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plutolovesyou · 2 months

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10:15 Saturday Night

READ THIS FIRST! 🇵🇸

☆: this one-shot is based on this little imagine/idea thing y'all really liked! ellie coming into your bedroom after throwing rocks at your window, that famed rom-com trope. i love making titles from songs so here’s this one. linking it because i despise the way the audio embed thing looks, that shit’s so ugly- have nothing else to say except this was meant to be only fluffy, but i got a little carried away at the end (and sub!ellie turns me into a rabid raccoon so) 😇 smut is embarrassing af to write i better get over that lmao but anyway, hope you enjoy!

♧: 5k word count

◇: SMUT!! porn w/ plot, but it's sweet. lotsa fluff too, modern au, established relationship, reader feels gloomy in the beginning, mentions of unspecified argument, dorky ellie saves the day, mentions of being irritated at family, mututal teasing back n forth, ellie’s lowk annoying LMAO. kinda mean reader (but in a hot way), lazy/rushed intro bc i’m impatient. cuddling → starts out as top!ellie but oops! a dash of nipple play, a little fighting for dominance ending in sub!ellie & dom!reader, fingering (e! and r! receiving), oral (e! receiving), risky sex. she's a whimperer folks- lawd i needa ruin her….this is very self indulgent, in case you couldn’t tell. lmk if i forgot anything!)

Waiting for the telephone to ring, and I’m wondering where she's been. And I'm crying for yesterday, and the tap drips. Drip, drip, drip, drip….

Robert Smith’s vocals rang through the room as you spun around in your chair, round and round and round until you got dizzy, your brain being jostled around in your skull as if you were on a rollercoaster. Gaming chairs, powerful things they were. You were lost in thought, pondering the state of the world and your life, because you had nothing better to do other than wallow in your miseries.

Everything was going downhill, or that’s certainly what it felt like currently. You hated every single one of your responsibilities and life was generally not being kind to you. But most of all, you hated disagreeing with your girlfriend. Ellie could get a little feisty when things didn't go exactly her way, and you loved that fighter quality about her, but maybe not when it was used in your disagreements with her. This particular day her spunky attitude was getting on your nerves, and both of you had gotten a little irritated with each other.

You knew that neither one of you meant anything you said in the heat of the moment, you just had occasional squabbles like everyone else. However this time, today’s words hit you a little harder. Not to mention it was spring break and so for the time being you’d gone back home to spend time with your family. Ellie had done the same. You were very grateful the two of you grew up close to each other, only started your relationship years after initially meeting. You enjoyed reminiscing about the budding moments, adored looking back on the good ole days.

The source of today’s irritation could have been a myriad of things. Maybe you’d had another little fight with your family members, had a lot of assignments due after the break was over, and the weather was generally horribly ugly. Gray, cloudy skies, pouring rain, wind and chilly temperatures, everything was just going swimmingly. When all of that added up it was only natural for people to be a little on edge, and briefly forget the good moments life had to offer, wasn't it?

Picking up your phone, you stared at the sent message to Ellie, just a plain text asking what she’s up to. Even in moments of disagreements where you needed space to get yourself back on track, you would send her little messages as a way to show her, and reassure yourself, that it was only temporary and the two of you would talk it out amazingly and come out even stronger on the other side.

But now you’ve been left on delivered for hours, was she really that busy? Knowing her, it was likely. Her and Joel were probably out fishing or hiking or doing some other fun outdoorsy activity, while you were just left to rot within the confines of your childhood bedroom. Had she not ticked you off earlier you would have asked to come with. Waiting on an answer from her of any kind would only serve to frustrate you even more, so you put your phone away and collapsed into your warm, inviting bed, despite it being way too early to go to sleep. But you didn’t feel like doing much of anything else, so a little shut-eye wouldn’t hurt.

Within moments you were out like a light. Blissfully relaxing in dreamland, where you were frolicking amongst colorful flower fields and riding on the back of a unicorn into the sunset, dancing with fairies and twirling to your heart's content. Your family dog’s deafening barking was drowned out by you playing the harp with elves and floating endlessly into an abyss of turquoise waters. You were so deep in this wonderful dream, it was healing you in all the right ways you needed right now. Restoring every ounce of energy you lost, fighting against your inner saboteurs so efficiently. You’d simply stay there forever if you could. Until-

Plink, plink, plink. A small, repetitive sound persisted through your slumber, eventually waking you up. Startling awake and switching on your lamp, you stepped out of bed with a groan, stumbling over your steps and rubbing your eyes to get to the window to see what in the world could possibly be happening.

It was raining heavily, and seemed to be hours after you had initially fallen asleep. You squinted through the raindrops coating the pane of glass and down into your yard as an attempt to scout out the noise. Looking down through the blur, you were met with your loving, apologetic girlfriend, her form scurrying around your yard in the dark of night, scavenging your yard for something. Were those pebbles she was throwing at your window? How cliche.

It appeared as if she had found some, standing upright and rearing her arm back in preparation to fling it at the glass, until she saw you and waved. You didn't open the window just yet, and signaled to tell her to scram. What was she doing here at this hour, in this weather? You flapped your arms frantically in every direction, out towards every axis, resulting only in her pouting and shaking her head. You weren't going to get rid of her that easily.

Twisting and turning the knob to open the window with a creak, you lean outside in the drizzle and stage whisper down at her. “Ellie? It's like, I don't even know the time, but it's late. What the fuck are you doing?” The phrases thrown at each other during your earlier squabble flickered through your mind again, but you pushed them aside because the sight of your love always made your heart melt. And she was clearly up to something, so you were going to see it through to the end.

She shouts up at you, “Hey, I wanna say I'm sorry for earlier. I wanna make it up to you so-” She cuts herself off by bending into a kneel, setting down her bag on the wet grass and rummaging through it, pulling out her navy blue ukulele and clearing her throat. You feel yourself blush from the actions, might be from second hand embarrassment, might be because you're touched by the gesture. She begins.

“So, uh, I tried getting my guitar but it was too big to carry all the way here and I don't want it to get wet so, this'll do.” She strums it, gently swaying from side to side, and sings a scuffed rendition of A-ha's Take on Me, her voice shaking slightly and the cheap instrument being significantly out of tune. The rain and distant thunder was drowning her out, but watching patiently was more than fine. You stay at your window, listening to her serenade until the last few lyrics.

Not even realizing it, but once she finishes the performance, your heart is warmed and you're beaming at her. You truly loved her so much, and as much as you wished to, couldn't stay mad at her for any longer. And regardless, standing out in the rain getting soaked to the bone like that was her punishment, in a sense. The moonlight is dancing on her face in a way that makes her eyes twinkle as if they were plucked straight from the cosmos, and she's grinning widely at you. Enchanting as ever.

“Did it work? I love you!” She blows you a kiss, wipes her slicked down hair from her face and shudders violently. “It's really cold down here, can I come up? Please lemme in.” The slight nasally tone in her voice could make you do anything for her, damn, this girl didnt even know how much of a hold she had on you sometimes.

“Fine. Just one sec.” You closed the window on her to take a quick, silent stroll through the halls of your house to make sure every one of your family members was situated in their respective rooms, and unlikely to be disturbed by any ruckus. By the time you made your way back to your own room, Ellie had already perched herself in the big oak tree next to your house. She was crouched at the top of it, gripping onto a branch and peering inside your room, calmly waiting for you to return and so you could give her the “okay” to come in.

She startled you momentarily, looking like a bit of a creep staring into your house like that, but you laughed it off and opened the window fully for her. “Okay, here goes.” Ellie mumbles under her breath and inches forward closer to the edge of your roof. It wasn't a big gap, but there was a sure possibility of injury and it was a risk you didn't want her to take, but Ellie being Ellie, she was going to be reckless and do it anyway.

What if her foot slipped on the wet shingles and she went splat on the ground? Or broke every bone in her body with a crunch…? That wouldn't be pretty. Your stomach flipped with nerves and you grimaced, turning away. “Please don't die.” She didn't respond and instead only focused on completing the jump to your roof with a “hmf”. One step was done, you breathed a sigh of relief and opened one eye.

She was slowly making her way there with both arms outstretched, and as she had almost completed the journey, she tripped. You screeched quietly and turned away again, that was definitely helpful, but bracing yourself for the worst inevitably proved unnecessary when you heard her familiar raspy giggle. She caught herself just in time and was at the windowsill now, appearing winded from the effort and adrenaline.

“Heh, told you I'd be fine.” “Ellie don't scare me like that, just hurry up.” You helped her crawl inside your candle lit room by the arm, and once she was inside only then did you notice how drenched she was from the rain. Just sopping wet, dripping water all over your, thankfully, hardwood floors. The severity of the conditions outside only became even more apparent to you now, poor girl was about to turn into an icicle. It would be mean of you to leave her like this and let her catch a cold, she hasn’t wronged you quite that much. But a part of you was feeling a little playful, a little mischievous perhaps.

“Don't move, I'll find you something warm.” Before you can disappear inside your closet to find her some dry clothes she attacks you in a clumsy embrace, resulting in you being soaked now too. You try to pry her away and feel goosebumps come on as her cold lips connect with your neck, moist smacks as she smooches you all over.

“Let go, Els, c'mon you're gonna get me all wet too.” You lament to her, then regret your choice of words instantly as she pulls away to look at you, wiggle her eyebrows and smirk, to which she comments. “Damn right I am, that's m'goal.”

Whenever she pulls dirty jokes on you your immediate instinct is to burst into laughter, but you clap your hand over your mouth and hiss back at her. “Shhhh we gotta be really quiet, everyone's asleep. I don't feel like getting a talking-to at breakfast in the morning, y'know because ‘their house, their rules’.” You whisper the explanation to her as you roll your eyes and mock your family's words, adding air quotes as well.

Ellie gives you double thumbs up in response, solemnly swearing to not produce a peep. After rummaging through your drawers, you find a warm pajama set which matches yours and make her put it on while you sneak around to grab her a towel to dry off with too.

Moments later the two of you are cuddled up in your bed together, entangled in each other's arms, enjoying the quiet company. Just listening to the other’s steady intakes and exhales of oxygen, warm hands caressing over clothes stroking each other's hair, wanting to absorb into the other and assimilate into one being. What a shame that wasn't possible, you thought.

There wasn't too much of a need to discuss the disagreement in depth, because of the mutual understanding it wasn't anything serious, and ultimately the product of annoying circumstances, which was definitely a huge relief. Shit happens, and you were as glad ever to be entangled in her arms again, although it was worth mentioning in short anyway. You break the silence by whispering into her ear.

“You didn't have to come here Els.” You hear her let out a throaty chuckle, then squeeze your waist tighter. “I felt bad, I know you've been kinda under the weather recently. And wanna say sorry for being annoying earlier.” She murmured into the side of your neck, sending tingles on a path spreading throughout your whole body.

While the the two of you were cuddling in your room keeping conversation faint as can be, she had absent-mindedly began to roam her hands around your body, from the sides of your ribcage, to clutching your waist, to settling on your hips to play with the waistband of your fleece pajama pants. She was placing feather-light kisses on your neck simultaneously, and you found it hard to believe she didn't know what she was doing, but it was definitely working on you, and you frankly found it funny. She really did have a habit of being handsy. Your logical side was screaming how bad of an idea this was, but your horny side…

It was like the angel and devil sitting atop your shoulders, debating the pros and cons. You wondered who was going to win.

Teasingly whispering back to her, “Els, what do you think you’re doing?” Even through her hushed tone, you could hear the smirk dancing upon her pretty pink lips. “Nothin’ much, just feelin’ up my girl.” She finishes the statement with a firm squeeze to your boobs. Subtle. And just like that, the little devil was winning, you could hear their maniacal cackles metaphorically in your mind.

“Ellie, my fuckin’ parents are asleep in the next room over, do you know how thin these stupid walls are?” “So?” “So??? Do you want me to die knowing they were woken up by their adult, straight-A, accomplished, child sneaking in her girlfriend in the middle of the night, like we’re teenage hooligans in a movie or something?”

You'd put Pinocchio to shame by lying like this, knowing full well having her cuddled up close to you, feeling her strong hands sensually explore every curve and valley on your body, and her wearing some of your favorite pajamas was slowly but surely getting you all worked up. All that in tandem with the risk factor was turning you on much more than you'd care to admit. Unpack that another day. Your face was burning and your heart rate was increasing whether you liked it or not, and your girlfriend was right there…a little messing around wasn't going to hurt anyone, was it?

Hesitantly giving in, you turn around in bed to face her and wordlessly press a kiss to her lips, shoving down the lingering embarrassment. It surprises her and she doesn't kiss you back right away, instead laughs in your face and cracks more stupid dad jokes, only making you roll your eyes and punch her in the arm. She snickers, “Ha, not so good after all, are ya?”

When you don't throw a snarky remark back at her she takes your face in her bracelet-clad hand, thumb gliding across your bottom lip smoothly. The dim light in your room casts shadows on her face that make her look mystical, and hot as hell. “Wanna make you feel good.” She murmurs, mostly to herself, while scanning your features shamelessly.

You abruptly sit up and she follows, watching you quizzically. You look her up and down a few more times, just for the sake of it, before roughly yanking her towards you by the shirt and slamming your lips onto hers. She responds properly this time, slipping her tongue into your mouth with ease just how you like it, her grabby hands running all over your body, not knowing where to settle.

The kiss is hot and greedy, pure need coursing through your veins. You'd only been apart for a week at most, and it was definitely a week too long. Your own hands find their way up to her auburnette locks as you grab a fistful and pull, coaxing a scarcely audible groan rumble from her throat. You nip and bite down on her neck, stopping when you get to her pulse point where you could feel just how hard her heart was racing, reveling in the tiny pants leaving her lips as she tried so hard to stay as quiet as possible per your request, screwing her eyes shut and gritting her teeth.

She pulls you back up to meet her in a sloppy kiss, maneuvering the two of you so she was on top of you and you were on your back, gripping the soft flesh of your thighs as she places herself between your legs. Her fingers playing with your nipple while the front of her pelvis rammed against your heat was making you desperate for more of her, and quickly.

Her hands slid under your shirt and caressed your skin all over your entire torso, then you stopped her to take your shirt off and throw it to a corner of your room. Ellie wasted no time to place her mouth on your chest, peppering sweet kisses wherever her lips could reach, licking and sucking on your nipples until they hardened, pausing to stare up at you when the sensation made you squirm into her and sigh. “So much for being quiet, huh?” She taunts oh so smugly, thinking she's got to you.

But her voice fluctuates in pitch as her mind becomes more clouded with arousal, resulting in you getting wetter and wetter. She was going to kill you. Bucking your hips into her in pursuit of some friction, she takes the hint and briskly undoes the bow on your pj pants, and slides her hand in. Her fingers land on the wet spot soaking through your underwear and she prods at it, just to annoy you further.

She really was being purposely insufferable today. You jeer at her, “can you just-” She shuts you up by kissing you again, messily and open-mouthed, swallowing every little sound you made. You pull her closer against you by the waist, and she whimpers. That turned you on even more, if that was even possible, your whole being thrumming with lust, new ideas materializing in your mind. What if you got back at her for being annoying, and in the best way?

The risk factor of having to stay impossibly quiet only added more fuel to the fire, and now you wanted to challenge it as much as you could. You snake your hand down her body and palm her pussy over her clothes and you swore you could feel her clench as soon as you made contact.

She lowers her head to your shoulder and her hand in your pants stops moving, you've officially broken this girl with one lazy touch. “Hmm?” You hum, feigning foolishness as if nothing was deliberate. “Seems you're the needy one here, Els.” Cooing at her in a low voice, her uneven breathing fills your ear. The way she'd planted herself on top of you made the task difficult but not impossible, and you shimmied your hand to her boxers, feeling up the wet spot that was surely triple the size of yours. Not cracking jokes now, is she?

