the soda?” 
"What else, sweetheart?" He swiped a finger under his nose, throwing in a wink. "Unless that's your thing."
“No.” Your cheeks heated. “I like diet Coke, I suppose.” 
Toji locked eyes with you and signaled the bartender. "Vodka diet coke for the lady."
"What?" You started to object, but Toji's hand clasped around your forearm, freezing you. “Remove your hand right now.” 
He raised his hands in mock surrender, a grin playing on his lips. If he weren't so irritatingly charming, you might have considered introducing your mocktail to his face with a quick call to security as a chaser. “Just don’t want you to die knowing you never tried vodka.” His cheeks hollowed as he inhaled, exhaling wisps of smoke that danced in captivating swirls. “Ever smoked?” 
You shook your head, a coy resistance to his vices obvious on your face. "It's detrimental to your health, you know. Consistent smoking can fast-track your journey to an early death. If you're aiming for more than thirty candles on your birthday cake, I'd advise a little moderation."
A sardonic chuckle escaped him. “Well, fuck.” He inspected the dart in his hand as if it held the secrets of the universe. “Guess I missed the invitation for my funeral five years ago.”
He’s old. 
“Too old for you, sweetheart?” He dipped his head conspiratorially, locking eyes with you. "Hope you're not collecting a set of daddy issues like souvenirs."
You shot him sidelong glances, a subtle shake of your head. "I happen to like my dad, thank you very much."
“You’re welcome.” 
You couldn’t help but let out a small puff of a laugh at his response. 
He shot you a grin, his scar stealing a moment of your attention before the vodka diet Coke presented itself. “You still in school?” 
You nodded. “University.” 
“Yeah? You like it?”
“Keeps me distracted.” 
“From?” 
Your hand swept through the ambience of the hotel's bar, and Toji followed your motion, absorbing the surroundings. “I don’t know if my name rang a bell at all, but I’m to inherit this place.” 
“Didn’t.” Toji raised his glass, gesturing his chin at the vodka diet coke in front of you. “Let’s drink to it.” 
“I told you I can’t. I’m also lightweight. Besides, I don’t want it on my tab. My father keeps a check—”
“My father this, my father that.” Toji sighed, taking your drink and snagging a straw from a nearby container. He placed it near your lips. “Your father might have set the stage, but he can't dictate the play. Take a sip. If you hate it, fuck it. That work for you, sweetheart?"
You frowned at the subtle pressure venting from him. A fleeting swipe of your tongue traced your lower lip, drawing Toji's gaze to the subtle curve. His intense scrutiny left you feeling strangely singled out, a rare occurrence in a world where every tidbit of your life laid at the fingertips of anyone with an internet connection. Your secrets were a vault locked tight, shared with no one but yourself. Indulging in personal interests took a back seat to your responsibilities, and you strictly stuck to a scripted persona to protect your family's reputation. Even something as mundane as sipping on a vodka diet Coke. 
Toji set the drink on the table, slipping a generous tip to the bartender. His financial status seemed modest, likely someone comfortably positioned enough to book a room in your hotel. “Listen, sweetheart, I don’t often give out advice ‘cuz frankly, I'm not exactly an expert on your generation.” He took a final drag of his cigarette, extinguished it under his foot, and nonchalantly dropped the remains into your drink. “But, you might want to dust off that brilliant little brain of yours sooner rather than later. Mind passing me a pen, buddy?” 
The tender handed him a sharpie instead, and Toji scribbled out something on a napkin.
“Are you leaving?” you asked, feeling somewhat disappointed in yourself. You wanted him to ask you more questions. You wanted to know more about him. 
“Afraid so, doll.” He folded the napkin, both of you surreptitiously scanning the surroundings before he handed it over. A smirk played on his lips, causing you to rethink the urgency with which you accepted it. “Your old man taught you lots of lessons, but seems like 'Stranger Danger' wasn't part of his curriculum, huh?” 
“He doesn’t completely control me.” 
Toji smirked, tapping the folded napkin. “Well, we're about to test that theory."
He left you perched on the barstool, and the moment he vanished, you unfolded the napkin, heart pounding.
ROOM 1231. 
Sooner or later.
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Listen, I know we all have stuff to do and summer is coming up and aaaaaaaargh, but in the name of Optimus Prime I'm begging y'all to shed the habit of using descriptors like 'the shorter one' or 'the blond one' instead of using proper names.
This is a very common trope in fanfiction, and I get it, it gets so boring to write the character names over and over again. I also know it will be so hard to unlearn, don't ask me about the pain and suffering I have endured. But you have to break yourself out of this habit, because all it's doing is making your stories harder to follow and losing your readers.
Let's say you're writing an Avengers fanfic, and you've got Captain America, Iron Man, and Thor in the room together. The following scene might go a little something like this:
"We must stop Unicron," the blond one said, flexing his muscles.
"Indeed," the dark-haired one replied. "If only he weren't so handsome for a metal monster."
"Thou is speaking nonsense," the bearded man said, subtly flexing his biceps harder. "Also, who is speaking right now?"
(Yes, I did write Unicron instead of Ultron like I'm pretending not to be a nerd, shut up.)
The actual dialogue tag indicators above are nonsense, pure gibberish, and those exaggerated for effect, wouldn't it just be easier to follow if you just used names? Also, sometimes Tony's goatee is more beard-like so it's even less helpful in figuring out who's talking. Depends on what era of comics you're reading.
ANYWAY, Who is doing what is one of the most important things you need to convey. In a busy dialogue scene, in a high action scene, especially in a romance scene between two people of the same gender, clarity is key. It feels boring to write, I know. It will be a better scene in the end.
So when should you use character descriptors in your writing?
When you need to reiterate an important character feature that is either relevant to how the main character views them or how they view themselves. Example: Her brother, the soldier, the Hobbit, etc.
When you need to reiterate an important character feature to the plot. Example: The god of thunder, the stowaway, the white witch, etc.
When you have a minor character who is better defined by their job or role than there name. Example: The second mate, the boatswain, the cook, etc.
When appropriate to the scene. This one is harder to define, but if you have a quiet moment where the main character reflects on the scoundrel he has a crush on, long paragraphs of just using the name Alex might be better peppered descriptors of his personality or notable features, or - depending on your character - 'that cocky asshole.'
When shouldn't you use character descriptors? When they are boring, unhelpful, and not distinctive. Referring constantly to someone as "the taller man" or "the blonde" will come back to haunt your ass years down the road, believe me. Break free from this prison before you snap awake at 3am, haunted by the one stupid scene you can never unwrite.
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khaylin27 · 6 days
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Fresh Out The Slammer
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pairing: oscar piastri x norris reader; lando norris x sister reader; talks about carlos sainz x norris reader (past relationship)
series: the tortured poets department
synopsis: 'fresh out the slammer,' slammer meaning jail. y/n looks back at her old relationship with carlos sainz as if it was like being in prison. she's finally escaped and found love with oscar piastri.
warnings: ptsd; the media being horrible
author's note: I'M IN LOVE WITH THIS!!! hope y'all like it 🥺
Another summer taking cover, rolling thunder He don't understand me Splintered back in winter, silent dinners, bitter He was with her in dreams
You wake up distraught and sweaty in the middle of a hot Australian summer night. It was because of a dream you had about Carlos with the whores you would see him with.
"Are you okay honey?" Oscar mumbles. He notices the state that you were in, it was like you were struck by thunder. "Let me get you water."
Oscar turns on the lamp by his bedside to then go to the kitchen you get you a glass of water. Once Oscar comes back to give you the water, he gives you a minute before asking the question. "What's wrong honey?"
"I ... had a dream about Carlos," you take a deep breath and continue talking. "It felt so real. I felt like I was back with Carlos and seeing him with whores while I was alone splintered back in winter. I remember I would eat my dinners in silence and be bitter that Carlos was with girls while I was alone."
Oscar can tell it was still hard for you to talk about your past relationship with Carlos, you did spend 3 years with him. "I don't think I will fully understand or feel what you went through with your relationship with Carlos. My past relationships have been short term. But I will always be here to listen and comfort you." He hugs you so that you two can cuddle back in bed.
"Thank you for always being there even when you don't understand." You lightly kiss him and fall back to sleep. Slowly you were breaking free from the slammer of the trauma you had with your past relationship and healing with the love of your life.
Years of labor, locks and ceilings In the shade of how he was feeling But it's gonna be alright, I did my time
The 2024 season started back up at the beginning of March at the Bahrain Grand Prix. You were excited to be back in paddock to support your brother and your boyfriend. They had both left early in the morning to start practicing for qualifying.
Once you got into the paddock, you see the Ferrari garage and remember the years of labor, locks, and ceilings you went through with Carlos and Ferrari. It was always in the shade of how Carlos was feeling, Ferrari red.
As you walk past the Ferrari garage to get to McLaren garage, you hear a voice that was familiar to you. "Y/N!" It was Alexandra.
"Oh my god! Hi, Alex." You both hug. One of the things you actually miss from Ferrari was your friendship with Alex.
"How are you? It's been so long!" She exclaimed. "The last time we saw each other, it was a bad time." Last time you saw Alex was at your failed wedding with Carlos.
"I've genuinely been doing good." You smile sympathetic to Alex. "I'm happier than the last time we saw each other. How are you and Charles?"
"We're doing amazing!" She says happily. "We're having a baby boy soon."
Your eyes widen at what Alex had spilled. "You're having a baby!"
"Oh not an actual baby," she giggles. "We're getting our baby dachshund in a few weeks."
"Oh my god! That's so exciting! You need to post pictures of him as soon as you get him." You exclaim to Alex about the puppy her and Charles were getting soon.
Speaking about Charles, he comes up and Alex with none other than Carlos with him. This will be the first time seeing each other physically. "Hi, Y/N. How are you?" Charles asks.
"I'm doing very well. Alex was telling me you guys are getting baby dachshund in a few weeks." You notice that Carlos was staring at you while you were talking to Charles. You just ignore him and pay attention to your conversation with Alex and Charles.
Alex tells Charles about what she said about the baby dachshund. "We're excited about starting our family by adding Leo." Charles smiles while talking about his baby dachshund. "But one day, we'll start our own human family."
'I'm happy for you guys for starting a family." You smile at them. "I've always wanted to start a family of my own. Right Carlos?" You ask him since he was listen to the conversation as well. He was too stunned to speak.
While you were waiting for Carlos to respond, two drivers wearing papaya colored race suits join the conversation. "What are we talking about?" Lando asks.
"We were talking about Charles and Alexandra starting a family by them getting a dog." Carlos says completely ignoring your question. He notices Oscar back hugging you while you're listening to the conversation.
"I'm getting a nephew! I thought Y/N would give me on before you Charles." Lando says jokingly to the group. Everyone except for Carlos laughs at Lando's joke.
"One day we'll give you a nephew or niece mate." Oscar says to the group then looks at you. "Let me put a ring on her finger and get tied to her first before that." You smile at what Oscar says.
Even though you did your time, it was going to be alright for you. You found the one.
Camera flashes, welcome bashes Get the matches, toss the ashes off the ledge As I said in my letters, now that I know better I will never lose my baby again
Tonight was the race of Saudi Arabian Grand Prix. News got out that Carlos would not be racing since he had to get his appendix removed. You and the rest of the McLaren team sent your sympathies to the Sainz family by sending them flowers and letters wishing him to get better.
As you scan your vip paddock pass through the gates, a bunch of cameras flashed at you with reporters asking you questions. "Y/N is it true that you were happy that Carlos wouldn't be able to race tonight? That he was finally getting his karma for the way he treated you."
"That's a ridiculous and disgusting question ma'am." You says to her in disgust as she points the mic to you. "What type of person would wish evil on a person? Even though Mr. Sainz and I aren't in a relationship, I would never wish evil on him. Earlier today, the McLaren team members and I wrote letters and sent flowers wishing Mr. Sainz and his family to have a smooth and speedy recovery. Get your facts straight next time and have a good rest of your night ma'am." You say your final thoughts and leave to go to the McLaren garage.
You see Oscar waiting for you, "You were really strong out there honey. You spoke nothing but the truth." He says and kisses your temple.
"You're not mad at me for speaking about him, baby?" You ask him.
"No because I know who you are and what your intentions are. That's what I love about you." He smiles at you and you both go into the garage so he can get ready for the night race.
If you were in your previous relationship, he would've got mad at you for speaking to the media. But now you know that you'll never lose your baby again.
****
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f1news Carlos Sainz’s ex fiancé, Y/N Norris, speaks out to a interviewer about her feelings towards Sainz getting his appendix removed. Norris, silencing the rumors that she's happy her ex fiancé isn't racing at the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix, states "Even though Mr. Sainz and I aren't in a relationship, I would never wish evil on him. Earlier today, the McLaren team members and I wrote letters and sent flowers wishing Mr. Sainz and his family to have a smooth and speedy recovery."
Oscar Piastri, Norris' current boyfriend and brother's McLaren teammate, states in an interview after receiving 4th place at the race, "Y/N is the strongest and most compassionate woman I've ever known. It's disgusting that the media asked her if she was happy Carlos was in the hospital. She would never wish evil on him even though she went through the slammer in her relationship with him."
user1 @yourinstagram is so classy. i would’ve wished evil for the man who put me through hell
user2 THE AUDACITY THE INTERVIEWER HAD TO ASK Y/N THAT QUESTION
user3 @oscarpiastri is a keeper @yourinstagram 🥹
user4 @oscarpiastri speaks so highly of @yourinstagram HE’S SO IN LOVE 😭🥺
****
Now, pretty baby, I'm running  To the house where you still wait up, and that porch light gleams To the one who says I'm the girl of his American dreams
After the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix, you and Oscar decided to take a small vacation at Oscar's family home the week before his home race. From there you finally got to meet his parents and his three sisters.
You guys were outside on the porch with the light gleams roasting marshmallows at the camp fire. "Oscar, you need to stop hanging out with Logan because his American traditions are rubbing off on you." One of Oscar's sisters jokingly says in front of the family.
"Well isn't this what American families do? Roast marshmallows in the summer on the pouch. It's a plus that I have the girl of my American dreams." Oscar looks at you smiling.
"You're not even American baby." You laugh at what Oscar said in front of everyone.
And no matter what I've done, it wouldn't matter anyway Ain't no way I'm gonna screw up now that I know what's at stake Here, at the park where we used to sit on children's swings Wearing imaginary rings
But it's gonna be alright, I did my time
Once the rest of Oscar's family went inside the house, Oscar decided to take you to the park near his house. You guys sit down on children's swings talking about the past and future.
"Thank you baby for loving me." You say grateful that you found love again. "Even if I went through a lot."
"Loving you is easy honey. I know you've been through a lot but what matters now is us and our future." He gets off of his swing and drops one knee down in front of you. Your eyes start tearing up. "Y/N these past few months have been nothing but bliss. There's no way I'm screwing up now that I know what's at stake. You have my whole heart."
"Y/N will you marry me?"
You stand up and say happily, "Yes baby. Forever and always."
After years of going through the slammer, you were going to be alright at the end.
Now, pretty baby, I'm running back home to you Fresh out the slammer, I know who my first call will be to (Fresh out the slammer, oh)
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yourinstagram now, pretty baby, i'm running back home to you @oscarpiastri 💍🩵
oscarpiastri i'll always be by your side no matter what 🩶
liked by author
landonorris THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!! MY FAVS ARE GETTING MARRIED!!!
liked by author and oscarpiastri
oscarpiastri you're stuck with me forever @landonorris landonorris i like that yourinstagram excuse me @landonorris he's my FIANCÉ not yours 😒
mclaren congrats @yourinstagram and @oscarpiastri happy for you guys 🥹🧡
liked by author and oscarpiastri
yourinstagram papaya by blood, now papaya through marriage 💍🧡 liked by mclaren
*comments have been limited*
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f1news FRESH OUT THE SLAMMER: Oscar Piastri and Y/N Norris arrive at the Australian Grand Prix after announcing engagement on social media. Congratulations @yourinstagram and @oscarpiastri
user1 I BET CARLOS IS CRYING IN HIS ROOM RN
user2 I'm so happy for my parents 🥹
user3 After years of Y/N being unhappy in her relationship with Carlos, she's finally out of the slammer. She's thriving and now engaged with Oscar!!! 😆
user4 thank you carlos for breaking my girl's heart so that she can be happier without you
tagged: @omgsuperstarg @splaterparty0-0 @2pagenumb @c-losur3
339 notes · View notes
dreamskug · 1 month
Text
[ SUBJECT INTERVIEW: ÍVARR ]
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NICKNAME:
NOT "Gramps". Not for you, anyway. Just my name.
GENDER:
Male.
STAR SIGN:
Why, checking if we’d match? Hah. Was told I’m a Scorpio. 'That check out?
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HEIGHT:
With platforms or without?
ORIENTATION:
If we vibe, nothing else matters. An incubus with neat taste in personalities, I guess.
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NATIONALITY / ETHNICITY:
So, some Scandinavian blood in me - half, actually. Can speak the language, too - 'least something neat daddy gave me, not that the fucker's outdone himself in parenting. Mom’s an American, born in Badlands. Ever heard of her clan? Messed with witchcraft a lot, and summoning even more. Know what I’m getting at? A perfect fuckin' match, weren't they?
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FAVE FRUIT:
- Yeah no. Don't even start with anything citrus. Especially don't peel this shit in front of me, alright? Nasty shit. [Interviewer]: - Just wondering, how do you feel about cardboard boxes? [Ívarr] : - Ain't purring for you, man. But nice one.
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FAVE SEASON:
Fuck summer. You ever felt what's that like - the real winter nights? Pitch fuckin' dark - quiet so thick you hear the snow falling. First time I saw those snowflakes as a kid - can swear I thought they were bees.
FAVE FLOWER:
Cherry blossoms? The fuck I know, man. Ask my mainline, I grab whatever he likes.
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FAVE SCENT:
Expecting me to be like - "Muahaha, the smell of fear"? Seriously, it's apparently a pheromone released in your sweat or some shit. C'mon I'm joking, it isn't my fav - keeps stinking up this damn city. Alright, a freshly baked cake is something I'd kill for.
COFFEE, TEA, HOT CHOCOLATE:
Yeah coffee I guess? Rich, strong, black, with a splash of something fun, make it whiskey.
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AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP:
Woke up just yesterday 'cause my mainline was pulling back my eyelid, imagine? Scared the fuck out of him, no seriously, can sleep through a fuckin' bomb and I'm not joking. Average hours - a shitton honestly? That's how I got my very first cat - Dad got enough of me breaking down every single morning, cause fuck mornings. And he'd be like - this is Snowy, she's gonna live with us and she already had her breakfast, so get the fuck up. How'd I argue with Snowy? You don't mess with Snowy.
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DOG OR CAT PERSON:
See? Check it out - cat fur. Here too. I'm claimed, man - gave up cleaning it up a long time ago. Not to be dramatic, but if there's anything human in me left - it's for them. Fur kids, all mine, what can I say. Two of them adopted - and you bet each of them has a bigger personality than an average gonk.
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DREAM TRIP:
Dream trip, jeez... Somewhere not fucking hot?
FAVE FICTIONAL CHARACTER:
Balrog has style, y'know? Gotta be honest, I feel for the dude. Imagine yourself sleeping deep within the mountains for thousands of years to get awoken by a bunch of motherfuckers? I'd go nuclear too. And this one too, ehh you know GoT? The Targaryen, her, yeah. Burn them all, girl. Boss move.
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NUMBER OF BLANKETS YOU SLEEP WITH:
Man, your questions. I dunno, a half? With my ass covered, or not at all. Bed king sized, lights out, make it pitch black with the window open and you got me passed out.
RANDOM FACT:
One doesn't have to actually summon a demon to get them to come play, d'you know? There's one watching you through my eyes right fuckin' now. Should I introduce him?
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Late to the party, but I remember many of y'all have more than one OC or just created new pixel babies that haven't participated yet, so I'm tagging (with no pressure):
@therealnightcity @wraithsoutlaws @sammysilverdyne @theviridianbunny @th3irin
@a-pirate @chessalein @halkuonn @luvwich @shimmer-like-agirl
@kdval @cybersteal @cyberholic77 @chevvy-yates @morganlefaye79
@anxious--ace @mhbcaps @wormskul @silver-samurai @androgymess
@winkyblinkyandstew @astarionhistears @valsilverhand @drunkchasind @themermaidriot
@pinkyjulien @skelior @medtech-mara @lokiina @timaeusterrored
@tokyofuturnoir @aggravateddurian @sifofasgard @elfjpeg @aurorartz
@lucky38-2077 @dustymagpie @gloryride @stannussy and anyone else who wants to! Also pls DM me if you don't wanna get tagged🖤
211 notes · View notes
persphonesorchid · 2 years
Text
Auburn Skies - MYG
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Summary:  Everyone knows that if your best friend has a little sister, she's off limits. That, and the fact that your best friend will probably kill you if you even think about going near his sister. Yoongi knows this. There's no way he could tell Namjoon that once upon a time you kissed him, drunk in his living room after a break up. So much time's passed since then, too much time to bring it up now, but Yoongi still thinks about it, he's still a little hopeful. Now you're here at the lake house because Namjoon brought you and you clearly have something you want to say to Yoongi. 
Namjoon's gonna kill him.
Genre: 18+, fluff, angst, humor.
Word count: 12k
Warning(s): 18+, smut, oral (m+f receiving) unprotected sex, porn is mentioned. Yoongi and Y/n are BOTH stupid and they need help. Taehyung's trying his best, Seokjin is also trying his best but subtler. Yoongi's convinced that Namjoon's out to get him at every turn. Slight jealousy. Y/n and Yoongi have no idea how to actually hold a conversation like adults, until they do.
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Notes: My addition to the Autumn Leaves Collab, hosted by the beautiful @bangtansmauyeondan !! I had so much fun working on this, and I met so many beautiful people that I'm so grateful for, so happy to call my friends 🥺 I love y'all! Please check out the other authors' fics on the Collab Masterlist! Everyone worked so hard, give my girls some love! Shout out to @blog-name-idk and @xpeachesncream for being absolute aNGELS, beta reading and helping me out when I panicked over this lol, and @madbutgloriouspond for helping me brainstorm. I hope you guys enjoy!! Please leave feedback, I'm nothing but a poor soul seeking validation (and motivation!) to keep going.
If you like my content, please, consider donating if you're able - Here
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"You're staring." Seokjin nudges Yoongi's arm with his, snapping him out of his daze. He catches Seokjin's smirk, and there's a twinkle in his eye that promises nothing good. Yoongi pulls his eyes away from your form, sitting in a chair on the dock away from everyone else with a book in your hand. You're bundled up in a thick sweater and cozy sweatpants, completely lost in your book.
"Was not." Yoongi feels the need to deny it, distracting himself with cutting up onions, focusing on the way the blade of the knife cuts through the vegetable and definitely not the way Seokjin was wiggling his eyebrows at him.
"Sure. I believe you."
Somewhere inside, there is music playing. A Lo-Fi beat that plays softly under the sound of rain. It's kind of sad, if Yoongi is being honest, but he supposes that autumn is a sad season. Nothing but changes all around. The leaves change colours, mixing like paint on an easel in the hands of a melancholy artist drowning in his own solitude. They shift and the vibrancy of summer fades until they die, falling off their homes to go drifting in the wind, or land on the ground to become everyone's problem.
He doesn't really like autumn, when winter is right around the corner and he can feel the cold seeping into his bones no matter how many layers he wears. Always leaving his cheeks and his nose red, and his fingers hurting when the chill gets to them.
You enjoy it though, even reminded him when he picked up you and Namjoon this morning. You were kicking at the pile of leaves in front of Namjoon's apartment complex like a kid, laughing like you didn't have a worry in the world. You greeted him like you hadn't seen him in years, running up to him with Namjoon's scarf wrapped awkwardly around your neck like you were in a rush.
Namjoon is currently skipping stones with Jungkook near the lake's edge, and Yoongi can see he's halfway to giving up because Jungkook is on his competitive streak again.
Namjoon is one of his closest friends. He met him in college when they were both fresh out of highschool and riding on shotgun dreams of being more than what they are. He remembers meeting you during spring break of his junior year, and you were blabbering about getting accepted into the same college as Namjoon; determined to follow your brother to the end of time.
The only word to describe your first meeting was awkward, to say the least. He'd only ever heard of you, with Namjoon going off about you whenever Yoongi lent his ear. His baby sister who was doing so well in school, his baby sister, who to Namjoon, practically hung the moon in the sky. Now, Yoongi thinks he's naturally awkward when meeting new people, he can't help it. Getting to know someone is hard no matter how much you hear about them, even though you've got a pretty good impression just by word of mouth. There were shy 'hi's' and the most soul crushing 'See you later's' when there's little to no chance of ever seeing that person again. Sweaty, nervous hands meeting in shakes and straight lipped smiles.
Now, Yoongi was sure he wasn't too bad at it. And you were good, smiling brightly, not looking as awkward as he felt. What was awkward was the way Namjoon had excused himself to his parent's kitchen, pretending to get a glass of water. Yoongi had followed him with his eyes, because why was he leaving him standing in front of his sister alone?
Yoongi still remembers the chill that went down his spine that morning, as Namjoon watched him dead in the eyes over your head. A look Yoongi had never once received from him before, one that simply said: "If you think anything about my sister that isn't innocent; you will die."
As a best friend, Yoongi respected that. As a man, Yoongi valued his life. He wouldn't dare. It's the code, do not, under any circumstances, think about your best friend's sister romantically or less. You were off limits from the day Namjoon showed Yoongi that picture of you.
Off limits.
Yoongi heard that loud and clear and Namjoon hadn't said a word that day.
You were off limits, still, when you'd called him at ass o'clock in the morning - not Namjoon, your brother who trusted with everything - about some smarmy asshole who thought it was funny to break your heart. When he picked you up outside a bar where you were supposed to meet your boyfriend of a year, standing in the rain, soaked to the bone, crying and slightly drunk.
Looking beautiful even when you had stumbled your way to his car, asking what did you do to deserve getting cheated on. He didn't answer you then, he had too much to say and it wasn't the time, not when you were drunk and wouldn't remember a thing when the sun came up. So he cranked up the heat in his car, and white knuckled the steering wheel the whole drive to his apartment, because yours was too far and it was late.
Off the whole damn table, when you'd kissed him on the mouth, still drunk, still crying and clinging onto him in his living room. He pushed you gently away, even as he licked his lips to chase the taste of you. Keeping the distance between you both wide as he watched you shatter like glass in his hold. You apologized through your sobs, and Yoongi's own heart broke as he tried and failed to pick up the pieces of yours scattered at your feet.
You asked him not to tell Namjoon, and Yoongi never said a damn word. You slept in his bed that night, in his clothes that were way too big for you, and left the next day like nothing happened.
You're still off limits now, even as you've grown up and are going into your senior year. Now that Yoongi finished college and had a job like a responsible adult, now his biggest worry is the price of bread climbing up and whatever the hell was on the news.
"Namjoon, we agreed that you weren't gonna come within 10ft of this space."
Yoongi looks up to find Namjoon wandering aimlessly towards them, holding a bowl of something in his hand. He stops dead in his tracks though, frowning, "I'm not that clumsy."