And voila, you knew what your next moves were going to be. Your only goal was to have some fun with her now, just because you could. You began to rub your fingers up and down her slit, the thin fabric catching her clit perfectly making her breath hitch as she tries to suppress whines. “Hey, that's not…fair.” Ellie attempts to regain composure over herself and talks back through gasps, but you don't cease what you're doing. Breaking her was too good.

She fights back by copying your motions, her shaky hand rubbing your pussy at a messy rhythm, up and down, side to side, really not accomplishing much because eventually you win, and she removes her hand from you and presses her body against yours, clutching your waist for dear life and shoving her head in the crook of your neck to stabilize herself.

Her whimpers and tiny moans were music to your ears, egging you on to do more. Moving the fabric aside, you slide a finger inside her needy, drenched hole, slick dripping down your knuckles as you find her spongy spot and curl your fingers against it. She hisses on top of you, clearly you were doing something right.

Inserting another one, you could feel her walls clench and gush around your digits, as you ruthlessly pressed against her g-spot, the heel of your palm bumping against her sensitive clit, eliciting harsher whines from her, muffled by your shoulder.

After a short few moments, you could tell she was about to cum by the way her pussy walls fluttered, and whimpers increased in desperation, sugary, dulcet “ah- haah"s escaping from her lips.

“Gettin close, Els?” Your voice was supple as honey, you were enjoying this too much. She gulps and nods her head, “yeah..hn..please.”

Not so fast. “Hm, okay.” Replying in a cheery tone, as cheery as you can be while whispering that is, you stop all you're doing and tap her on the back. She puffs and sniffles, her voice small and trembling. “What'd you do that for?”

She was too cute like this, you chuckled at her pathetic attempts to rut against you to get that release, and grunt in annoyance.

“Patience.” “Whatever.” She grumbled. “Lay down.” You order her gently, and stroke her hair. Of course she obeys, she needed this too much.

With shaky arms Ellie lifts herself off of you, pouting down at you then plopping herself down beside you in the bed.

Switching places, you stare down at her fondly, wanting to make her feel good properly now. She deserved it after all that. You bend to kiss her forehead, which makes her blush go from rosy to crimson to maroon, her freckles blending in with her cheeks, and she bites her bottom lip while avoiding your gaze. Her expression was simply adorable, all flushed and fucked out already, all for you.

You grope at her chest, making her whine and scrunch her face up. “Need you, please.” She asks, so nicely, her normally confident voice breaking. Of course you'll give her what she wants.

You decide she's waited plenty enough, and tug her boxers and pajama bottoms off in one swift motion, discard them in the same corner of your room your shirt is currently residing, and get to work.

Wasting not a second more, you rapidly shove your face in her pussy, latching onto her clit and sucking with fervor. Taking her in your mouth, grazing with the tips of your teeth ever so gently. She squirms beneath you, her knuckles turning white from how hard she's gripping the sheets on either side of her.

Losing yourself in her, nipping and sucking and licking to your heart's content, humming at her taste and purring praises into her, “pretty, pretty pussy” the vibrations from your low voice reverberating through her only making everything more intense. One particularly forceful knock of the tip of your nose to her clit makes her squeal and close her thighs around your head, unfortunately that was much louder than preferable.

Both of you freeze, chests heaving up and down, staring dazed and wide-eyed at the other, and listen through the walls to see if it caused any disturbance, and you shoot a glare at her once confirming it was unnoticed by anyone in your otherwise silent house. Not a rustle was heard, thank goodness. You exhale through a whistle, then warn through your teeth, “One more sound and I'm pushing you right out that window, got it?”

It came out meaner than you'd meant it to, but she accepts and nods meekly, responding in a wobbly voice, “M'sorry, can't help it.” You relax and press kisses on the soft flesh of her inner thighs, before resuming just as before.

You continue devouring her, her toned abs flexing and caving in beautifully, the light slurping and squelching sounds filling the room, all while holding her hips in place, fingers pressing into the shape of her muscles while she arches her back above you and her fist flies to grab onto your hair, with deathly strength. A symphony of choked “guh- uh” left her throat while you lapped up her slippery fluids, sensing her body twitch as her orgasm began to build. She didn't even have to tell you, you knew her body like you knew your own at this point.

Curling your fingers in her once more, tongue never halting its circles around her pulsing bud and a final thrust to her g-spot was enough to push her off the edge, finally.

The rush ripples through her as her whole body seizes and tenses up, she's creaming around your hard-at-work fingers, and you help her ride out the high by licking gently and weakening the pressure until she pushes your head away because it was getting too much. All that with no sound louder than a mere squeak and string of whispers resembling your name and a colorful array of profanities, she had bitten down on her hand so hard her canines had left dents, but otherwise looked so content and at peace. Gasps lessening and breathing steadying to the pace before, a faint smile on her pretty face, and her eyes lazily closed.

Seeing her all satisfied and happy in turn made you happy, and you cuddled on top of her, laying your head on her chest. Her heartbeat was going at such a fast and frantic pace, you loved hearing it slow back to normal.

Adjusting yourself made her wince, still so sensitive from all you did. “Sorry Els. Did so good.” You mumble and lean up to peck the side of her neck as she drapes her arms around your back and rubs in circles, calming the both of you.

She hums contentedly. “Love you.” “Love you too Els.”

You didn't even care about cleaning up or moving or anything of the sort, because being close to her was all that mattered. The last thing she said before falling asleep and kissing you on the top of the head was, “To the moon and back.” And you fell asleep immediately after her, feeling loved and comforted just like whenever you spent time with her, your girlfriend's ideas always turned out well after all.

Now as for the morning, that was a problem for future you to deal with. Were your parents going to barge in your room and throw her out, or was it going to be an awkward conversation? Who cares? Now it was only time to drift off to dreamland together, hand in hand.

And that you did. You disappeared from this reality and into an ethereal dream world just like earlier, only she was there with you. It was eternally euphoric, the two lovers delightfully singing duets with the fairies, skipping into the horizon and climbing up the arcs of glittery rainbows, it was more than you ever hoped for. As if there never was any disagreement to begin with, all issues were solved when you were together with her, your other half.

Now this dream you really wanted to stay in forever, but since that wasn't possible, you vowed to savor and appreciate it, and her, to the fullest.

lol someone sedate meeeeeee. idk how to end these. pikmin :3 IKKK THE ENDING IS RUSHED TOO AAAA whateva.

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thepersonnamedsam · 1 year

Note

you already know how much I love gen z driver! could you maybe write something of how would it be if gen z reader’s birthday happened to be during one of the gp’s? how everyone acts and makes it all about her?

happy birthday!

pairing: the genz!driver x '23!grid

summary: it’s the genz!drivers birthday, and it just happens to be the miami gp!

word count: 1.7k

warnings: some swear words and some google translated spanish and dutch :)

note: oh i just love all of your request, especially that one, bc i’m a birthday lover myself! have fun reading it and feel free to request more!! <3

masterlist/ taglist

The first people to congratulate her, were her parents. They called her, in the middle of the night; they forgot that time zones exist. But her heart was full when she picked up the phone at 3AM and both of her parents where singing ‚happy birthday‘ to her. What wasn’t so good, was that she had to be asleep, because it was a Sunday and race day! But it didn’t matter, it was her birthday!

Two hours later, her phone was ringing again, but this time not because someone was wishing her a happy birthday, no, it was her alarm. But today it was okay. 5AM on your birthday doesn’t feel that early, does it now? At least it didn’t for her.

Andy, her personal trainer, knocked on her door at exactly 6.30AM, holding a tiny cupcake with a candle in it. „Happy birthday, y/n!“, his voice cheerful and happy. Her smiled widened and her heart full with love again. „Thank you, Andy.“

„Are you ready for the race?“, Andy asked her. She nodded and closed her hotel door. „I’m excited to see Danny again and Nando and all the other people of course. Oh and definitely Lewis.“, Birthdays were her thing, she always missed them in school, either she had them on a weekend or she was on holiday. So, being surrounded by people who are important to her, was the best present she could’ve gotten.

On the way to the paddock, Andy let her pick out the music, her car playlist was blasting on full volume. Tongue Tied by GROUPLOVE was her favourite song at the moment, that’s why she was singing at the top of her lungs to the lyrics.

„Take me to your best friends house, go around this roundabout, oh yeah“, she looked at Andy as if he would follow the orders of the song.

The music died down, as they arrived at the paddock. Press was already waiting on her, they knew it was her special day and hoped to get some good footage of the birthday-girl. Usually the media annoyed her this early in the morning, but today, nothing could’ve ruined her day. She smiled and waved to the camera, spoke to some press people and had nice conversations with all of them.

The media always tried to find some gossip, especially on the young driver, but not today. They were happy to see her this happy.

As she set foot on the paddock, people were congratulating her. Pads on the back, some strokes on her arm here and there, everyone was nice to her, and who doesn’t enjoy some attention sometimes. Especially if it’s for something you didn’t work for. It was her favourite day of the year, Christmas is second.

„Danny!“, she shrieked as soon as she saw him. She sprinted towards the Australian and jumped into his arms. „I missed you so bad!“ Daniel just laughed and hugged the young driver. „Happy birthday, y/n.“

Her smile was consistent and contagious, every person she smiled at, they just had to smile back. Even Max smiled at her. Well, he always smiled at her, she was one of the persons that could make him smile.

„Max, can you give me a piggyback ride?“, she looked at him with puppy dog eyes and he just couldn’t deny her. „Of course, zus sister.“

As Martin Brundle spotted the two, he motioned to his cameraman to put the focus on them. „And now we see Max Verstappen carrying the birthday girl y/n. It is not rare to see the young driver interact with the different drivers. Let’s wish her a happy birthday“, he talked into the camera. „Hello you two, happy birthday y/n, am I the first to congratulate?“, the older man looked at her with an amusing look on his face. „Martin, as much as I love you, you are hopefully not the first person to wish me a happy birthday“, she looked at him with a serious face.

„Did Max congratulate yet?“, a challenging look on Martins face, he pointed at the camera and said: „Remember, this is a livestream.“, Max‘ cheeks turned a pretty pink colour and y/n gasped. „He did not!“, she gasped. „Max, you didn’t wish me a happy birthday?!“ - „I’m sorry, schat darling. Happy birthday, my dear.“

But how could she hold a grudge against a face that looked like Sid from Ice Age?

Fernando was the next person she saw, and he instantly grinned at her. „Oh Nando, do you know whose special day it is today?“, she singsang to the oldest driver on the grid. „Hmm, let me guess, is it Roscoes?“, he laughed as he saw her shocked face. „How could you, I thought we were friends?“ - „We are, we are, cariño darling. Feliz cumpleaños happy birthday, y/n.“

„How old are you now, 5?“, he laughed at her. „Har har, very funny Nando. How old are you turning this year, 60?“ She was always getting irritated fast. He grabbed her by her hip and pushed her into a side hug of his. „Don’t ever change, cariño.“

„Don’t have a plan for that, who’d change something as fabulous like this“, her hands were pointing to herself. „But on a serious note, Nando, do you know where Lewis is? I’ve been searching for him.“ Fernando only shook his head, he didn’t know where the British driver was. He rubbed over her hair as she left his side to search for her mentor.

„Oh Lewis! Your favourite person is looking for you“, she shouted over the paddock, with no luck. She didn’t even see a trace of Lew, none. But what she did find, was a monegasque driver with the number 16 and a spaniard driving under the number 55. They were arguing over some bullshit, as always, as they spotted her. „y/n! Over here“, Charles shouted over to her and waved his hand. She ran over to them and greeted the older drivers with a side hug. Carlos quickly kissed her head as he wished her a brilliant birthday. Charles even sang the first to lines of the song.

She was a bit embarrassed, but she enjoyed the attention of the two Ferrari drivers. „I love you guys, but have you seen Lewis?“, she smiled at the two as they rolled their eyes. She just wanted to see her favourite person on the paddock. She loved them all equally, but you couldn’t deny that Lewis definitely was her favourite. „I think I saw him at Mercedes, his motorhome“, Charles told her, she totally missed the sarcastic undertone of his and just skipped along to the Mercedes garage.

Before she even set a foot in the motorhome, Toto Wolff approached her and squished her into a hug. „Alles gute zum Geburtstag, liebes! Happy birthday, darling! How are you, so happy to see you“, he whispered into her ear. She loved Toto. „Hi Toto!“, she grinned up at him, „I’m good, thank you. Do you know where Lewis is?“ Toto laughed and pointed to his drivers room. „Thanks!“, she yelled as she took off.

She hasn’t been to her own motorhome, just wandering around the paddock and taking in all the attention from the others. And as she knocked on the door, she knew she’d receive the best attention of them all.

„It’s open“, she heard and busted into the tiny room. „Hello, your favourite human on this planet has arrived and will be gracing your presence from now on!“ She grinned at him and he only laughed and embraced the girl. „I have a present for the birthday girl? do you know where she is“, he joked and turned around to grab her present. „A present? Aw Lewis, you shouldn’t have, you totally should have.“

The present contained some gag gifts, such as a Mercedes hat and shirt, or some shirts with funny pattern on it. But the original present was a necklace. It wasn’t anything special, really. It was a simple silver necklace with a tiny turtle as a pendant. Her eyes were tearing up, so she quickly wiped them away.

„Is this one of the necklaces that makes you a godparent of a sea turtle?“ - „It sure is, have fun with“ he turned the pendant around and looked at the engraving on it „Yertle. He is now your godchild“, he smiled at her and motioned to y/n to turn around, so he could put the necklace on. „Thank you so much, it means a lot“, she hugged him as a thank you. He smiled at her, he adored the young driver and was grateful that he was apart of her journey.

„Thank you, love you Lewis!“, she yelled to him as she sprinted out of the motorhome. She was finally headed to her own garage. They had planned a surprise party for her and Lewis was the distraction. As she reached her motorhome, she didn’t see anyone. „Hello, is it not race day?“, she joked into the dark.

„Happy birthday, y/n!“

She jumped, her heart was racing, but she had a giant smile on her face. Her heart, once again, was full, full with love.

„Ahh, thank you guys!“, she squealed and sprinted into the engineers and mechanics, just like she won a race, which she hasn’t, by the way. She hugged all of them, thanked all and smiled the biggest smile she ever smiled. „I’m so grateful for all of you! And now, let’s win this race!“

She didn’t win, but was one of her best birthdays so far. And the after party was her personal highlight of the day. There was a huge pile of presents, just for her of course.

Lando was the DJ, Max was standing on a table, preparing to do a toast for her and Danny was laughing and pointing his camera at everybody.

The evening was definitely something she’d remember, maybe not Max‘ toast, as it was very embarrassing;

„Dear people, we have gathered here to celebrate not only my win, but also a birthday of some special person. She is not our girlfriend, which we are all happy about, but they’re all jealous of her, y/n! Happy birthday, you beast, come up here!“

The alcohol definitely made it more bearable, but the fact that Pierre had to drag you to Mac spoke for itself.

„Pierre, let me be, go back to your boyfriend“, she spoke harshly to the French man, but he ignored her with a smirk on his face and brought her up to Max.

„Ladys and gents, the birthday girl herself!“

It was one of the better party’s she attended and when she looked at all the posts she’s been tagged, she found one particular that she liked the most.

daniel3.jpg

Liked by yninsta, charles_leclerc and 473’827 others

daniel3.jpg happy birthday to my personal favourite female driver of all time! let’s raise a glass or two, to all the things i’ve lost on you ;)

View all 4638 comments

yninsta i am the only female driver…

landonorris that’s why your his fav

yninsta rude af

daniel3.jpg don’t fight kids

charles_leclerc happy birthday y/n!

carlossainz55 yeah, feliz compleaños to our fav girl

pierregasly liked by pierre gasly

f1girly we love all the drivers in the comments, y/n is definitely the paddock princess

likedbypear oh yes, idk if i want to be her or with her

yninsta be definitely with me, c’mon

neymarjr happy birthday y/n!

°°°

taglist: @ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @missskid , @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan , @angelwithoutmywings , @elleeeee21

#f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #fernando alonso #genz driver #daniel ricciardo #lewis hamilton x reader #lando norris #lando norris x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #max verstappen x reader #pierre gasly x reader #fernando alonso x reader #toto wolff x reader #female driver

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redstarwriting · 1 year

Text

the clash | v. ever fallen in love

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 3.1k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie, mentions of death, demonic names, mentions of injuries, giving and receiving stitches, geniuses being dumbasses

a/n: these keep getting longer LMAO which is wild too bc i literally had an idea to make this chapter even longer, but i had to end up splitting it up. thank you to everyone who’s reading the series, i appreciate you all more than you will ever know. please enjoy this chapter, the next should be out either late tonight or tomorrow :)

previous chapter: iv. london calling

now reading: v. ever fallen in love

next chapter: vi. (with someone you shouldn’t’ve)

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It’s been a few months since you’ve become a part of Spider Society, and much to everyone’s disappointment, you and Hobie still hate each other. Even though on any given day the two of you will be seen around each other, you’re always arguing. Yelling. There have been multiple times where the two of you almost fought, but someone always breaks it up before it gets to that point. “Ready to go, Hobie?” Gwen asks, and he scoffs. “Can’t believe ‘m bein’ forced to go to that dickhead’s world by you of all people,” he grumbles, and she rolls her eyes. “C’mon man, we all know that you’ve both been way more irritable towards everyone because you haven’t seen each other in what? Like two days?”

“I’ll be a lot worse when I see them, I can promise ya that, mate,” he snaps and Miles shakes his head. “Yeah, sure. Whatever, Hobie,” he says as Gwen pulls up the portal to your world. “Are you excited to see them? I haven’t seen you two apart for this long ever, you’re always together,” Pavitr says, side-eying Hobie. He keeps trying to tell Gwen and Miles the two of you only hate each other because you have strong feelings for one another and don’t know how to face them.

“I’m telling you, they’re obsessed with each other,” Pavitr says as he, Gwen, and Miles sit in his home, sipping some chai. “Obsessed with wanting to kill each other maybe, but that’s about it,” Miles says, and Pavitr groans. “No! You’ve got it all wrong! Neither of them knows how to express their feelings and that’s the only reason they act the way they do!” he tries to convince them, but Gwen and Miles just glance at each other. “I don’t know, Pav,” Gwen says. “I picked up on the romantic tension between the two of you immediately, why are you doubting my genius social cue reading now?”

“You need to stop being such a romantic, Pav. The two of them would rather eat glass than be romantically involved in any way,” Gwen responded, but Pavitr was not convinced.

He still isn’t. Hobie laughs. “Excited? You must be mental to think I’d be chuffed to see them,” he responds, and Pavitr sighs. One day. One day he will get Hobie to admit he cares for you.

Gwen was honestly a little nervous for this little meet-up. The two of you had a really bad fight recently, and trying to get the two of you back to talking level seems a little ambitious.

“You what?” he yelled, causing you to roll your eyes. “I’m being mentored by Miguel.” Hobie stares at you, not saying anything, with his mouth slightly open before he shakes his head. He’s very angry, but you simply don’t care. “He’s helping me, Hobie. We both have the venomous bite thing, so he’s trying to help me out with it and helping me adjust to–”

“Don’t you dare say adjust to fuckin’ Spider Society like I ain’t been here the whole time.”

“You never necessarily helped, Hobie. Unless you count constantly insulting me and–”

“Nah, don’t gimme that fuckin’ rubbish, (Y/n),” he growls, and you cross your arms. “Why are you so mad about it anyway?” He laughs. “Why am I mad? Seriously?! You’re the right fuckin’ hand of the pitch and toss!”

“The what?” you ask and he groans. “The fuckin’ boss, (Y/n)! The man!”

“So what, Hobart?! In case you forgot you’re a part of this society, you listen to Miguel too!”

“I fuckin’ don’t!”

“You fucking do!” By this point, you’d pulled attention from several other spiders, not only because of the yelling but because their senses were going off. The two of you were too focused on each other to realize they were all ready to pounce on the two of you. “Fuckin’ piss off before I do somethin’ we both regret,” he growls, and you laugh. “Make me.”

The two of you were separated after that and haven’t talked to each other since. Granted, it’s only been two days, but that is long for the two of you, honestly. And it’s been making everyone a target of Hobie’s rude remarks and your cynicism. The two of you need to talk because clearly, not talking just makes the two of you feel worse.

Even though Hobie’s acting like this is the worst thing his friends could possibly do to him, he does kind of sort of miss you. Which he hates. It’s been two days and he’s already missing you? Disgusting. He can’t wait to yell at you about it. He’s able to keep his cool and pretend like he really doesn’t want to go, but in reality, he’s so anxious to see you. “Alright, come on,” Gwen says, motioning for Hobie to enter the portal. He glances around at them. “Makin’ me go first?”

“Can’t have you run off at the last minute,” Gwen says and he sighs. “Whatever,” he says, walking a little too fast into the portal. He only stops when he’s enveloped in a familiar darkness. He feels something brush up against his leg, and he lets go of a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. “Good seein’ ya, Shadow,” he says, bending down to give your cat some attention. Shadow headbutts him and he scratches between his ears. Your cat loves Hobie, much to your disdain.

“You hurt him, I kill you,” you said to him the second time he was at your place. He picked up Shadow while you were in your room, and when you came out and saw him holding your baby, you were ready to fight. But you were ready to fight him at any given moment anyways. “I won’t hurt him. He’s much cooler than his owner anyways,” Hobie says, petting his head. You roll your eyes. “Yeah well– wait is he purring?” you say, and Hobie smirks at you. “Looks like he likes me better than his owner too.”

“Shut the fuck up. Shadow!” you call your cat, your voice going from a tone that screams ‘I hate you’ to one that screams ‘I love you.’ Of course, Shadow’s ears perk up and he hops out of Hobie’s arms and right over to yours. You stick your tongue out at Hobie, who rolls his eyes and looks away to cover up the dusting of a smile on his face. “What are you, 12?” he asks, and you scoff. “Can I hold Shadow?” Pavitr asks, and you hand him to him without a second thought. But no matter who you passed him to, he’d either end up in yours or Hobie’s lap.

He's so lost in the memory that he doesn’t even sense you approaching. “So, you decided to actually show up. I’m surprised,” he hears your voice and looks up at you. “Wasn’t exactly by choice, love. If I had it my way, I’d never be in this hellhole again,” he retorts, and you just shake your head and say nothing. That’s strange. You thought for sure you would mention something about him being forced to do something even though he always does what he wants. “What? Have you lost your spitfire after only two days of not talkin’ to me?” he asks, standing. You sigh. “I just… I don’t have the energy to fight today, Hobie. Okay?”

Don’t have the energy? You literally always have the energy to fight with him. Before he can say anything else, Pavitr comes through the portal.

“(Y/n)! How have you been?” he asks, excitedly, hugging you. Hobie doesn’t like that. But what he doesn’t like even more is the slight look of pain that spreads across your face for a split second. He observes silently as you play it off like nothing happened, and Pavitr is none the wiser to it. Gwen and Miles enter shortly after, and the dynamic you all had before yours and Hobie’s attempted murder of each other returns. Except for the constant bickering between you and Hobie. Instead, it’s just a lot of silent glaring, and subtle reactions. “Okay, hold on. What the hell is this?” Miles asks, and you both look at him. “What?” you say at the same time, ending in a side eye to each other. “That! That right there, why aren’t you two threatening to tear each other’s heads off because you said the same thing?” Miles asks, and Hobie shrugs. “I got nothin’ to say to them.”

“Ditto,” you say, and the three of them look at you two like your heads just got cut off. “Are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m havin’ a laugh, mate?” Hobie snaps at Miles and he puts his hands up in surrender. “This… is odd. I can’t recall the last time it was quiet between you two.”

“Because it never was. They always went for each other’s throats like their own lives depended on it,” Pavitr says to Gwen, and you clear your throat. “We’re right here, you know,” you say with a forced grin. “Yeah, care to save the talkin’ bout us til we aren’t around?” Hobie grumbles and the three glance at each other before nodding. “Sorry, you two…” Gwen says, and you shrug. “It’s whatever. Dealt with worse,” you say, and Hobie nods. He glances over at you again. How is no one else noticing how weird you’re acting? Is he the only one who pays attention to you or some shit?

This isn’t the first time he’s picked up on your odd behaviors. Within the time he knew you, he was able to notice your behaviors unlike anyone else.

He wasn’t necessarily looking for you. He’d never go out of his way to look for you in a million years, yet here he was. In your world because you didn’t show up at the allotted time everyone was gonna meet up at in his world. He webbed up to the tallest building, the Ember Stake Building. It resembled that of a wooden stake, except all black and metal instead of wood. Sure enough, you were there. “You’re late.”

You turn and look at him, but don’t say anything. Instead, you just turn away. He frowns. “What’s that all about, then?” he asks, plopping next to you. You sigh. “I think I’m just gonna stay here tonight.”

“What? Why? Because you’re too borin’ to do anythin’ fun? Gotta work late tonight?”

“No. Personal reasons,” you say and he cocks his head to the side. “Such as?”

“Fuck off, Hobie. I’m not telling you.”

“Yes, you are. What’s goin’ on in that empty head of yours?” he asks and you give him an unamused look. “It’s the anniversary of my Uncle Belial’s death,” you mumble. He frowns. “Ah. I see.”

“...Yeah.” The two of you sit in silence, the wind the only noise happening before he sighs. “Well then, you’re definitely comin’ tonight.” He stands. You look at him. “I just said-”

“And I don’t give a shit. Come on, your friends are waitin’ for you. Besides, they can help ya get your mind off of it. Chop-chop.” You ended up going because you were forced to. But you did have a good time. Hobie was right, it helped you get your mind off of things. And maybe you were reading into it, but he seemed just a tad bit nicer to you that night than normal.

And you could tell his.

“And what the hell is your problem today?” you appear behind Hobie who is angrily restringing his guitar in his common room at Spider Society. “Well now you’re a part of it,” he responds. You sit on the floor across from him. “As much as I’m happy just my presence can reduce you to a massive asshole, I don’t think I’m the only reason this time.”

“How could you even tell?”

You shrug. “You busy your mind and hands when you’ve got something on your mind,” you say, and he looks at you. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Didn’t realize you were obsessed with me.”

“You wish,” you say. He sighs. “New group of fascist assholes showed up today,” he begrudgingly opens up and you nod. “Told you so.” He glares at you. “Had to say it,” you say, “But you’ll beat them. You always do.” He glances at you. “And if you can’t, I’ll just take care of it for you.” He laughs, unamused. “I’d like to see you try.”

He’s unsure why so many memories are flooding back to him at this moment in time. The answer is that he’s obsessed with you and Pavitr is right, but we don’t need to talk about that until he realizes it for himself. Maybe not seeing you has made him think about you more for some reason. He shakes his head, rejoining the conversation. Everything goes surprisingly well for the rest of the time you all are together. Unfortunately, Gwen gets a notice that something is happening in her world, and she has to go. Miles follows, and Pavitr is torn between going with them or staying with the two of you to make sure no one gets murdered. Or to see some romantic shit.

“We been behavin’, haven’t we?” Hobie says, a bit relieved they were leaving so he could find out what was up with you. You were close with the others, but even they’ve commented on you two only opening up with each other. “You actually have… and maybe it’d be good to leave them alone. Talk out whatever issues they’re having,” Miles says to Pavitr and Gwen, who look at each other but reluctantly agree. Miles and Pav rush into Gwen’s world before her. “I swear if you two kill each other I’m going to kill both of you,” Gwen says, walking backward into the portal to her world and pointing at the two of you. “We won’t.”

“Probably,” Hobie finishes, and Gwen rolls her eyes before disappearing. There’s a silent tension between the two of you before he speaks up. “What happened?”

“I don’t know what you’re–”

“Don’t play dumb with me, now. What happened?” he pushes, and you frown at him. Shadow leaps up into your lap and nuzzles you. You sigh and gently pet him. Hobie stays silent, watching and waiting. “Just… bad day,” you mumble. “Bad day, how?”

“Bad spider day.” He hums. “That why you looked like Pav stabbed ya after that hug?” You look at him, surprised. “You saw that?”

“Course I did. ‘m not fuckin’ daft,” he responds, and you look at Shadow. “Yeah… it’s nothing, though. Just a few scratches, typical Spider-Person shit,” you say, and he nods. “Let me see, then.”

“What?”

“Let me see.”

“Why?”

“Cause you’re lyin’,” he shrugs, and you glare at him. “Have I told you I hated you?”

“Not recently, but yeah.” You glare at him but sigh. “Fuck you, Hobie,” you mumble, but shrug off your oversized cardigan. His eyes widen as he sees deep lacerations and bruises spread across your shoulder and onto your back. He stands up and approaches you without even realizing it. You watch him as he studies your injuries. “Who did this?” His voice sounds darker than you’ve ever heard it. You look away from him. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” he responds immediately. You turn your head to look at him again, only to have him staring directly into your eyes. “Prowler,” you mumble, and he frowns. “The worst of the worst in your world,” he whispers to himself, recalling a conversation the two of you had months ago. He glances around. “Where’s your first aid kit?” he asks, and you look at him with a side-eye. “Why?”

“Cause I wanna get high off the painkillers in it, why do you think, you dolt?” he snaps, and you point to your bathroom. “Under the sink.” He gets up and walks into your bathroom, grabs the first aid kit, and walks back out to you on your couch. “Turn round and move a bit,” he says, and you do. He sits behind you, starting to clean and stitch to your injuries up. You wince slightly and he frowns. “Why haven’t you done this yet?”

“I can’t reach back there myself.”

“Then ask someone else to do it.”

“I don’t have anyone to ask anymore.”

“Yes, you do,” he says without missing a beat. You turn your head to say something snarky to him, but he looks at you at the same time. Your faces are closer than the two of you expected, causing you both to quickly look away. You can feel your face burning, and you’re grateful the injuries are mainly on your back and not close to your heart because you don’t want to hear his comments about how fast it’s beating. On an equal note, Hobie’s happy you aren’t looking at him because he has his jaw clenched and swallows hard. His heart is beating just as fast, but he pretends like it’s nothing, just like you. He finishes the stitches, placing bandages over top of them. “Done,” he says, and you mutter a quick ‘thank you’ as he tosses the first aid kit onto your coffee table. “Should be healed by tomorrow,” you mumble, and he nods. “When did that happen?”

“A few hours before you all got here,” you admit, and he frowns. “And you were just gonna pretend nothing happened?”

“Yes. I told you earlier, I’m too tired to deal with any bullshit today, okay?” you confess, and he frowns.

“He get ya that good cause you’re tired?”

“I guess.”

“When’s the last time you slept?”

“Dunno.”

“Stop lyin’ love,” he says, and the nickname you hate oh so much sounds just a little sweeter to you than it should. “Couple days ago.”