Yoongi and Seokjin share a look, before raising an eyebrow each at Namjoon. He sighs, lifting the bowl in his hand, "Hobi told me to tell you that Jungkook told him..."
"For Christ's sake..." Seokjin sighs, "Just get over here."
Namjoon grins like a kid, hobbling over to place the bowl next to Yoongi's busy hands. The bowl filled with slices of pork belly that Yoongi forgot he told Namjoon to fetch for him a long while ago. Too distracted to ask about it when he was skipping stones with Jungkook, he didn't even notice when he'd moved to get it.
He wonders what else he missed, lost in his own thoughts, and his eyes dart around to catch sight of you. Of course, you were no longer in the spot you'd claimed, now standing next to Jungkook. Both of you are laughing at Jimin, who was struggling to reach a branch of a tree that Jungkook could easily reach without stretching. You attempt it, jumping to reach, but you just don't make it and it's Jimin's turn to laugh, all crescent eyes and round cheeks.
At least someone's having fun.
Seokjin was mumbling something as he pokes at the coals in the grill, and Yoongi avoids looking at Namjoon because he realised he's staring again. He's awfully quiet, and Yoongi isn't sure if it's because of him, and he really doesn't want to risk his life here.
"'Autumn is the season that teaches us that change can be beautiful.'" Namjoon says, and Yoongi finds that he wasn't even looking his way. Instead, he was watching the lake with an odd look in his eyes, distant, like if he was thinking about something too hard and struggling to grasp it. At the same time though, he looked like he knew exactly what he was talking about; smiling to himself. He pats Yoongi cryptically on the back - a little forcefully - catching him off guard, and says nothing more as he walks away.
"We all know what it means when Joon starts quoting." Seokjin snickers, "You're so screwed."
Yoongi hums, and Seokjin gives him a knowing look, a look that says way more than what Yoongi is comfortable with, and he wonders, briefly, if he was being obvious, or if Seokjin was more observant than he gave him credit for.
"I hope the weather holds up." Seokjin mumbles, head tilted up and leaning slightly forward over the table to see past the awning above, he watches the sky with a small frown, "Said it was gonna rain sometime today."
Yoongi is grateful for the subject change, dumping the seasoning he chopped up into a bowl. He glances at the lake, at the reflection of the clouds on the water, they look a little gray with the promise of rain. He doesn't mind the rain, though, if it does, Taehyung's plan of sitting around the fire with marshmallows on a wire would be completely dashed.
Yoongi's not sure he could deal with the kid pouting all night because of it, and he hoped that the weather held up, too.
When lunch was ready, it was a little after two pm. The picnic table was clear of leaves that were raked to the side and into piles to deal with later. Hoseok finally crawled out of the bunk room, hair sticking up in odd angles and eyes sleepy still as he helped set the table with you and Jimin.
Yoongi walks over to the table with the small cooler he'd brought with him, packed full with ice and cans of beer, because what's lunch without it?
Seokjin walks behind, still prattling on about the weather, hoping for a little sunshine later on so he could get in the rowboat and swing his fishing rod around. He may have asked Yoongi if he wanted to come with him, but Yoongi was once again distracted; your soft laugh tunnelling his focus.
He sighs, internally, because God forbid anyone hears and starts asking invasive questions. Taehyung, of course, was clinging to you, not letting you move two spaces out of his orbit. Which of course, wasn't strange, Taehyung was just clingy that way; always stuck to someone like a kitten that hasn't yet learned to regulate its temperature.
The sight of it though, makes Yoongi's chest ache in a way that wasn't unfamiliar to him. The kind of ache that squeezes tight and knocks the air out of him, the ache he felt that night in his apartment living room when you kissed him. Thinking about it now makes the ache worse, because Yoongi knows what that kiss was, he knows what it meant and exactly where it came from. You were reeling that night, fresh out of a relationship that ended in a way you never saw coming, and that's where it came from. You were drunk, hurting, and attached yourself emotionally to the first person to treat you nicely.
It just happened to be Yoongi at the time.
He hates to think about it that way, as though it meant nothing when he wanted it to mean something. Yoongi likes to take things the way they came, there's nothing more than what it was, nothing to decipher or to sit and mull over. Not like he did that night, sitting up late on his couch, long after you'd passed out, then beating himself up about the whole thing because he was this close to laying his heart out at that moment.
He's glad he didn't. When you left the morning after, he wasn't even awake, woke up to his empty bed and quiet apartment. No note, no text - not that you owed him anything - so he left it as it was; unspoken.
He passes everyone a beer, avoiding your gaze when your hand brushes his, ignoring the soft smile on your lips that brightens your eyes and makes his chest hurt. He moves around the table and takes his seat in between Seokjin and Hoseok. He's sitting directly across from you, and to his rotten luck, Namjoon sits to your left, which puts Yoongi within his direct line of sight. He wonders if he'll be able to keep his eyes to himself, not get caught staring at you, even if your brother wasn't even paying him mind. Yoongi is cautious, still.
The chatter that fills the air is gentle, with laughs and catching up with each other. It was hard to find the time to do things like this, everyone was busy with their own schedules; the younger ones had school, the rest of them had work. Shit always get in the way.
Yoongi eyes Taehyung, who sits to your right and was poking at your arm more than he was eating. He had half a mind to tell Taehyung to quit it, the little devil on his shoulder telling him that he should; poking at his cheek and pointing. It isn't his place, though.
There's a twinkle in Taehyung's eye when their eyes meet, something mischievous that Yoongi would normally see from him when he was up to something. He turns slightly to you, whispering something to you with a hand covering the movement of his lips.
Yoongi's curious, he wonders what he's saying that makes your cheeks flush a pretty shade. Wonders what it is, when your eyes meet his for a second and you swat at Taehyung's hand. The younger man was clearly pleased with himself, smiling eyes meeting Yoongi's for a second too long, and Yoongi busies himself with stuffing his mouth with food.
"Think the water's cold?" Jungkook was looking out at the lake, doe eyes curious, his tongue absently fiddling with the ring in his lip.
"It's still early in the season..." Jimin answers, piling a spoonful of rice onto his plate, following Jungkook's gaze a moment after. "Wouldn't risk it though."
"I mean, you can if you want." Yoongi shrugs, "Just don't complain when you catch a cold."
Jungkook pouts, leaning his weight against Hoseok with a groan. Everyone knows Jungkook well enough to know that's exactly what he'd do, and then abuse his position as the youngest for the rest of their stay at the lake house.
The table was silent for a while, everyone occupied with stuffing their faces with the food, interrupted when Namjoon laughed at something Jimin said and choked on the rice in his mouth and is now nursing a bottle of water.
Yoongi missed this, just hanging out with his friends like they were back in college sneaking beer into the dorms and laughing over their drunken rambles. Just being.
Once lunch was over, they cleared the table of the bowls and plates, carrying everything inside to be washed up.
"I'll do the dishes," Hoseok says, balancing the large pot with plates and eating utensils in his hands.
"I'll do them, Hobi." Yoongi takes the pot from Hoseok's lax fingers, not giving him room to complain before he takes everything to the kitchen.
Yoongi misses the way Taehyung pokes your side, he did hear the smack of you hitting the offending limb, though. "I'll help you."
Yoongi feels his shoulders tense, and he tries to ignore it, setting the pot into the sink, while the boys place the other dirty dishes. He watches you for a moment, as you busy yourself packing away the seasoning and packets of spices back into their rightful places. He starts on the dishes, hyper aware of your presence somewhere behind him, but tries his best to keep it as far from the front of his mind as he could.
At some point, you switch places, and Yoongi takes up the task of drying the bowls and plates, packing them where they're supposed to be. He doesn't question it, just grateful to have something to do with his hands, mindful, to keep his head empty, because if his mind strays just a bit, he'll be thinking of things he really shouldn't. Off limit things. Like how he wished he'd just suck it up and kissed you back that night instead of pushing you away like he did. But, that would've been wrong of him, no? It wasn't the time and you weren't in the right frame of mind.
Yoongi skirts by you, packing the bowls back into the cupboard. This is awkward, maybe he should have let Hoseok do it when he said he would.
"Can I ask you something?" You suddenly ask, and Yoongi almost drops the bowl he's holding, not expecting you to speak because you've been so quiet. He glances over to the living room, where Namjoon and Jin are starting up a game of Mario Kart before he turns to look at you. Why does he always do that? It feels as though he's sneaking around for no reason whatsoever, always looking to make sure that Namjoon isn't looking at him.
"Uh, sure?" God, is it just him that's awkward? You look perfectly fine, elbow deep in soap water, scrubbing away at something in the sink, a small smile on your lips. Yoongi wipes his sweaty hands on his jeans, bringing them back up to stuff them into the pockets of his sweater. Play it cool, Min. "What's up?"
You turn your head, looking at him, and he swallows. The sink slowly drains, making that odd sucking noise as the water goes down and you look like you're struggling to grasp your words. There's a cute furrow between your brows, and Yoongi doesn't miss the way you bite your lip and look everywhere but at him.
Jin swears at Namjoon in rapid fire, in that way he does when he's got too much to say and not enough breath. Yoongi could see his arms flying up and swatting at Namjoon's shoulder, yelling about the blue shell he threw.
You take a breath, eyes settling somewhere above his head, clearly trying to block out Jin's racket, "Well...um..." You glance at him and look away, and Yoongi's just a little hopeful.
You look nervous, for once, wringing the life out of the dish towel in your hand as you press your lips together. There's a crease at your brow and Yoongi wonders what's bugging you. There were times when you'd freely spill your thoughts, up with him all ungodly hours just talking because that's what brother's best friends do, right? Offer comfort and a space to vent that isn't in the viewpoint of your sibling? He wonders what changed.
He knows though. It was that night, after that, things have been tense between you both, Yoongi just wishes it'd stop. He misses you texting him to tell him how your day went, or you constantly reminding him that he's way cooler than your older brother. He watches you now, if just to see you get even more flustered, even though he didn't know why.
Hope is an evil, never necessarily a good thing, if all it does is make you believe that something would work even though there's a slim chance that it actually would. Yoongi hates that he's hopeful right now. Hates that he's hoping that the flush of your cheeks and your nervous fidgeting has something to do with him, he hates that he wished you'd just spit it out already and stop his mind from coming up with all these things.
"Okay." You sigh, nodding more to yourself in a self-assured kind of way. Your eyes find his, briefly, before darting away, "Okay, so, I wanted to-"
"Hey, Y/n. Wanna play a round of Mario Kart with me?" Taehyung asks, walking into the kitchen with a smile, eyes filtering between you and Yoongi before they settle on you again. He pauses when you snap your mouth shut, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth and slowly look at him. You and Taehyung share a look that Yoongi's not too certain he wants to know what's about; the silence between you three is too loud.
"What?" the younger man asks, "Did I interrupt something?"
"No."
"Yes."
Yoongi stares at Taehyung, trying his hardest not to glare at him, because what you wanted to say was clearly important. You were staring at him, Yoongi could feel it, but he's giving you an opening to say what you need to.
"No, Tae, you didn't. I'll play." You smile a little forcefully, finally giving the dishcloth a break and laying it down on the island counter. "I'll tell you later?" You tilt your head at Yoongi and he can only nod, hopeful again, that you really would and not find an easy out.
"Okay."
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"Tae, can't we do this later or something?" You frown, speaking lowly as he wraps his arm with yours and drags you away, "I was actually really close this time."
"Yeah, no. You looked like you needed saving. So you're welcome." Taehyung shakes his head, curls swaying, "One day, little butterfly, you'll be free to spill your feelings." He sits you down on the couch next to Namjoon, who thankfully, has his earphones in his ears. Jin had already wandered off to do God knows after his defeat, leaving your brother to fiddle mindlessly with his phone.
You can hear Yoongi moving around in the kitchen, probably still packing away the dishes. Taehyung plops next to you, throwing his legs over yours and almost knocking Namjoon's phone out his hands. He starts up the game after passing you a remote, smiling at you, "He'll probably come over here to watch the game, so I'll lose and he could play against you, yeah?"
"Tae..." You groan, tilting your head back, and he pats your arm in a friendly manner, though a little firm in his delivery.
"If you don't tell him now that's fine..." He points at Namjoon with a tilt of his chin, trying to remind you of your brother's presence without being obvious. "But at least you could spend time with him. Never know what could happen." He wiggles his eyebrows.
Evidently, Taehyung's the only person who knows about that night with Yoongi. He was the one who picked you up from his apartment after all, firing question after question and not giving you room to breathe. Though he was a tad upset that he wasn't your first call when you were stranded, he understood why you'd called Yoongi. At the same time, he gave you an earful about just leaving the man hanging after you kissed him. Something you shouldn't have done in that moment, lord knows what Yoongi thinks of you now.
You've tried and failed so many times to tell Yoongi that you weren't as drunk as you seemed that night three months ago, you knew what you were doing. You were hurt, yes, but it was more out of realisation. Your relationship with your ex had been rocky at best, you'd given into his advances to hopefully put your crush on Yoongi behind you. It was easy at first, to have someone to put your focus on and give yourself to rather than to waste it on someone who didn't see you the way you saw him.
Yoongi has always seen you as his best friend's sister, nothing more. And you'd kissed him that night hoping that even for a second he'd realise, but he pushed you away and you knew there was no use hoping.
Even now, embarrassment still burns at your chest when you think about it, because what were you thinking? You'd left without saying anything to him because you were positively mortified. There were hundreds of unfinished texts that started and ended the same, with you contemplating if you should tell him or not.
More often than not, a tipsy night would find you huddled under your sheets with your finger hovering over Yoongi's contact.
It was more likely that he still saw you as the fresh out of highschool kid who followed him and your brother everywhere.
You groan loudly at your own thoughts, and Taehyung turns his head, looking between you and the TV screen, "Uh....You can play Toad if you want.."
"Huh?" The choose your character screen is up, idle, waiting for you to move your joystick around. Taehyung's already picked, "No, it's not that. I don't even like Toad, you can play him."
"That's the rudest thing that's ever come out of your mouth." Taehyung pokes your side with a finger, "What's on your mind?"
"Everything." You sigh, scrolling around to pick a random character. Don't get it wrong, you love Mario Kart as much as the next guy, but right now your mind was far, far away from this moment and the game.
Taehyung pats your thigh, "Maybe losing will help." He snickers, just as the game starts up.
"Oh, you're on." You're not gonna lose, no matter how confident Taehyung is, no one could beat you at Mario Kart.
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"Cheater! TaehYUNG. Joon tell Tae to stop do- You're cheating!"
"It's literally impossible to cheat at this game!"
Yoongi leans back against the island counter, content to watch you crash and burn as Taehyung wins yet another race. His victory laugh is deep, almost unheard under the sound of your indignant screeching. The rest of the boys gathered to see what you were yelling about, finding the sight of your losing streak more than entertaining.
Yoongi had paused only for a moment, making a light snack that everyone could enjoy if they wanted to, though, it was only an excuse to make your favourite. He watches as you scoot to the edge of the couch, he can't see your expression, but he doesn't doubt that you're pouting with the cute furrow of your brows that comes with your concentration.
"Namjoon." You whine to your brother, though Namjoon's hands fly up into the air, phone and all.
"Nope, leave me out of this."
"But he's cheating!"
"I'm not! You just suck."
Yoongi picks up the tray of Hotteok as soon as everyone calms down, carrying it over to the group. He rests the tray down on the coffee table, careful to move quickly so he doesn't block the screen for too long.
"Oh! Sweet! Thanks Yoongi." Namjoon is the first to move, leaning forward to grab one.
"Wait, Joon. They're ho-" Yoongi snaps his mouth shut as Namjoon has already picked it up. He promptly drops it, pulling air through his teeth before blowing on his fingertips.
"Ow." Namjoon pouts at his fingers, rubbing them against the material of his grey sweats.
Yoongi sighs, "Be careful, would you?" He focuses on the TV screen, you're directly behind Taehyung, throwing a blue shell that sends him skidding off the road just in time for you to cross the finish line.
"Ha!" You push at Taehyung's shoulder in your excitement, sending him against Namjoon, who drops his Hotteok on the floor.
Namjoon stares forlornly at the pancake for a quiet moment, while you do a victory wiggle in your place, his misfortune ignored.
"Well there you go, who wants to play?" Taehyung asks, glancing around the room. Jungkook waves his arm, getting up from his space on the floor by Hoseok's legs to totter over. "Yoongi! Nice of you to volunteer."
"What? I didn't...?" Yoongi stares at Taehyung like he's sprouted a second head.
Taehyung ignores him.
"Hey I wanted to play..." Jungkook whines, Taehyung ignores him, too.
"Guys, let's go take a nap in the bunk room." He stretches his long legs over Namjoon's, pulling him up by the arms and shares a look with Jungkook who was likely, as confused as everyone else.
"I'm not tired, though. I napped when I got here." Hoseok pipes up, pressing his lips together when Jimin not so subtly nudges his side with an elbow.
"Let's go take a nap." Taehyung repeats, eyes narrowing slightly at Hoseok. He relents under Taehyung's gaze, sighing as he stands and drags Jimin and a complaining Jungkook.
Taehyung smiles brightly, dropping his hands heavily on Yoongi's shoulders. Yoongi doesn't know what the kid's playing at, but allows him to direct him to sit next to you.
Yoongi shares a look with Seokjin, who shrugs and stands to leave too, linking his arm with Namjoon, "I found a book I think you'd like Joon. But we have to look for it, it's lost in my bedroom somewhere..."
"Oh...Kay? Sure."
Their voices trail off as they head up the stairs, and Taehyung waves as he backs out of the living room, with a sweet - suspicious - boxy smile."Have fun you two!"
"Okay what the hell." Yoongi mutters, turning his head to look at you. You didn't look his way, staring dead ahead at the TV, fingers tapping lightly at the control.
He hears you take a breath, "Wanna play Toad?"
"Uh...sure."
A few minutes go by before Yoongi could finally relax, getting comfortable on the couch focusing on the game and not the fact that you're less than a metre away from him. You're nibbling on a piece of hotteok, a little too quiet for Yoongi's liking. He was expecting you to be yelling because he's way ahead of you.
"So...can I ask you a question?" Yoongi keeps his eyes on the screen as he asks, afraid to look at you because he might slip up or stop all together. He could already hear the little voice in his head screaming at him to shut up. "I just wanna ask about...what you wanted to tell me in the kitchen?"
Yoongi doesn't normally pry, people's business are theirs and not his. But curiosity is driving him up a wall and he just needs to know. Maybe he was being foolishly hopeful again, thinking that whatever it was had something to do with him. That's why you hadn't said anything when Taehyung interrupted, right?
Yoongi wonders what Taehyung's deal was, first he was being too clingy with you - not that it's any of his business - and now he's acting so painfully obvious; trying to get you both in a room alone. It didn't go over Yoongi's head, as not a lot of things do.
He purposely lets you win the race, though, your victory was unsounded as you set the controller aside. "Right... kitchen..."
"You know you could tell me anything, right?" Yoongi says softly, fingers just wanting to reach for yours, if just to offer comfort. He tucks them against his palm though, and into the pouch of his sweater for an extra precaution.
"Yeah I know," You smile faintly, "like old times right?"
"Yeah exactly, and I won't judge, you know that. So whatever it is, just say it."
Maybe his words were a bit harsh? You stiffen a bit in place, sighing through your nose before you turn to look at him. The determination from earlier is back in your eyes again, and Yoongi finds it impossible to hold your gaze, and he's the first to look away this time. Keep it together, will you?
He feels heat climbing his neck, racing to each of his cheeks and he hopes to god you just think he's going pink because it's cold in here. Seokjin really needs to get that crappy heater fixed so Yoongi can blame something if you ask about it.
"Okay so remember the time when you-"
"You two are being awfully quiet." Seokjin pokes his head into the room, staring at you both, but not too long, before his eyes find the tv screen. "Oh, Yoongi, did you win?"
"No..." Yoongi sighs, watching as you shut him out once more.
"Really? It was so quiet..."
You make an offended sound in the back of your throat, straightening a bit to glare at Seokjin.
"Yoongi, can you help me with the firepit?"
Yoongi follows Seokjin outside along the wrap-around porch, the sun was halfway in its descent, painting the sky in a flurry of soft colours. The lake glistens with amber crystals, catching the sun's sleepy gaze as it drifts slowly off behind the hills; almost out of sight.
The sunken fire pit was in the backyard, something Yoongi helped Seokjin install last year. He's quite proud of it really, he did most of the heavy lifting while Seokjin stood around telling him how and where he wanted things like a glorified dictator.
As Seokjin gathers the firewood and steps down the three steps to throw the logs into the firepit, Yoongi realises that he didn't actually need any help.
"Watching you try to talk to Y/n is so painful. Like that time I broke my arm but worse."
"I actually wasn't doing the talking." Yoongi grumbles, enjoying the satisfying crunch of gravel under his sandals as he walks over to the cushioned semi circle bench and sits to watch Seokjin do all the work. "You have terrible timing."
Seokjin scoffs, shaking his head, "It's a wonder Namjoon hasn't figured it out yet...you're so obvious."
Yoongi feels like Seokjin just isn't listening to him, continuing his mission of getting the fire going; his words completely ignored.
"Joon is oblivious sometimes."
"You are too."
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"Here, this one's longer."
Yoongi watches as Seokjin trades wires with Jungkook, patting him on the shoulder as the younger man happily sticks his marshmallow on the end of his wire. As usual when they're all together, there's laughter in the air, and the lightness Yoongi feels in his chest is something he misses when he's alone.
He watches the moon rise behind the trees, full and glowing brightly in the cloudless sky. The fire was warm, the burning wood crackling softly, sending little glowing sparks up into the air. Everyone had their own bag of marshmallows for toasting, with chocolate and biscuits for s'mores.
"This is nice," Hoseok comments, smacking Jimin's hand away from the smores he was setting up, tucking them into the corner of a small bowl he brought. Jimin gets one anyway; sneaking it away while Hoseok wasn't looking.
"Yeah, we haven't done this in forever." Namjoon sticks the wire with his marshmallow a little too close to the fire.
"It's gonna burn if you do it like that." Yoongi reaches over and raises Namjoon's hand higher.
"When it's burnt it's the best, though."
"Are you a sadist?" Taehyung frowns at Jungkook, "it's better when it's just a little toasty."
"It won't melt inside if you play kiss and tell with the fire. You gotta burn it." Jungkook's marshmallow was just on the edge of charred and Yoongi watches with mild disgust as he smushes the thing between pieces of chocolate and unsweetened biscuits. He shoves the entire thing in his mouth and closes his eyes, moaning around the treat like it's the best thing he's ever tasted.
"Um? There's no way you're enjoying that." Hoseok didn't try to hide how he felt about it, narrowing his eyes at Jungkook. "Stop moaning like that!"
"I wasn't moaning!"
"Yes you were!"
Yoongi shakes his head, turning to look at you, who sat next to him, eating out of your own bag of marshmallows. The wire Seokjin had given you is still in your lap, untouched.
"Want me to make one for you?" He asks softly, already sticking a marshmallow on his wire. He hangs it over the fire and twirls it so it gets nice and brown, "Do you want it with the cookies?"
"Yeah, thanks." You smile sweetly at him, and Yoongi feels his heart stutter in his chest.
Once he's finished assembling the s'more, he hands it over to you. You take a bite out of it, and Yoongi struggles to breathe the very next second at the sound you make, turning his head swiftly to stare into the fire as though it would save him.
"Dude, Y/n. That's gotta be the best s'more ever created." Taehyung says, snickering from across the firepit, "Yoongi make me one, too!"
"You can make it yourself." Yoongi's cheeks flush, passing you a bottle of water when you choke.
"I wanna make happy noises, too."
When the fire in the pit smolders and the embers of the wood burn orange, everyone is ready to call it a night. The younger ones escape to the second floor bunk room first, Seokjin and Hoseok right behind them.
Hoseok is trying to convince Seokjin to flip a coin for the master bedroom while they go up the stairs.
"Owner's rights, Hobi."
"You have any idea what it's like to share a bathroom with those three? Have a heart!"
Their voices fade, and Yoongi is left standing in the entryway with you and Namjoon, feeling awkward and not quite sure what he should do with his hands. So he shoves them in the pockets of his sweatpants, and drags his feet towards the kitchen, suddenly thirsty.
You and Namjoon are talking in hushed tones, too quiet for him to hear, but he pays it no mind, it isn't his business, really.
You come in a second later, moving to the fridge just as Yoongi moves past you, and he's a little curious, a little worried, because you look a bit upset. There's a frown tugging at the corner of your mouth as you crack open a bottle of water.
"Everything okay?" Yoongi asks softly, fingers just itching to reach out for you, but he holds his own bottled water a little tighter instead.
"Yeah...Joon is just..." You shake your head, "Are you staying up to watch the movie with us?"
Your change of subject didn't surprise Yoongi, you've been doing that a lot today. He lifts his shoulder in a shrug, "I might...do you want me to?"
Yoongi would give you anything you ask for right now, hell, he'd find a way to pull the moon from the sky if you asked it of him.
"Huh?" Your eyes seems panicked for a second as they dart away to stare off elsewhere. "If you want to, it's up to you really."
"Then I'll watch." He gives an easy smile, "Are you sure you're okay?" He steps closer, a hand meeting your cheek gently, unintentionally and without Yoongi's consent. Simply out of his need to offer you comfort when he can, and maybe it's his wishful thinking, maybe it's that stupid thing called hope again; Yoongi swears you lean into his touch. Your skin is warm, like cooling tea on a winter's morning.
"I'm fine," You're staring at his lips as you say this, and Yoongi's heart skips before it gallops, threatening to burst from his chest. Maybe he's imagining it, but you move a step closer, and he does too, leaning down a bit to meet your height, "I just wanted to.."
Just another inch, if he moves just an inch closer. You're so close now that your exhales mingles with his in the space between you both, he could feel the chill seeping off the bottled water you hold, pressed against his stomach where your hands linger.
Yoongi decides he's not going to be awkward right now, he's going to be brave and just do this. He's going to kiss you and pour everything he feels into it, and hope - prays - that you feel it too.
"Ahem."
You and Yoongi both spring apart like teenagers caught doing something they shouldn't. Yoongi's cheeks are heating up too quickly for him to stop it, and yours are too, and he doesn't want to turn around because he knows who's behind him.
Think fast, Yoongi. Think.
"I hope your eye feels better. You should kiss - rinse! Rinse with warm water. 'Cause you know...germs...could uh.... get in there.... "
Really? Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut, already anticipating his death when he turns to face the grim reaper behind him.
Namjoon stands in the kitchen doorway, eyebrow raised, doing that thing he does with his jaw. Yoongi feels a little faint, looking at the ugly painting Taehyung convinced Seokjin to buy and hang up in the living room over his head.
"Y/n had something in her eye and I was just checking." He looks back at you and you look just as confused as he's feeling, smiling though, as if his misery is funny to you. "R-remember. Warm water, okay?"
With that he leaves, not looking at Namjoon, who's gaze he could feel at the back of his head.
"Joon, are you serious?" Your voice was a harsh whisper, a little loud in the silence of the kitchen.
Yoongi walks away, hands in his pockets, not catching Namjoon's reply as he makes his escape. What the fuck was that?
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"Let's watch The Conjuring."