“You haven’t slept in two days?” You shake your head, and he sighs. “Go the fuck to sleep. Now.”

“But–”

“Go,” he demands, pointing to your bedroom. You groan, “You’re so fucking annoying,” you mumble, getting up and dragging yourself to your room. “Yeah, yeah whatever,” he says, following you. You flop onto your bed as he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Come to tuck me in?”

“You wish,” he watches as Shadow hops up onto your bed, curling up against you. You immediately put your hand on him and pet him. Hobie frowns as he feels a pang of annoyance toward your cat. “Gonna stand there and watch me sleep or something?” your voice pulls him out of his ridiculous thoughts, and he scoffs. “Gonna stand here and make sure you don’t try to get up as soon as I go,” he says, and you sigh. “Fine,” you mutter, rolling away from him. He stands there until he’s sure you’re asleep. He glances at Shadow, who is still awake and staring at him. He puts his finger to his lips to say “shh” as he pulls his mask over his head.

He and the Prowler of this world need to have a bit of a chat.

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#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #hobie x reader #spiderpunk x reader #spiderverse x reader #hobie brown #hobie #spiderpunk #spider-punk #spiderverse #theclashofthespiderverse

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intrepidacious · 1 year

Text

almost believing

summary: You and Bucky aren't exactly on speaking terms at the moment. That doesn't mean you're getting out of having to pretend to be married for a mission.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

word count: 5.4k

warnings: miscommunication dialled up to eleven bc it's me; friends to lovers with lots of seething in between; set around christmas, but not a christmas fic; slight spoiler warning for wakanda forever just to be safe

please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

prompt: fake dating, baby 😌 title and initial inspiration for this fic were taken from "so close" from enchanted. yes. that scene.

a/n: this was written for my wonderful tiff's sweet as sugar writing challenge!! @traitorjoelite i'm so proud of you and i hope you enjoy this fic. i really thought this one would be short i swear. big shoutout and thank you to @sweetascanbee for listening to me rant about this for weeks, i appreciate you so much!!

masterlist | read on ao3

Here’s the thing: It’s supposed to be a simple mission. Just gathering intel at the hotel for one single night, the two of you pretending that everything is fine for a couple of hours more.

After all, it’s Bucky’s last mission with you before his reassignment goes through.

Well, it’s not like it’s going to make a difference to how much you’re seeing him, to be honest.

You’re not sure when he started making himself rare or why, but once you noticed it, it was impossible not to.

"Sorry, I’m heading out," when you ask him to grab lunch together seems inconspicuous enough, as does, "Ah, I’m already supposed to meet Sam," when you try asking him about that trip to IKEA you’d been talking about for ages.

But it doesn’t stop there. One excuse follows the next, and suddenly there’s always something more important than the two of you hanging out.

Of course, you try to rationalize it at first. Swallow down your hurt feelings, because Bucky is your friend, and sometimes people just need space. You’re fine. The two of you are fine.

Once he starts scheduling dates for Friday night, though—which has always been movie night, always, every week since you met him—you know that something’s wrong.

"Is he angry with me?" you keep asking Steve, who looks very uncomfortable and definitely knows what's going on.

"Just give him a little space," he suggests timidly. So you do. You let the whole thing go.

For like a week.

"I just don’t know what I did," you tell Sam over drinks, your head held in your hands.

"Nope," he answers, downing his dregs. "I’m not doing this. Nuh-uh."

"You know, too?" you cry, accusingly pointing at him.

"I don’t know anything," Sam deadpans. And then he puts his scarf on and leaves.

"Maybe try talking to Bucky about it?" Natasha suggests, either incapable of hiding her amused smile or unwilling to try.

"I would if I ever saw him for longer than a 'hi, how are you' at the gym," you mumble. Fact is, you’re getting pissed about him giving you the silent treatment without even knowing what you did wrong.

Because before this, whatever this is, things were fine. Great, even. Free afternoons were spent on each other’s couches, introducing him to your favorite tv shows and letting him teach you that stupid card game he loves so damn much. You’d even been starting to imagine that there might be something …

Clearly, you were wrong.

Now, you can’t even look at him without your throat closing up. It’s like you woke up a few weeks ago and he’s become an entirely different person around you, much more like he was at the beginning of your friendship, distant and cold.

He didn’t even tell you that he’d signed up for a transfer.

The mission call feels like your last chance.

A whole evening of teamwork and espionage, of him basically having no other choice than talking to you and finally telling you why the fuck he would get himself reassigned without even telling you beforehand. You could’ve hugged Fury for the opportunity.

That is, until you’re handed the file containing your fake identities for the op a few hours before you’re supposed to leave.

"You’re joking," you say as soon as you open the door.

"Great, you’re here as well," Steve says dryly. "Again, a) you both gotta learn how to knock, b) the whole thing wasn’t my idea or my decision, but I also think it’s the best directive for what you’re trying to do, and c) no, there’s no one else available for the mission. Anything I missed?"

Bucky deliberately doesn’t meet your eye, his arms still crossed as he stares Steve down with a look you can’t decipher. He doesn’t even acknowledge you standing in the door, but his foot is doing the tapping thing again.

You purse your lips and join the staring.

Steve sighs, rubbing his temples with the palms of his hands. "Listen, you two work well together and I know these past few weeks have been … strained"—you almost laugh at that—"but it’s just one night."

"We need to pretend we’re married," you say. "How’re we going to pull that off if he can’t stand being in the same room as me?"

"I trust that there won’t be any issues." Steve raises an eyebrow at Bucky as he says that, but of course he doesn’t get a reply. That would necessitate talking in your presence.

"One night," Bucky repeats through gritted teeth.

Not for the first time, there seems to be some sort of silent conversation between the two of them that you’re not privy to. You roll your eyes.

"I’ll see you later."

You leave with your back straight and without a glance over your shoulder, the door slamming shut behind you.

For a moment, you’re tempted to barge into Natasha’s office next, but you have a feeling like she’d just give you another one of her looks again, which really won’t better your mood. So instead, you slam another door and flop onto your bed, blankly staring at the ceiling for a while.

Surely, there’s some twisted sort of irony in this whole situation, but you’re not laughing.

Usually, before a mission, you’d get bagels together from the bakery around the corner. You haven’t done that in a while, but you’re still quietly begging your phone to show a new unread message when you look at the time however long later.

Instead, there’s just your lockscreen picture of Bucky’s grinning face that you can’t bear to get rid off, no matter how many times it stings you. It’s almost a year old, now, back when you’d taken him to go do your holiday shopping with you, insisting that "no one’s gonna recognize you, look at that great cap you’re wearing".

It’d started snowing halfway through the afternoon, and he’d kept reaching for your hand in order not to lose you in the crowd. You both gave up halfway through your list and just went to get coffee instead, strolling through Central Park and talking about nothing and everything.

That’s when you’d realized you'd been falling in love with him, laughing and fingers freezing around your paper cup, a strange new warmth spreading throughout your body.

You need to change your lockscreen.

***

Half an hour before pick-up, you leave your room with a duffle bag slung over your shoulder and almost run into Bucky. He’s leaning against the opposite wall like he’s been waiting for you, and it stings because that’s what he always used to do, back when you were still talking. When you could still pretend that maybe, just maybe, your feelings weren’t quite so hopeless.

Now, though, his easy smile is missing. Instead, an ever-present frown is furrowing his brows again, his mouth opened just a little, but nothing comes out.

"Look, I don’t want to do this any more than you do," you sigh. "But it’s a two-person job."

He nods, his tongue poking his cheek. "I know."

"Do you think you’re gonna be alright with us pretending we’re madly in love for a whole evening?"

Bucky’s jaw tightens. "I’ll be fine."

Of course he’s going to be fine.

You grab the strap of your bag more tightly. "I wish you would just tell me what I did."

"You didn’t do anything." If he’s telling the truth, though, why does he look so numb?

For a moment, you want to shout at him, cry, beg, make him tell you when and how this went wrong, but you don’t. You just stare at him in silence, hoping he’ll get it anyway, and he refuses to notice it.

"So," Bucky finally says. "You ready to get hitched?"

There’s the ghost of a grin in his eyes, and even though it’s not enough to mask the uncomfortable tilt of his shoulders, you sigh. At least he’s trying, you suppose.

"Let’s just get fake-married so we can fake-divorce and go our separate ways," you say, walking past him.

"I’ve got something for you."

You turn around again, raising your eyebrows as he holds up a ring between the fingers of his left hand. There’s a giant stone set in its center, striking and sparkling and not subtle in the slightest. Tony really went all out for appearance’s sake. Your fingers involuntarily tighten around the strap of your bag.

Bucky drops the ring in the palm of your hand.

"Quite the present," you chuckle nervously. You don’t even want to know how much this thing costs, and you feel like they're going to chop off your head if something happens to it.

"Try it on, then."

It’s a bit too large on your finger, and it feels foreign. It’s not you at all. Then again, it’s not supposed to be you.

Before you can say anything, though, Bucky shakes his head. "What?" you say with a roll of your eyes.

"That couldn’t look more fake if you tried. Wait a sec."

He turns his back towards you and rummages through his bag for a while, his jaw still set as he holds out his hand once more. With a sigh, you pull the ring off again and return it, but before you can pull your hand back, he catches it in his own.

This one slides onto your finger perfectly, and your eyes widen at the sight of it. It’s a lot subtler, with only a small emerald for decoration, but it’s so delicate and beautiful it takes your breath away.

Bucky’s mouth opens and closes, but he swallows whatever came to his mind. "That’s better," he says instead, and his voice sounds oddly rough.

"They gave you a backup?" you say, angling your hand this way and that to see how the gem catches the light.

"Mhm."

Something is off about this whole situation, but then you feel like you don’t really know Bucky anymore. Not like you used to, anyway. It used to be so easy to get a read on him.

You stand there in silence for a moment, and it’s only then that both of you realize he’s still holding your hand. He drops it immediately, and you pretend it doesn’t sting.

"How come you don’t get a ring?" you ask.

"Says who?" Bucky says, clearing his throat and activating the camouflage sleeve Tony had installed for his arm. Sure enough, there’s a ring on his hand as well.

You grab his hand curiously. When you touch it, there’s no difference between his fingers and the pseudo-platinum band, all of it just cool vibranium in disguise.

"It’s fake," you say. "It’s not the same."

"No," he agrees and pulls his hand away. "Looks real enough, though."

You notice the red splotches on his neck and wonder what it is that you’ve said this time, but it’s pointless anyway. He’s not going to tell you even if you asked.

Maybe you should be used to him icing you out by now, but it still hurts.

***

"Yes, Steve, I know," you sigh. "We’re just gathering intel, nothing else."

"I just wanted to have you say it again so we’re all clear. You both love taking risks when it’s not necessary."

"Alright, punk, we got it," Bucky says, tugging at his tie again.

You can’t even blame him for the nervous habit; you’ve been twisting your fake wedding ring around your finger for the entire drive.

This isn’t the first time the two of you had to go undercover as a couple; hell, it’s not even the first time you’ve pretended to be married. Usually, though, you could have a laugh about the whole thing together.

Now you barely know how to act around Bucky as yourself, let alone as some made up woman.

"I think we’re going to attract a lot of attention if we don’t get out soon," you say, readjusting the collar of your blouse underneath your coat.

You notice Steve staring at your hand for a moment, a frown between his brows, but his lips curve upwards a split second later. "Ready to do this?" he asks and you smile a little in confirmation.

Bucky takes another breath and then he nods curtly. "Let’s go."

The change that goes through him as soon as the two of you climb out of the car is so stark you almost turn on your heels again and beg Steve to let you off the hook, after all. His hand sneaks around your waist and pulls you closely into his side as you walk towards the hotel, all soft smiles and charm.

"Sorry for the holdup," he tells the bellman waiting next to your bags with a wink. "The missus and I just needed another minute."

You lightly slap Bucky’s chest in fake indignation. It’s quick thinking on his part, really.

When you’re checking in under your assumed names for the evening, he keeps his arm around you, and the content look stays in his eyes. A subtle glance at your surroundings tells you some of your persons of interest have already arrived early for the event tonight, looking around the sparkling lobby with the same feigned boredom.

Bucky nudges your cheek with his nose and then smiles again when you look at him. It makes your brain shut off for a moment.

When he looks at you like this, it’s so easy to forget the past couple of months and just pretend for a moment. What if there was no mission at all, and it could simply be the two of you?

But of course, that’s not possible. All of it is fake, including the way he looks at you. You know that.

So how come it doesn’t feel fake to you at all?

***

You hate this dress, you hate these people, you hate this dinner, and most of all, you hate how much you enjoy spending this much time so physically close to Bucky.

It feels so natural when he links your hand with yours, so fucking meant to be, even though he’s just putting on a show for the band of creeps you’re tasked to keep an eye on.

But damn if he’s not good at it.

It’s amazing, really, how his eyes immediately soften when you turn your head towards him, like you’re the only person in the whole room. He looks at you during this charade like you wish he’d look at you daily, even far from prying eyes around you; especially then. It makes your breath shorten, your heart pounding erratically because it thinks it’s getting everything it’s ever hoped for.

Hearts are often stupid like that.

A full night of glances and touches and the pretence of secret whispers will do all kinds of twisted things to your feelings.

There’s a lull in the conversation, and when Bucky squeezes your hand you realize he’s no longer the only one who’s looking at you.

You chuckle nervously. "I’m sorry, I got … distracted for a moment. What were you saying?"

"Ah, newlyweds," one of the investor goons laughs. He’s a particularly vile looking man whose suit is way too big on his spindly limbs.

Bucky, academy award winning actor in another lifetime, chuckles politely while the fondness in his eyes seems to increase tenfold. "We’ve been married three years, actually," he says, sticking to your official cover story.

It’d been Tony’s idea to keep your fake timeline as close to the truth as possible to avoid any slip-ups. It’s a great move on paper, really, but in reality it just adds another nail to the coffin.

Three years ago, you were on a mission in Brussels, only the second one ever where it was just the two of you. It was mostly surveillance, so one of you usually had downtime while the other kept lookout. It became customary that you’d entertain each other during those long hours, getting to know each other intimately for the first time, taking the first tentative steps towards the friendship you now share.

That mission was the groundwork of your falling in love with him in the first place.

"You seem to be doing something right if you’re both still so enamoured with each other," Spindly Arms says.

"I’m the luckiest guy in the world," Bucky responds, still looking into your eyes. "It’s hard not to do the right thing, then."

He presses a kiss to your cheek and you smile timidly. His lips linger for just a moment, and then he moves to whisper into your ear, something you’re sure looks like sweet nothings to everybody else but is actually a, "Don’t fall asleep on me."

You tilt your head, shove him teasingly as if he’d said something inappropriate, and because he’s always been quick to catch on he winks, obvious enough so that the other people that are part of this conversation can clearly see it.

It’s not long after this that you excuse yourselves, walking around the room with apparent aimlessness. Everything is sparkling with pure gold decorations and countless little twinkling lights that have been scattered around the room like millions of fireflies. You spot an actual orchestra right underneath the massive Christmas tree.

"Kind of tacky, don’t you think?" Bucky murmurs with a sideway glance at you.

"Maybe a little," you say.

The truth is, though, the room looks oversaturated and expensive and magnificent. Something straight out of a Hallmark movie, more like a movie set than a real place.

It’s the one thing that keeps this whole thing from being completely unbearable.

He must have seen the truth in your eyes, because he ducks his head and says quietly, "I’m gonna go check out the terrace."

You just nod and smile as he kisses your cheek again and then vanishes through the crowd with a few long strides. Sighing, you take another drink from the tray a waiter offers you, absent-mindedly rubbing your cheek.