"Fuck that." Hoseok puts his palms up, "Unless you're willing to cuddle me to sleep, we're not watching that movie."
A chorus of groans fills the room, "For the love of God, just pick something already. Not you, Jungkook."
"It's not my fault Hobi's a coward."
Hoseok's reaches over Seokjin to smack the back of Jungkook's head, who immediately retaliates by hitting Seokjin instead. The three of them trade playful smacks for a moment, while Taehyung and Jimin argue about which movie would be best to watch.
"Okay let's just all pick something." You say, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers, "Rock, paper, scissors, whoever wins; we'll watch."
Terrible idea really, everyone knows Jungkook is going to win.
Yoongi opts out, not really caring what goes up on the screen. He's sitting with his hands under his thighs, trying to keep them warm but at the same time, keeping them from doing something stupid. You're right next to him on the couch, he's once again hyper aware of your closeness, the way your arm would brush his every time you moved, the scent of your shampoo, soft and fruit scented.
He focuses on the way a single tear slips from Hoseok's eye, the way he tries to make himself as small as possible on the other couch next to Seokjin with a white knuckled grip on the latter's sweater. Jungkook triumphs in his endeavour of beating everyone who played against him, laughing, carefree and malicious as he pulls up The Conjuring.
Hoseok keeps his head tucked behind Seokjin's shoulder for most of the movie, clinging to him and jumping at every loud sound from the TV; poor guy's going through it.
Yoongi is just barely watching, staring at the screen, but not really following along - he has no idea what's going on. Mind too distracted with the fact that you chose to sit next to him and not next to anyone else. He's still reeling from the incident in the kitchen, glancing at Namjoon who was stuffing his face with popcorn, form outlined in the glow of the tv.
He could feel the warmth of your thigh through his sweatpants, and every little movement you'd make at the jumpscares and the loud sounds.
Hoseok dips halfway through, going up the darkened upstairs hallway with his phone torch on. Jungkook had the audacity to fall asleep, drooling on Seokjin's shoulder and mumbling unintelligible words; unbothered.
"I'm going to bed." Yoongi says to you, not really sleepy, but not interested in the movie enough to stay and watch. You grab at his hand and he pauses, "What?"
"You're leaving me here to suffer?"
"You're a big girl, you can take it." He shrugs, patting your hand before getting up. "Night guys."
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Yoongi lays quietly in his bed, staring up at the ceiling with a frown, unable to sleep. He turns his head, looking at the clock that blinks sleepily back at him and sighs, it's getting later into the night and sleep continues to evade him.
The house seemed to have quieted, the sound of Jimin and Taehyung arguing about who gets to use the upstairs bathroom first stopped a while ago, though, the stillness only allowed Yoongi's mind to wander off. He wonders if you're sleeping yet, he knows you have trouble sometimes, a common curse you both share.
He wonders about what you and Namjoon argued about, if it had anything to do with him. God he hopes not. The last thing he wants is for you and your brother to fall out because of him.
There's a soft knock on his door, quiet enough that he almost misses it. Just almost.
Yoongi gets out of bed, dragging his feet to the door. He isn't completely shocked to find you on the other side, looking like you're two seconds from walking away. Your hand still hovers, eyes impossibly big when they meet his in the soft light of the downstairs hallway.
"Hi." You say, softly, hand falling and gripping at the hem of a tee shirt he's sure belongs to Namjoon.
"...Hi?" Yoongi's brows furrow, not quite sure what you're doing knocking on his door at one in the morning, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just wanted to talk to you..." He lets you shuffle into his room, and you walk over to the bed while he closes the door.
"What I wanted to tell you earlier..." You sit on his bed, a good distance away, enough to leave the space between you both cold and Yoongi longing for you to come closer. You seem to be struggling, staying quiet for a little too long.
"Hey." Yoongi calls, "Whatever it is, you can tell me, okay? You know I'd never judge you." He feels the need to repeat himself, just in case you need to hear it again.
"You will." You glance at him, bottom lip caught between your teeth, and you shake your head, "This was stupid..."
"Hey, hey." Yoongi grabs your wrist, stopping you from getting up. "How about I look over there?" He points at a random spot beside him with a thumb, "I won't look at you and you can just say it." He turns for good measure, staring at the wall on the far side of the room.
You're silent for a moment, a long moment that has Yoongi wondering. Maybe he should stop pestering you about it, bury his curiosity - his concern - in a box somewhere to forget about. He's been on your back about it for most of the day, granted, the universe apparently didn't want you to say anything, not with the way you were constantly interrupted every time you tried to talk about it. He should take that as a sign and drop it all together.
"You okay back there?" Yoongi asks softly, turning his head slightly, but not facing you.
"I wasn't really drunk." You say
Confused, Yoongi's brows furrow, "Huh?" He turns to face you, "What are you talking about?"
"The night you picked me up outside that bar." You're not looking at him, instead, you're looking down at your hands in your lap. The events of that night comes rushing to the front of Yoongi's mind, the way you kissed him, how soft your lips were.
"Wait, so..." Something in Yoongi's ears was buzzing, loud and distracting, as realization dawned, he feels a heat rising from his toes. "You-" he stands quickly from the bed, now that he knows exactly why you've been trying to say all day, he thinks he just might lose it.
"Why'd you leave without saying anything?" It's the first thing out of his mouth and Yoongi wishes he'd just shut up.
"I was embarrassed that I just kissed you out of nowhere like that. And you pushed me away, what else was I supposed to do?" You say in a rush, "I know you only see me as Namjoon's little sister."
"I don't." Yoongi says, and at your pause, his palms start to sweat, heart kicking against his ribcage. "Why did you kiss me that night?"
"You probably think it was because I was drunk. That wasn't it." You look him in the eye, "I wanted to."
Yoongi takes a breath and a moment to think carefully about what he's about to say, "Y/n." He runs his palms against his thighs, bottom lip caught between his teeth. "You were drunk. Just out of a relationship and you only kissed me because you were hurting, that's it."
"That's not-" You sigh loudly, pursing your lips and staring at the ceiling, "Do you even know why I dated that idiot? It's because you..." You trail off, picking at a loose thread on your t shirt.
Yoongi waits, giving you the moment you need to gather your words.
"I dated him so that I could forget you." You say softly, not looking at him, and Yoongi feels like he's buffering, like a frozen computer screen. Just standing there as he processes your words, it's taking a while to sink in, or they have, Yoongi is only trying to understand them. "I thought that dating him you would..."
Yoongi sighs, "Tell me something, yeah?"
You nod quietly, waiting. Yoongi watches you for a moment, he's more curious now, "How long?"
He watches as you fluster, eyes darting around to look at anywhere that isn't him. The way your fingers pinch at the dark sheets on the bed, you draw your bottom lip between your teeth and Yoongi just wants to kiss you. But as he's been doing all day, he gives you a moment; Yoongi is nothing but patient.
"Since we met?"
Is that a question? There Yoongi goes buffering again. He blinks a couple of times, mind going through the motions of his forced epiphany. The moments when you used to follow him and Namjoon around, all the staying up late texting as though you both were more than you were at the time.
"I really really like you and I tried to show you that night, but well..."
You get up from his bed with a sigh and step towards him and Yoongi tries his best not to take a step back, he allows you to reach him, to stand close enough for him to touch. He's panicking, on the inside, a voice in the back of his mind telling him that this is a terrible idea and that he should probably stop you.
He can't bring himself to, words stuck in his throat.
You're closer now, Yoongi could feel the warmth of you, and he swears this time that he'll be brave. So he kisses you first, fingers tangling in your hair, a hand gripping your waist to pull you even closer. He feels your hands against his chest as his eyes close, your lips are warm and as soft as he remembers, and he groans at the taste of you. His tongue finds yours, slowly, sliding against yours and he wants to savour this, commit your every sound to memory. Yoongi groans when your hands slide into his hair, tugging lightly at the nape of his neck.
He pulls back for air, lungs trying to take in as much air as possible, too quickly, he feels lightheaded. But that could just be because of you. He presses a fleeting kiss at the corner of your mouth, nose brushing against yours lightly. He's pretty sure this is what being high feels like, the rushing of his blood in his ears and the tingling at the tips of his fingers.
"You're gonna end me." Namjoon will too. The thought alone was enough to make Yoongi pause, realise the grip he had on your hips. One of his hands is just shy of the exposed skin under your tee shirt, hyper aware of the way your chest is pressed to his, your lips on his neck.
Namjoon is going to kill him.
He feels your teeth nip at the skin of his neck and he hisses between his teeth, your tongue follows. He pulls away, pushing you from him gently to take a couple steps back. He sees the question in your eyes, the soft furrow of your brows. He sighs through his nose, thinking about how much of a terrible idea this was, and how Namjoon would very likely drown him in the lake.
"Y/n...we can't." This was the reason he pushed you away the first time. Yoongi likes to think ahead, think about all the outcomes of a situation before he walks into it. This could go two ways, and Yoongi's mind can only focus on the worst scenario. What if this goes wrong? What if doing this now ruins everything, he'd not only lose you, but Namjoon as well.
He sees your pout and he looks away, wondering why he can't just let it happen and deal with the consequences later. But Yoongi isn't like that. He likes to sit and over think things.
"Is this about Namjoon?"
Yoongi startles at your question, jolting a bit as he drops his hands from your waist, fingers curling against his palm. He's not as good at hiding his thoughts as he presumed, or you just knew him too well for his own good. He answers your question with a silent nod, not meeting your eyes in the darkness of his room.
"Yoongi. He wouldn't care. Namjoon can't do anything, what I do isn't his business."
Yoongi goes to argue that that's not the point. You were so off the mark that he almost laughed, Namjoon wouldn't care what you thought. He wouldn't be able to look past Yoongi even thinking about touching you. So much for being brave.
You sigh, and Yoongi catches the hurt in the sound.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't push me away again, please." You reach for him and Yoongi doesn't stop you, because he can; he doesn't want to. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to."
"Are you sure?" He asks seriously, catching your wrist, ducking his head so that he could meet your eyes properly, "Tell me now that this is okay because when I start I won't stop."
You barely got to nod before Yoongi was kissing you again, pouring everything he had into it, hands moving down to grip at your ass in your cotton shorts. He takes careful steps, walking you backwards towards the bed.
"Just let me take care of you, yeah?" Yoongi gently pushes you back onto the bed, taking his time to strip you out of your clothes. Not letting his worries and doubts stop him from telling you how beautiful you are, or from kissing every inch of skin revealed to his eyes.
He kisses his way down your thighs once your shorts and panties are out of the way, stopping every now and then to nibble at the soft flesh. Your little sighs and moans are something he wants to record and keep with him forever, even though he wouldn't need them to remember.
He touches you lightly, just to tease, sliding his hands down your thighs, eyes locked on your glistening pussy. He wants to draw this out, ignoring your impatient whine and the rise of your hips at his touch. He's waited so long for this, wanting to taste you beyond the kiss you shared so long ago, Yoongi wants to make you beg. Reduce you to a mumbling mess of incoherent words, but at the same time, he too is impatient.
He shushes you gently at your call of his name, fingers parting your folds and watching the way your pussy clenches around nothing at his gaze. "So pretty, baby."
It was your only warning before he dove in, licking a board stripe from your engerance to your clit, focusing the tip of his tongue at the bundle of nerves. You suck in a sharp breath, hand tugging at his hair and it only spurs Yoongi on. He sucks gently in your clit, tongue moving in slow figures and dips a finger into your wet heat. He groans at the way your cunt just sucks him in, arousal dripping down his hand and he adds another, curling them against the soft spot within you.
He looks up at you, past your heaving chest to your fucked out face. Your parted lips, furrowed brows, glazed eyes looking back at him.
"Yoon--fuck."
Yoongi groans lowly in his throat, pressing his tongue flat against your clit, mouth flooding with your taste. He'd stay there forever if you gave him the chance, listening to the way your breath hitches and the sound of your moans and the feeling of your fingers in his hair. He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks harshly. He drives his tongue inside you, and the whine that leaves you has him rutting his hips against the bed. He can't get enough of your taste, the way your pussy clenches he's around his fingers.
"You taste so good, baby." Yoongi loves the way you grip at his hair, the way you tug sends tingles down his spine. He thrusts two fingers inside you, crooking them right, hitting the spot that sends your moans into a higher octave. He can't be bothered with how loud you're being, or if anyone's awake right now and would know exactly what you're both up to. You don't seem to care either, too lost in the pleasure; moaning his name.
"F-fuck, right there," you whimper, thighs tensing around his head. Yoongi groans as he obeys, crooking his fingers and rubbing at the spot that makes you sing so sweetly. His lips never leave your clit, tongue swirling around the swollen nub in figure eights. Dragging his fingers within the tightness of your dripping heat, he could tell you're close, feeling the way your thighs tremble. "Fu-"
Your back arches off the sheets, and Yoongi moans when your release gushes out of you and into his mouth. He stays there and takes it all, until you push at him instead of pull and Yoongi lets up, running his hands up your sides in an attempt to soothe as you tremble in the after wave. "You doing okay?"
"Yeah," you squeak out and Yoongi chuckles, getting up to sit back on his thighs. He watches you for a moment, watching the way your chest heaves with your every breath, your hair a tangled mess against his pillows. His eyes trail your form, down to the mess between your thighs that twitched at his attention.
"Sure? You good to go on?" He asks to be sure, squeezing your hip gently. You nod, reaching for him and he goes without complaint, caging you within his arms and kisses you slowly. His tongue tangles with yours, and he grinds his hips down against yours, seeking friction for his aching cock, dampening the front of his sweatpants.
"Fuck that feels so good." He groans, sucking bruises into the soft skin of your neck. He angles his hips so that the length of his cock rubs directly against your clit, shuddering, it feels so good and Yoongi can't stop. He slows down though, because he could feel his release racing down his spine. "Fuck, baby."
"Wanna..." You push at his shoulders, "Wanna suck your cock." Your hands are at the drawstrings of his sweatpants already, tugging, "Wanna taste you, too."
"Fuck, okay."
Yoongi gets off the bed to shuck off his sweats, cock springing free, red and pulsing, precum beading at the tip. He chuckles at your facial expression, eyes surprised even though your bottom lip is caught between your teeth. He notes the way your eyes follow the movement of his hand, he grips his cock and squeezes, thumb catching the translucent drop and dragging it down his shaft.
"You're big."
"Good for you, then?" He pumps his shaft slowly, whispering curses under his breath.
You roll your eyes, "It wouldn't have mattered if-"
"Shh." Yoongi shushes and crooks the fingers of his free hand at you, "Come here."
He leans down to grab a pillow behind you, pausing, "Where's comfortable for you?"
"Wherever you want me," you say sweetly, and it would've been cute with the way you smile, if it wasn't for the look in your eyes. For a moment Yoongi feels like he's in for way more than he bargained for, with you looking so pretty, alluring, like a succubus ready to siphon his soul. Such a far contrast from the you of earlier, fumbling with your words and flushing under his gaze.
"This isn't about me." Yoongi swallows, "Are you kneeling or do you wanna stay on the bed?"
"I'll stay here." You make yourself comfortable, propping up on your elbows, and Yoongi passes you the pillow to help you reach his hips in your position. You slide the pillow under your chest, already reaching for him before he steps closer and Yoongi sucks in a sharp breath when your smaller hand wraps around his cock.
You mirror his motions from before, pumping slowly and Yoongi's not sure if you're teasing him or not. Tongue snaking out to kitten lick at the head, you swirl it around before taking it into your mouth.
"Ah fuck." Yoongi throws his head back, a hand finding your hair as you take him slowly to the back of your throat. He feels your exhales against his tummy, just barely, his mind too muddled to focus on anything but the warmth of your throat and the wiggling of your tongue under his shaft. "You're doing so good, baby."
You hum a gurgle of a word Yoongi would probably never decipher, the vibrations around the head of his cock has him tugging lightly on your hair and pulling out and away from your mouth, breathing hard. He'd be damned if he comes so quickly, that shit will probably haunt him for the rest of his life.
There's a string of spit connecting your lips to his cock, and you smile like the minx you are, not letting him get far enough away before you're taking his cock into your mouth again, bobbing your head at a quick pace. Yoongi could cry, he's trying so hard, there's sweat dripping from his hair, you're pulling him closer, taking him deeper and his eyes roll back.
"Shit. Slow down." His words trail off in a moan, and he's unable to help the rolling of his hips, thrusting his cock into the warmth of your throat, gently, mindful of your breathing. You swallow and he swears, thighs tensing and he stops, pulling away again to release a stuttered exhale. Leaning down, he kisses you, licking into your mouth with haste, tasting himself on your tongue. "Wanna fuck you." He breathes against your lips, releasing your hair for you to scoot back up the bed.
He's quick to follow, slotting his hips between your thighs, stopping to map bruises against the skin of your chest. He laves his tongue over a nipple, fingers toying with the other, he takes the pebbled bud into his mouth just to hear you make a pretty sound.
"Yoongi." You whine his name, and Yoongi doesn't waste another second, hooking one of your knees over his elbow, other hand guiding his cock to your wet cunt. He stays there for a moment, tapping his cock against your clit just to watch you squirm. You raise your hips to meet his teasing thrusts and Yoongi chuckles, easing back to slowly drag his cock down your slit until it prods at your entrance.
He slowly presses into you, watching the way your pussy sucks him in, arousal coating his cock. "You're so fucking tight." Yoongi stills, gripping your hips, watching you through a lust filled haze. He thrusts shallowly into you until he bottoms out and stills, free hand squeezing your hip gently. He swipes his tongue over his thumb, pressing the digit against your clit to rub in slow circles, "Relax for me, baby."
When he feels your body relax around him, he moves, setting a slow pace to start, leaning down to slot his lips over yours, swallowing the sounds you made. You arms wrap around his neck, nails scraping red, angry lines at his shoulder blades. The pain only heightens the pleasure he feels, crossing his eyes and curling his toes.
"Fuck." Yoongi bites gently on your earlobe, "You're so good for me baby. So fucking good. Taking my cock so well."
He knows you're getting tired of his pace. You're lifting your hips to meet his thrust, moaning helplessly into his ears. "Want more, baby?" He leans back in time to catch your nod, kiss swollen bottom lip caught between your teeth. He grips your hips again, keeping you from moving, and slows down just to watch you squirm and beg for him.
"Ple-fuck. Jus-" your words cut off with a gasp, hands gripping Yoongi's wrists where he holds you. He sets a punishing pace, the sound of his thighs hitting your ass loud in the quiet of the room. "Oh F-fuck, Yoongi."
"This what you wanted, hmm?" He tilts his head at you, one eyebrow raised, sliding a hand up your sweat slicked skin to cup your jaw, you take his thumb into your mouth and Yoongi's cock pulses with the need for his release. He smirks, pressing his thumb down on your tongue, pace never faltering, his nerves are on the edge of frying, orgasm tingling at the end of his spine. Pulling his hand away from your mouth and presses his thumb against your clit, looking down at the way his ccok, covered in your arousal, disappears inside you.
Yoongi groans, the sound rumbling in his chest, feeling your pussy clenching around his cock, squeezing tight as your breath hitches. "Ah--fuck I'm gonna-"
"Yeah? Come for me, baby." As your body tenses and tremble, Yoongi chases his end, hips stuttering and he gasps, cock throbbing in time with his heartbeat as his release spills into you. "Oh fuck."
Head light and ears ringing, Yoongi kisses you, it's more tongue than anything else, but he doesn't care. He does his best to keep the full weight of him off you, peppering kisses along your jaw. He feels your every breath and his sweat cools on his skin, "You okay?"
There's sweat burning his eyes and he squints at you as you push his hair back and away from his face, you're smiling and giggling shyly. Like if he told you a joke and didn't just fuck you nine ways to hell. "I'm perfect."
He presses a kiss to your cheek, leaning back up again to carefully slip his softening cock out of your still pulsing walls. His release comes flowing out not two seconds after, he watches with his bottom lip between his teeth, cock giving an interested twitch.
Yoongi gets up before he starts something again, because he just might die trying to go through a second round so quickly. "Don't move, I'll be right back."
He looks around on the floor for where he left his sweatpants, he puts them on and shuffles quickly to the door. He only realises just how quiet it is now that it's quiet, he realises how loud the two of you were being.
He goes back to you with a warm, damp washrag, finding you close to falling asleep. He cleans you up anyway, mindful of your sensitivity.
When he's done he watches you for a moment, fingers finding yours first. Mindlessly he fiddles with them and reaches for his discarded shirt and passes it to you, releases your hand only for you to put it on. "We probably could've done this sooner." You say softly, smiling.
Yoongi tilts his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, "What? The sex or...?"
You lightly swat his arm, "You know what I mean."
"I do." Yoongi presses a kiss to your wrist, sighing when you gently lay that palm against his cheek. He believes that action speaks volumes and there's no need for words, but he realises that he hadn't said it back to you earlier. Though, he was very much distracted and his thoughts were absent. "I like you too...alot...just in case that wasn't clear."
He shifts on the bed to be closer to you and leans his head on your shoulder, "I'm sorry it took me so long. It takes me a while to come to terms with things. I overthink and make things harder for myself, I wasn't sure if this was the right way to go."
You hum softly, breath tickling his ears, "It's okay. I suck too. We could've avoided the run around if I'd just told you."
"Yeah, you're terrible. I had no idea what to do with your smoke signals." Yoongi raises his head, chuckling. Leaning over, he presses a kiss to your forehead and tilts your chin to kiss you softly. "Can I take you out? When we get back."
"Yeah, I'd like that."
Yoongi smiles, feeling like a kid and nudges you softly, "Go pee. I'll strip the sheets, go on."
He watches as you walk on wobbly legs till you reach the door and pause, turning your head to watch him with wide eyes, "you don't think they heard us, do you?"
"Nah, they're asleep."
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"Dude, whoever was watching their porn so loudly last night, fuck you. Honestly, the lack of respect in this household."
It's the first thing Jimin says when he comes downstairs the next morning, looking like he'd slept on the wrong side of the bed. Eyes swollen as he takes the coffee Seokjin offers and the sympathetic pat to his shoulder.
Yoongi ignores the conversation, even though you looked like you were about to combust next to him. Seokjin was giving him a look from his spot by the stove, looking ridiculous in the pink apron he favoured.
"Yeah the walls are so thin in here it's wild." Seokjin wiggles his eyebrows at Yoongi and you choose that moment to choke on your sip of orange juice.
Taehyung pauses, fork halfway to his mouth with a strip of bacon hanging for dear life at the end of it. He looks between the both of you for a quiet moment, strong brows furrowed until something lights in his eyes. "Oh my god."
Jimin, who's slumping in his seat, looking like he wanted nothing more than to crawl his way back upstairs perks up at Taehyung's words, "What?"
Yoongi stares silently at Taehyung, daring him to open his big mouth and say exactly what he definitely wants to say.
"Nothing. Nothing...." Taehyung waves his hand with the fork, sending the piece of bacon flying off it and into his glass of orange juice. Jimin watches on with disgust as Taehyung fishes the piece out of the cup and tosses it into his mouth.
"The bin is right there."
"Are you drinking the juice?"
Yoongi runs circles into the skin of your knee, as Taehyung and Jimin bicker.
"Oh, Joon. Come eat." Seokjin wanders over to the entrance and Yoongi just barely catches the sight of Namjoon passing by, saying that he was going for a walk first. Hoseok and Jungkook enter just then, finding their spots at the table as Seokjin sets plates for them.
"I'll be right back." Yoongi says softly, pressing a kiss to your temple, leaving Jimin sputtering into his coffee. He pushes his chair back and stands, catching the way Hoseok squints at you.
He points, not saying anything before he leans around Taehyung to smack at Jimin's arm, "I told you so! You owe me fifty."
"Bold of you to assume I came here with money."
"You guys made a bet?" You ask, incredulous.
"Yeah. It's either someone was watching porn, or someone was getting it. You and Yoongi are the only ones not sharing a room..."
Hoseok voice fades as Yoongi shuts the front door behind him. It's cold, mist and dew clinging to the world and Yoongi regrets leaving his sweater in his room. He rubs his hands over his arms, the long sleeves of his t shirt barely keeping him warm.
Namjoon's already walking, a good distance from the house near the lake's edge. Yoongi takes his time walking over, gravel crunching under his feet, he slots his hands into his pockets to keep them warm.
When he reaches Namjoon, the younger man is crouched down, cooing at something on the ground. There's a little crab scurrying around trying to get away from Namjoon's curious fingers.
"Just let the little guy be." Yoongi announces himself, "Thing's probably scared shitless."
"I just wanna pick him up, though," Namjoon continues to try, sighing when the little crab escapes into the lake. "Oh well.." He dusts his hands and stands up, finally looking over at Yoongi.
"Aren't you cold?" He asks, and remembering he's standing out in a tshirt and sweats, Yoongi shivers. Namjoon looks all cozy in his beige sweater and matching beanie.
"I wanted to run something by you." Yoongi says, looking out at the lake and the way the light of the morning sun glitters against the still waters. He shoves his cold hands into the pockets of his pants, rubbing his thumb over his curled fingers. He realised that this is going to be as hard as trying to talk to you, and Namjoon waits patiently, watching Yoongi with eyes that seemed to know too much.
"Uh.." Yoongi chances a look, glancing at Namjoon who's just as quiet as him, waiting. "Look man, Y/n and I had a talk last night."
"Right?" Namjoon gives him a look, a confused one, head tilting and all.
Yoongi takes a breath and decides to go headfirst, though he takes a step back from Namjoon to be sure. "I really like your sister and we talked about it and I just wanted you to know that."
The uncomfortable look that morphs Namjoon's features wasn't what Yoongi was expecting, especially since the look stays there for a while as Namjoon just stares at him. He raises a hand to scratch at his cheek, "Dude."
"What?"
"Are you saying that I owe Hoseok fifty dollars?"
"...Eh?" Yoongi's confused, and it feels as though he's spent this whole weekend running on pure confused energy. Namjoon shakes his head, laughing in a way that makes Yoongi take another step back.
"I know. You two are terrible at hiding shit." Namjoon points his thumb over his shoulder, back at the house where he glances. From where he stands, he could see Seokjin, Taehyung and Jimin peering out through the window. "I know my sister, and I know my best friend. You guys are adults, so, really, there's nothing I can do but watch it happen."
Namjoon shrugs, and Yoongi flushes, cheeks heating. "But when I met her...you...you gave me a look."
"I was trying to ask if you wanted water!"
"That was not a 'do you want water' look, Joon."
Namjoon reaches over and pats his shoulder softly, hand lingering, "You have my blessing, if that's what you came to ask for." He smiles, eyes disappearing, but Yoongi's relief is cut short when he tries to shift away, Namjoon's grip tightening. "Though, she's still my little sister. I know where you live."
Yoongi chuckles, a little scared.
"Good talk." Namjoon nods to himself, "I'm going inside. Get out of the cold!"
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Tagging: @madbutgloriouspond @blog-name-idk @taestefully-in-luv @btsstan12 @hamsterclaw @allhobbitstoisengard @dontstoptime @doneimnida @here2bbtstrash
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burntheedges · 10 days
Text
Maintenance Request Epilogue
Joel Miller x f!reader  18+ | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 986
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a/n: well, y'all. We made it. 😭 I hope you enjoy this peek into our favorite couple's lives. Thank you all so much for reading.