"What a lovely surprise," a voice says next to you and you freeze for a moment before forcing yourself to calmly take a sip. "Miss … Winter, was it?"

"Mrs," you say with a pleasant smile. "Good evening, Director."

"Right, of course." Director de Fontaine eyes her martini warily. "I don’t suppose these olives are fresh, do you?"

Your mind is racing. If she’s here on official business, then your entire operation might be compromised.

"So," she continues, looking rather bored. "Met any interesting people yet, Mrs Winter?"

"Oh, yes," you say lightly, clinging to your role of unassuming young wife. "It’s all rather exciting."

"I’m sure. These kinds of events are all very … shiny." She looks into your eyes and there’s an almost explicit warning written in hers. "It’s surprisingly easy to get blinded."

You swallow heavily even as she smiles. "If you’ll excuse me, I think I see someone …"

You quickly walk over to the buffet table where some of the wives have formed a semi circle of gossip, trying your best to hide your sigh of relief when the director doesn’t follow you.

For a few minutes, you lose yourself in pointless gossip, until one of the women takes hold of your forearm.

"You must tell us, what’s your secret?"

"Excuse me?" you chuckle nervously.

"Your husband!" she exclaims, earning a few nods from some of the others. "He clearly adores you," she goes on. "I don’t think he’s looked away from you once since you joined us."

You steal a look around your shoulder. She’s right. Bucky’s gaze immediately locks with yours, an almost bashful grin on his lips. You caught me, his eyes seem to say, and you feel a rush of heat go through you.

He should be nominated for an Oscar with this performance.

Quickly, you turn around again to meet several expectant pairs of eyes.

"I don’t know what to tell you," you say. "He’s just … always been like this. I mean, he’s my best friend. I really don’t know what I would do without him."

There’s not a word of a lie in what you’re saying, and it elicits a round of coos and murmurs even as your heart gives a sharp pang.

"Dance with me?"

You flinch, turning to look at Bucky’s outstretched hand, at the sad, hopeful look in his eyes, and the line between reality and fiction blurs a bit more.

You take his hand, and he pulls you onto the dance floor, some cheery Christmas song ramping up to its big finale. Then, the band switches to a slower song. To you, it sounds mournful.

"That was nice," Bucky mutters into your ear. "What you said."

"I meant it, you know," you whisper, but he turns, and you don’t think he’s heard you.

Bucky places his hand on your hip and you hide a shudder. His gloved fingers wrap around yours, and then you start moving again.

You barely know the steps, but he’s a great leader, and he doesn’t say anything when you step on his toes. In fact, his gaze softens even more when he looks at you after the third time, the hand around your waist pulling you a little closer.

"How are you doing this?" you say without stopping to smile.

"Easy," Bucky says, and the way he says it almost makes you believe it’s true.

You bite your lip, trying to stop yourself from breathing him in. "I didn’t mean the dancing."

With the last note of the song, you stumble over his foot again and he snorts. "Me neither."

The melody changes and neither of you lets go. His steps are getting slower, smaller, like he’s just trying to keep both of you in motion. Your head is spinning. The twinkling lights are starting to blur into a great mass of stars in the background, like you’re at the center of a music box and everything else is just background noise.

You wrap both hands around his neck as you’re swaying, then, your foreheads only inches apart. You could stay in this moment forever, you think, as it stretches into blissful infinity. Somewhere, a clock strikes ten.

Bucky leans in a little closer and your breath hitches again.

"It’s time," he whispers, and your eyes fly open.

You’d almost forgotten about the mission.

"Val is here," you say quietly.

His expression hardens for just a second. "What?"

"She came to talk to me earlier. She knows we’re here."

"Why didn’t you say something?"

"I … There wasn’t time."

"We’re just gonna have to be quick and discrete."

You open your mouth, but then you see the distance close in again between you two, and so you just nod.

The plan is almost laughably simple, but it’s probably going to work out just as you’ve laid out beforehand. Everyone in the room has watched the two of you staring at each other for the past couple of hours, so no one bats an eye when Bucky nudges you gently and you make your way up the stairs to the fancy elevator that’s going to take you up to a bedroom.

Or, more specifically, to a bedroom that’s being used to store all kinds of evidence, but no one else needs to know that little detail.

You notice the director talking to Spindly Arms and a couple of other people, but you force your gaze not to linger on her. Instead, you grab Bucky’s hand more tightly.

He lets go of you as soon as the elevator doors close behind the two of you, dragging a hand through his hair and messing it up. There aren’t any cameras in the elevator, but you’re both pretty sure there will be on the floor you’re going. "CIA exposure, that’s exactly what we needed."

"There was nothing I could’ve done," you say, tugging your sleeves down your shoulders.

"I’m not blaming you, sweetheart," Bucky says distractedly, loosening his tie. Your heart makes a very heavy thud. "But if Walker shows up tonight as well, I’m gonna shoot first and ask questions later."

"No, you won’t," you say with a grin, mostly because you know he didn’t bring his gun because the male attendees were all frisked at the entrance.

"Maybe I’ll throw a knife. I could say it was an accident."

The conversation lasts barely a moment, but it reminds you so much of what the two of you used to be, it hurts.

You follow him stumbling out of the elevator onto the right floor with a breathless laugh. There’s no one in sight as you subtly check the room numbers before making him follow you with a coquettish smile for the security camera.

You find the right door without much trubble, pulling the keycard out of your inconvenient little handbag. "Come on now," you murmur as the lock rejects it at the first try.

Suddenly, Bucky’s hand is on your waist again, and you gasp as he spins around. The keycard drops to the floor.

He presses you against the wall, effectively trapping you in his embrace. Your hands are laid flat against his chest, his heart thundering madly underneath your fingertips. Bucky’s eyes flit around madly, like he’s trying to come up with something on the spot and, for the first time since you’ve known him, is left without ideas.

You gasp as his nose brushes against yours.

"Sorry," he whispers hoarsely. And then he kisses you.

Your body responds immediately, lighting a fire in your core as his lips press against yours, hungry, gentle, almost apologetic. You can taste the champagne on his tongue.

You arch your back against him on instinct as his hands travel down your arms, brushing your hips, your tighs, slowly parting your dress at the slit. Your eyes fly open the moment you realize what he’s doing, even though he swallows your gasp.

In one smooth motion, he pulls the I.C.E.R. out of the garter on your thigh and fires a single, silenced shot. The guy with the earpiece barely has the time to grunt before he sacks against the opposite wall, unconscious, his hand still in the pocket of his jacket.

"Fuck," you hiss, pushing Bucky away from you. He stumbles slightly, the gun loose in his fingers. His eyes are almost black as he blinks at you. "You could have told me we’re being shadowed."

Bucky’s mouth is stained from your lipstick, and the sight of that alone makes your head swim. You can still feel the ghost of his hand on your leg.

"It’d have blown our cover," he replies, infuriatingly calm. "Hate me later, our window has just narrowed by a bit."

You swallow, blinking to try and gain control over your breath again, grabbing your gun back with a short nod. "Let’s finish this, then."

***

Back at the Compound, you both give an exhausted report about the events of the night, leaving out nothing but your improvised kiss on floor fifteen.

Your lips are still tingling with it.

Finally, you and Bucky are left alone in the briefing room, and for the first time in weeks, he doesn’t just get up and leave as soon as the silence takes hold. Instead, you both sit next to each other, staring straight ahead.

"I guess we should talk," he says slowly, reluctantly, and you can’t help it.

Your defenses shoot up again.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," you say, squinting.

"Yes, you do." He’s lost the tie hours ago, but he keeps tugging at the fabric in his hands as if it could give him the words he’s looking for. "I shouldn’t have kissed you, not with … Not like that."

"Like you said, the guy would’ve blown our cover," you say, crossing your arms.

"Doesn’t make it right."

"What do you want me to say, Buck?" you say sharply. "That you should’ve talked to me before? Well, I’m kind of used to you not doing that anymore, so just forget it."

"Y/N—"

"No, really, it’s fine. Like I said, you’re leaving, anyway, so what does it matter. Didn’t tell me you were planning to do that, either. You just did it."

"You know why I’m leaving."

"No, I fucking don’t!" There are tears in your eyes now. "I have been trying really hard, Bucky, but you’ve just shut me out. I thought you needed space, which is fine, by the way, but you just—one day you decided you were done with me and that was it."

He stares at you incredulously. "You seriously don’t remember."

"Don’t remember what?!"

"That you were talking about me. To Natasha."

The memory rushes through you so violently it’s almost ridiculous you hadn’t thought about it in months.

You’d just come back from another undercover op, and you’d called her right as the door to your room had closed behind you because not for the first time, your feelings had threatened to spill over again.

"You should talk to him. Be honest."

"No, Nat, come on, I can’t—I can’t do that to him. I can’t risk … you know, he’s my best friend. And that’s all it can ever be. I don’t want to ruin what we have. I just wish he’d make it easier."

"You’re making excuses, you know. Both of you deserve a bit of happiness, don’t you think?"

"I tried," Bucky says now, barely looking at you. "I tried making it easier. But you’re so …"

"So what?" you ask hollowly, ignoring the fact that you can feel the tears starting to trickle down your cheeks now. "So pathetic? That’s what this is about, isn’t it? That’s why you asked for the transfer, so you can be rid of me."

"Rid of you?" Bucky starts, but you ignore him.

"You know what, Bucky, fuck you if you think my feelings for you are so much of an inconvenience that you need to leave the state. Silly me for thinking we could be adults about this."

"You’re the one who wouldn’t just tell me."

"Well, now you know anyway and I’m sure once you’re off to Cairo or wherever the fuck they’re going to send you, you can have a big old laugh about the stupid girl who fell in love with you despite the fact that—"

"Love?"

"I mean, obviously?!"

"You … you’re in love … with me?" There’s something very soft and vulnerable in Bucky’s eyes.

"Are we talking about two different phone calls?"

"I thought you hated me."

You huff incredulously. "Why would I hate you?"

"That’s why I gave you space, I thought … but then …" He grabs your hands. "Sweetheart, I’ve been in love with you for years."

It punches the air out of your lungs. "What?"

Bucky’s eyes are devastating as he looks at you, then. "I’m so sorry, I—I got it all wrong, I was just—I thought you know and you didn’t see me like that and that’s why I …"

"You …?" you say, still not quite comprehending what’s going on.

His thumb caresses your knuckles, halting when it makes contact with the ring you’re still wearing. "I'm in love with you," he says quietly.

"I don’t understand," you whisper.

"Please tell me I didn’t fuck this up completely."

This time, you’re the one to lean in.

Where your first kiss in the hallway had been feverish, this one is soft, almost unbelievably sweet, both of you still breathless with the fact that you’re allowed to do this. Finally, it feels like all the pieces are falling into place and you’re home again.

You press closer into him and Bucky smiles against your lips, pulling you in with his hands on your hips just like he did when you were dancing earlier.

The loudspeakers overhead crackle. "Alright, kids, we’re gonna break this up until you’re back in your own quarters, I don’t want to expose FRIDAY to the creation of your sex tape."

You break up with a snort.

"Fuck you, Tony," Bucky shouts, but he’s still smiling as wide as you’ve ever seen him do.

You giggle as you nudge your nose against his, curling your fingers into his hair. "That reminds me, you know."

"Of what?"

"Quick and discrete," you mumble, repeating his words from the hotel. "Title of your sex tape."

Bucky groans and shuts you up again.

(A few years later, you get the ring back.)

happy holidays, y'all 💛 thank you for reading!! if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications!!

#sweet as sugar challenge #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #almost believing

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

yayy now that ik you're open to write for joel, i propose smth angsty along the lines of "you came back for me" bc reader and joel got into a really big fight before getting separated. i just want the angstttt pls crush my heart tear it apart then put it back together by ending really fluffy plssss

AN | The inevitable has arrived - here we are foraying into Joel territory. Enjoy ❤️

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.4k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You’re really stupid sometimes,” it was an exasperated huff that had your hands on your hips as you looked at him. You didn’t mean it - not really anyway. Joel was probably one of the smartest and most resourceful people you’d ever met. He hung his head with a heavy sigh before turning back to you. His expression was entirely unamused, “so foolish and - and stubborn!”

This got a laugh out of him, a bark of unamused laughter but nonetheless. He crossed his arms over his chest, “I’m stubborn? Have you met yourself? You don’t get what you want and you act like a petulant child!”

“I am not,” you hissed, trying your best not to stomp your foot; you didn’t need to help prove his point any further. Maybe he was a little right…Joel often was. But you also felt like your point was right too. Even if this was the middle of a weird zombie apocalypse you were now living in, you should be able to take some time out for yourself. Especially now that you had a more stable living situation, “it’s always work this and work that with you. We should-”

“We should do what we need to in order to survive,” he cut you off, refusing to meet your eyes. He knew, begrudgingly, that you also weren’t entirely wrong, “that is the most important thing.”

“What about us-”

“There is no us,” he insisted and damn. Those four little words broke your heart more than anything. All this time spent together, getting to know each other both on a physical and emotional level meant nothing to him. You should have known. It was almost funny in a horrible way. The older man refused to look at you and you couldn’t help but think him a coward. Maybe he was right after all - maybe you were just a child, “get that in your head and let’s get this over with. We’re losing daylight.”

He took a few steps forward, dirt and gravel crunching under his boots. You shook your head, more to yourself than anything but didn’t follow him. When Joel didn’t hear your footsteps behind him, he turned around, “I’m not going with you.”

“C’mon,” he insisted, “don’t be like this. It’s dangerous for you to be out here by yourself.”

“Well, how am I ever going to learn to survive solely on my own if I’ve always got you or someone else leading the way?” He was correct in reasoning though. It wasn’t safe for anyone alone. It was also recommended that people go out in pairs for that reason, “just go on and I’ll find my own way back.”

“Stop acting like this,” but you just shook your head and took a step further back, “can you just listen to me for once?”

“Actually, Joel, for once it would be me not listening to you. So…you do whatever it is you need to do, do it. I’ll go back and patiently wait. Then you can come back and tell me what to do,” you offered him a sticky sweet smile before turning on your heel and heading back in the direction from which you came. You took off before Joel could say anything, biting your lip in order to keep from making any extra sounds or letting your tears fall down your cheeks.

You heard him call after you, your name falling from his lips in an increasingly exasperated tone. You heard him come after you for a few moments, but eventually he stopped, his signature sigh falling from his lips. But eventually he moved on and you continued back towards Jackson.

Realistically you’d just proved his point by acting in such a childish manner. But you didn’t care, not right now. He’d hurt you, and you didn’t even know if he’d meant to or knew the effect his words were having on you.

“Dumb, stupid girl,” you groaned at yourself, “had to go and mess everything up. And now you’re going to get yourself lost.”

Admittedly, your sense of direction wasn’t the greatest. But the path you’d taken to get to this point, the point where you’d picked an argument with Joel, had been a fairly linear path. Surely you couldn’t fuck that up.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

And yet…you managed to fuck that right up.

It was dark and you weren’t back to Jackson yet and you knew that was wrong. It shouldn't have taken so long to get back. You should have been back already. Somewhere along the line you had either taken a wrong turn or missed a turn but you found yourself wandering aimlessly. It was too quiet out here, not even sounds of nighttime creatures reaching your ears. If there were anything out there with you, they’d probably hear you in a heartbeat. You’d just have to hope that there wouldn’t be any runners or stalkers or worse - clickers. You were glad you’d remembered to stash an extra knife in your boot and still had the shotgun slung across your back. You’d never taken one on your own, but you figured you could manage. You were going to have to.