I have loved seeing all of your reactions and answering your asks about the fic this week (please keep sending more for the celebration if you'd like!). There will be more asks going up today and I'm linking them on the masterlist for the fic as I post them.
I'm getting emotional again. Thank you all. You're the best and I mean that so sincerely. 🧡 and thank you, as always, to @katareyoudrilling 🧡 I think we'll be back to visit these two (I've already got plans for something about Joel finding the poem from Ch 23 thanks to an ask from @toomanytookas) but this is it for the main story. (Also, today is my birthday, so thank you for celebrating with me.)
chapter tags/warnings: fluff, flirting, cuddling, pet names (darlin', honey, baby), allusions to smut
Epilogue
Saturday, May 10 Summer Break
It was a beautiful late spring day, with a light breeze rustling through Joel’s back garden. You stood on the back porch and turned your face to the sun, smiling at the view.
You were tired – you’d lifted so many boxes already that day, you couldn’t bring yourself to even consider opening any of them right now. As you tried and failed to will yourself to at least make a plan, you felt Joel step up behind you. He slid his arms around your waist and tucked his face into your neck.
“I like the way you look on this porch, darlin’. The way your stuff looks in the house. Our house.” He pressed a soft kiss to your neck. “Looks right.” 
You grinned and leaned into him. “Well, that’s good, considering it’s way too late to change your mind now. All my books are here.” He huffed a laugh into your neck. “Once we mix them in with yours there’s no turning back. Gave up my keys and everything.” He pressed his smile into your neck in response.
You’d agreed to move in after the semester ended. Tommy, Beth, and Maria had helped, though they’d just left a few minutes ago – Tommy and Maria to return the moving truck, and Beth to pick up dinner. Tess had threatened Joel that he better have a housewarming party for you or else since she couldn’t make it.
You’d just gotten tired of lugging boxes around and stepped outside to see what Sarah, Ellie and Riley were up to. A sudden shout from the far end of the backyard drew your attention and you lifted up on your toes to try to see over Joel’s many plants. 
He did the same, arms still wrapped around you, and asked, “any idea what those three hooligans are doing back there?”
You laughed. “Well, judging by the stuff they dragged back there with them, I have a pretty good idea.”
“Oh?” He nuzzled into your neck again, clearly not too concerned with their antics.
You nodded. “Mentos. And Diet Coke.” 
He laughed, loud this time. “You’re kidding. They just discovered that old trick?”
“Seems so.”
“Feels like a different student tries it every term, so I guess I’m not surprised.” He sighed. “At least if they do it back there we don’t really have to clean it up, much.”
You elbowed him a little. “My thoughts exactly.” You were both quiet for a moment and you felt Joel relax into position behind you, leaning against the wall of the house and drawing you backwards to lean on him. 
“You think Elllie’s got a plan for her room, yet?” He sounded concerned, but you knew it was because he was anxious to help her however he could. 
“Yeah, she wants to freehand it. Some kind of mural.”
“Sounds like it’ll probably be pretty impressive. We can get her some paints, maybe tomorrow.” 
You smiled at his offer. “Poor Tommy, kicked out of his room.” 
Joel laughed at your words, but you felt him shake his head. “He’s busy with Maria, he don’t mind. Got better things to worry about these days.” You hummed, agreeing. “You know, darlin’, we got about half an hour before any of them get back.” He punctuated his statement with a quick nip to your neck and a thrust of his hips. 
You snorted. “Joel Miller, are you propositioning me? In front of the kids?” You waved your arm towards the back of the yard.
He huffed a laugh into your neck. “They can’t hear us and I’ve been dying to get you alone all day. Honey, you live here now. You aren’t going to leave later because you’re already home. It’s driving me crazy just thinkin’ about it.” 
You let your head fall back on his shoulder and grinned. “Half an hour, huh? Not a lot of time.”
He started pressing soft kisses down the side of your neck and you squirmed against him. “Enough time to make you come on my mouth, baby.” 
You started to turn in his arms, already giving in, when there was a sudden, whooshing eruption and shrieks coming from the back of the yard. You laughed. “Sounds like they figured it out.”
“Hmm, let’s worry about that later.” He grinned at you as he started to walk backwards into the house, taking your hands in his to lead you. “We got things to do and the clock is ticking.”
Both of you started giggling as you dashed up the stairs. You almost fell into his (your) room and caught yourself on the dresser. He grinned at you as he closed the door before grabbing you by the waist to guide you onto the bed. “Pants off, darlin’. Let me show you how happy I am to have you home.”
Home. You smiled and did as he asked.
He was right, after all. You were home.
...Then love comes, like a sudden flight of birds from earth to heaven after rain. Your kiss, recalled, unstrings, like pearls, this chain of words. Huge skies connect us, joining here to there. Desire and passion on the thinking air. -- From “Rapture” by Carol Ann Duffy
It was like getting a love letter from a tree Eyes closed forever to find you— There is a life which if I could have it I would have chosen for myself from the beginning -- “The Poem” by Franz Wright
...
a/n: thank you all. 🧡
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Is there hope in us, still? (is there something worth believing in?)
let me wrap my teeth around the world - series masterlist here
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pairing: poly marauders x reader (gender neutral)
length: 1.4k
genre: fluff, kinda angsty
warnings: slytherin reader, the good good post summer break mental illness, everybody's having some issues here, there will be a pt.2 next week to give it a happy happy ending but this isn't so bad, it has a hopeful ending on its own
a/n: wowie another one lol hope y'all enjoy <3
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Sirius is hollow when he gets back from summer break - quiet and petulant in a way that doesn't suit him anymore, snapping at his peers and pulling away from people's touch. You can't blame him. Especially not when you're feeling the same. You're not quite as showy about it as he is, that constant, underlying desperation to keep it all hidden burning under your skin. Sirius's suffering is loud - loud enough that you always hope it will drown out yours. It never really does, as far as the other two are concerned. 
He shoves towards the door when class ends, likely stalking back to his dorm to hole up for the rest of the evening. James sighs, a hand on Remus' shoulder comfortingly as the boy stares at the doorway where Sirius just was, his brow furrowed in that worried way that he's mastered. 
"We're going to do some studying together in the common room later… see if maybe Pads feels like joining. You're always welcome to come along with us…?" James asks in that gentle way of his, patiently hopeful. You busy yourself with gathering up your books, knowing that if you look at him, you'll crumble. There is love in the way he looks at you, despite everything. You're sure that, if you take notice of it, it would be enough to condemn you these days.
"I'm going to do some work alone tonight," you say shortly, brushing past the two of them. Remus catches your arm as you try to leave, fingers wrapping around your wrist ever so gently. But when you pause, he lets go of you abruptly, like there's something wrong with his touch against yours. This is the beginning, you think. This is where I start to lose you. 
"If you change your mind…" he begins softly. You nod stiffly.
"I'll let you know." James and Remus watch as you leave swiftly, Remus rubbing the palm of his hand against his thigh, as if trying to take back the contact he'd already made with your wrist. This is where it starts, he thinks. This is where you begin to realize that I'm better when I'm left behind.
Remus has to stop himself from startling later that night when he's woken up by a cold hand shaking his shoulder. You hadn't come to study with them that evening, which wasn't surprising, but it hurt something in Remus. James, especially, had deflated, his eyes dull and his hands fidgety while he tried desperately to finish his essay, his thoughts wandering to Sirius and the dark circles under his eyes, the paleness of his skin - and then to you, to the stubborn set of your jaw and the hard look in your eyes. Looking down at his own hands, he wonders what worth they have if he can't even save the people he loves.
Needless to say, the last thing Remus was expecting was to have you in his dorm in the middle of the night, one of Sirius's sweaters shoved hastily over your pajamas as you shook him awake. You place a finger over his lips when he wakes abruptly, climbing up next to him without so much as a word as he fumbles to find his wand on his nightstand, casting a silencing spell over the four-poster bed.
"What's going on, dove?" he asks, his hands itching to hold your face, to smooth his thumbs over the skin of your cheeks and soothe you in some way. But he resists - you're here, in his bed, looking at him like you need him, and the last thing he wants is to overwhelm you and have you scared away. The last thing he can bear to do is put his hands on you, his scars glinting against unblemished skin -  something ruined touching something holy.
"I just… couldn't sleep. I'm not - I haven't been sleeping well these days," you respond, and Remus is sure that if he could see you clearly, if he weren't squinting at you through the dark, you'd be shying away, face tilted away from his eyes, away from any kind of vulnerability.
"Well," he says carefully, reaching out to put a hand on your knee. You don't pull away, to his relief. In fact, you relax a bit into it, letting your posture slouch. "Stay here then, yea?" Much to Remus's delight, that's all it really takes for you to move forward, pulling the blankets back to settle underneath them. He joins you, of course, settling in next to you and letting you decide how much - or how little space to leave between your bodies.
When you reach your hand over, cupping his cheek in your palm and smoothing your thumb over the skin there, he feels a part of him melt in the relief of it, a part of him that didn't realize quite how much he'd missed your touch - your love. He cups his hand over yours, tilting his head to press a series of kisses across your palm. When you continue to let him, sagging further into the pillows, he keeps going, trailing kisses up and down each finger and finishing with your thumb. 
It's then that you pull him closer, tilting your own face up to place your own gentle kiss to his lips before thumping your head against his chest. He lets you, of course, keeping his hand tangled up with yours while the other wraps around you. Before you can sleep, though, he leans close to whisper near your ear.
"James has been wondering where the invisibility cloak disappeared to. I'm sure he'll be pleased to know you're the one who ran off with it." You can't help but smile at his words, your face still pressed against his chest.
"You have so little faith in me, Rem. Not everyone needs the cloak to sneak around in this castle."
"But you did steal it, didn't you?'
"…I'll give it back to him later." Remus huffs out a quiet laugh at your confession, pulling you closer and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.
"You know he doesn't mind," he soothes. You squeeze his hand in thanks where your fingers are still interlocked.
"Goodnight, Rem… and thank you for this."
"No need to thank me, love. I don't mind at all."
Something clatters to the floor on the other side of the locked bathroom floor and Remus frowns, staring at it like he can burn a hole big enough to see Sirius on the other side - to make sure he's ok. James drapes himself over Remus's back where they're sitting on James's bed together, his arms wrapping tightly around his waist. Remus lets him, leaning back against him and feeling James sigh at the weight of it, a bit of tension draining from him.
"Were they really here last night? They really came and spoke with you?" James says, his face buried in Remus's neck, a desperate sort of lilt to his voice. Tell me there is hope, he thinks. Tell me I can fix this, still.
"You saw the note they left, love," Remus lets his eyes settle on his nightstand where you'd left the invisibility cloak, a note folded on top with a simple thank you written in it, a heart scrawled next to it that he recognized as yours. The whole thing almost made up for the fact that, by the time Remus had woken up, you'd already been gone.
"Do you think… things will be better now? At least a bit? Were things better last night?" James asks, his arms tightening around Remus's waist. Remus, in an act of reassurance, wraps his fingers around one of James's hands and squeezes gently as Sirius stalks out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him and stomping away.
"I do think things are getting better. It's… slower than you and I would like, I know. But all we can is love them - and that, my dear Prongs, I know you can do." James grumbles something unintelligible at the compliment, his face still hidden from view. Remus is sure that, if he could see it, he'd be greeted by the flushed red of James's cheeks. He settles for bringing one of his hands up to press kisses across it, instead, content to bring a bit of hope back to the person he loves - to do something good with this body of his. 
There is hope, he thinks, in this love they all share. There is something here to fight for, still.
320 notes · View notes
wave2tyun · 3 months
Text
cool hot sweet love | ☆
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pairing: barista!beomgyu x fem!reader, surfer!yeonjun x fem!reader
genre: summer!au, lovetriangle!au, fluff, romance, a tiny bit of angst?
summary: embarking on a journey towards self-discovery, you didn’t expect to also have your heart tangled in an alluring summer romance. but, who’s gonna be the first to win your heart? the sweet barista, beomgyu, or the charming surfer boy, yeonjun? let the love games begin!
warnings : alcohol consumption, a few swear words, minor injury, (almost) drowning
word count: almost 10k + the endings are like 1k each
a/n: i've been feeling super nostalgic about this fic recently (it's one of the very first i've written!! :0), so here it is back again in all it's glory!!!! this is too long for me to search through for any mistakes i'm sorry asbjdha for all my summer enthusiasts, let's hang in there just a little bit more, this one goes out to y'all!!!!😼😼💞
☆ = repost from my old blog!!
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at the end of your final year of high school, you found yourself chasing a dream, a dream that was never truly yours to begin with. competitions and grades never seemed to bring you any satisfaction anymore. your parents’ praises didn’t seem enthusiastic either, but rather an automatic response. you felt completely lost. the one thing that seemed to give you the drive to keep on going, suddenly lost its spark. you were living in a greyed out world, having the same exhausting routine over and over again. you wanted a break from it all. for once, you didn’t long for the pressure or the big goals, but simply for living life just as it was. you wanted an escape from the clutches of mundane life, which is why you chose to swallow your pride and opt for a gap year after graduation. you knew your parents well, and you weren’t expecting them to be happy about your decision. they didn’t want to let their “dream daughter” fall down from the top and watch as everybody else around her were working on their way to success. but what they failed to consider was that success is in no way linear, and that your break was in the end substantial for your wellness. you were very lucky to have a friend like yeji in your life though. she did have her own struggles with academic validation as well, yet she never had any pressure coming from her parents. she wanted to be there for you, and made her parents persuade yours about letting you have a gap year with her. to raise the ball even higher, her parents added one condition: should you have a gap year, you weren’t allowed to remain in the city. instead, you were going to stay at their vacation home, at least for the summer, to let you experience the thrill of the unknown, as well as to help you get a breath of fresh air.
you didn’t know what kind of black magic yeji’s family used, but whatever they did, somehow managed to convince your parents to agree to your proposal. finally, you felt like you had found some motivation to keep on pushing through, making your heart fill up with excitement.
as the number of days leading up to your departure shortened, you were meeting up more and more with yeji for your final preparations. your sleepovers consisted of the two of you giggling while packing and making lists, as well as making up scenarios deep into the night about things that could finally “bring some spice” into your lives. even though it was her own family’s house, yeji hasn’t been there in years. she was living under the impression that a holiday there would just be “a distraction from her studies” or “a waste of time”. however, now that you were both free from that brainwashing hell called school, you realised how much you’ve actually been missing out on.
“do you really think that this “project” will finally bring that change we want in our lives?” you asked yeji, breaking the silence after some long moments of tossing and turning in your bed. you found it almost impossible to fall asleep. it was the last night before you were going to leave behind everything in your life so far. the excitement was still there, but you couldn’t deny the fact that there were all sorts of worries and doubts clouding your mind, and you found yourself wondering more and more often whether you were truly making a good decision.
“y/n, are you letting your worries take over your mind again?” she let out a soft laugh, then turned around to face you “i understand though, i’ve been getting that too. but- are those thoughts really worth it? i mean- we’ll never know unless we try, so i think it’s definitely worth a shot.”
you sighed “still- i don’t think i’d be able to face my parents again if i fail this.”
“y/n...this is not a test. there’s nothing to fail here. personally, i would rather try and regret than live my whole life wondering “what if”.”
you hummed. yeji was right. you hugged her tightly, trying to show her how much you appreciated her comforting words. and just like this, you were finally able to let your body drift off into a deep slumber. it was now or never, and you weren’t just gonna sit there and wait forever.
───⋆☆─────────────
the ride to the vacation house turned out to be a challenge in itself. yeji was the only one with a driver’s license, so you had no choice but to stay in the passenger’s seat with both a gps and a map in hand. unfortunately for yeji, you had one flaw: you were absolutely terrible with directions, meaning that the trip that was supposed to be 6 hours long, ended up taking you 9 hours instead. you got lost in some strange forests twice; yeji pulled over the side of the road multiple times, trying to make sense of the directions you were telling her, occasionally getting out to buy a piece of fresh fruit whenever she spotted a merchant. she said that it was helping her brain think, and that she was also helping to keep a business going. you didn’t need any excuses for fresh fruit though. fresh fruit is good food after all.
when you somehow made it to the house, you felt your body refilling with energy, despite having that whole trip take 10 years off your lifespan. sitting right in front of you was a 2-story house with pale blue walls and a white wooden porch.
“i can’t believe we made it out alive” you said after getting out of the car. you weren’t sure how much more you could endure the constant buzzing of the air conditioner, and yeji’s one and only cd playing on replay.
“you can’t believe we made it? what about me, i was the one having to endure all those truck drivers swearing at me for taking wrong turns, because someone, not telling who, is incapable of using any kind of maps”
“whew- i wonder who that is.” you gasped dramatically “must be tough dealing with them. bet they are a lovely person though”
“they sure are” she giggled “now come on, let’s get our luggage out of the trunk before the heat melts everything away.”
“need a hand with that?” you heard an unfamiliar voice shouting from the distance. you turned around and saw a group of 3 young men coming your way. you and yeji looked at each other dumbfounded, unsure what to answer. you nudged her with your elbow.
“do you know them?”
“no idea who they are...” she whispered back.
“you must be yeji and y/n- right? i’m hueningkai, yeji’s parents let us know that you were coming today, so we stopped by to see if you needed any help” the boy with a brown mullet said. “that’s soobin and this is taehyun” he pointed at the other two, both of them giving you a warm smile and a small wave in return. you were almost too stunned to speak. luckily for you, yeji replied while you were busy staring at them with big eyes.
“i think i recall them mentioning you briefly before leaving. actually, weren’t there supposed to be two more people or am i not remembering well?”
“you must be talking about beomgyu and yeonjun.” soobin answered “their shifts haven’t ended yet so they’re still busy at the beach. we can go over there if you want to after you settle in.”
“sounds great.” you said picking up the first luggage.
“that looks heavy- let me handle that” taehyun replaced the luggage in your hand with a bag. “t-thanks.” you were taken aback by their kindness. boys at your school never even spare a glance in your direction, let alone help you carry something. if it weren’t for the boys, you and yeji would have probably passed out on the floor after moving everything inside.
───⋆☆─────────────
the house was only a 5-minute walk away from the beach, during which you got to learn a tiny bit more about each other. hueningkai told you that he’s the one in charge for making playlists and playing music; soobin worked along with beomgyu at the bar, meanwhile taehyun got a small job as a kitchen assistant because of his newly-found passion for cooking. they were all around your age and yet they seemed to have already found their passions, living life without much worry in mind. you wished you could live like that too, and maybe, just maybe, this was your chance to find that out.
“welcome-“ “-to paradise!” soobin exclaimed spreading his arms in the air.
“woah-” both you and yeji said in unison, making everybody else laugh.
“welcome to paradise indeed” you said, placing your feet on the warm golden sand. there was music playing around you, not too loud so that you could still hear the sound of the waves softly crashing against the shore. it was breath-taking.
“and you haven’t seen everything yet” taehyun chuckled, leading you towards the beach bar. “beomgyu- we’re here!” he shouted.
you squinted your eyes trying to see who this “beomgyu” was from afar, but your vision simply failed you. and when you got closer, you were simply not mentally prepared to face the person in front of you.
“guys i told you not to-“ he started off, seemingly irritated “oh- hi.” he scratched his neck, giving you a shy smile. at that very moment, you swore you felt your heart skip a beat.
“y/n, yeji- this is beomgyu. our one and only barista.”
“the best one in town!” beomgyu added cheerfully.
“ah- so humble too.” taehyun teased him, sighing dramatically.
“hey- what are you implying?” beomgyu sulked, but you couldn’t even pay attention to their bickering. your eyes were way too busy going over beomgyu’s features. ripe, cherry red locks of hair framed his eyes, those eyes that resembled two pearls of boba from a brown sugar milk tea, with long, beautiful eyelashes adoring them. you thought he looked just like a honey bear.
“i’m yeji- it’s nice to meet you” she shook his hand “this is y/n.”
beomgyu smiled and you reached your hand out for him to shake it. his soft hands enveloped yours, and you couldn’t help but notice how bigger they were than yours. you felt his hand lingering for just a few seconds more, and you were already missing his warm touch once he let go.
“so- want to have a look over our menu? it’s on the house” beomgyu offered.
“oh cool i’ll have the-“ soobin started talking, instantly getting cut off by beomgyu “not you- the girls!” he jokingly gave him a death stare “you’ve all been profiting too much off my generosity lately, you don’t deserve any free drinks today.”
you and yeji snickered, they all looked really close to each other, like brothers. it was like you were witnessing a petty fight between siblings.
“one strawberry lemonade for me please!” yeji said.
your eyes were still scanning the menu, hands continuously flipping the pages back and forth as you chewed on your bottom lip. beomgyu leaned over to you, the sweet scent of his citrus perfume invading your senses.
“want me to recommend anything?”
“ah- yes please. there are too many drinks here that sound good.” you replied “nothing with alcohol though, the trip here already gave me a headache.” you glared at yeji, who lifted one eyebrow at you.
he chuckled “people usually enjoy the peach smoothie, myself included. does that sound good?” his deep brown eyes peered into yours, never breaking eye contact- not even for one second. “sounds perfect.” you replied, almost completely absorbed by his gaze.
“until that’s done-” hueningkai chimed in “we should go ahead and meet up with yeonjun too.”
“don’t take too long though” beomgyu said “my shift is ending soon.”
“we’ll be fast- have you seen him around by chance?”
“last time i talked to him he was at the surfing board shop. maybe check that out first?” beomgyu replied, before going to the drinks station to get started on your orders.
“oh- i haven’t seen you around here before?”
you almost jumped out of your seat, startled by the new voice that interrupted your conversation.
“yeonjun! perfect timing.” hueningkai said “we were planning to go looking for you.”
“is that so?” he playfully asked, plopping down on the seat between you and yeji. his voice turned out to be much more attractive than you had anticipated, it was smooth, yet slightly husky and deep. you turned your head to look at him for the first time.
“i’m yeji- and this is...” her voice trailed down, expecting you to answer again. you were frozen, being too immersed to take in yeonjun’s appearance. you could notice his muscular form, not hidden away from the tight-fitted swimming shirt he was wearing. his sharp eyes game him a fox-like charm, making you feel inexplicably drawn to him. in contrast, his plump lips make him look adorable, like a sulky duck. what was a man like him even doing on a secluded beach-? yeji coughed, giving you a small nudge.
“y/n.” you managed to blurt out, a stupid smile plastered on your face.
“ah- huening, why didn’t you mention that such pretty girls were coming here today?” you almost dropped the drink’s coaster you had in your hand as he said that.
“it hasn’t even been 5 minutes and he’s already flirting” taehyun groaned, covering his face with his hands.
beomgyu rolled his eyes at his friend’s antics, setting down the drinks for you and yeji on the counter before finding a seat on the bar stools to join you.
“like i’ve said-“ hueningkai intervened “we were about to look for you. are you done with lessons for today?”
“yup. some kid had a sunstroke so i got off work early”
“what kind of lessons do you teach?” you asked curiosity taking over.
“i’m a surfing teacher for kids.” he answered “it’s a small job to make some money. for you, however- i could do it for free, since you’re cute” he winked at you, making your cheeks flush instantly.
“i’m sure y/n would love to try something new” yeji butted in, answering before you could open your mouth to speak. “that’s what we’re here for, after all. right?”
“right...” you squinted your eyes at her, giving her a light kick with your foot.
“it’s decided then.” he chuckled “i’ll be waiting.”
this is how all the conversations during the first day went like; your mind going blank, with yeji either saving you from embarrassment or only digging your hole deeper. still, you enjoyed it, you ended up staying at the beach long after the sun started to set. the chilly breeze coming from around the sea was made you get up from your seats, at long last.
───⋆☆─────────────
the next day, you found yourself back at the beach sometime in the afternoon. you did everything you could to wake up yeji, but to no avail. the drive here must have completely tired her out, as she was sleeping soundly as a rock. in the end, you let her continue to rest, choosing to go out by yourself.
“so, what’s it gonna be for today?” beomgyu asked, leaning his head on the palm of his head. “may i interest you in one of my signature cocktails, perhaps?”
“i’d love that” you smiled.
this time, you watched as beomgyu prepared your drink. he lifted the sleeves of his dress shirt up, revealing the way his forearm muscles tensed up as he picked up the glass bottles full of alcohol. his precise movements could tell you that he must have had plenty of experience as a barista. your eyes wandered off further, focusing on the way his long slender fingers, still slightly dripping with water from having washed fruits earlier, handled the knife with such skill and care. you remembered the moment you held his hands yesterday, how soft his skin was to your touch- you shook your head, trying to get that thought away.
“all done” beomgyu brought you a tall glass, ripe cherry sitting proudly on top, floating on the ice. “it’s a cherry daiquiri.”
you pushed the straw past your lips, a sweet yet tangy taste filling up your mouth. beomgyu looked at you, eyes gleaming with curiosity and anticipation. feeling a bit mischievous, you put on a serious expression.
“well uh-“ you paused, pursing your lips “this was quite-“
 beomgyu gulped, the content look on his face fading away.
“-quite possibly the best cocktail i’ve ever had” you couldn’t help but burst into laughter upon seeing the cute expression he had on his face. he closed his eyes, tilting his head back and breaking into a smile.
“you had me seriously questioning my bartender skills for a moment there”
“sorry- i had to” you giggled “i really mean it though, i’ve never had something that tasted this good before” beomgyu’s dimple appeared as he tried to conceal the big smile taking over his face.
“y/n!” yeji shouted, jogging to reach the bar.
“look who’s finally up”
“i slept through my alarm- sorry” she sighed, sitting down beside you.
‘not just through your alarm’
you hummed as you continued to sip on your drink, admiring the scenery in front of you. it was a peaceful atmosphere, the catchy beats of the music being sometimes interrupted by the squawking of the seagulls in the distance. right at the shore was a small group of kids, with yeonjun in the middle of them, standing on a surfing board. they all seemed to be bursting with energy, like bottles of soda that were about to explode. yeonjun knew how to match their energy well, while still keeping everything under control.
“instead of staring at him so intensely, why don’t you go and take up his offer?”
you snorted, crinkling your nose “me? surfing? no thanks- i’m saving myself from that embarrassment”
“and? if you only worry about embarrassing yourself then you won’t ever end up making a change with your life” yeji wrapped her arms around her body “-and this exactly what we’re here for, something new. don’t just let this opportunity go to waste.”
you frowned, chewing on your straw. even though your brain didn’t like to admit it, she was right. you were so caught up in your own comfort bubble, that it was holding you back.
“looks like he’s getting a break now” yeji muttered “come on- this is your chance!”
“alright- i’m going” you agreed at last, gulping down the rest of the drink before heading towards yeonjun’s spot. you walked with a determined look on your face- and shaky hands.
you tapped yeonjun on the shoulder, breath hitching in your throat. yeji watched your interaction from her seat, wishing she could be closer to hear it.
“who-” he turned around “y/n- everything good?”
“yeah.” you answered shortly, playing with your earrings. you weren’t particularly bad at small talk, but this time your mind went blank the moment he started facing you. you couldn’t even meet his eyes, which were staring back directly at you.
“actually- i’ve been thinking about it and, you know those surfing lessons you talked about? i kinda want to give that a shot” you trailed down, your voice becoming higher in pitch towards the end of your sentence.
yeonjun’s face instantly lit up, his smile reaching his eyes “really? when do you want to start then?”
“well, when is your schedule free?” you scratched your neck “i’ve heard you’re pretty busy, i wouldn’t want to be a burden.”
“don’t worry about it, i was the one who asked after all.” he chuckled “i can give you a text later on after checking.” you tilted your head in confusion
“but you don’t have my phone nu-“
oh. he was smooth.
“you got me.” he said sheepishly “i was hoping to get your phone number” there was a sharp constrast to the way he was behaving before. the cool and flirty persona he had been putting on was starting to crumble “if that’s okay with you as well i mean-“
“yeah i’m okay with that” you reassured him “maybe i wanted yours too” you mumbled, heart almost giving out after getting those words out. he laughed again, handing you his phone. you quickly typed your phone number in, saving the contact as “y/n :)”, then you handed him yours.
“i’ll make sure to let you know by tonight”
“great, i’ll be waiting then” you replied playfully, making your way back to the bar.
yeji kept on pressuring you to spill all the details, but you brushed her off, wanting to save the conversation in private. you didn’t even get a chance to breathe properly once you returned home. after locking the door, yeji dragged you by the arm and sat you down on the couch along with her, forcing you to let it all out.
“see? that wasn’t so bad, was it? i’m sure you’re gonna thank me later-“ yeji’s voice was interrupted by a notification coming from your phone. you sat there, frozen, a million thoughts rushing through your mind.
“are you gonna answer that?”
“i- i guess i should” you took your phone, a river bubbling through your veins and flushing your face at the sight of the new message:
(yeonjun<3)
[10:30 pm]: hi cutie ;) are you free tomorrow at 11 am for our first surfing lesson?
“what are you smiling at?”
“nothing” you giggled, hiding the screen of your phone with your hands.
“you’re definitely not giggling because of nothing- let me see.” yeji got on top of you, trying to pry the phone away from your hands. however, her attempt was unsuccessful, as your grip was way too strong.
“you’re leaving me with no choice” she whispered mischievously. you felt your whole life flash before your eyes. you had one great weakness- and yeji knew that. you couldn’t even stand 3 seconds of tickling, so she was going to use it against you. her fingers inched closer to your stomach and attacked you quickly.
“YEJI- stop please-“ you tried to shout between giggles “i surrender- i promise.” she stopped for a brief moment “you promise?” “yeah- now get off me and i’ll give you my phone.” she squinted her eyes, going back to her place on the couch reluctantly. her eyes widened in disbelief when you revealed the new message.
“no fucking way- after two days?? y/n. this guy’s definitely into you”
“i don’t want to jump to conclusions- what if that’s his way of being friendly?” you argued back, realising how foolish your reason sounded only after you finished your sentence.
“y/n- darling, there’s no way a guy who just wants to become friends would save his name with a heart symbol.” she shook you by the shoulders “he. is. into. you.”
“what if-“ you were about to argue again, but the sound of another notification made you stop midway through your sentence. you unlocked your phone, completely unprepared. you and yeji glanced at the screen, then looked back at each other in disbelief, struggling to contain the urge to scream your lungs out.
(unknown number)
[10:50 pm]: hi, y/n! this is beomgyu :)
[10:51 pm]: i got your phone number from yeonjun, hope you don’t mind ;)
───⋆☆─────────────
from the moment you woke up you could feel your heart hammering in your chest. it was hard to tell whether it was from excitement or anxiety. maybe it was a mix of both. still, you were proud of yourself for choosing to do something out of your comfort zone for once. yeji was probably even more excited than you were. she wasn’t a morning person, but she insisted on coming along to watch your lesson and to ‘check your chemistry’.
“which swimsuit should i take? i packed two with me.” you held up a black one-piece swimsuit and a pale blue two-piece one for yeji to see.
“get the two-piece. you look hotter in it.” she playfully winked at you. you reluctantly looked at the swimsuit she chose, cursing yourself in your head for asking. you opened your mouth to voice out your worries, but yeji got up from the bed and put a finger over your mouth “shush, i don’t want to hear any complaints. just trust me on this one- okay?” you silently put the black one back in the drawer and went to the bathroom to get changed, deciding to go with yeji’s pick. “yeonjun’s heart is gonna melt once he sees you.”
you tried to ignore her “let’s go, i don’t want to be late.”
“can’t leave yeonjun hanging?” yeji joked, faking a pout. you lightly slap her arm. “i’m gonna leave without you if you’re not ready.”
“you wouldn’t do that to me- you love me.”
“i sure do...” you tilted your head back, a laugh escaping your lips.
yeonjun was waiting for you at the exact same spot you watched him teach yesterday, nobody else around him this time. for some reason, the thought of being completely alone with him didn’t cross your mind. you could feel a rush of adrenaline flowing through your body, but it was way too late to back down now.
“ready for-“ yeonjun’s words stopped abruptly as soon as he looked at you. he seemed distressed, eyes rapidly going over between you and the warm sand beneath his feet, the tips of his ears flaming red. was this what yeji meant by his heart melting? he cleared his throat before speaking again “ready for our first lesson?”
“i’m a bit nervous” you admitted “but overall excited i think” you didn’t sound very sure of yourself.
“you’ll be fine with me” he flashed you a gentle smile.
yeonjun clasped his hands together “we’ll go over the basics first”
“you need to catch waves in order to start surfing, and how do you do that? you paddle.” yeonjun put down a surfing board onto the sand. “to paddle, you need to lie and balance on your surfboard. let me demonstrate it for you” yeonjun laid his body on the board, his back now facing you.
“when you do this, make sure that the angle of the board’s nose doesn’t change. it should remain the same as when you weren’t on top of the board, not higher, not lower.”
“got it.”
“you shouldn’t paddle with both arms simultaneously, as this won’t help you maintain a constant speed. alternate between both arms at a steady pace”
you were in awe at yeonjun’s professional aura, he explained things calmy, while still maintaining a firm voice.
“let’s get this board into the water so you can give that a try.”
you looked at yeonjun with wide eyes, your nerves had just started to settle down a bit and now they were going off like fireworks again.
he laughed lightly “no need to worry, i’ll be right beside you.” yeonjun pushed the board into the sea, not too far away from the shore so that the water level wouldn’t be too high. he held on to it so that you could get lie down with ease. “when paddling keep your chin up so that you can look around.”
you tried to do just as he said, mimicking his movements from earlier. you didn’t want to know how goofy you looked from another person’s point of view.
“just like that” yeonjun whispered “see? you’re a natural! i think we can move on to the next step- getting up. we won’t be riding any waves today, we need to make sure you get this technique right”
you turned your head towards his direction, a petrified look on your face.
“come on, i’ll help you” yeonjun held out his hand for you to take, moving the other on your waist to help you maintain your balance as you moved up with shaky feet. his touch made you feel flustered and you lost your focus, accidentally slipping on the board. luckily, yeonjun was there to catch you before you could face-plant into the water.
“easy does it. don’t worry, it’s tricky to get it right on the first try” he held you again, his grip on your hand tighter than the first time. you held your breath as you made your second attempt, this time ending successful.
“no way- i did it” you exclaimed.
yeji’s and beomgyu’s cheers could be heard all the way from the bar, making you burst into laughter. your cheeks turned rosy as you noticed your hand still holding yeonjun’s.
“you’re doing amazing, cutie” your face felt even hotter at the sound of the nickname.
“let’s try that a few more times”
and so you did. again, and again, and again. yeonjun didn’t let you go until you had at least 3 successful attempts in a row. the both of you settled down on a sunbed, munching on some ice cream as a reward for your success.
“do you like it here so far?” yeonjun asked.
“we haven’t had the chance to do much yet but- i think i do. the beach alone is enough for me to enjoy my time here.” you took a bite of the ice cream cone “by the way- i was wondering, how come you started surfing?”
“i fell in love with the beach after my uncle taught me how to surf.” you looked up to meet his eyes. you could see the way they lit up as he explained everything further. “the gentle breeze, the adrenaline, the warm sun touching my skin- i felt like i couldn’t get enough of it.” he tilted his head back and stretched out his arms “i tried to go back to the city, but i couldn’t resist being away from all of this, so now- i get to do exactly what i love.” he smiled.
you stared at the ice cream in your hand, watching it melt from the heat. his words tugged at your heart; in a way, you were feeling jealous of how content he seemed to be with his life.
“sounds really nice” you smiled back, biting your lips. you could almost feel your stomach turning, your previous worries were coming on at lightning speed. the sound of yeonjun’s voice out of it.
“i’m glad you took up on my offer, it’s nice to share something i enjoy with a lovely person like you.” your worries dissipated, being replaced by butterflies in your stomach instead.
───⋆☆─────────────
you continued your lessons with yeonjun up until the middle of the summer. it was clear by now that you were definitely not a surfing prodigy, but you didn’t want to stop. you didn’t know when it would be the next time you got to do something like this. besides, having yeonjun’s attention all on you was nice. or at least, until little kids started stealing him away from you.
“teacher yeonjun- can you help me find my rubber duck? i lost it in the water.” the kid sobbed, tugging on yeonjun’s swimming shorts. yeonjun looked at the kid then at you, conflicted.
“go on-“ you reassured him with a smile “i got it.”
“i’ll be quick.” yeonjun grabbed the kids hand, sprinting towards the area of the “lost duck”.
you lifted your body on the surfing board, closing your eyes for a brief moment and taking a deep breath of the cool beach air. you were all alone now. this was your chance to get away from your thoughts, your worries; to simply shift your focus on all your other senses. somehow, you were feeling nostalgic- nostalgic for a moment that hasn’t even fully passed yet. if only it was possible to keep those feelings locked away, so you could revisit them whenever you wanted to.
yet, your happiness was cut short. you let your guard down too much, and were completely unaware of the danger right in front of you. beomgyu’s shout snapped you out of it. you opened your eyes, only to see an enormous wave centimeters away from you. you froze, not knowing what to do. a million thoughts ran through your mind; before you could even make a decision, the wave crashed into you, sending your body flying down into the water, your head hitting the surfing board in the process. the glass that beomgyu was holding slipped from his hand, shattering to the ground. he swiftly jumped over the counter, then took his shirt off, his eyes frantically searching around the water for you. instead, he saw yeonjun diving in the water, already 2 steps ahead from him. it was childish to race with yeonjun to save you. beomgyu ran back to the bar, hands shaking as he searched for a first med kit and a towel.
you couldn’t keep your eyes open as the salty water gave you a burning sensation almost instantly. you flailed your arms around, in an attempt to save yourself, but the more you moved, the more it felt like you were sinking down. you were almost ready to stop when you felt a pair of arms wrapping around your waist, bringing you back up towards the surface.
“i got you, don’t worry” yeonjun breathed out, hooking one of his arms under your legs and holding your shoulders with the other. your hands hanged loosely around his neck, desperately coughing up the water that entered your system.
“try to stand on your side if you can”
yeonjun laid you down on the nearest sunbed, and you did just as he said, bringing your knees to your chest as your coughing fit continued. “don’t panic, just let it all out” he said softly as he rubbed his hands down your back to soothe you.
yeonjun called out yeji’s name, gesturing for the others to remain in their place for now, as a group of people surrounding you could have been overwhelming. still, beomgyu chose to trail down behind yeji as she walked towards you. he covered you with the towel he found and left a cold bottle of water on the ground next to you before going up to yeonjun.
“can we talk for a sec?” he said, grabbing yeonjun’s arm to bring him further down the beach, without waiting for an answer from him.
“hey- how are you feeling now?” yeji crouched down, holding your hand and gently rubbing her thumb against it.
“better, i think” you answered, trying to put on a smile for her, even though you were still shaken up from what happened earlier.
“where did the others go? i didn’t even get to thank yeonjun-” you raised your body a little bit, looking around the beach.
“don’t even worry about that right now.” yeji was quick to push your shoulders back down. yeji knew why beomgyu was so quick to take yeonjun away. she knew how angry he was with him for leaving you alone so carelessly, and she knew how he was also angry with himself for not acting faster earlier. witnessing them arguing wouldn’t have done you any good. “just rest a little bit more so we can go back home. i’m sure you’ll have another opportunity to thank him soon.”
you looked down. you felt guilty for what happened, even though what happened was outside of your control. you let out a groan and brought a hand to your head, a pounding ache taking over.
“does it hurt?“ yeji asked. you removed your head from its place, only to see a small trail of blood dripping down your fingers.
“everything okay?” you heard yeonjun shout, jogging towards you. he was out of breath, bringing his hands to rest on his knees, cheeks flushed a deep shade of red; it seemed like he ran all the way back. beomgyu, however, was nowhere in sight. “let me see” his eyebrows furrowed as he came closer. he moved your hair behind your ear to inspect your injury. “it’s nothing serious. it’s just a surface level wound, but we need to clean it up.”
“here, beomgyu gave this to me earlier” yeonjun took the med kit from yeji and placed it beside you on the sunbed.
“please tell me if it hurts”
you nodded and he grabbed your chin, then started to gently dab your head with a wet cloth. your eyes shily glanced over at his face. you didn’t realise until then just how close he was sitting next to you. his eyes were only focused on your wound and he was biting his lips in concentration. his hands were shaking a little bit, too afraid to cause you any type of pain. unknowingly, you were holding your breath, heart beating out of control. you couldn’t understand why it was that your body was reacting this way, even in a situation like this, how he still had you wrapped around his finger, melting under his feathery touches.
“this should make it heal faster” yeonjun said, putting some ointment on the wound before covering it with a bandaid. “-and this too” he whispered, leaving a small kiss on that same spot. “i’m so sorry y/n. you are still a beginner and i shouldn’t have left you all alone like that, it was stupid-“ you stopped his rambling by pulling him in for a hug. “hey- don’t blame yourself so harshly. what happened was outside of your control. if you were there maybe you would have gotten injured too.” you hugged him tighter “i wouldn’t have wanted to see you hurt either.”
“you’re right...” yeonjun sighed, combing his fingers through your hair “still- i’ll find a way to make it up to you, i promise.”
“hey- i know you’re having a sweet moment and all, but it’s getting late and we should really get going” yeji interrupted. you slowly moved away from yeonjun, whispering a ‘thank you’ against his ear before finally letting go and getting up.
once at home, you hopped into the shower to wash off the salt off your body. you changed into more comfortable clothes, slumping into your bed, your body melting into the mattress. you were mindlessly scrolling through social media, your eyes feeling heavier with each minute that passed. you were on the point of dozing off when you saw a notification appear on your screen.
(gyu :) )
[beomgyu, 9:17 pm] y/n! how are you feeling now? :(
[y/n, 9:17 pm] definitely better now, especially because of your help :)
[beomgyu, 9:17 pm] i’m glad
[beomgyu, 9:18 pm] are you busy rn?
[y/n, 9:18 pm] no, why?
[beomgyu, 9:18 pm] look outside the window ;)
confused, you got up from the bed and peeked through the window blinds, spotting a smiling beomgyu waving his hand at you from the sidewalk. you couldn’t help but return his smile as you looked at him, already in his pyjamas with a jacket over his shirt and a small basket in his hand. you opened the window and shouted “wait- i’ll be down in a sec.” stumbling as you rushed to climb down the stairs and put on your shoes. you quickly ran your fingers through your hair and took a deep breath to regain your composure. you were taken aback when you saw beomgyu right in front of you, hand raised up to knock on the door just as you opened it.
“hi.” he spoke softly.
“hi-” you breathed out “want to come in?”
“ah-“ he cleared his throat, his eyes meeting the floor instead of your face “i just wanted to bring you this.” he brought the hand holding the basket in front of you, its contents hidden away with the help of a pink wrapping paper. you pushed it to the side, careful so as not to rip it too much. your eyes widened once you discover small boxes with fresh assorted fruits like strawberries, cherries, grapes...and a tiny bear plush placed in the middle of everything.
“thought these might cheer you up a bit. i snuck those away from the bar once my shift ended. don’t tell on me though, soobin might kick my ass if he finds out”
“beomgyu-“ you stammered “thank you, but you didn’t have to-” you were pushing the basket back towards him, overwhelmed by his sweet gestures. he caught your wrists with his hands, moving them towards your chest.
“but i did have to” he leaned down, bringing his face to the same level as your own “if i saw you smile, then that means it was worth it, even if i do get in trouble” his words rolled off his tongue slowly, with a low rasp. you noticed the way beomgyu’s eyes moved away from yours to glance at your lips, then going back to the floor, stopping for a second, hesitating, before deciding to quickly steal away a kiss from your cheek.
“go back inside now, you should get some rest.”
without even realising it, you brought a hand up to your face, touching the same spot he just caressed with his lips. he tilted his head, chuckling after seeing your flustered expression. “good night, y/n” he put his hands in his pockets, turning his back to walk towards the alleyway.
what you weren’t aware of though, was just how loudly beomgyu’s heart was beating against his chest.
───⋆☆─────────────
the end of august, also known as the start of the party season at the beach. with tourists ending their trips and leaving soon, as well as with the weather on the cusp of changing, the workers at the beach started preparing for their annual series of events (which was actually more of an excuse to make people purchase more alcohol)
“we’re doing what tonight?” you asked yeji, resisting the urge to throw the pillow in your lap at her.
“listen- i know you’re finding out about this late, but-“
“but?” you pressed your lips together, lifting an eyebrow.
“but you would have declined the invitation right away-“ yeji sighed “now it’s too late to tell them that we’re not going. remember our promise? to take up on new opportunities?”
you remained silent, crossing your arms and glaring at yeji.
“come on, it’s the first party. if you don’t like it then i won’t pressure you to go to the rest. let’s just try it and see how it goes” yeji got on her knees, holding your hand and looking at you with pleading eyes.
“fine.” you gave in, yeji’s words managed to persuade you yet again. she squealed, capturing you in a tight hug. she wasted no time to drag you into her room and help you get ready. her face was basically radiating as she showed you all the makeup and outfit choices, there was just no way you could refuse her anymore. you just let her do her thing, putting all your trust into her tastes.
the more you walked towards the beach, the louder the music was becoming. you were tempted to do a full 180 and make a run for it, but your conscience didn’t allow you. plus, you truly believed that yeji would simply take her heels off to go after you and drag you back. you felt out of place in the big crowd of people, overwhelmed by the loud beats combining with people shouting in a poor attempt to communicate with each other. you were busy frantically scanning the area for a familiar figure, but you somehow missed yeonjun coming right in your direction. you were taken aback when you noticed him standing in front of you.
“hi, cutie. glad to see you here” yeonjun greeted you.
“hi-“ your eyes trailed down over his body. his white button-up shirt wasn’t closed all the way, giving you a peek at his exposed chest and the delicate silver necklace sitting on top of it. you bit your lip trying to shift your focus from the pretty man in front of you back to the conversation. he winked at you when you tried to make eye contact with him again. shit. your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red; he definitely noticed you staring at him. you quickly turned around and took a shot from the drinks table close to you. you grimaced as the alcohol sent a dash of fire down your throat, yet you still extended your hand for more.
yeji grabbed your arm “hey- hey, take it easy. we only just arrived.”
“and i’ve already embarrassed myself” you whispered back, covering your face with your hands.
“i’m sure whatever you did isn’t that bad. you’re gonna embarrass yourself more if you get wasted within the first hour anyway.”
you pressed your lips together. she was right- you just didn’t want to admit it out loud. “come on, i want to check out the dessert table. i heard soobin did a pretty good job with that” yeji said, grabbing your wrist and dragging you along with her.
yeji tested out almost every single dessert at the party. each time she took a bite of something new, she insisted that you tried it too because “this one was really the best”. you found it amusing but in some way, she was right, soobin really outdid himself this time. the cupcakes in particular were your favorite. the cake was so soft and moist, and the frosting was soft like velvet, immediately melting down on your tongue. they were seriously addicting. you were about to dive into another vanilla cupcake when you felt a tap on your shoulder. it was yeonjun who came up to you again.
“y/n- join me for a dance?”
your eyes glanced back at yeji, then at the cupcake in your hand. you were very tempted to say yes, but you didn’t want to leave her alone either. the idea of abandoning your cupcake didn’t sound that good either.
“go ahead” yeji said, snatching the cupcake you were holding. “i was about to go to hueningkai anyway- i wanted to have a look at his playlist. have fun you two” she sent a wink your way before quickly leaving, not even sparing you a chance to argue.
“shall we?” yeonjun stretched out his hand for you to take, which you nervously took. he led you to the middle of the dance floor, making you internally panic. having not gone to many parties in your lifetime, you weren’t confident in showing off your dance moves, especially right in front of yeonjun.
yeonjun must have sensed your worries, dipping down to whisper in your ear, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. “just focus on me- don’t mind everyone else.” you were still holding his hand, so he took this chance to lift his arm up and playfully spin you around. you couldn’t help but giggle, slowly starting to ease up. you tried to ignore everyone else invading your vision, focusing on him and only him as you swayed your body along the rhythm of the music. you couldn’t help yourself but grab two more shots, one for you and one for yeonjun, when you saw one of the baristas coming down your way with a silver platter full of alcoholic drinks. ‘it’s for a little confidence boost’ you told yourself. for tonight, you were finally allowing yourself to be free from any worries, and to simply enjoy the moment.
you weren’t aware of how much time had passed since you stepped foot on the dance floor, and you were very tempted to take a break and let your legs rest for a while. but it seemed like the dj wasn’t going to let that happen anytime soon. the up-beat music that had been playing for the past hour was suddenly changed to a slow, jazzy song. you looked up at yeonjun with wide eyes, and he bit his lips, looking as surprised as you did. yet, he didn’t pull away. his hands dropped down from their position on your shoulders, trailing down your arms and then moving to your waist, leaving hot trails everywhere he touched your body. your body unconsciously moved closer to his, a bright red blush adoring your cheeks. your mind couldn’t focus on anything else but his hands on you. the sound of the music combining with your loud heartbeat made you feel light-headed.
“i want to kiss you” he whispered, resting his forehead on yours, his grip on your waist tightening “but if i do then i might not be able to contain myself.” he breathed out. your hand moved up to the nape of his neck, about to give in to the sweet temptation, when all of a sudden taehyun lightly tugged yeonjun by the collar of his shirt, creating distance between the two of you.
“loverboy, go check up on soobin, he’s having trouble setting up the fog machine”
“right now?”
“yes, now. come on” taehyun grabbed yeonjun, not letting him argue. ‘strange’ you remembered that the fog machine was already on when you arrived.
yeji and beomgyu appeared by your side just a few seconds later “where’s yeonjun?”
“ah- soobin was searching for him. guess i was kind of abandonded” you tried to laugh it off “can we go somewhere quieter?” the music is starting to mess with my brain.
“i’ll grab some drinks and i’ll meet you near the shore, there’s some log benches there.”
you nodded, holding onto yeji’s sleeve so as not to lose her. you felt like you could finally breathe again once you stepped foot on the sand. you couldn’t lie, parties did seem fun, but those where you’re almost completely surrounded by strangers? not so much. you held on until most people left, enjoying yeji’s and beomgyu’s company, cracking silly jokes as you kept on drinking. it was only after midnight when the rest of the boys joined you, with a few of the other people lingering around.
“anybody up for a few rounds of truth or dare?” yeji shouted.
“i’m in” beomgyu replied, raising his hand.
“i guess i’m in too” you sighed. truth or dare wasn’t really your cup of tea, but you didn’t want to ruin the other’s mood.
“everybody gather around the fire then” yeonjun said “and remember- no buts, no maybes” he snickered.
you noticed how beomgyu looked at you and opened his mouth, then closed it back again after yeonjun said down next to him. his body seemed to slump down after that; you wondered whether it was you who he wanted to sit close to.
“i’ll be the one to get this started” yeonjun stated, looking at every person over the hot flames of the fire, only for his eyes to land back on the person to his right. “beomgyu, truth or dare?”
beomgyu paused for a moment, then answered simply “truth.”
“you’re starting off easy?” he asked, the words rolling off his tongue with a playful, yet mischievous tone “well then- beomgyu, do you have a crush?”
“yes.” he answered shortly. beomgyu was sitting right across from you, and you could notice his body slowly tensing up as his arms hugged his waist tighter.
“and is your crush by any chance here with us?” yeonjun probed on further.
“that’s 2 questions” beomgyu frowned, looking at him.
“you didn’t let me finish.” yeonjun raised his hands defensively.
“yes- they are.” he answered then took a sip of his beer. however, what you failed to notice was him sneaking a glance in your direction as he said that.
everybody around you let out an “ooo” at beomgyu’s answer; people were giggling and nudging beomgyu, teasing him to reveal the name of the person. for some reason, the fact that he had a crush was tugging at your heartstrings. you were secretly hoping that the person he was talking about was you, but you weren’t ready to admit that to yourself.
“my turn now-“ beomgyu took another sip, his eyes scanned the room, then stopped on your figure. “y/n, truth or dare?”
you pondered for a moment. “truth.” you didn’t want to be the first one to try a dare, even if it was from beomgyu. he smiled “have you ever been in a relationship?” he asked, eyes sparkling from the light of the fire.
“no, actually.” you sighed “i was always too busy stressing over school- and look where that got me” you looked down and chuckled drily.
beomgyu nodded, seemingly getting a bit lost in thought. he wanted to continue, to talk to you more, but he restrained himself from doing so. he knew that this wasn’t the right moment to discuss your private life, not with everyone else around.
“let’s see- who should be the next victim?” you clicked your tongue “soobin- what do you prefer?”
───⋆☆─────────────
two hours of truth or dare later, soobin’s last shot was the one that tipped him off, and yeonjun offered to guide him back home before he had the chance to throw up on the beach. a few people stated that they were going to the bathroom, but in fact never returned; you didn’t want to know why. yeji was too tired to stay there any longer, so she left you behind. meaning, it was only you and beomgyu left on the now quiet beach. the fire was dying down, and beomgyu scooted closer to you, offering to share a blanket.
“how does one more round sound?” he asked you.
“i wouldn’t mind that” you laughed, feeling a bit nervous all of a sudden.
“truth or dare?” beomgyu whispered.
“dare.”
“dare, huh...?” he muttered “i dare you to dive into the water.” beomgyu smirked, playfully tilting his head to the side.
you were taken aback by his words, but your stubbornness didn’t allow you to back down.“okay.” you said, looking into his eyes. “turn around then. i don’t want my dress to get wet.”beomgyu’s eyes widened, clearly not expecting you to accept his dare. still, he did just like you asked.
you slid your dress off, then carefully placed it on one of the seats. you inhaled air deeply into your lungs as you approached the water, then jumped straight in, trying to get this over with as quickly as possible.
“truth or dare?” you shouted.
“dare.” beomgyu shouted back.
“i dare you to join me.”
beomgyu wasted no time taking off his shirt then quickly diving into the water, splashing you in the process. you immediately returned the favour when he got back up to the surface.
“hey- you’re gonna pay for that” he jokingly threatened you.
“make me.”
you both attacked each other with water, only the sound of your laughter filling up the quietness of the now peaceful night. “okay- i surrender.” beomgyu shouted again, catching your wrists with his hands to finally make you stop. he got closer to you, your laughter dying down as his close proximity made you feel nervous.