But you just hoped that you wouldn’t come across everything. You’d just camp out in one of the abandoned buildings you’d found until daybreak and then make your way back. That seemed like the most logical and smart thing to do.

You went to check the front door of the building and, naturally, it was locked. Luckily there was an open window nearby that you figured you could use to get in. Hopefully that was a good sign that nothing else was able to get in either. You jumped the little bit of distance that you needed in order to climb up, catching your hands on the window sill and pulling yourself up. You managed to get in, but suffered a less than graceful landing as you plopped on the ground. And…managed to roll your ankle in the process.

“Fuck,” you cried, clutching at your ankle in pain as you tried to stifle your whimper. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you slowly sat up and tried to massage the pain in your ankle away, “shit, damn it. Fuck!”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you slapped a hand over it to try and keep any further sound at bay. You sat still, and listened for a few moments to make sure you didn’t hear anything. After a few tense, still minutes had passed, you relaxed; it didn’t seem like anything was there with you.

Crawling towards the corner, you made yourself as small as possible, sitting with your back against the concrete wall, and hugging your knees to your chest. Anything to make yourself as small and unimposing as possible. It was probably a stupid idea to sleep, alone and vulnerable, but it had been a long day and you needed some rest. Your eyes grew heavier and heavier and before you knew it you had succumbed to sleep’s siren call.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

By the time your eyes opened up, heavy and dry, it was the morning. Daylight was streaming inside the room and you let out a relieved, but shaky sigh. You’d made it through the night. That in and of itself was a good sign that you’d make it back. It was safer in the light and you might even meet someone from Jackson on the way back.

As you tried to stand up, you quickly remembered what had happened. The stabbing pain your ankle causing you to yelp as you leaned against the wall, using it to help support yourself. Okay, okay, okay - this was going to be trickier than you thought but you’d be able to get yourself out of there. Your survival instinct was stronger than that.

But before you could do anything or plan anything else you heard it. It was your name being called out in the distance. Gooseflesh erupted all over your skin as you tried to pick out the voice. It came closer and closer and it didn’t take long to figure out who it was. Joel. It made your heart jump before you remembered what had happened. You could just - fuck it. You needed him to survive and while you were stubborn among a whole lot of other things, you were willing to put aside.

“Joel!” you held onto the sill so tightly that your knuckles were turning white. You poked your head outside and looked around until you found him a short distance away, “Joel.”

He stopped at the sound of your voice, and you could see the evident relief that washed over his features. He jogged over to you, and you offered him a tentative, nervous little smile. He shook his head when he realized that you were safe, running a hand through his dark hair. Joel exhaled slowly before looking at you, a hard glint to his, “do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” you rolled your eyes lightly.

“This isn’t a game,” his voice sounded between annoyed, worried, and relieved all at once. He reached over and gently touched your face, his hand resting on your cheek, “you thought you could just go off on your own and find your way back? You couldn’t even do that. I got back and you weren’t there. Do you even know what I thought? I-I…”

“I’m okay,” you promised, putting your hand on top of his and giving it what you hoped was a reassuring little squeeze. He wasn’t looking at you, instead looking up at the blue sky. It was almost funny in a way; if you looked up, staring into the bright blue sky, it almost seemed like nothing was wrong and the world was as it had always been, “look at me, please. Joel.”

“I thought something had happened,” he swallowed the lump in his throat as his eyes met yours. There was a hard edge to them, but they were still soft, “I thought I’d fucking lost you.”

“You came back,” you took his hand in yours, admiring the feeling of his calloused fingers against your surprisingly soft skin, “you came back for me.”

“Of course I did,” he said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, “that was never a question. You should have just come with me and none of this would have happened. You stubborn, foolish girl.”

“You…” it all seemed so trivial and silly now. Now that he was back and had come for you, “I…’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just left. Not with my sense of direction.”

“I’m sorry too,” he admitted and you raised an eyebrow in surprise. That was not what you had been expecting to hear. Joel Miller was a hard man and he didn’t generally didn’t experience situations in which he had to apologize, “I shouldn’t have said the things I did.”

“I shouldn’t have just assumed that you and I were…anything,” your voice dropped as you tried to blink back the tears that threatened to well up, “it was stupid of me and ended up causing both a lot of trouble.”

“You are extremely important to me,” his voice was gentle when it broke the silence that had fallen over the two of you. You couldn’t help the small smile that ticked up the corners of your mouth, “even if I didn’t make it seem like it. We’ll…figure it out, okay? But I want you to know that…I…”

“I know,” you did know. You knew exactly what he was trying to convey, exactly what was going through his mind. It was the same thing you were still scared to say, “me too, Joel.”

He brought your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles, “c’mon. Let’s get you back home and we can…go from there.”

“There’s, um…just a small issue with that,” you put on a sheepish smile as Joel looked at you expectantly, “when I found this place last night - the door was locked. I didn’t want to make too much noise so I didn’t try to force it open. Instead, I climbed in through the window.”

“I can get you out of the window-”

“I hurt my ankle.”

“Of course you did.”

“Joel-”

“It’s always something with you,” he tutted at you, but there wasn’t any anger or malice behind the sound, “what am I going to do with you, huh?”

“Keep me around because I keep you on your toes?” you tried and he couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. You looked at him with a gentle smile, “can you help get me out of here?”

“Of course,” he promised, “sprained or broken?”

“I dunno,” you looked at the swollen joint and grimaced, “I think just sprained. But I’m not a doctor so…”

“Kid,” affection laced the nickname that he liked to tease you with. He came closer to the window and held his arms out to you. You quickly wrapped your arms around him, letting him tug you closer to his body before he picked you up and swung you through the window. You thought he would set you down, but he didn’t. Instead he held to you his chest, “you’re okay. I’ve got you.”

“Thank you,” before you could stop yourself you kissed him tenderly on his scruffy cheek, “thank you for coming back for me.”

“I’ll always come back for you,” he promised and you knew he meant it, “always.”

“I know,” you hugged him tightly, “me too. I mean, if the situation were ever reversed. Which I doubt it would be, but you know, the sentiment is there.”

“I know, Kid,” you could feel the laughter vibrating in his chest, “I know."

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #tlou #tlou hbo

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noosayog · 6 months

Text

003 the grudge

✧ wc: 4.1k

✧ warnings/content: itoshi rin x reader, no gendered pronouns used but lease lmk if I missed any! sfw, angst to fluff (hopeful ending), arguments and lots of swearing. another fic where I project bc of messed up things my old romantic partners have said to me, hope y'all enjoy!

✧ GUTS masterlist, regular masterlist

divider from @/cafekitsune

“How come you never ask me how my day is?” you ask. It’s quiet, like you’re scared of how he will respond. But you can’t help it. Every day, when Rin comes home from practice, you’re there to greet him at the door. You always have dinner ready no matter how tired you are. And every day, Rin grunts. On a good day, he gives you a peck on the cheek. On bad days, he throws his gym bag down and heads straight for the bath. Then, he comes to sit at the dinner table and eats silently.

Just once, you’d like him to ask you how your day was. Maybe come home with flowers or a cake from the neighborhood bakery occasionally. You wouldn’t think it too much to ask, but the years of this routine make your question your every thought. You start to forget that being in a relationship shouldn’t consist of you walking on eggshells every day.

Rin looks up from his meal, swallowing before responding, “because you always tell me whether or not I ask.”

It’s a reasonable response. But it’s cold and callous. Not the answer you were looking for.

“But why can’t you just ask?”

He cocks his head. Confused, not annoyed.

Not yet at least.

“Why would I? If there’s something you wanna tell me, just say it.”

“I just want you to want to ask sometimes. Makes me feel less like I’m forcing you to listen to me.”

“You’re not.”

“I know, but that’s not the point.”

“So what’s the point then?”

You recognize the change in his tone. He’s starting to become irritated.

“The point is that I just want you to show you care sometimes. Without having me to ask you to do it.”

“Jesus,” he mutters under his breath, but you hear it loud and clear all the same.

“Is it that unreasonable for me to ask that of you?”

“Fine. How was your day?” he grits out, forcing a smile that looks more like he’s baring his teeth at you.

“Rin, this isn’t what I want.”

He puts his chopsticks down loudly. “You just said that’s what you wanted. So I’m doing it.”

“Not like this, Rin,” you say frustratedly, not sure how else you can communicate. “I just want you to want to be here with me. Act like you’re my boyfriend and that you’re happy to do it.”

“I wouldn’t be here, living with you, if I didn’t. What else do you want from me?”

It’s condescending and patronizing. It makes you feel like you are being the childish one here.

“Is it so hard that once in a while, you do something extra to show it?” you ask, voice small. “Like getting me flowers or even surprising me with a treat from the bakery I like?”

Rin runs a hand down his face, not even bothering to hide how foolish he thinks this conversation is. You feel the sting behind your eyes start to build.

“If you want flowers and a cake or something, just tell me. I’m not a fucking mind reader. How would I know you want those things unless you tell me?”

“I’m not saying I want flowers or a cake specifically. But-”

“Then what do you want!” He's yelling now. “I’m telling you I’ll buy the damn flowers if you ask. You’re always expecting people around you to read your mind. Use your fucking words!”

At that, you shrink away, closing in around yourself as you recall the phone call between the two of you months ago, having very much the same conversation.

“You always expect the people around you to read your mind. Why don’t you use your fucking words when you want something?”

That’s unfair, you think. In every other situation, you would agree. You do have a problem with communicating what you want. You know that. But should you really have to ask to have Rin tell you he loves you once in a while? For him to just show he cares by taking initiative and doing something nice for you? To want him to want to do something for you, even as simple as asking how your day was when he gets home without you having to ask?

But your insecurities get the best of you and objectively, he’s right. You answer in a small voice, “Sorry, Rin.”

There’s silence on the other line and for one second, you think that he’s going to apologize too and the floodgates would open and you two would open up and share everything that’s been building up.

Instead, you hear a click. Rin had cut the line.

When you have nothing else to say, Rin stands up, storming towards the bedroom, muttering, “Jesus, you’re always like this. Don’t start an argument if you can’t finish it.”

The bedroom door slams.

–

Rin is used to silence, prefers it actually. He gets enough noise from the daily racket the Blue Lock team makes. So at night, when he comes home to you, he appreciates the way you let him be. He’s content to sit there, listening to you talk quietly about your day. Your voice is a soothing one in comparison to the rowdy, grating ones of his teammates.

So when you ask him to take initiative to start the conversation sometimes, he’s uncomprehending. Your daily routine is fine as is; don’t his nods and noises of acknowledgement show that he’s listening to you? He gets enough nagging from Isagi and Bachira to talk more; he really doesn’t need to hear it at home too.

He can’t understand what it is you want him to do, because you were the one who strong-armed yourself into his life, persistent in trying to converse with him at the coffee shop you both frequented, until he finally asked you out on a date. You were always the one to initiate conversation.

So when you propose change to the relationship dynamic, Rin feels like you’re throwing a big wrench in the cogs that seem to be working perfectly fine.

After a long, hot shower, Rin goes back into the bedroom, expecting to find you curled up in bed. Rin isn’t worried. Regardless of whether you were still sulking or ready to go back to your usual self, he knows from experience that he just needs to reach his arms out and you would be eagerly pushing yourself into his side of the bed to get as close as you possibly can.

But when he enters the bedroom, the room is empty and the beddoor he slammed shut before remains closed. It’s then that he hears some shuffling in the living room, a couple of muffled sniffles and the quiet click of a door shutting. That wasn’t the sound of the spare bedroom door. That’s the sound of the front door.

Immediately, Rin bolts out to the kitchen. There, he finds all the dishes cleaned and put away, the dining table wiped down. You are not to be found.

Waves of frustration wash over him again. If you were going to be so upset about this, why won’t you just come find him and tell him? Rin thinks you could not have proved his point from your earlier argument any better than just up and leaving in a tantrum.

He should call, he thinks. If it were him, he’d just prefer space, quiet, and some alone time, but knowing you, he thinks you’d appreciate at least a gesture.

No, he rethinks. Just give them some time to calm down.

Pushing down the wave of worry, he slumps onto the couch, telling himself you’ll come home soon. The seconds drag by like hours so he puts on game footage to rewatch to pass the time. The seconds do not pass by any quicker as he continues to glance at his phone between plays.

Finally, he can’t handle it anymore and dials your number. The line rings once, twice, then he hears buzzing from the kitchen. Rin walks towards the source of the sound and finds your phone on the kitchen counter. It sits there, the buzzing continuing, mocking him.

Rin lets it ring for a couple of moments longer before he grabs a coat and bolts out the door.

Stupid! Who leaves without their phones?

It’s well after sunset and dark outside. Even if the two of you live in a nice neighborhood, you should know better than to wander around by yourself after dark. Without your phone no less.

How long has it been since you’ve left?

As he runs by all the convenience stores in the area and the minutes go by without being able to find you, his irritation at your irresponsibleness morphs into guilt. He should’ve come out much sooner to find you, shouldn’t have let you cry by yourself. Now you’re out somewhere, crying all alone on the night streets of Tokyo. Irrational panic wells up in his chest at the thought of someone taking advantage of your vulnerable state.

When he exhausts all of his options, he sighs, knowing the only place left unchecked is one of your friend's places. The same friends who he knows dislike him. The same ones who think you can do better.

He reluctantly pulls out his phone to give your friends a call; if they pick up, he’ll come get you and the two of you will go home together. But the first thing that greets him is a text saying you’re fine and that you are indeed at a friend’s place to crash for the night. Unsure of where that leaves him, he returns to your shared apartment.

And as Rin sits with the sterile kitchen and unusual quiet of the space, for the first time ever, he really contemplates the idea of you finding someone better. He dimly remembers a similar conversation the two of you had, perhaps over the phone a while back? Through all the years he has known you, he supposes it is a habit of yours to want things without vocalizing them. Like the times the two of you are watching a movie together and you look between his cup of tea and the kitchen until he gets the hint to go make you a cup. Or when you’re eating together and you stare at his plate until he spoons some of whatever he’s having into your waiting mouth. Rin’s not too sure how those unremarkable situations are different from what happened at dinner tonight.

And while Rin has never minded taking care of you and learning all the ins and outs of your body language, he’s realizing that these little things that rarely register in his mind may have been snowballing in yours.

But on days when he comes home, totally spent from practice, he acknowledges that he won’t be able to put the effort into fulfilling your unsaid desires. And that’s almost every day.

So as he sits on the couch, visualizing a life of yours without him, he thinks it might be for the best. He waits at home for you. When you come home, the two of you can have a mature conversation about a future where you are with someone who can make you happy.

–

It’s late morning when you return home, unsurprisingly but not unexpectedly finding the apartment empty. Rin has gone to practice.

You berate yourself for even wishing for one moment that Rin would have skipped practice to wait for you.

You suppose it’s like all your expectations of Rin: things piling up that you wish he would do but you never ask him for.

You busy yourself cleaning, reading, watching TV, napping. The day passes by painfully slowly. You finally hear the click of the front door right as you finish preparing dinner – an elaborate meal of Rin’s favorites as your way of meeting him in the middle.

You greet him at the door and after he takes off his shoes and drops his bag, he meets your eyes. There’s no detectable expression; he doesn’t look particularly surprised, upset, nor happy to see you at home waiting for you.

What he does do, however, is walk up to you and pull you into his arms.

His gesture overwhelms you. It’s not exactly what you’ve been asking for, but it’s enough. You sniffle lightly into his jacket. He just holds you and you let him – it’s precisely what you want and need.

After a while of the two of you simply standing together in the entryway, your arms around his waist remain tight as you ask, “what are you thinking about, Rin?”

He’s silent but squeezes your shoulders.