“you look so beautiful in the moonlight” he said as he hooked his finger around yours, guiding you around in the water. and you followed him mindlessly, as if you as if he’s got you right under his spell. his hands detached themselves from your own, moving to your waist. and you were so close to him, nose to nose, his breath combining his yours, his eyelashes tickling your lids- and yet, you still couldn’t allow yourself. you couldn’t allow yourself to be victim of your foolish desires.
you looked over your shoulder, worried that someone might have come back and noticed what was happening. what if someone saw you two? saw the two of you fooling around in the blue waves of the sea, what if someone saw his fingers trailing your back or how your own nested at his nape? your brain kept thinking of all the possible ways you might get in trouble, fighting to remain in power as his hot breath gathered itself at your neck, distracting yourself from any rational thoughts.
“y/n! are you still here?” you suddenly heard a voice shouting, which you recognised was yeji’s.
“yeah-“ you shouted back “don’t worry, i’ll be back soon no need to wait for me”
“send me a text when you leave!” she shouted again before walking away.
you looked at beomgyu with apologetic eyes.
“guess i can’t have you all for myself tonight.” he looked at you with a soft smile, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear “yeji’s stealing you away from me again.” he laughed.
“i’m sorry...” you whispered, lowering your head.
"there's no need to apologise", he said, a beat of heart and a pause following his words, "it's getting late anyway, you should rest, especially after such a night." the wind picked up your sigh before it could reach him, before it could whisper to him to come closer again, to take a step towards you, warm hands to envelop your waist and soft hair locks to tickle your skin again. you took a step back. "what an eventful night" you said under your breath. "what an eventful night", he picks up your words just as they roll off your tongue, giving you a smile. the air between you kept getting thicker and thicker, unspoken words and wishes weighing the both of you further into the soft shore. “wait just a second- i’ll be right back.” he rushed to get out of the water and sprinted to the bar. as he was coming back you could see him holding a small towel, which he handed to you.
“here, it’s nothing much, but i thought it might help you dry off- at least a little bit” he said rubbing the nape of his neck.
“it’s great” you smiled “thank you, beomgyu.”
he was also holding something behind his back, which he only revealed after you were done using the towel and putting your dress back on.
“have this too...” he looked away, the tips of his ears turning a pretty shade of pink. “i don’t want you to feel cold” he was holding out his white button up shirt for you to wear. you could feel your body reacting the same way as you thanked him and slided your arms into the sleeves. the faint scent of his cologne lingering on the soft material setting your heart on fire.
the walk back home was quiet, spent with the both of you sneaking a few shy glances at each other, his hand brushing against your ever so often, itching to hold yours again. for the first time during your stay you were disappointed that your house was so close to the beach, because it meant that you and beomgyu had to part ways so quickly.
“oh! your shirt- i almost forgot. let me take it off-“ 
his hands reacted fast, stopping you before you could do that “no- keep it, please. it looks good on you”
“o-oh. thank you” you stuttered. the both of you hesitated to part ways once again, too enticed by each other’s presence.
───⋆☆─────────────
beomgyu's ending | yeonjun's ending
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taglist: @huekalover3000 @maybabe00 @sunoooism
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atinylittlepain · 10 months
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Crush On You
no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader
Hungry Hearts masterlist
The summer of '86, a season of love, record-breaking heat, and evening softball games in one Austin neighborhood. What happens when seventeen years later, that lost love comes back around?
warnings | 18+ cursing, smut, young joel is a goddamn menace
wordcount | 9K
a/n | hi folks, i come bearing part two of my hungry hearts series. she's long, okay? i'm sorry, the spirit of young joel possessed me what can i say. hope y'all enjoy this one, come tell me what you think in my inbox! also much love, much thanks to my trenchcoat brother @northernbluess for beta-reading this baby - love you, cousin
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“Well, well, look who has graced us with her presence. How’d you scare her out of hiding, Miller?”
“Oh, you know, black mail, extortion, a cattle prod.” Her scowl is lost on the pair as Mikey Donahue pulls Joel into a hug that’s more of a gruff back slap than anything else before promptly putting a beer in his hand. Meanwhile, she’s already regretting her decision to come along, trying to temper her grimace when Mikey hooks his arm around her shoulders to crush her into his side, grinning big and boozy down at her.
“Good to see you, big city. College suits you.” She has to laugh, seeing as Mikey didn’t have the time of day for her in high school and now he seems to be all too intent on laying the charm on thick.
“Thanks, Mikey, that’s real, uh, kind of you.” Before Mikey can reply with what she’s sure would be an equally charming remark, Joel curls his fingers in the neck of his t-shirt to pry him away from her, steering him further into the house.
“Alright, Mike, don’t scare her off, I just got her in the door. C’mon, man, I was promised a keg stand here.” All she gets from Joel is one more glance over his shoulder before she has been left entirely alone in a sea of her old classmates, with quite literally no escape route, considering she drove here in Joel’s rusted-out pick-up truck. 
She fields a few polite hellos, trying her best to move through the house as unnoticed as possible to get to the backyard and away from the smell of sweat and socially anxious bodies. Mercifully, there’s only a few people outside, couples all tangled up and people smoking around the edge of the pool. She forgot Mikey Donahue had a pool, though she supposes his parents were always notorious for their money and how visible they made it. 
This wasn’t her scene in high school, and it certainly isn’t now. Honestly, she’s not sure why she agreed to go with Joel in the first place. Oh yeah, Lisa-Anne. She kind of wishes she let Lisa-Anne have this one. 
“Hey, big city, there you are!” Mikey again, this time with no Joel to wrangle him off and away from her. He really is the quintessential all-american boy, home from some expensive east coast school that she can’t remember the name of, the whole blonde and blue eye thing, floppy and smiley like a well-bred golden retriever. She isn’t quite sure where this sudden chumminess with her has come from, they certainly didn’t run in the same circles as teenagers. But there isn’t much room to ponder it when he has once again slung his arm around her, his face so close to hers that she can smell the pabst blue ribbon he probably just tossed back. 
“Remind me what you’re studying all the way up in Chicago?” She knows for a fact that drunk Mikey has a temper, like, punching holes in the walls of his parents’ basement temper, so she makes no move to push him away, though she’d really like nothing more right now, trying and failing to create even an inch more of distance between them. Mikey doesn’t like that, dropping his arm to sling low around her waist, his fingers brushing against the bare skin between her jean shorts and where the fabric of her t-shirt has rucked up. 
“I’m studying English.” It comes out smaller and quieter than she would like it to, her throat tightening with something like panic at Mikey’s continued advancements. On his part, Mikey seems to find the whole thing amusing, tossing his head back in a hard laugh.
“That’s right, always a little bookworm, weren’t you? Tell me this, what the hell can you even do with an English degree, big city?” 
“You can do a lot of things with an English degree, Mike.” She’s just pissed off enough to finally yank out of his grip, sending him stumbling a few feet back, though he’s quick to recover with a laugh that sounds a little less friendly. 
“I know it’s been a while since you’ve been home, big city, so I’m gonna do you a favor and pretend like that was just an accident.” 
“Hey, Mike, where’d you go, man?” She’s never been so happy to hear Joel’s voice in her life, she thinks, taking one more subtle step back as he sidles up next to Mikey and slings his arm around his shoulders. The light from inside the house casts shadows over Joel’s forearm where it’s draped against Mikey’s chest, and she can see the tendons jumping there from how hard he’s holding onto him, though it otherwise looks like a friendly embrace.
“Was just catching up with that one, Miller, so you can fuck right off, thanks.” And there it is. She feels herself wince with the bite of Mikey’s words, though Joel stays completely calm, a placid and altogether unsettling smile quirking up his mouth. 
“I think you’ve had enough to drink, man. Why don’t you leave the nice girl alone and go sleep it off before you do something you’re gonna regret?” She should probably do something other than stand there and stare at what is probably, definitely about to become a bad scene, a small crowd starting to form around them already. But she feels frozen where she stands, her eyes darting between Mikey’s sneer, and Joel’s ticking jaw. 
“And who’s gonna make me regret it, Miller, huh? You?” Because they are apparently still children, the crowd of people let out a low chorus of ooooh at that. And then for a moment it’s perfectly silent and perfectly still, Joel and Mikey staring each other down in a strange, half-way thing between an embrace and a strangle-hold. But by the time she blinks again, the both of them have swung, Mikey missing and Joel making clipped contact with the side of Mikey’s jaw. It’s just enough to send Mikey stumbling back and over the edge of the pool, and because he’s still got a fist clenched in Joel’s shirt, he gets yanked in after him. 
The crowd is quick to disperse after such a disappointing climax to their little spat, and while Mikey hauls himself out of the pool on the other side like a drowned cat, she finds herself offering out her hand to an equally sodden Joel. He drips all over her sneakers when he gets out, his flannel clinging to his torso, damp and darkened, something she tries not to pay too much attention to. 
“You okay?” 
“I’m not the one who just fell into a pool.” He drags a hand through his hair to get it slicked back out of his face, water still dripping off the tip of his nose as he looks at her. For a moment, she thinks that he looks small, a slight shiver in his shoulders, his eyes wide and his lashes all stuck together. He looks young, and he’s looking at her and only her. 
“I’m fine, Cher, let’s get out of here, huh? This party is dead anyways.” With a quick shake back of his shoulders and a thumb swiped under his nose, that familiar front has already slipped back into place. But she’s fine with it if it means they’re going to get out of this place, letting Joel lead the barreling way back through the house, his sneakers squeaking and squelching with every step. And even though he looks ridiculous, dripping all over the hardwood floors of Mikey’s parents’ house, he keeps his chin tilted up like he owns the place and his shoulders squared off as broad as his leanness will allow, easily parting a path for them through the crowd and out onto the front lawn. 
Neither of them speak when they get into the car, leaving the radio off as the engine splutters to life and they start winding their way back out of the wealthy neighborhood. She wants to say something, to thank him, to ask him if he’s sure that he’s okay, but she can’t find the right words, twisting her hands in her lap and watching the way the truck’s headlights spill out over the road. 
“So you’re really going for it out in Chicago?” His voice breaking the silence startles her out of her simmering mind, and when she glances over at him, he only offers her a quick side sweep of his eyes before he focuses back on the road. 
“You said you’re studying English?” He heard that? How long was he watching her and Mikey?
“Oh, um, yeah, yes.” She keeps her focus on the knuckles of his hand draped over the top of the steering wheel, a subtle tension and flexion to his grip.
“Gonna be a big shot writer, right? That was always your dream, wasn’t it?”
“When I was a kid, yeah. I don’t know, I’ll probably end up teaching, though I think my parents expect me to just wind up married and pregnant by the end of it anyways.” He snorts at that, shaking his head though he keeps his eyes on the road. 
“You were always writing stories, Cherry.”
“Uh-huh.” Honestly, she’s surprised he held onto that fact, the ratty composition books she carried around everywhere as a child, and well into her teens too. 
“Ever write one about me?” 
“Oh, sure.” 
“Wait, really?” His eyes finally dart over to her, eyebrows shot up his forehead and she has to bite back a laugh.
“Yeah, it was about your astonishing humility and non-existent ego.” She can barely get it out with a straight face, already dissolving into another laugh as Joel rolls his eyes at her dig. 
“Alright, alright, guess I walked into that one.” They’ve just pulled up in front of her house, Joel flicking off the headlights so her parents don’t notice. For once, she’s in no hurry to get away from him, an honestly foreign feeling as they sit in his truck. He’s still soaking wet, his hair starting to stick up every which way from how it’s drying, though he seems perfectly content to keep staring at her, something like a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. 
“You don’t like being home very much, do you, Cherry?” 
“I really don’t, no.” She says it on a long sigh, no idea why she’s inclined to be honest with him like that. 
“How come?” 
“I feel like no one takes me seriously down here.” 
“I do.”
“Joel.”
“What? I do.”
“How can that possibly be true when you still call me a name that came from me snorting soda out of my nose?” 
“Okay, maybe originally it came from that, but that’s not why I call you it now, not really.”
“Please enlighten me then, why do you call me that?” His brow furrows for a moment, like he’s choosing his words carefully, opening and closing his mouth a few times before he finally answers.
“Because– because I just do, okay? But I do take you seriously, for the record.” She leans her head back on the seatrest, tilting her chin to look at him where he has his arm hanging over the steering wheel, his full body leaning and twisting toward her.
“Yeah?”
“Uh-huh, and I’m gonna want a signed copy of your first book.”
“Oh please.”
“I’m dead serious, Cher. I probably won’t read it, but I reckon it’ll be worth something when you get all famous and shit.”
“Lovely, Joel, thanks so much for that.” He shrugs, though his gaze stays steady with hers, and it happens again, that softening around the edges, that kid she remembers. And again, it’s gone in a flash, Joel suddenly leaning toward her in an unexpected way. And, well, she reacts before she can really think.
“Jesus! What the fuck, Cher?” He has bodily recoiled from her back into the driver’s side, his palm cupping his cheek where she just landed a hard smack with the flat of her hand. 
“Me what the fuck? You what the fuck? What the hell was that, Joel?”
“I don’t– I thought we were having a– a nice moment!” She goes to open the passenger side door, but Joel is quick to reach over and shut it again like a petulant child, eliciting a bitter laugh from her.
“We were until you pulled that shit. I’m not one of your little housewives that you can do whatever you want with.” This time, he doesn’t try to stop her when she clambers out of the truck, though he isn’t quite finished yet. 
“Oh c’mon, Cherry! This ain’t playing fair!” She quickly shushes him before he starts to wake up half the neighborhood with his exclamations, only staying close enough to the car so she can whisper yell back at him.
“I’m not playing, Joel. Do me a favor and just stay away from me, why don’t you?”
While Sarah may not be the strongest batter, which is okay because Joel is working with her on it most afternoons, she makes for a mean third baseman, though part of him secretly wishes she played shortstop more often. And though he’s usually busy shouting reminders and tips at her from the bleachers, Joel is a bit preoccupied today watching something else, or someone else is more like it. 
He’s never been so pissed at chain link fencing in his life for obscuring his view of her, standing in front of the bleachers with her arms crossed and her hip cocked out as she watches the game from behind sunglasses and a ball cap. But he’s also never been more grateful for the Austin swelter because it means that she’s in a tank top and jean shorts, and he’s pretty sure his mind is starting to short-circuit because it looks to him like Cherry picked up some tattoos in the last seventeen years. He can’t tell what they are from this distance, something wrapped over her right shoulder and down her bicep, and, fuck him, something on the top of her right thigh. So maybe he’s craning his neck a little to try to make out what the ink is, and maybe he should be paying more attention to the game, because when there’s suddenly some sort of scuffle on the field between the umpire and one of Sarah’s coaches, he has no clue what he missed. 
“That was an out, are you kidding me? She tagged her!” He’s sitting close enough to third that he’s pretty sure it’s Ellie, at least he thinks that was her name, who the umpire and the coach are arguing over whether Sarah got her out or not before she stepped on third. Yeah, definitely Ellie, because here comes Cherry from the bleachers on the other side. 
“Her foot was on the base when she tagged her, that wasn’t an out!” The umpire looks at Cherry with an amount of exasperation that tells Joel they’ve interacted before. Cherry, meanwhile, has her cap off and her sunglasses slanted down her nose to look at the ump with all the kindness of a parole officer.
“Ma’am please let us handle this and return to the bleachers.” He’s not sure why he decides to get involved, it’s not like he actually saw what happened. But the combination of it being Sarah who either did or didn’t get Ellie out and his own small desire to get a little closer to Cherry, regardless of the context, has him up off the bleachers and hooking his fingers through the chain link fence. 
“I’m pretty sure it was an out, I had a better view of it than you did, Cher.” Judging by the way she scoffs and shakes her head, he probably shouldn’t have called her that, though there isn’t much time to ponder that when she’s walking over to him and getting as up in his face as she can with the thin mesh of chain link separating them. 
“Don’t Cher me, Joel.”
“Mom, please, it’s fine, I’m pretty sure she got me before I tagged up.” Ellie and Sarah both look pretty ready for this situation to be over, huffing and rolling their eyes at their parents’ strange display. 
“Els, you are not out, okay? You’re gonna stay on third and the game is gonna get going again–”
“Always were a sore loser.” It just slips out, and it isn’t even true. He was the sore loser, and he knows it, and judging by the way Cherry whips back around to glare at him, he has just incurred her admittedly deserved wrath. 
“Oh, that is real rich coming from you, Joel Miller, you are–”
“Alright, folks, we don’t have time for this and I’m going to have to ask you both to wait in the parking lot while we finish this game.”
“What?” They say it at nearly the same time to the umpire, who just shakes his head at them and points toward the parking lot next to the ball field. 
“Both of you, out of here, or I’m going to disqualify both of your girls from playing.” Well, really no arguing with that, especially not when Sarah and Ellie are giving them both pleading looks from behind the umpire. Cherry doesn’t give him another look, simply mutters an apology to the umpire before heading off toward the parking lot. And all he can do is sheepishly follow behind her with his own apology and a gruff play well offered to Sarah who just rolls her eyes at him.
No, not exactly what he had in mind for their second meeting.
He probably shouldn’t, but since he already seems to be playing the fool, he figures he doesn’t have much to lose in approaching her where she’s sitting in the popped-open trunk of her minivan, her sunglasses pushed up to the crown of her head and her legs swinging idly over the lip of the trunk. 
“I’m, uh, sorry about all that.” Her eyebrows raise, a weary look that makes something hot and slippery curl in his gut, a little bashful under her gaze. 
“I am too, I guess. They probably shouldn’t let us on the field together, huh?” Her words crack a bit dryly with the curl of her smile, instant relief washing over him in mirroring her expression. 
“No, I reckon not.” She doesn’t say anything more, just scoots her hips to one side and pats the space next to her, an invitation he tries not to seem so eager to take as he sits down beside her. Close enough now that he can get a better look at the tattoo on her arm and her thigh. Something beating hard in his chest and tightening up his throat when he realizes that it’s a bouquet of chrysanthemums etched into her thigh. And on her arm, spiraling over her bicep and across her shoulder is a branch of a cherry tree.
There’s no other option on a Sunday. She wishes more than anything that there was, but she knows that everywhere else is closed. 
“Thatcher’s auto and towing, how can I help you?” She hasn’t spoken to him in two weeks, not since that night they went to Mikey Donahue’s party. She even started picking Will up herself for dinner to avoid having him anywhere near her, pointedly ignoring the his shouts of her name from the ball field whenever she does. So hearing his voice gives her pause, and she nearly hangs the payphone back up, but she really has no other option right now.
“Uh, hi, my car broke down and I need to get it towed.”
“Cherry?” 
“Um, yes?” There’s a long pause on the other end, though she’s pretty sure she can hear him let out a deep sigh. 
“Shit, okay, where are you?”
“I’m out by the new mall, um, I think right off of eighth street? I don’t know what’s wrong with it, honestly it just sort of– gave out on me.” 
“Alright, I’ll be there in five, just stay right where you are.” 
“Well, I can’t exactly go anywhere else, Joel.” She can hear the sound of something metal clanging around in the background, followed by Joel letting out a low curse.
“Right, yeah, just hang tight.” With that, he hangs up with a quiet click, and all that’s left to do is walk the two blocks back to her car. Technically, it’s her mom’s car, her old station wagon that had been given to her as a graduation gift, dark green with wood paneling and a dent in the back bumper that she has somehow managed to hide from both of her parents for a year now. She gives the car another once over, definitely nothing wrong with her tires, and she’s not even going to pretend like she’d know what’s going on under the hood, so she settles against the side of the car door and bides her time watching the slow trickle of traffic pass by.
It’s the middle of the afternoon, another record-breaking day of heat, she’s pretty sure. At least it feels that way, her eyes set in a perpetual squint under the hard beat of the sun as she swipes at the sweat on her forehead with the back of her wrist. Though mercifully she’s not waiting for long when a truck with the Thatcher’s Auto logo on the side comes pulling up alongside where she had managed to park her car on the shoulder of the road. He hops out of the truck, dressed in a pair of coveralls with the sleeves tied around his waist, a white wife beater on top that’s smeared with grease stains, and she has to remind herself that she’s still pissed at him when his dimple pops with a sheepish smile as he approaches her, tugging the baseball cap off his head to run a hand through his hair before settling his hat on backwards.
“Hey, Cherry, um, how– how have you been?” 
“I’ve been better, Joel, considering that my car won’t even start.” Nope, she’s not going to give him anything else, setting her jaw in a hard line and jerking her chin back over her shoulder as if to say get on with it. Joel seems to take the hint, giving her a jerky nod before taking a quick look around her car. 
“Well, your tires look fine. Lemme pop the hood and see if it’s anything obvious.” She hopes more than anything that it is something obvious, that she isn’t going to have to drive back to the shop with him, but judging by the way Joel lets the hood close with a shake of his head, she doesn’t think she has gotten so lucky. 
“I don’t know, Cher, I think you’re gonna have to come back to the shop with me so I can take a closer look.” She pinches the bridge of her nose, trying to hold back a frustrated groan before she finally looks at Joel again. 
“Okay, fine, and how long is that gonna take, do you think?”
“Got a few other cars I have to take care of first, but it shouldn’t be too long. You okay to wait at the shop?”
“I don’t think I have much of a choice, so yeah.” She waits in the cab of the truck while Joel hitches her car up, keeping her eyes flicked down and out of the passenger window when he gets back in. 
“You giving me the silent treatment?”
“No, I just don’t have anything to say to you.” She doesn’t look at him as she says it, but she can hear the huff of a sigh he lets out before he cranks the truck into drive. He doesn’t try to talk to her for the rest of the drive, and she keeps her arms crossed pointedly in front of her chest, her whole body angled toward the passenger-side door. However, when they pull into the garage at Thatcher’s and she tries to get out, the lock on her door promptly clicks down and the handle won’t budge. 
“Can we just talk for a second, Cher?” She pries the lock back open, but just as soon as she does, Joel clicks it back into place, forcing her to finally glare at him. His brow is furrowed and his knee is bouncing in his seat, and if she didn’t know any better, she’d guess that he’s nervous. 
“Fine, what is so important that you have to lock me into your truck like a goddamn serial killer?”
“Wouldn’t have had to if you weren’t being so goddamn stubborn to begin with.” She lets out a clipped bark of laughter at that, once again pulling the lock up on her own to try to get out, and once again, like a deranged comedy act, he clicks it back into place before she can even get her fingers around the handle. 
“Joel Miller, I swear to God, if you don’t let me out of this car right now I’m going to scream.”
“I just– just– fuck, Cherry, I’m sorry, okay? I wanted to say that I’m sorry.” That gives her pause. There have been only two other times in her life that Joel has apologized to her. The first time was when they were eight years old, and really, she thinks, it shouldn’t count because his mom forced him to, her hand between his small shoulder blades nudging him forward to say sorry for pulling on her braid from the pew behind her at church and making her cry. 
The second time, they were ten. That one does count. She was sitting on the swings at the playground down the street, scribbling in her notebook when a little crew of boys in the grade above her came out of nowhere and started heckling her. Joel showed up on his bike as she was picking up the tattered pages and scraps of what had been the story she was working on in her notebook. She remembers that she was trying really hard not to cry in front of him when he knelt down beside her to help her gather the torn pieces, small hands trying to make it right. He had nothing to be sorry for, but he still said that he was real sorry, Cher, quiet, and sounding much older and wearier than a ten-year-old should. That one counts. But otherwise, those words coming out of his mouth have been non-existent, so she can’t help but fall silent to hear just what he has to say. 
“You’re sorry?” He takes off his cap again, setting it down on the dash of the truck and dragging his hand back through his hair, very clearly having to work himself up to saying it again when he finally looks at her.
“Yeah, I’m sorry about what happened after Mikey’s party. I just– I thought that you–”
“Thought that I what? Did you really think I was going to be that easy, Joel?”
“What? No, if you would just let me finish speaking for Christ’s sake, I know that’s kind of difficult for you and your big mouth–”
“Wow, Joel, you really know how to apologize to a girl, huh?” With that, he slams the heel of his hand against the steering wheel, letting out a sharp curse that makes any other smart remarks fizzle out in her throat. 
“You know what, Cher? Just forget it. You can go wait in the office and I’ll have your car ready for you as soon as I can.” He finally unlocks the car door, and she’s more than happy to get out and slam it behind her.
“Fine.”
“Yeah, fine.”
“So is your wife not a fan of softball?”
“My what?” 
“Your wife, does she not like coming to games?” All he can do is laugh for a moment, pure disbelief at her question, and when he finally looks at her again, her brow still furrowed in confusion, he shakes his head with a huff.
“Is that like a funny question or something?” Just a little snap of annoyance behind her words, though he’s quick to respond, holding out his left hand in between them, his decidedly ringless left hand. 
“A little bit considering there is no wife.” It’s the middle of the fourth inning from what he can tell, still plenty of time for them to be not allowed on the field, sitting in the back of Cherry’s car. 
“Oh, but– was there one? I mean, Sarah’s mom?” 
“Uh, no, she’s not in the picture, at all.”
“I’m sorry.” 
“Don’t be. But, uh, what about you? I mean– is Ellie’s– is your, uh–” She cuts off his floundering with a nudge of her shoulder against his, a tight smile on her lips.
“Not in the picture.”
“At all?”
“Never, doesn’t even know Ellie exists.”
“Shit, Cher, that had to have been hard.” She laughs, a clipped sound in the back of her throat as she slides her sunglasses back down onto her nose, keeping her gaze out on the field in front of them. He quickly does the math in his head, pretty sure that Ellie and Sarah are the same age, something heavy and hot settling in his chest when he realizes that she would have only been twenty-two when she had her daughter, just like him. It’s an aching fact, one that his mind starts to swim with, though her voice pulls him out of it quickly.
“It definitely wasn’t easy, but I’d like to think I’ve done alright.”
“I’ll say, it seems like every year there’s a new book of yours in the news for being a bestseller.” She turns to look at him at that, her eyebrows raised and her lips parted before settling into a slight smile.
“Have you read any of them?” 
“I didn’t think you’d want me to.” His answer seems to stop her, her face falling behind the darkness of her sunglasses, though she’s quick to catch herself with a breathy humph before turning her eyes back on the field in the distance. He wishes he could tuck those words back in his throat, try that again if only to keep her eyes on him. 
“Are your folks still in town?”
“Oh yeah, dinner every Sunday with them still.” She hums, a light sound that curls with her smile, though she still doesn’t look at him. 
“That must be nice.”
“I think ma would throw a parade if she knew you were back in town.”
“Oh please.”
“I’m dead serious, Cher.” There, she looks at him again, her smile turning crooked as she nudges her shoulder against his, an easy moment that still makes his heart kick up in his chest. 
“And Tommy’s still around? Miller’s Construction, right?” He must have a funny look on his face when she says that because she laughs again, something warm and flushed creeping into her cheeks that makes his mind go a little fritzed. 
“I promise I’m not stalking you, I was just looking for someone to come fix some stuff at the new house. Sounds like you two have done well for yourselves.” His mind still hasn’t caught up, still such a strange feeling to have her here in the present, talking about these things in the present, all these normal, very grown up things. 
“Uh, yes, yeah, we do alright. Tommy is still a fucking nuisance, but it’s good work. What’re you looking to get done?” 
“I think my back porch is all rotted out, nearly put my foot through a plank the other day. Do you have any idea how much it would cost to redo the whole thing?” 
“I’d have to come take a look, but I could redo it for you, no problem.” He has already decided how much it will cost. Nothing, not for her, though he knows if he told her that now she’d scoff and get someone else to do it who would accept payment. He’ll save that fact for after it’s finished. 
“Alright, is there a number I can call to schedule an appointment?” Oh, oh, he’s not stupid enough to let this opportunity pass him by.
“Why don’t I, uh, give you my number? It’ll be easier that way.” He knows she knows what he’s doing, her lips pursing for a moment as if to consider it, but she still slides her phone out of her back pocket and hands it over to him. He has to think really hard about what his phone number is, typing it in with a small tremor in his hand that only gets worse when he gives her phone back to her with a barely there brush of their fingers. 
“Can I ask you something?”
“Maybe, what’s the question?” 
“Why’d you come back? I don’t know where you’ve been, Cher, but I can tell you that I never expected you to come back here.” Shit, he shouldn’t have asked that, because she’s not looking at him again, her chin tucking down as her mouth settles in a thin grimace.
“Honestly? I don’t know. We were in Chicago for the longest time, and then New York while I was working on my last two books. And it was great while it was great, you know? But it was just too much after a while, too much for Ellie, and too much for me.” He ducks his head down, trying to catch her gaze now that her sunglasses are pushed back up into her hair.
“So you made it to New York, huh?” That gets him a grin, her eyes crinkling up under her lashes at him.
“Yeah, the big leagues and all that shit.”
“How was it?”
“Lonely. I think I would have lost my mind if I didn’t have Ellie.” His heart twinges and then swells in his chest because he hates to hear that, and is also relieved to hear that, and then he hates himself for being relieved to hear that. That there wasn’t anyone else. 
“For what it’s worth, Cherry, I’m real glad to see you back here again.” No, that didn’t come out quite right, and he has to stop himself from physically wincing when she gives him a furrowed look in response. 
“I find that a little hard to believe, Joel.”
“Why?”
“Well, we didn’t exactly part on the best of terms, did we?” He feels a long sigh leave his lungs, and she’s already hopping out of the trunk and brushing her hands down the front of her shorts as if to shake the conversation off.
“I am sorry, Cher, I–”
“Don’t, Joel. Don’t do that.” She shakes her head hard at him, eyes fierce for a moment before she slips her sunglasses back into place. 
“Well I am.” 
“Well I don’t want you to be. There’s no need for it when that was such a long time ago.” He wants to say something else, anything, but the tightness in his throat keeps the words stuck and simmering somewhere in his chest. She doesn’t look at him again, murmuring something about the game ending and wanting to help Ellie pack up, and all he can do is dumbly agree, shutting the trunk of her car and walking back toward the field a few paces behind her. Always a few paces behind her, it seems. 
Joel was full of shit. Something about fixing her car as soon as he could, something about it not taking too long. Yeah, bullshit. She has been sitting in the front office of the auto shop for the last three hours, trying and failing to get some writing done in her notebook amidst the seemingly ceaseless sounds of whirring drills, clanking and crashing metal, and the men in the garage cursing and carrying on amongst themselves. Though some of the sound has died down now that it’s just Joel working, the other men all clocking out at five o’clock. Meanwhile, he hasn’t even gotten to her car yet.
Everytime she glances into the garage, his legs are still sticking out from under a cream-colored mustang. When he does finally pop out from underneath the car, her hopes of getting out of the place soon are quickly dashed as someone pulls up to the gas pumps out front. She knows that car, a convertible in an obnoxious shade of turquoise that could only mean Maureen Henderson. Her daddy got her that car for her sixteenth birthday and she never stopped thinking she was hot shit for it ever since. 
She gets up from her cracked vinyl chair in the office to stand at the windows, trying to get a better look at their interaction. Joel is in fine form, of course, leaning down close over the driver’s side door, all grins, all popping gum with his jaw as Maureen rests a perfectly french-tipped set of fingers on his bicep. He must say something really funny for her to toss her head back like that, her teased-out hair bouncing with her tittering laugh. Joel slips around the front of the car, and, really, she thinks, is it so necessary for him to pump Maureen’s gas for her? Can Maureen really not just pump her own gas like a normal person? All a bit outdated, if you ask her. Though Maureen seems perfectly pleased with the whole production, leaning across the passenger’s side and slipping a few folded up bills into the back pocket of Joel’s coveralls while he’s turned away to set the pump back in its holster. How nauseatingly sweet of Maureen, who’s rewarded with another grin and something that must be really fucking funny for her to laugh so loud before she peels away from the shop with one more waggle of her fingers at him. Joel, meanwhile, seems in no hurry to get back to work as he moseys back into the garage, counting the bills that Maureen just tucked into his pocket with a stupid smirk on his face. Yeah, she’s seen quite enough.
“Hey, so I’m just wondering, when you said this wasn’t going to take too long, did you know that you were full of shit? Or is Maureen just that distracting?” Her eyes nearly water when she steps into the garage from the smell of motor oil and burnt rubber, though she’s a little too pissed to worry about that as she walks over to where Joel is rummaging through a tool box next to the mustang. 
“Aw, Cherry, don’t tell me you're jealous of little old Maureen.” She would like to smack his smile clean off his face, the only thing stopping her being the fact that she still needs him to fix her car. 
“I’m not jealous, Joel. I have been sitting in that office all afternoon watching you do everything except fix my car and I would like to go home now.” 
“So you’ve been watching me, huh?” 
“Christ, you really are relentless, aren’t you?” She honestly can’t believe he’s already bounced back to his incessant teasing after their little blow up in his truck, poking his tongue into the side of his cheek and squinting at her as she huffs at him.
“Alright, Cher, you’ve waited long enough. I’ll take a look.” She follows close on his heels as he sidles over to her car, popping the hood and ducking his head under to look at the engine.
“Well?” Though she has no clue what he’s looking at, she still leans over the engine next to him, searching his face for any answers.
“Hmm, oh, here’s your problem.” He twists what looks like a loose knob down into the engine, shocking her with how quickly he stands back up with a satisfied smirk on his face. 
“That– that’s it?”
“Yep, loose spark plug.”
“And you couldn’t have fixed that earlier on the side of the road?”
“No, I could have, but then you wouldn’t have come and kept me company with your death glare all afternoon.” He can barely get his words out around a laugh. But she is decidedly not laughing. It’s completely impulsive, and maybe childish, but it feels good to shove the flat of both her palms into his chest, making him stumble back against the side of the mustang parked next to her car. And since it felt so good the first time, she decides to do it again, this time with enough force for his laughs to die out with a grunted oof. 
“You’re an ass, do you know that? A huge– fucking– ass–” Each word gets punctuated with another shove, though on the last one Joel wraps his hand around her wrists, collecting them both in a tight hold and only pulling her closer against his chest when she tries to yank away from him. 
“Let go, Joel.” Their faces are so close to each other’s that she can smell the cinnamon on his breath from that Big Red gum he likes to chew, can even see the freckle tucked between his lashes underneath his right eye, the same freckle that’s been there since they were kids. 
“No.”
“No?”
“No, I’m not gonna let go.” 
“You’re a fucking child.”
“That the best you got, Cherry baby?”
“Do not call me that.”
“Or else what?” A beat, a blink, a moment for her heart to sink into her stomach and shoot straight up into her throat when they both lurch into the space between them. There’s nothing nice about the first one, in fact, it hurts a little with how hard they both press into it, her nose mashing up against his as their teeth scrape and clash with each other. They kiss ugly. They kiss angry. Both of them too stubborn to let the other one get away with anything, the moment he licks into her mouth, she tangles her fingers in the back of his hair and tugs hard, swallowing down the grunt that looses from his throat. Though her upper hand is short-lived when Joel drops both his palms down to her ass and squeezes hard, her whole body jolting in his hold and pressing closer to him. He’s probably getting grease all over her clothes, but she’s not too concerned with that as she keeps drawing low little groans out of him every time she swipes her tongue against his. 
“Wait, Cher– shit, wait– I can’t– I don’t–” She finally pulls back when he keeps mumbling, and suddenly the reality of the situation comes plummeting down on her, starting to panic when it seems like Joel has decided this was all a big mistake.
“What, what is it?”
“I want to do this right with you– your– you should have a nice first time and–”
“Wait, what?” Joel’s eyes get wide and round, his hands dropping down by his sides from where they had been holding her hips when she takes a step back from him.
“Well, I, uh– you– you’re–”
“Joel, have you just assumed that I’m a virgin?” He winces at the word like it’s a curse, and she finally has to laugh at how ridiculous this is. 
“Does that mean you’re not?”
“Just shut up, Joel.” With that, she reaches forward for his waist where the sleeves of his coveralls are tied, making quick work of the knot and rucking his pants the rest of the way down as she kneels in front of him. She tucks her fingers into the band of his boxers, unable to help her grin when she feels his stomach tense against her knuckles.
“Can I?”
“Fuck, yeah, yes– you can do whatever you want, Cherry.” She likes him like this, with his throat bobbing and a crack in his voice pitching his words up an octave, his eyes wide and watching as she tugs his boxers down. And oh, she likes him like this too. Pretty boy who’s certainly pretty all over. The narrow tanness of his hips tapers into a dark thatch of curls, and well, there’s no two ways about it, he’s big, already hard, the tip flushed a perfect pink. Only a little intimidating, but judging by the sound he makes when she suckles the head of him into her mouth, she has it under control. 
“Oh my god– fuck, okay, fuck– you– you’re good at that– Jesus.” There’s a bit too much of him to take it all into her mouth, though she does her best to bob her head down his length, her hand wrapping around what she can’t quite reach as she laps at the vein running along the underside of his cock. A fleeting thought in the back of her mind, this was not how she imagined her day going, not in any universe. But something has snapped, something that cannot be stitched back together. And now, all she feels is an aching want, pulling taut in her stomach, pulling her to him. Want, want, want. She’s never wanted something so bad in her life, she thinks. Not very ladylike to want like this, to gag with it, to dribble spit around it, to see how much more she can take just to coax another broken moan out of his chest, her palms splayed out on his hips to keep him pinned still beneath all her want. But what she didn’t consider is that he wants it just as bad and big as she does, hooking his hand around the back of her neck to pull her off of him and hoist her onto her feet, chasing after the taste of himself on her tongue as he turns them around to press her up against the side of the car. 
“That was gonna be over too fucking soon if I let you keep doing that.” His hands get a little greedy, a little desperate, fumbling to get her t-shirt off before tugging her bra up and overhead without even unclasping it, ducking his head down to let his teeth scrape and nip at the newly exposed skin. He pauses only for a moment, pulling back, his parted lips shiny and blushing and his eyes heavy as he takes her in. She can’t help but drag her hand back through his hair, something tight settling in her chest when he absent-mindedly nudges his cheek closer into the cup of her palm. 
“You’re something else, Cherry.” She doesn’t have any time to ask him just what he means by that, his lips already finding hers again, a small gasp in the back of her throat at the feeling of her nipples dragging against the fabric of his wife beater. And then it’s an awkward, slow shuffle, given that his coveralls and boxers are still pooled and pulled around his ankles, around to the front of the car, his hands finding the backs of her thighs to coax her up and onto the hood. From there his palms start to wander, one coming to cup the side of her neck before slipping down to her breast, the boyish squeeze he leaves there making her laugh, though the sound dies fast when his other hand rests heavy at the waistband of her shorts, thumbing at the button. 
“Can I touch you, Cher?” It’s entirely too earnest, the way he’s looking at her from beneath the thick fan of his lashes, a small crease between his brows. And she’s a little afraid of how her want might skitter up her throat, so instead of saying anything, she simply pulls him in by the nape of his neck for another kiss as her other hand bats his away to undo her shorts. Mercifully, it’s enough of an answer for Joel, his hand replacing hers and dipping down beneath the fabric of her panties, the broadness of his palm cupping her cunt and grinding up into her heat in a way that makes her gasp against his mouth. 
Annoyingly, he’s halfway decent at it, swiping his fingers through her cunt in a harsh rub, though she tenses up when he tries to immediately dip two of his thick fingers into her clenching entrance. 
“Jesus Christ, warm me up a little first, why don’t you?” He looks genuinely perplexed by her exclamation, his hand stilling beneath the fabric of her panties as his brow crumples in reaction. 
“What did I do wrong?” She tugs lightly at the hair at his nape, a light laugh leaving her lips when he lets out a huff like an impatient boy.
“You’re a bit harsh, Joel.”
“Well, I’ve never had any complaints before.” Said with a roll of his eyes and his hand still down her pants so really, she has a hard time taking him seriously. 
“Well, I’m complaining. Just– gentler, here.” She clasps her fingers around his wrist to pull his hand away, giving her room to shimmy her shorts and panties further down over the curve of her ass, the way Joel’s eyes instantly fall to where her legs have now splayed open a bit wider not getting lost on her. She fits her palm to the back of his hand, guiding it back to her cunt, her fingers pressing against the backs of his to direct a firm, swirling pressure to her clit. Her head tilts back on her neck as the pleasure settles over her slow and smooth, continuing to guide Joel’s hand with her own. 
“Just like that, s’perfect.” 
“Like that?” He says it so quietly, so uncharacteristically small that her attention snaps back onto him. His eyes are glued to where her hand is still moving his, lips parted, a look that borders on wonder and clear concentration, and suddenly, she can’t take her own gaze away from the sight, her head tilting on her shoulder as her hand falls away from his to let him do it on his own. 
“Yeah, Joel, feels really good like that. You can– you can add a finger now.” When he does, much slower, much softer, her eyes scrunch shut with a small curse and a sigh, and she finds herself leaning back on her elbows over the hood of the car, her whole body splayed out before him. Joel follows her slow fall, keeping a steady rhythm with his hand as he curls over her, his mouth resting hot and open between her breasts before he tilts his head to the side to take the peak of one of her nipples into his mouth. 
“That feel good, Cher?” 
“Yes, keep doing that, please. I– I’m gonna get there just like this.” Miracle, he listens, only adding another finger when she asks him for it, fucking her with his hand just how she wants him to. Miracle, she can’t tear her eyes away from his, the way he seems to be watching her face for every tell, every sigh and every fall. And miracle, she comes undone for him slowly, a cry catching in her throat when it finally hits her, the easiest unraveling. He only stops when she whines for him to, tugging his hand away and pulling him down for a kiss that’s more just two open mouths laying over each other than anything else. 
“Can we? Do you want to?”
“Yes, I want to.”
“Condom?”
“Birth control.”
“Gotta love women’s lib.” 
“Just don’t tell my mom.”
“Please don’t talk about your mom right now, Cher.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay, just come here.” He struggles a bit to tug her shorts and panties off of her feet, the fabric getting caught on her sneakers, though when he’s finally successful it’s the easiest thing for his hips to slot with hers, his hands curling around the backs of her knees to hitch her legs around his waist. Her arms settle loosely around his shoulders, laying back and bringing him with her as he presses his cock against her swollen cunt. A quick snarl of pain that pleasure snaps and smacks after when drives into her with one languid stroke, both of them letting out stuttered sighs when his hips press against hers. All of that want flickering up and down her spine as he starts to fuck into her, spreading her open again and again. 
“S’a fucking dream, you’re a fucking dream.” She almost wants to laugh at the breathless murmuring of his words, because truthfully she doesn’t think anything has ever felt this real. Her body fitting around his, the way her heart is threatening to beat a break in her ribs, the way her nails can drag down the sliding wings of his shoulder blades, and the incessant, aching heat of him throbbing so deep inside her that she thinks she’ll still feel that hurt tomorrow. She hopes that she will. 
“Joel, look at me, please.” She has to tug on his hair to coax his face out of the hollow of her throat and suddenly that want is dangerous. Looking into the crumpled pleasure painted across his face, watery eyes and slack jaw, and that want becomes dangerous because that want becomes something more. 
She can feel her slick dripping down her thighs, the sound of skin meeting skin mixing with the obscene slip of it, only a fleeting worry about making a mess of the car, though that flits away when Joel drags his fingers back over her clit a little harder, a little greedier.
“Just want one more, Cher, please.” She likes please on his tongue. Please pushes her right over the edge. A little harder this time, a little more ragged, furling up tight and taut around him before everything melts down with a whine of his name. He’s still saying please like a prayer when he comes, and all she can do is sigh with the warmth spreading inside of her. Inhale, exhale, her ribs expanding as his contract, a careful, quiet dance as they both come down, still pressed close, lips suggesting grazes. 
“Do you, uh, want to come up to my apartment?” Want says yes, a whisper her ears prick to under the obvious shout of no. Want says yes, over and over.
“Yeah, okay.”
....................................
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noosayog · 1 year
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[Not just Nostalgia] ft. Miya Atsumu
wc: 2.3K
contents/warnings: exes to lovers
noos's notes: I love exes to lovers but I feel like I really didn't do it justice here :( i'm not the biggest fan of this but I spent so long writing this, I wanted to share. I hope at least y'all enjoy it :)
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Often, when you return to your hometown in Hyogo, you can’t help but be swept up in nostalgia. It happens when you walk by the convenience store and remember eating popsicles with your classmates. It happens when you pass by the rolling green hills and remember riding your bike along the cherry blossom lined path. It happens when you pass by your high school and remember all the memories you made there. Somehow though, there aren’t any memories that outshadow the moments you shared with your then-boyfriend. You remember helping him bleach his brassy blond hair, sitting in the stands long after school to wait for his practice to end, and tutoring him despite your being one year younger than him. 
But nostalgia is just that and you know better than to let yourself be swept away by sentimentality. You know better than to let yourself forget the reason why you had to leave. Being back here for the summer is a risk, but surely you can’t spend the rest of your life avoiding your home, whether that be a home of rose-tinted memories or bitter heartbreak. 
– 
Your hometown is a small one and running into Atsumu is hardly an improbable outcome. It happens a bit sooner than you’re expecting, but it’s been over a year now and you have to muster up some courage. The only thing more pathetic than still moping about the break up is being the ex-girlfriend who can’t move on from the man who broke up with her. 
When you see each other, Atsumu doesn’t hesitate. There’s no prolonged staring match and no awkward silence. In fact, Atsumu seems to have completely forgotten what happened the last time you saw each other because he greets you with an unreserved hug and an excited “It’s so good to see you again!” 
You can’t deny the fact that it hurts that this is so easy for him, but you’d rather it be like this than the estranged limbo of being exes. Being with him, even in this capacity brings you back to high school and you’re swept along in his pace all over again. 
You never stopped, really. 
He asks about your family and reminisces about how much your mom used to love him. In the same breath, he invites himself over because he wants to see how she’s doing. In spite of his easy demeanor, you notice the slight flicker in his gaze, endearingly worried that he might be overstepping his bounds. Your longing for him returns in full force when he looks at you with those straightforward eyes, mixed with sweet caution. Like he still cares that he might be making you uncomfortable. 
So what’s a girl to do but let the object of her affection bulldoze through her plans to remember why she keeps the door to her heart tightly shut? 
“Hi, ma’am,” he grins at your mother when he walks through the doors. 
Your mom looks up from where she’s chopping garlic and welcomes Atsumu with a curt hello. Considering she’s ignored every friend who has ever visited, she’s making it pretty clear who her favorite ex of yours is. Turning back to her garlic, she commands you, “go take your boyfriend to the living room.” 
She still doesn’t like him enough to remember his name and you find comfort in that at least. 
“He’s not my boyfriend anymore, mom.” You remind her often when she asks about your blond, tall boyfriend. 
“Oh. He’s not?” she shrugs. “Well, go get him some tea.” 
“Yes, mom.”
Atsumu smirks when you meet him in the living room with tea. “She thinks we’re still dating?” 
You roll your eyes. “Don’t let it get to your head. She just doesn’t care enough to remember our history.” 
He wiggles his brows, “our history?” 
Insufferable. 
He keeps this up all night. Your mother, impossible to charm, continues to throw blunt remarks at him over dinner, but he lets them glide over his head. He even makes your mom laugh. 
It’s because he’s like this that you can’t let him go completely. He makes it too easy to imagine what could have been. 
For Atsumu, seeing you again was an out of body experience. He barely remembers the moment he said goodbye to you at his graduation ceremony with the flimsy excuse of wanting to focus on going pro. But he does vividly remember the day he came home a year later, only to find that you had left town the day you graduated. And despite his love for the sport, not even he could spend every waking hour playing. The hours that weren’t preoccupied by practice were spent thinking of you. Turns out, he proved himself wrong. Apparently, he really could balance going pro and being with you, because even though he didn’t have you anymore, you still owned the other half. 
Shameless as he is, he could not bring himself to pester your friends or your mom to find out where you had gone. It was the least he could do for you. For you. At least that’s what he tells himself.
Then he runs into you at the supermarket. He sees you first, lugging a basket around and looking perfectly fine while he’s in complete shambles. He follows you around for a good 5 minutes, never mind how creepy that is, practicing conversations in his head. It pays off when he weasels his way into your house, then all the more when he feels a flare of pride in knowing that he’s the one your mother remembers.
The remaining semblance of his composure comes crashing down when Kageyama, whom Atsumu has always found pleasure in competing against, shows up without warning. 
It’s a pleasant surprise, really, when he happens to see Kageyama in front of a vending machine with his signature scowl. Atsumu calls out in his jolly, pleasant facade, but Kageyama skips over Atsumu in favor of greeting you.
You smile. “What are you doing here, Tobio? You should’ve told me!” 
“You know each other?” 
You both turn your attention to Atsumu. 
“Yeah,” Kageyama nods. 
“We live in the same building in Tokyo,” you supply. 
“Oh.” 
Atsumu has read enough shoujo manga to imagine the worst. 
It’s no longer imagination when he hears you tell Tobio to swing by to see your mom. He watches Kageyama nod and then make this exit without fuss. The whole interaction leaves Atsumu confused and uneasy. 
You think the universe must be playing jokes on you when you come home and find Atsumu at your front door. You’re not sure if this is some sort of torture or Atsumu really just wants to be friends again. You sigh and let him in, walking past your mom in the kitchen again. 
“Oh?” your mom begins. “Here again?” 
He grins, all charm. “Couldn’t stay away for long, ma’am. Your cooking is too good.” 
She harrumphs. “I know you’re here for my child.” 
Atsumu laughs, but she’s already back to cleaning the vegetables in the sink. 
Atsumu’s halfway to the living room and you’re preparing the tea when she abruptly stops chopping and whips her head up towards you. “What about the other boy?” 
Atsumu freezes.
“What other boy, mom?” 
“The black hair one. Doesn’t talk, only nods.”
You ignore her and she just goes back to chopping vegetables. It was just a passing thought for her, but you can only hope Atsumu didn’t hear. 
“Doesn’t talk, only nods.” Atsumu hears your mom say. 
He freezes in the hallway, hoping to hear any elaboration you or your mother has. You say nothing though, and meet his eyes as you round the corner. He hopes you’ll explain but you don’t say anything and brush past him to the living room. He feels a hot flash of anger; doesn’t he at least deserve an explanation? 
But it cools quickly when he reminds himself that he does not. He does not deserve an explanation or anything from you for that matter. He’s just an ex-boyfriend. 
Atsumu used to tell himself that if you ever found someone else, they wouldn’t compare to him. What could that anyone have that he doesn’t? He’s tall, an olympian athlete, close with your mother, the list goes on.
He never thought it would be this easy for you to find someone who meets all of those requirements just as easily. Except, Kageyama had a leg up in that he didn’t break up with you because he wants to focus on his career.
Irrational, boiling hot, searingly stinging jealousy floods his gut. God, Atsumu has never been more aware of his decision to break up with you, that he somehow conjured up the thought that he couldn’t handle going pro after high school and maintaining his relationship with you. He has had moments like this, regretting his decisions and missing you to like crazy. Seeing you back here in Hyogo, he had tricked himself into thinking everything would be the same after all the time that has passed. Yet, in your time apart, maybe you have moved on and someone else has presented themself as the better option.
That was time he had practically gifted to someone else. 
He wishes so badly he could yell out that he isn’t satisfied with the way things are. 
I don’t want to be just an ex. I’m not just an ex. I can’t just be an ex.
It’s sometime after dinner, your mom urging you to at least walk “boyfriend one” to the door, when Atsumu finally asks.
“Am I just an ex to you?” 
You open your mouth to answer but Atsumu barrels on. Not because he has more to say, but because he can’t stand to hear your answer.
“Actually, no. Don't answer that. I can't just be an ex to you. I can't just be your ex.” 
You’re silent. 
“What-” do I have to do to make you choose me again. 
“How-” can I make you fall in love with me again? You were in love with me once. Why can’t you do it again? 
“Why-” him? 
Miserable, he blinks up at the sky, eyes heavy. 
“You were in love with me once, why can't you do it again?” he whispers.
Either you don’t hear any of his questions, or you choose to ignore them, but you do say, “Tobio and I went on one date in Tokyo.” 
Atsumu keeps his eyes averted. It’s the explanation he asked for but not the one he wanted. 
“And that was it. We’re just friends now. He ended up needing to visit Hyogo once and he came over for dinner as a friend. That’s when he met my mom.” 
“Then why does she remember him?” still trying to keep up some semblance of nonchalance, when he feels anything but. 
“She just likes tall men. You know that, Atsumu.” 
He doesn’t like the implication that he’s only a favorite because he’s tall. In that case, any one of his teammates except for Shoyo has him beat there. 
“What about you,” he whispers, fists clenched. 
“What?” 
Atsumu takes a deep breath. He needs to make a decision here. Is he going to lay it all out for you here or is it finally time to let you go for good? Would you even give him a chance after all this time? 
The decision is easy, selfish even, to make. 
“What about you,” he says, voice shaking, eyes watering, but he doesn’t hide it from you anymore. 
“Atsumu… what about me?” you ask, not understanding. 
“What about how you feel about me? Right now?”
Atsumu watches your expression shutter, exactly like how it did when he broke up with you. 
“Because,” he rushes out. “Because I’ve never stopped loving you. I made such a big mistake when I made the selfish, one-sided decision to leave you with that stupid excuse. If anything, with the amount of time I spent missing you, that proves that I can do both. 
“And I know it’s incredibly selfish of me to do this now. To want you to come back after all I did and how long I waited to tell you all this, but if there’s even a chance…” 
He’s practically giving a soliloquy now, so he doesn’t notice that you’ve stepped into his space until you’re grasping him by the forearms. 
He cuts himself off with a deep inhale when he feels your warm touch. You bore into his eyes, staying silent. He calls your name in reverent whisper. 
“Atsumu, do you know how much you hurt me?” 
He nods. 
“Do you really regret it that much?” 
He nods. 
“Then why didn’t you come to see me?” 
“I-” he has a number of excuses. He could say that he didn’t know where you went. That he wanted to give you your space. But he was just scared this whole time. Scared of what he’d find when he found you and it was only luck that he ran into you at the grocery store. He tells you the truth. 
You ponder this for a bit, eyes wide but unreadable. 
“Do you know why you’re my mom’s favorite?” you ask after a while.
“Because I’m tall?” 