A smile overtakes your lips. That’s when you remember you had prepared dinner for him. This seems like an appropriate time to offer it up as an apology, but Rin doesn’t seem to be ready to move.

You let go, intending to lead him to the dinner table, but even as your arms unwind from around him, his hold remains tight.

“Rin?”

“I’m thinking about how I’m going to let you go.”

You freeze.

Rin doesn’t say anything more. He lets the words hang in the air and no matter how long the two of you stand there, the words don’t change.

“I thought you came home to make up with me,” you say.

Rin still refuses to let go. “I’ve thought about it,” he says quietly, slowly. “I think I finally get what you want from me. But I can’t give you that. I can’t be different and that might mean that I can’t be what you want. At least not in an emotional partner.”

You shove him away. “You don’t know that! How can you know what I want! I never-”

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about. I don’t think I can give you what you want without needing you to ask for it. And I think you deserve someone who can.”

You shake your head, different tears rearing to make an appearance. “You said it yourself, Rin. You’re not a mind-reader. I know I have to do a better job of telling you when I…”

He shakes his head too.

“No, I don’t think you’re asking too much. I think you’re completely right. But I can’t do it. There’s definitely someone else out there who can do it for you.”

“If it’s not too much to ask, then why can’t you try! Why are you just giving up? You’re so unwilling to try that you’d rather break up?!”

You’re hysterical at this point. Rin’s calm demeanor just makes it worse.

“I love you,” Rin says solemnly. “but I can’t keep hurting you like this. Especially when I know I can’t change.”

Rin says every word deliberately, with finality. Every word drains more and more fight from you.

“Cant? Or won’t?”

Rin only meets your gaze steadily.

There are no more words, no more fight you have left. What more can you do but say okay?

–

For Rin, everything has gone exactly as he had expected. He would go even as far as to say that the night the two of you agreed to break up, he slept dreamlessly. He went to practice the following day and performed just as usual. He had dinner alone, but he’s no longer in a position to wonder where you spent dinner and so he cleans up and showers and falls into another fitless sleep.

It’s only when the weekend comes around that something starts to stir.

As agreed, you decide to move out despite Rin offering the apartment to you. It was a strange feeling when you had told him the apartment had too many memories for you to remain in it alone. He has never thought of it that way before, associating a tangible thing to an intangible feeling, unless it was a soccer ball flying into a goal.

Sae had come over to help you move out.

During your years of dating, Rin was aware that you and his older brother got along well. While your friendship with his brother had never really bothered him, he had also never considered you closer to Sae than he, himself, to Sae.

So he finds it uncomfortable that Sae is the one helping you leave.

But despite his initial reservations, the morning goes by uneventfully, the two brothers packing your things away into boxes.

After lunch, you decide to join Sae to pack your half of the kitchen while Rin takes the bathroom. It takes him less than 30 minutes to separate all your items from his, a variety of colorful bottles and jars that he’s never touched. It takes even less time to pack them away into one single plastic container.

Something strikes Rin in the gut when he realizes how easy it is to pack years into a single box. Unable to shake the punching feeling in his gut, he picks up a bottle of lotion that has been untouched by either of you for years to ask if you’d like to take it. He could care less about the lotion but he needs to walk away from the unfamiliar sight of the sink now only decorated with a sparse scattering of his grey-tone products.

When he turns the corner to the kitchen, he sees you sitting on the counter, dictating items for Sae to grab from the cabinets. The domesticity between the two of you in his home makes the punchy feeling he wants to run from punch harder.

He watches Sae point at a matching set of mugs, ones that Rin remembers easily. He surprises himself with how easily the memory of those mugs resurfaces: a vivid image of the two of you in a home goods store picking your first couple’s mugs. You shake your head and Sae moves to the next items in the cabinet. Rin’s gut wrenches at how easily you make your decision to leave those mugs behind.

The next items are a set of glasses the two of you had bought as a souvenir on a weekend trip to Osaka. They weren’t matching, one of the glasses littered with various cute images associated with Osaka and the other with only printed lettering of “Osaka” on it. Despite the contrasting designs, he remembers you putting the glasses that each of you individually picked out together and squealing over how they look like a matching set. He didn’t understand then but as he watches you direct Sae to pack the glass with the cute images and leave the glass with the simple lettering, he starts to understand. His glass gets left in the cabinets.

When the cabinet has been picked and chosen through to your liking, Sae moves over to where you’re sat on the counter and offers his hand to help you off. You take it and hop off. The scene that unfolds next is what finally makes Rin realize that the uncomfortable feeling in his chest is akin to that of a heart attack, no, even more pedestrian – jealousy.

He watches as your expression crumbles and you bury your face into your hands. It hits him that it’s the first time he has seen you cry after the breakup. And on instinct, he begins to walk to where you are to offer comfort, but it’s Sae who wraps one arm around you and runs his hands up and down your arm.

It strikes Rin then.

It's one thing to think about letting you go be with someone who is the partner you deserve.

It's another to actually do it and see it. It's another thing to go through with it.

And the most jarring realization today is that maybe Rin is more capable of what he had originally thought. Maybe he can’t read your mind, but the years of being with you, living with you, loving you, has taught him that he can understand you without needing you to say anything.

Like right now. Sae has one arm around your trembling figure, pulling you into his side, but what you really want is someone who will wrap both arms around your shoulders. You’d push your damp face into the nearest neck or collarbone when one arm comes up to cradle your head. You’d whimper when the one holding your nuzzles their face against your hair. It’s muscle memory.

For both you and him.

And just like that, Rin changes his mind.

He charges onto the scene.

“I’ll take it from here.”

–

“I’ll take it from here.”

Sae lifts his arm from your shoulder, but by instinct, you cower, stepping behind him, just enough to hide your face. It takes you a few seconds to pull yourself together, school your expression to face Rin. When you look up, you find that the brothers have come to some sort of silent understanding, Sae nodding and patting your head before vacating the apartment, leaving you and Rin and the thick haze of tension.

Sae forgotten, you swipe messily at your face one last time for stray tears, playing it off as wiping the sweat from your forehead.

You turn back to the cabinets, busying yourself by reaching up for the remaining mugs. “We almost finished the kitchen. I just need to go through a couple more cupboards and…”

“Hey.”

You feel him before you hear him. Rin is all up in your space, one hand resting on the counter to your left, caging you against the counter.

“Stop,” his commanding voice tells you.

You turn around.

“Can I take it back?” he asks.

You fluster.

“Oh! Um,” you respond, voice startlingly loud. “The mugs? Which one did you want to keep? I didn’t mean to take-”

“Not that,” he stops your rambling. “Can I take what I said back? About breaking up. I want to take it all back.”

He pries the mug from between your fingers and sets it back into its home in the cupboards.

“What does ‘take it back’ mean?” you squeak out.

“It means I don’t want to break up anymore.”

Your mouth moves faster than your brain.

“You can’t just take a break up back.”

“So how can I do it then? I’ll do anything.”

“You can’t!” you raise your voice then. “You just… can’t.” the last word uttered as a whisper.

“Yes, we can. Tell me what to do. I’m sorry. Sorry. I know you do a lot for me and I thought I couldn’t do that for you. But I know I can. I can do it better than anyone else. So please, let me take it back.”

“Do you even know what we were arguing about in the first place? Do you remember that one time, so long ago, you said the same thing to me over the phone? To use my fucking words? Well maybe you don’t, but I remember every word.”

“I remember,” he says honestly. “And I’m sorry I said it that way. So much that it hurt you. So much that you still remember the exact words I said to you. But I don’t need to read your mind.

“Though I would like you to tell me explicitly what you like sometimes,” he adds thoughtfully.

“But, I’ve loved you for long enough now that I don’t need to read your mind to know what you need. Maybe I won’t always know what you want, so I’ll still need you to tell me sometimes, but I always know what you need.”

A lot of the things Rin says are very matter of fact and this is no different. He knows before you do that you’ll give in.

He closes the small distance and pulls you into a tight embrace. It’s enough to open the floodgates.

“Do you even know how many hours I’ve spent practicing arguments against you in my head? In the shower, in the car, when I’m getting ready for bed? You can’t just say a few sorry’s and think it’s enough.”

“Mhm,” he nods, cradling your head in a way you know he knows makes you the most vulnerable.

“I make you feel so guilty in my imagination. I don’t want to feel like that anymore,” you sob.

“Yeah,” he says, continuing to stroke your hair.

“And you can’t talk to me like that anymore.”

“I won’t,” he promises.

He lets you soak his shirt with tears and after what feels like hours, you finally bring your hands up to clutch tightly at his shirt.

“So how was your day?” he asks.

You pinch his sides. “Not now, idiot.”

You hear him chuckle a bit, the vibrations against your body comforting. He continues holding you, though, just the way you know he knows you like.

#noos writes #blue lock angst #blue lock fluff #bllk angst #bllk fluff #blue lock x you #blue lock x reader #bllk x y/n #bllk x you #bllk x reader #itoshi rin #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin x y/n #rin itoshi #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi rin angst

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ak4e7a · 4 months

Text

i hate valentine’s day — boyfriend!hoon x reader

It's pretty self-explanatory. But one person is determined to change your mind.

wc: 2.1k (this was supposed to be short and then i blinked and now i’m here)

cw: fluff, slight angst if you read it sideways i guess, smut, virgin!reader, unprotected sex, lots of pet names bc hoon is a loverboy end of story

author's note: WHEEWWW my first full drabble on here! i hope y'all enjoy and please please please let me know if you do <3 likes and comments and reblogs are super appreciated ♡ happy Valentine's Day!

It’s just a capitalist holiday designed to sell flowers and chocolates and give people a reason to start a fight in their already unhappy relationship. Your friends had heard you say that time and time again, year after year, and they were almost wholeheartedly convinced that you really did not enjoy a holiday centered around love.

The truth, however, was the opposite. You loved it—the pink hearts, the stuffed animals, the candy, the red roses, the romantic gestures. You were just… bitter that you’d been spending all of the past Valentine’s days with a card and a bar of your favorite chocolate that your mom would either give to you in person or mail to your apartment once you’d moved out for college.

You didn’t want to be one of those people that liked Valentine’s Day with a nonchalance about themselves and droned on and on about how it could also be interpreted as a day of “self-love”. You could do a lot of self-love with a rose toy and an hour of uninterrupted time locked in your room. But a rose toy wouldn’t be able to laugh at a rom-com with you, and you’d probably get looked at funny if you walked around the mall holding it in your hand for everyone to gawk at.

Did you hate seeing happy couples? Maybe.

Did that hate go away once you found yourself somehow in a relationship with the quiet boy from your statistics class? The boy who you, at first, thought seemed cold and uninterested in anything but the assignments? Just a little bit.

You told Sunghoon last week that he didn’t have to do anything, that he shouldn’t waste his paycheck from his part-time campus job on gifts when it wasn’t even Christmas or your birthday, and he’d already gotten you something for your 100 day anniversary a month ago, anyways. You hammered it home with the same speech that you’d given your friends since you learned what capitalism was.

And all he did was nod his head with a thoughtful, “Hmm,” and adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose before you turned as red as the roses you’d hope he’d still get you anyways and went back to typing away at your laptop, allowing the white noise of the library to drown out your racing thoughts.

Now it’s the morning of the 14th, and you wake up in your bed, alone. You sigh, maybe Sunghoon had gone home already even though neither of you have a class today. Trudging to the bathroom, you brush your teeth and wash your face before returning to bed to sulk and stare at the wall.

You mentally kicked yourself, this was your fault, why did you tell your first and only boyfriend you didn’t give a shit about Valentine’s Day—a holiday primarily meant for couples? Now, if you were lucky and your relationship happens to last until next year, would the next Valentine’s Day also go uncelebrated? What about your one-year anniversary? What about—

And then your door creaks open. And you scream.

Sunghoon screams, too, almost dropping the mountain of bags he’s holding.

“Why are you screaming?” Sunghoon yells, stumbling to regain his balance as he walks towards the bed. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“Because I was under the assumption that I was alone in the house!” you exclaim, although now your fear is mixed with excitement as you scan his muscled arms wrapped around all the stuff he’s carrying.

“Oh,” he says, more quiet now. “You thought I left and wouldn’t come back?”

“Yeah,” you reply sheepishly. “I thought… I thought…”

“That I wouldn’t do anything for Valentine’s Day just because you went on that long-ass tirade in the library last week?”

You frown, eyebrows knitted together. But you’re not upset at him, no, the entire reason you let yourself fall for him was because he was always so understanding. You could feel yourself falling even more because he didn’t fall for your pathetic attempt at being a “chill, low-maintenance” girlfriend. “I don’t deserve you,” you say.

Sunghoon sets the bags on the rug beside your bed and sits beside you, immediately pulling you into his embrace. “That’s not true. You put up with a loser like me.”

“Hey,” you sniffle. “You’re my loser. Which makes you not-a-loser.”

“Alright,” he chuckles. “Whatever you say.”

You like him. You like him so much. You like the way he dresses (including his glasses), you like every single different cologne he uses, you like the way his hair falls in his face, you like the way he scrunches his nose when you offer him a bite of your mint choco ice cream, you like the way he accepts the chocolate toothpaste taste because it makes you happy to share snacks with him. You like the way he switches to his wired earphones instead of his big headphones when he studies with you so you can listen to music with him when you study. You like him. You like him a lot. In fact, you—

“I love you,” you blurt out, and the wide-eyed look he gives you makes you slap your hand over your mouth in some sort of vain attempt to get the words back in where they came from.

But just like toothpaste, once it’s squeezed out of the tube, you can’t put it back in.

Unless, of course, you had a syringe or a pipette or something but that’s neither here nor there, because you just told Park Sunghoon, your former statistics partner, Park Sunghoon, the best part-time barista on campus, Park Sunghoon, your (somewhat) new boyfriend, that you love him for the first time.

And to make it extra corny, you’ve told him on Valentine’s Day, the day you’ve adamantly lied about hating.

Sunghoon finally grins, his pearly white teeth (that you also like so much) on full display. “I knew it.”

“What?”

“I knew you liked Valentine’s Day, you little liar,” he teases, playfully flicking your forehead.

“Ugh,” you groan, falling back on your pillows. “Go home for real this time if you’re going to gloat.”

Sunghoon crawls over you, his face inches away from yours. “For the record, though, I love you, too. Lies and all.”

“Sunghoon,” you whine, trying to push at his chest. “Stop embarrassing me!”

“Sorry, sorry.” As he presses apologetic kisses to your cheek, you feel something else press against your leg.

“Hoon,” you repeat. “Are you seriously hard right now?”

“Yeah, ‘cause my girlfriend just told me she loves me.”

You smile. “Really? You’re easier than I—”

He shuts you up with a kiss. Then two. Then three. Then four. Then finally it evolves into a full-on makeout session, with your hands tangled in his hair and his hips nestled between your thighs. His glasses are on your nightstand; he’d taken them off after they were getting in his way of kissing you.

“Want it,” you murmur, as if you didn’t just tease your boyfriend for being easy to turn on. “Wanna do it...”

You figure since you’ve already confessed your feelings, losing your virginity to your boyfriend who you’re definitely madly in love with is a good idea. (Spoiler: it is.)

Now he hovers over you, looking at you with hearts in his eyes. "Relax for me, okay, baby? It's gonna hurt a little bit. Just say the word and I'll stop."

"O-okay, Hoonie."

He plants a soft kiss on your forehead before taking his shaft in his hand, pumping it twice before lining it up with your entrance. "Gonna put my cock in you now, baby... oh... ah, fuck... 's better than I imagined... So tight, even after I've prepped you... You're squeezing around my tip, you okay, sweetheart?"