You laugh, your hands that were still holding onto his arms sliding down to slip into his palms. Atsumu’s mind isn’t keeping up here, because surely this doesn’t mean that you- 
“Tobio’s tall too,” you respond. The suspense is killing him. 
“You’re her favorite because she’s my mom and she knows me. Atsumu, if I didn’t still love you, you would’ve never stepped foot in my house again.” 
His wheels are still spinning when he feels your thumbs brushing the tears in his eyes away. You smile, and it’s the same smile he remembers. You know you’re both thinking the same thing when your eyes finally meet. It’s definitely not just nostalgia, the way fireworks explode when your lips meet after all this time.
1K notes · View notes
thinkingaboutjaedyn · 2 months
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stupid lil headcanons about mapi
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author notes: i'm pushing out more of these dumb posts than fics but i swear fics are coming 🙏🏾 just let my mind work it's magic y'all. anyways stupid headcanons about mapi that hold no value, enjoy!
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➜ mapi probably asks ingrid to talk to the waitress when she receives the wrong order. it's not really that she's scared to say something, it's just mapi doesn't want to say anything herself
➜ she probably sends ingrid stupid memes in spanish about the most irrelevant things that ingrid is always like "wtf? where did you get these from?" (she got them from twitter)
➜ doesn't care for tiktok that much but sometimes someone sends her an edit off of that app and she giggles
➜ this woman be low-key confused when the barca coach talks about the team's game plan. afterwards she always asks alexia to explain to her in simple terms
➜ we all know she had that emo phase. during that phase she still listened to a lot of spanish music (she couldn't get with the actual emo music) and used tumblr like it was god sent
➜ mapi be giggling and kicking her legs while stalking ingrid's instagram during international break. she has like a thousand photos of ingrid in her gallery, but the instagram posts just hit different
➜ double texts everything. never writes in paragraphs and she probably have many typos in her texts because she be typing at the speed of light
➜ mapi's favorite type of kisses are cheek kisses because she finds them really cute
➜ if the word clingy had a picture in the dictionary, mapi would be the photo. this woman is attached to ingrid so bad and just likes hanging off of her. half of the time she just annoys ingrid but refuses to move away when her when ingrid tells her off
➜ clumsy at the worse moments. could be holding a plate full of food and mapi is going to slip on thin air
➜ likes piggy back rides especially from ingrid
➜ mapi is the biggest cryer when it comes to movies. it could be the happiest movie ever but let one sad thing happen and she's bawling
➜ begs ingrid to do her hair in silly lil hairstyles and always talks cute selfies after
➜ a cuddle bug. not just with ingrid but also her cat
➜ mapi shall not be trusted with knives or any sharp objects, she always end up cutting herself. ingrid has to comfort her afterwards
➜ is so annoying to play against in a fifa game. she will do anything in her power to make you lose (pushing, saying the most out of pocket stuff, screaming at the top of her lungs, anything to her opponent to lose the game)
➜ dyes her hair when stressed (but don't tell anybody that)
➜ either a fun drunk or a sad drunk. depends on the day and if ingrid is around
➜ she randomly flexes in front of ingrid to try to impress her (ingrid doesn't give a fuck but gives many compliments)
➜ speaking of impressing ingrid, this woman will stop a car with her bare hands just to have ingrid give her a compliment. what can be said? #girlfriendvalidationisthebest
➜ 100% is a pouter, a whiner, a "but babeee:("
➜ the type to get a tattoo for her girlfriend and not even tell anyone until someone just notices
➜ mapi is surprisedly flexible, don't ask how she figured that out
➜ follows ingrid around like a lost puppy. she just loves her girl so bad
➜ her favorite season is summer and her favorite thing to do during summer is to go to the beach. for one, she loves to be in the water and for two, she gets to see ingrid in a bikini. a win is a win
➜ says the most random shit that pops up in her mind like "do you think dinosaurs are related to chickens? and if they are related to chickens then when someone eats chicken, are they eating dinosaur meat?" and ingrid would just be like "please just eat your food"
➜ not the best dancer in the world but no body can tell her that
➜ mapi sometimes just gets baby fever and pesters ingrid before forgetting about it then she sees a baby & the process happens all over again
➜ overall mapi is just so silly 😝
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© thinkingaboutjaedyn
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gravedigginbbydoll · 8 months
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The Wolves of Hawkins Wood
werewolf! Eddie x F! Reader
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AN: BuT ArEn'T YoU on A BrEaK? mind ur business okay, stfu. jk jk I love y'all. I'm currently just taking a break from Hawkins University AU, but recently got an itch to write this. This'll be a super short little series probably and may contain smut but will mainly be fluff and angst! It will not be updated regularly, but it's just a side project for funsies. Also I will make a masterlist for it later, i swear! It's based off of The Wolves of Mercy Falls (one of my favorite favorite series), and meant to just be kinda cozy but spooky themed bc werewolves? Anyways, I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: MDNI! possibly mature themes and smut in the future. Werewolves, injury, scars, animalistic violence, depression, identity struggles, near death experiences, trauma, love/ drawn to at first sight. MC is kinda a wolf girl? (i'm channeling and healing my childhood self, okay?)
Chapter One: Valruv
You had moved to Hawkins one winter, the bitter cold and snow new to you. The days consisted of you exploring the wilderness, the trees and snow all new to you. You took plenty of photographs, hoping your camera would capture the rawness of it all. You had wandered a bit too far one day, your foot slipping as you fell off a small ledge, spraining your ankle and breaking your arm. You shouted and groaned in pain, laying in the snow, skin going numb. You must’ve hit your head, the way your vision was going in and out. You felt your vision go black and your mind race. The next thing you knew, you woke up to yourself being dragged by the hood of your coat to the edge of your backyard and the forest. You panicked, trying to sit up slightly, feeling pain shoot up your arm. You winced, trying to turn your head instead. A large wolf with an almost light chocolate brown coat and warm brown eyes holding the hood of your jacket between gentle teeth, dragging you to the edge of the clearing. You felt your heart race but a sort of calmness washed over you. How did this wild creature know where you lived? The wolf soon bounded off, but not before staring at you with intelligent almost human eyes. 
You had received help after that, calling an ambulance with your good arm and letting your thoughts take over. You were helped and warned against being outside near the woods alone when the weather and conditions were not kind. You took the advice with a grain of salt, your mind still on those intelligent eyes. 
After that, you began to sit out on your deck every evening, watching for the wolf. You still couldn’t understand how it saved you or why. You would see the wolf and occasionally it’s pack every so often, a chill running down your spine and your heart picking up. Their howls pulled at your heart, the sound melodic and mournful. You felt drawn to them. You needed to know why.
Which led to you frequenting the bookstore, skimming shelves of nonfiction on wolves. You had so many questions. Why did the wolves here seemingly disappear in the spring and summer according to townsfolk? Why did that one save you? None of the books answered the questions. Not a single one. The weather was getting warmer and you still hadn’t found answers.
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You stood in the bookstore at the section you were at constantly, eyes skimming to try and find something new. You had no answers and just more questions. Hawkins itself was an odd town, what with the small population and ever present gossip, a persistent trend of individuals winding up missing. You found a slightly newer book, one with frayed backing and yellowed pages. You smiled at it, clearly happy you found something in the monotony of the usual visit. You walked up to the counter, rummaging through your bag and not looking up, placing the book on the counter. 
“Just this?” 
The low and unfamiliar timbre of the voice caused you to look up, your breath catching in your throat. A tall man with unruly brown curls stood before you, his eyes a warm brown. It seemed he was littered in tattoos and silver jewelry. He wore a worn out Megadeth shirt, the black faded to an almost gray. You looked up into his eyes, feeling your face heat up. His eyes…reminded you of the wolf. You also didn’t recognize the man, which was saying a lot as Hawkins was a small town. You nodded at the stranger, pulling out a twenty to pay him. You felt your mouth moving and heard the words come out before you could stop yourself. 
“Are you new here?” 
He rang you up and took the bill, blinking a bit in surprise at your question but then smiling a crooked grin, dimples appearing. 
“No, I just visit when the weather gets warm. My Uncle Wayne lives in town.” 
You nod, grabbing your book and heading off. Your mind still swimming with questions…but now a small piece was also consumed by the stranger.
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The next time you ran into the stranger, you were talking a walk along the edge of the wood, lost in thought. You were staring up at the trees, oblivious to your surroundings. You felt a shoulder bump yours and you flinched, turning to apologize. 
You saw his eyes first, the warm brown tone still causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stick up. You looked up at him in apology, voice soft. 
“Sorry, I was looking at the trees.” 
He chuckled, shaking his head. His unruly brown curls were now in a messy bun, making his eyes more visible. You smelled wood on him…bark, dirt, crisp air, sweet and almost over ripened fruit. Along with something musky and almost…animal-like. You wanted to inhale the scent. 
“It’s alright. They’re beautiful.” 
He stared unabashedly at you while saying it. You felt your stomach twist in nervousness and your heart leap as your face heated up slowly. You grinned and gave a pathetic excuse for needing to go, dashing off in the other direction to stamp down the feelings.
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The next time you saw the stranger was unexpected.
You were headed to the local bar in town, clearly tired from a long day at your 9 to 5, wishing you didn’t have to pay bills on top of your Photography gig. You opted to meet a cute coworker here, swayed by his charming smile. But truthfully, all you could do is worry about where the wolves had gone. Where your wolf had gone. You ordered an easy drink, something like a Rum and Coke, and sat at the bar in thought. You were pulled out of your daze when the stranger came out onto the bar's very pathetic excuse for a stage, a red electric guitar slung across his back. You watched as he and group of guys began setting up their instruments. 
You studied him openly, thankful that his back was facing you for the most part. His hair was up again in that messy tuft of curls. He wore a band t-shirt that had the sleeves cut off, his arms on full display. You could see now in the stage light the pretty ink decorating his skin and the chunks and patches of silvery pink flesh that were scars. He had a few on his arms and one on his shoulder. You couldn’t help but wonder what it was from, as they didn’t look like an average scar from a cut or falling off a bike. They also seemed like…chunks of flesh bitten out and scarred over.
You quickly turned to face your drink when he turned around, feeling embarrassed for your silly obsession. Just…something about him was so…intriguing.
The stranger seemed to walk up to the mic, tapping his finger on it before his cheerful and energetic voice came through the speakers. You kept yourself from turning around.
“Heyo, Hawkins! I’m Eddie, this is Gareth, Jeff, and Rich! We’re Corroded Coffin and-” 
Your eavesdropping (could you call it that if he was announcing his presence to the bar?) was cut short when your coworker, Tommy, showed up. He scrunched his nose in the direction of the stage before smiling down at you. 
“Lemme pay for your drink and we can head somewhere…quieter.” 
You nodded, Eddie and his band in the background, but you could clearly hear his melodic singing voice and his impressive guitar skills. You tried to ignore it.
Tommy paid for your drink, grabbing your hand and helping you off the chair, guiding you by the arm towards the door. You could somehow still feel those powerful brown eyes on you. 
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Winter was creeping in, winds crisp and the scent of fall fading. You mourned the loss of fall. The sidewalks no longer filled with the familiar crackle of fallen leaves, the scent of apples and fresh rain now replaced by icy sleet and the smell of smoky firewood. But at least it meant you could be provided some comfort by the wolves. 
You had recently started feeding them, leaving out little pieces of meat at the edge of the clearing, watching through the window as they would grab it and run off. You even got to feed your wolf, smiling as it ate the meat gently from your hand and you gently pet its scruff, the smell of the wild woods still in its fur. It was an intelligent animal, and you wanted a way to express your gratitude for the creature saving you. 
However, it seemed your efforts led to more damage than good.
The wolves seemed to be closer to town, and after the disappearance of Chrissy Cunningham and her fiance Jason Carver claiming she was dragged away and mauled by wolves, the town was issuing a hunt on the local pack. The mayor was clearly pressured by the townsfolk to carry it out. The mayor urged people to stay inside as they attempted to drive out the wolves. You felt your heart squeeze at the idea, seized by fear at the thought of never seeing your wolf again.
You stood on the edge of the clearing, hoping and praying maybe the mayor would give up. Maybe the young Chrissy had run away, disillusioned by her seemingly perfect life. In the midst of this tumbling string of thoughts, you spotted a familiar outline in the trees of a wolf, clearly unstable and stumbling. You walked over cautiously, seeing your wolf stumble out into the clearing near your house, the poor creature’s fur caked in blood. You saw the wolf stumble and you felt your heart seize. How could you help it? What would-
And then you saw the wolf lay and curl up, seeming to shake and whine as a muzzle shortened and fur peeled back, limbs lengthening. You stood there, heart pounding as you stared down at the creature- no, the human. 
There on the ground lay a naked and shivering Eddie, curls free and matted with blood, a pale hand pressed against his neck as his eyes rolled back and fluttered weakly. 
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strongheartneteyam · 8 months
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[ credits of the Neteyam pic go to cinetrix ]
Champagne Problems
Part 6
Pairing: Neteyam Sully x female!human!reader
CW: a lot of angst, tension between neteyam and reader, heartbroken neteyam, sexual tension, heartbroken reader, insecure neteyam, jealous reader, neteyam just won't leave reader's head, hurt/comfort (?), TRIGGER WARNING for some sensitive themes like reader showing signs of low self steem and not thinking she's worth it, friend group dynamic among reader, adeline and kate, kiri being sweet, reader misses neteyam and regrets dumping him, reader thinks she's protecting neteyam from hurt by staying away from him, spider makes an appearance, kiri being protective over neteyam's feelings, reader tells kiri she likes neteyam. Tell me if there's more, pls.
Here I come, finally updating this incredibly angsty fanfiction :') I hope y'all enjoy this. Writing this fic breaks my heart, guys… it feels raw, honestly. Maybe I'm just speaking like this bc I'm on my period + I'm listening to a sad Taylor Swift song but omg my heart aches rn
Not proofread. I'm sorry, babies, I'm dead rn. So freaking sleepy and finishing this at 5 am bc my mind just wouldn't let me sleep and kept forcing me to think about and write this chapter.
Part 5: The sand hurts my feelings
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It hits different 'cause it's you
I used to switch out these Kens, I'd just ghost
Rip the Band-Aid off and skip town like an asshole outlaw
Freedom felt like summer then on the coast
Now the sun burns my heart and the sand hurts my feelings
And I never don't cry at the bar
Yeah, my sadness is contagious
Hits Different (Taylor Swift)
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"Hey." Neteyam greeted you in a dry tone. He found it hard to look into your eyes so he just gazed rapidly into them and then kept his eyes on the ground.
His heart was broken, aching and his pride was shattered. Neteyam hated to see everybody around him looking at him with pity in their faces, knowing that he had been dumped by the girl he loved. He wondered if the boys - Lo'ak, Rotxo and Ao'nung - looked down on him now. Neteyam suddenly felt like he was not a good hypothetical mate. He had always thought he would make a good, reliable and loving mate to the girl he would one day choose to be his but you made him start doubting that after last night. He knew it was probably stupid but still he couldn't seem to get rid of those feelings.
You tried to hide your uneasiness but it was written all over your face.
"Hi." You answered Neteyam, your heart pounding in your chest, anxiety leaving your hands cold.
The pain you were causing Neteyam could be easily seen in the way his jaw clenched, in the way he weirdly looked insecure instead of confident as he always seemed to be. You wanted to say "I'm sorry", you wanted to say "Maybe I did the wrong thing when I refused to become your mate" but you had seen him with Munì. It was useless now, anyway.
Lo'ak looked at Neteyam, then back at you and then he would redo the whole thing all over again, like he was waiting for the both of you to exchange more words. Poor thing. He seemed even more tense than Neteyam and you.
"Rotxo, Ao'nung" Neteyam rapidly called, looking now at the Metkayina boys "Tonowari is waiting for us. Clan business." His voice was serious and seemed slightly annoyed, his face stern 
You wondered if Neteyam said "clan business" instead of giving more detail because you were sitting there too and he was mad at you. Well, you didn't blame him if that's how he felt. You deserved it. You could have been nicer to him this morning.
"Let's go!" Lo'ak spoke loudly, like he was trying to get out of that awkward situation as fast as he could
"Chill out, forest boy. We're going." Ao'nung teased and Rotxo laughed 
"I'm Metkayina now, fish lips. Stop calling me that." Lo'ak responded 
Frenemies indeed.
The boys left and your gaze was fixed on Neteyam's back as he walked away next to the other Metkayina. As you looked down at the beach floor, you wished that ache inside you would just vanish but life doesn't work that way.
When you looked up, you saw Tsireya's and Kiri's big feline eyes fixed on your face. It scared the crap out of you. They seemed even wider now.
"What?!" You sounded legitimately startled
"Neteyam told me and Lo'ak he was gonna ask you to be his mate at the party." Kiri stated
"And how the hell did every person in this tribe find out about that? Did he tell them too?" You didn't mean to sound rude but you really were overwhelmed by the situation
"It's just me, my brother and Rotxo. Only we know, other than Kiri and Lo'ak. My stupid brother overheard Kiri asking Neteyam how it had went, what answer you had given to Neteyam and he told Rotxo. I saw them laughing like idiots and asked what was so funny. That's when Ao'nung told me." Tsireya said, like she was sorry about the fact that so many people knew about yours and Neteyam's intimate business
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The day after that, you and the girls went back to Hell's Gate. You decided it was better to leave things the way they were. To let Neteyam have a nice, healthy and proper relationship with someone of his own kind. Like your father always used to say, na'vi and humans will never be equal. But he meant it in a derogatory way, with prejudice against the na'vi in his words while you meant something totally different. It was just natural that na'vi would marry other na'vi, not a human. The differences between both cultures did not just speak loud, they actually shouted like a mad person. You knew you could never get accustomed to being a na'vi male's mate. Not even if that male was Neteyam and just thinking about leaving him behind, thinking that you felt absolutely nothing for him, made you feel a burning, painful sensation in your heart. And of course Neteyam would be better off with an emotionally stable mate. Munì seemed perfect for him. 
You totally did not feel anger boiling inside your guts anytime you thought about her stupid smiles and giggles back when she was talking to him at the beach. She would make him happy and you were totally happy for them. The next step for you would be actually believing the words you just thought.
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One month and a few days had passed. You felt grateful that you had been able to dodge all the demands to go conduct scientific researches on the Metkayina tribe that you had received until now, asking to exchange positions with colleagues and staying in the lab, doing paperwork instead. You were doing everything in your power to avoid Neteyam. But you could never seem to be able to avoid the pain that washed over your body and the tears that wanted to come out - but never actually did because you were always strong enough to hold them back - whenever a sad love song started playing in your earbuds or in one of your friend's phones. It seemed like every fucking dumb love song reminded you of him.
After Kiri sent you a message almost begging you to go visit her, making you feel guilty and saying that she missed you a lot and now that she had her own marui, you just had to go to the reef and see it, you couldn't say "no". She was being too adorable and you missed her too. You asked Kiri if Kate and Adeline could come along and she excitedly agreed, so, the three of you used your next couple of days off to travel to the Metkayina beach again. It was a blessing that Neteyam had traveled to the Omatikaya tribe to see his grandmother Mo'at and was gonna be gone for a while, as Kiri had guaranteed you.
Kiri always had a very human side to her, just like Lo'ak. Neteyam didn't even seem like he was half human at times. He was extremely proud to be na'vi and wore his indigenous culture with honor all over himself. You could never see Neteyam asking to have his own place. He was too attached to his family - and you thought that was extremely cute. It wasn't traditional amongst the na'vi for an unmated young girl to leave her family's marui like that but Kiri was clever and she found a way to get what she wanted out of her parents.
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Adeline, Kate and you woke up as early as the Pandoran skies got clear and dragged your sleepy and tired asses to the Metkayina tribe. Being a scientist would never not leave a person overworked and exhausted. Like most mornings, you had drank way too much caffeine already for such an early hour in the day.
"Girl, how do you always look so beautiful? I could never." You pointed out as you watched Adeline make two thin braids to frame her round, delicate face and put her black curly hair in a voluminous bun on the top of her head, while the both of you were inside the science team's helicopter, heading to the Metkayina reef.
You had always found Adeline extremely pretty with her dark skin, voluptuous figure and feminine style. She always made sure to look cute.
"I don't know. I guess I'm God's favorite." She joked around and the both of you started to laugh
Adeline was also funny. She could put a smile in your face anytime, even when you were sad. You considered her a sister from another mother.
"You guys are stupid." Kate teased as she was laughing too and holding an energy drink filled with caffeine in her pale hand. She'd drink those often to help wake her up.
Kate's long, blonde, wavy hair fell gracefully over her chest. Her eyes were blue and she was tall and had an athletic but slim body. Damn, you only had breathtaking friends.
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Kate and Adeline had decided to take a nap after lunch in Kiri's marui and they asked if you would come too but you refused as you were far too restless to be able to sleep. That beach brought back too many memories…
So, now you found yourself sitting in the sand, watching the ocean waves break as they hit the shore with Kiri by your side. She had managed to make you say the truth about why you seemed so troubled.
"Yeah, (y/n), you fucked up big time." Kiri stated with that aura of wisdom beyond her years that only herself knew how to effortlessly exude.
You wanted to dig a hole in the sand under your feet and jump inside of it, hiding and never coming back up again. Of course you'd fuck it up with Neteyam. You had a cursed tendency to self sabotage. You did not know if being so freaking aware of it made you better or if it actually made you worse.
"Are you mad at me?" You ask nervously with furrowed eyebrows 
"(y/n)! It's not my feelings that you should be worried about! It's not my heart that you broke." Kiri scolded you as she looked at you with those big feline yellow eyes like she was actually horrified. You felt so bad for thinking it was kind of funny. "I know you don't wanna be Neteyam's mate but do you not care about him at all? Not even a little bit? He hasn't been the same ever since you dumped him and left. Poor thing can barely go train with dad. I think I saw him sniffing while hiding one of these days. Eywa knows that prideful teylu" (edible Pandoran bug) "would never cry in front of us."
"I swear I didn't mean to be cruel. I just did not know… how to react. It was sudden, you know? It's like, I don't know… a cultural shock? Humans don't go around asking people they just met to marry them. Or… become their mates." It would never feel normal to say "mates" to you
Apparently you had acted just like Kat Stratford in 10 Things I Hate About You, when she would cold heartedly refuse Patrick Verona over and over again. You used to always watch that vintage movie with Tracy. It was one of her favorites. 
"Don't act like it was the first time you two had met. Neteyam stared at you all the time when you came to our tribe. I swear to Eywa I've never seen him nervous to talk to a girl before but you have a power over my brother… it's fucking crazy to watch actually. He's like a needy, dumb dog drooling over you when he looks at you. It's even freaky." Kiri couldn't hold it back so she burst into laughter, hiding her mouth with her big but delicate hand
You were nervous as fuck but you started to laugh too. It seemed like the nervousness and guilt and tense vibe of the situation only made it worse, making everything even more funny and absurd.
"You know the worst part of it all?" You looked at her like a child who just broke their mom's most precious vase
"Great Mother, don't tell me there's more." Kiri said, incredulous
"I think I like Neteyam." You confessed like you were a good catholic girl confessing her sins to a priest
"You like him?!" She almost screamed
"You don't need to declare it out loud for the whole reef to hear!" You got slightly mad
"You teylu!" She smirked as she moved her head from side to side in disapproval "Why the hell did you dump him then?"
"I don't know, Kiri. Don't judge me, okay?" You put both your hands over your face, hiding it and moving your head from side to side yourself this time. 
At least you knew your attitude had been controversial and confusing to say the least. They say the first steps to recovery are realizing and admitting you're insane.
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It was now eclipse. You were inside Kiri's home with her and your human friends. Kate and Adeline were finishing unpacking their bags.
"Guys, I'm going out for some fresh air, okay?" You said, trying to find an excuse to get out of that marui filled with girls - human and na'vi.
"You've been acting weird lately." Adeline pointed out "Spending too much time alone."
Kiri discreetly looked at you with a look of concern in her face, as she was the only one of the girls who knew the reason behind your strange demeanor.
"I just need some air. I'll be back soon." You spoke as you walked towards the door of the marui
"Don't go in the ocean! It could be dangerous!" Kate yelled. She was the "mom friend" of the group.
"I know!" You laughed "I'm not stupid. I'm a scientist too. But thanks for your concern."
You walked through the beach for a while, trying to take a certain tall, handsome blue alien out of your mind when you saw Spider walking in the area too. He waved at you and you waved back.
You weren't as close to Spider as you were to Kiri and Lo'ak but you did love his company.
You sat on the sand with him, looking at the ocean, just like you had done with Kiri earlier and you two started to catch up and eventually the talk got deeper, more philosophical.
"Don't you feel crazy, Spider? Living among beings of another species? Don't you feel… left out?" Your eyes looked at him with genuine doubt in them
"I do, sometimes." He sighs "Especially because of how Mrs Sully acts towards me, at times" the both of you laughed quickly "But this place is my home. I was born in Pandora, I know nowhere else that I could call home. And also, I grew up around Lo'ak, Kiri, Neteyam and Tuk. They're family to me, even if not related by blood. It doesn't really matter in the end, family are the ones who are there for you. Not your bloodline." 
"Oh my God, I totally agree!" You rapidly say in a slight loud tone, chuckling, like you wanted to emphasize how much you shared the same opinion with him
"So..." You pondered if you should tell him or not "Neteyam talked to me last-"
"Yeah, I know. Ao'nung told me." Spider interrupted
"Of course he did..." You rolled your eyes and sighed. So everybody knew already...
Spider chuckled softly.
"Anyways, Neteyam calls me tawtute. I think it's funny that he calls me "human", but in na'vi"
"Yeah, that's him being affectionate towards you. He likes you. A lot." Spider pointed out
You stoped smiling and your heart started feeling painful.
"He probably hates me now, actually. I totally blew it off. I was really insensitive towards him." Shame and regret covered your face, as you were crestfallen
"Have you ever thought about apologizing?"
"Yeah, of course I have. Many times. I just…" You hesitated "I guess I can't face him now."
"Oh, c'mon. I know you can do it. Isn't it worse to be feeling guilty and sad and let Neteyam think you don't feel sorry for hurting him?"
"You have a point, Spider. God, I hate it when you're right." You laughed and slapped his arm softly, in a playful manner
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Adeline and Kate slept peacefully next to you, each one of them in a different mat - but the three mats had been placed next to the other. You, on the other hand, hadn't been able to sleep well in almost two months. Kiri told you and the girls she was gonna stay up and she now was, at the corner of the marui, making herself a new beaded necklace in the light of a tiny fire she had lit up.
As you laid quietly in your mat with your eyes closed but wide awake, you heard footsteps inside the marui. You could not believe it when you opened your eyes and you saw it was Neteyam. His tall, slender figure and head full of thin braids that danced in the air as he moved made you recognize him immediately, even in the dark of the eclipse.
Damn! Wasn't he supposed to be in the Omatikaya tribe right now? And what the hell was he even doing here instead of going to his parents' marui?
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Taglist:
@iman-lu
@leaveitbythewave
@creepytoes88
@live-laugh-neteyam
@swaggygurlbae
@neteluvr
@layla2-49
@a-blog-name-2003
@lala-1516
@jakesullyfatjuicypeen
@yeosxxx
@iaratezaewa
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