You nod, biting your lip as he stretches you with his thick girth. "'M okay, Hoonie, 's just big, so big..."

"You're being such a good girl for me, baby. 'M gonna push it all the way inside you now, okay? Just breathe." One of his hands skims down your body, reaching in between you two to stroke at your clit. The pleasurable friction against your nerves dulls out the pain of him breaking your hymen, but you cry out nonetheless.

"Ah! Hoonie, it hurts," you whimper, your chest heaving and nails digging into his back.

"'M sorry, baby, we can stop now if you want. I don't mind—"

"No!! No, please, just... don't move yet, please? Need t'get used to—fuck—you inside..."

"Alright, baby. I'll keep still." He kisses your cheek, petting your hair gently. Then he looks down at you, straight into your eyes. He's so beautiful, it's mesmerizing. "You're such a good girl, aren't you? So pretty and perfect for me... you're getting my cock so wet, baby. Want me to make you cum like this? Make you feel better?"

"Y-yes please!"

He leans back until his head is just above where you’re connected, and you watch his abs flex in that position. He spits on your clit, rubbing it in slow, languid circles. Softly, he asks, "you're such a sweet little girl, anything else you want, love?"

You clench around him at the pet name, your entire body flushing with warmth. "Um... can you... um..."

"Oh, I know," he smirks, his free hand moving up to toy with your nipples. "Does it feel good with my cock inside you, baby? Gonna cum while you're stuffed full of me?"

"Yes, so good, Hoonie, thank you!" You squirm a little, unintentionally grinding yourself against his dick, and the movement makes him groan.

"Fuck," he says under his breath. "You're so cute... and you're so hot, you don't even know it... that's it, pretty girl, cum whenever you want. you earned it."

"Hoonie," you keen, back arching off the bed as you orgasm around him. "can you m-move, please?"

"Yeah, baby, you like being stretched by me? Gonna let me fuck you open, sweetheart?"

"Y-yeah... y'can move now, Hoonie."

"God," he chokes out, thrusting shallowly. "You're sucking me in so good, baby." He puts a hand over your lower abdomen, pressing down. "Can you feel me right there?"

You squeal as the tip of his dick rubs firmly against your g-spot. "Y-yes! 'S big, so big, hoonie!"

“You're so tight, princess, gonna make me cum so soon already, fuck, pussy feels like heaven..."

"So... big," you gasp, staring up at him in adoration. He's so handsome.

He reaches down and tenderly cups your cheek before leaning in and kissing you softly. "Taking me like a good girl, baby... 'm I making you feel good?"

“Yes, yes,” you manage to stutter out, legs wrapping around his slender waist.

"Gonna cum... need to pull out, baby, can I cum—fuck! Can I cum on you, baby, please?"

"Yes! Yesyesyes! Cum on me, Hoonie, wanna feel it!"

"Where... where do you want my cum, princess?" he pants, sliding his cock out of you and stroking himself.

"Cum on my pussy, Hoonie!"

He groans, and the two of you look down and watch as he cums right over your core, the milky essence dripping down onto the bed. Despite the mess, he immediately lies down beside you, pulling you into his arms like you’re about to go back to sleep.

You feel good. Maybe better than good. Definitely better than good. You can hear his heartbeat when you rest your head on his chest.

“Aw, fuck,” Sunghoon mutters into the crown of your head. “I think the ice in your drink melted.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I went out to get your gifts from my apartment, and I got you an iced matcha from that one place you like on the way back.”

“I’ll drink it anyways… but you didn’t have to get me any gifts,” you mumble, still trying to stay true to your lie, even though Sunghoon has already seen right through it. But you definitely mean the next sentence. “Just spending the day with you is enough for me.”

“I know, I know. But I wanted to. I never want you to feel like I only do things for you because you ask me to. I want you to know that I do them because I love you.”

Okay. Maybe you really did hate Valentine’s Day before.

But not anymore. You feel good. You feel great. You’re loved, and you’re in love.

You look up at him and he kisses you on the forehead before you repeat, “I love you, too.”

#sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #sunghoon hard thoughts #sunghoon hard hours #enha smut #🀄️drabbles #sunghoon x reader

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chrollohearttags · 1 year

Note

oh nufffinnnn just thinking bout eren telling reader to “stop running” and to “move her hand”

why? Whyyyy would y’all do this to meeeee? 😫 knees just buckled and everything (and not just because one of them is out of place)

content warning/themes: bsf eren bc im obsessed now, black fem reader (plus size descriptors) missionary, mentions of nudes, back scratching, hair pulling, daddy’s used, pet names (pretty girl, mama) creaming, full nelson

“ ‘Ren!—Eren, okaaayy! Ooh, you win!”

crying out in a fussy huff as your once best friend turned lover hovered the entirety of his six foot three slender frame towered over yours. A firm grip from both hands keeping your feet pent back near your head and your legs wide open..perfect for him to fuck you as he saw fit. How exactly had you landed yourself in such a position? Well..

“I know. I always do, baby. So I don’t know why you play like I can’t handle your fine ass..talking about ‘you don’t even know what to do with me’…out ‘your fucking mind. And I told you to stop tryna’ run because you’re not going anywhere. Take this fucking dick like a good girl. You can do that, can’t you?”

once again, silly banter ensued between you two and he yet again, had to prove you wrong. It wasn’t long after he had exited basketball practice and an intense workout; still pent up with energy and plenty of arousal..especially after you sent him some rather salacious messages. The two of you weren’t certain if you were ready to put a label on things but you were damn sure having a ball engaging in activities that couples would. Like calling one another pet names, even around other people. This time, he just so happened to be changing in front of his two closest homeboys when you FaceTimed…fresh out the shower, wrapped in a towel and looking good as fuck! The thoughts that ran through his head were not ones that he should have around other people. He had to all but restrain himself from getting hard right there in that locker room. And you didn’t make matters worse when he got to his car and you had sent him nudes. “I’m at practice right now, mama, I gotta call you back.” Videos of you playing with that pretty pussy, telling him to come stretch you out instead. Taunting him with mentions of being too tired to handle you. Watching cream drip all down those fingers..and the sound of wetness while that sexy voice moaned his name and called him daddy? You had to pay for that! So he cleared up any confusion when he stopped by your apartment, keys still in hand when you strutted out in nothing more than an anklet, white painted toes and a bonnet. Dropping to your knees to devour his dick where he stood. Spitting, slurping and sucking him off as if you lacked a gag reflex. He couldn’t believe how nasty you got for him..it was treatment he could get used to! Which in turn, swiftly got you hoisted up in the air and fucked into oblivion, right there in that living room. Only now, he was getting his lick back for your earlier commentary.

“You so deep in this fucking pussy, daddy…I—I’m sorrryyy.”

attempting to tap at his abs and push him away.. to which he’d only laugh, slapping it out of the way with minimal force because you were so depleted. He’d slow down his thrusts just a tad because maybe he had been fucking your shit up. But you weren’t done yet, he was sure and neither was he. You were going to eat your words. Slowly circling that clit with his thumb pad, he’d coo to you with the other palm on your cheek, finally releasing the grip on your legs..

“Yeah? You’re sorry? Afraid I can’t accept that, pretty girl…imma need you to come for me at least two more times before I can forgive you..”

it was in that moment that you realized what type of demon you were truly messing with! Leaning down, he’d spit into your slippery folds and keep pumping that cock in and out. “Oh my God, I can’t stand youuuu..shit!” Laughing as you glared up at one another, laughing and enjoying the moment. But you weren’t getting let off of the hook so easily!

“And move that hand, you’re not slick..you’re getting all this dick. Show me you can handle it.”

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neowinestainedress · 8 months

Text

between us — johnny suh

title: between us

pairing: professor!johnny x lawyer!oc x fem!reader | husband!johnny x wife!oc x fem!reader

summary: you find yourself tangled in the life of the Suhs after Mr. Suh starts working as an English professor at your father’s university. You don’t understand why they float around you so much, but soon enough, you can’t get enough of that secret, dirty game anymore.

genre: smut, fluff, plot, mxfxf, married couple, established relationship, age gap, bisexual characters, aged up johnny (to his early 30)

warnings: age gap, daddy/mommy issues, smut, sexual tension, 3some, mxfxf, dom/sub dynamics, mdom, fdom(oc), fsub(reader), mentions of s*x toys, unprotected s*x, pet names (honey, babe, doll...), or*l s*x (reader receiving and fem giving), fing*ring (reader receiving and fem giving), n!pple play, dirty talk, praise, minor degradation, size k!nk, 1 face slap, 1 *ss slap, 1 cl!t slap, hair pulling, talks of face f*cking, dp and face sitting, sub space, overstimulation, reader goes non-verbal at the end, aftercare | inclusivity notes: reader’s hair can be grabbed bc i’m degenerated and needed to write hair pulling during or*l, there are no descriptions of the texture and type tho, reader wears hair in different hairstyles (not specified), reader feels small because she’s shorter than them and in general feels ‘intimidated’ (body type is not specified), no use of y/n

visuals

wc: 16.590k

a/n: i’m sure this isn’t what people were expecting when i talked about writing mxfxf, but what can i say, this idea came to me and i had to write it. at first, it was supposed to be less complicated, just hot steamy sex with two hot almost-dilf-and-milf but you know me by now, if it’s not deep and complicated we don’t write it here. disclaimer: they are all bi and this is not just a straight couple using a bisexual person to spice up their s*xual life, i can’t say more because i don’t want to spoil anything but i just wanted to make this clear. i hope you’ll enjoy, if you do please leave feedback with asks or reblog (so the story reaches more people) also this is the first time i write smut between two women so please let me know if it’s good!! love u ♡

The Suhs are by now a known presence in your life. Since Mr. Suh started teaching at your father’s university, it became almost impossible to not see him for more than two days straight.

You don’t feel like blaming your father. Actually, you get it. Mr. Suh is a charming, brilliant man in his early thirties. After years of studying and being an assistant, he started teaching English literature at another prestigious university, the one your father is president of. And in his free time —and you wonder how he did that— he even wrote a few books, the first ones being analyses of writers’ works, and then a successful mystery novel.

You like him, even if he intimidates you a bit. He’s a person you can have interesting conversations with, maybe too interesting. You can’t understand what hides behind his elegant attire; either suits and ties or brown pants and polos or vests, his brown hair is always pulled back, only occasionally some loose strands fall on his forehead and make him appear less put together. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him dressed casually, or crack a joke, but then again, it’s not really your place to know.

But Mr. Suh, also known as Johnny, is never alone when he comes to your parents’ house, or tags along at dinners, parties, and more, anything that your father likes to organize with his academic clique.

His wife, Aaliyah Taylor Suh, is always with him. She’s not less interesting or intimidating than him. Mrs. Suh is a drop-dead gorgeous woman in her early thirties like her husband. She’s an amazing lawyer, working at one of the top firms in the city, and probably that’s also why she comes off as piercing to you, it’s like she always knows what to say and do, and you struggle to keep up. And just like her husband, it’s also in the way she presents herself; she’s always perfect with her long goddess braids that reach her waist which is always perfectly hugged by the beautiful, expensive suits or dresses she wears.

This should pretty much sum up why you don’t talk much with them, even if they’re nice —at least it seems from the few conversations you had— you don’t feel at their level. Not only do they look like gods in your eyes, but they also fit the perfect stereotype of the rich, powerful couple that makes heads turn around every time they walk into a room —yours included— and the small, yet significant, age gap only makes it worse.

It would be easier to talk with them if your father wouldn’t constantly remind you that. He always had a passion to turn you and your dreams down, but since they are part of your life, it only worsened. Your father never misses the occasion to point your flaws out; how clumsy you are, walking around and stumbling on your own feet, dropping things every now and then, and messing up your words during speeches. Instead, he’s amazed by their brains and how quickly they became successful, they spent years on books and still never lost each other and found time to get married, they accomplished everything you haven’t, and it seems impossible for him to not slam it in your face.

And you agree, partially. You envy them. They seem to always be at the right place, at the right time, never saying a word wrong, and always looking straight out of Vogue. You’re also jealous of their love, you don’t know what a stable relationship looks like —not that you care to know, nobody your age seems to be doing it for you— unlike their stable, lasting marriage that is the deal closing off a just as long period of dating. They were high-school sweethearts, and you envy the way they still look at each other. Nobody ever looked at you like that, as if you meant the world to them. And you don’t understand how they survived all these years, you almost went insane during college, the two relationships you tried to have failed like a ship sinking in a storm. And now that you’re free, you’re still suffering the aftermath of all the stress you’ve been through.

So you struggle to understand why they circle around you like moths to a flame.

It all started months ago. At first, it was only longing gazes, you could always feel them on you, and you always thought that there was something wrong with you; your make-up smudged, your hair out of place, your clothes dirty or crumpled up, but, even if you weren’t like them, there was nothing wrong with you.

Then, one night, things started to make more sense.

It was late, around 10 pm. As much as you couldn’t stand your father, you tried to tag along as much as possible to find some connections career-wise. You could’ve asked him a favour —doubting he would do it— but you had no intention of making him take credit for your future. You preferred talking with his academic friends or critics on your own, it hadn’t been successful yet, but you won’t give up.

You were standing in the kitchen, a glass in hand as you tried to drown in the alcohol and forget every word you had heard from your father when Mr. Suh approached you first.

“Tiring, isn’t it?” Mr. Suh’s voice brought you back to reality. His build, tall form leaning against the fridge as he stared at you with a small smirk on his face, his hair was falling a bit more freely since the gel had given up after the whole night —day, you’d dare to say, you’re not so sure he had time to go back home and get ready for this dinner again.

You tried not to get lost in his beauty and swiftly hummed, nodding. “Yeah, but at least the wine is good.”

Mr. Suh snickered, starting to walk over to you, a hand in his hair as he shook it back. “Pinot?”

Your eyes moved up in his, he was standing so close you could feel his breath hit your face, and you struggled to find the words. Throat dry and hands so sweaty you were sure you would’ve dropped the glass on the ground. “Yeah, Pinot, or at least, I think so,” you mumbled, giggling awkwardly as you looked down and took a step back, trying to put some distance between you two.

“Can I have a taste?” He asked, tilting his head to the side, his piercing gaze staring right into your soul.

You should’ve told him that surely there were some glasses left outside, or maybe opted to take a look in the wine rack behind him, but you didn’t, and your hand moved to his almost right away.

You watched him smile in a ‘thank you,’ before his lips met the glass, alcohol pouring down his throat, a bit too messily for his usual put-together act, a drop dripping on his chin against his tan skin.

Mr. Suh smiled, humming happily as he handed the —almost empty— glass back to you. “As imagined, my favourite,” he winked.

“Oh, good — good. I — I like it too,” you slurred, panicking and feeling so small. And guilty because something about all of this felt so wrong and dirty and you immediately thought of Mrs. Taylor. Was Johnny flirting or were you too horny to think straight? They were a perfect couple, they couldn’t be cheating, right?

So, you scrolled your head, and said goodbye to him, quickly walking out of the room with the excuse ‘you were sure your father was looking for you’ but in reality, you just needed a breath of fresh air.

Unfortunately, it didn’t stop there. You would find yourself alone with Mr. Suh more than you wished to, and he was always so subtle with everything that you started to think you were going insane. He couldn’t have possibly brushed his hand against yours as he walked by your side to go to his wife, right? And he couldn’t have willingly rested a hand on your lower back when he walked behind you, trying to make way to get to your father? And why would he call you ‘honey’ with that sweet, intoxicating, slightly condescending tone, and only when you two were alone? His voice was always sensual, but you could swear it would drop even lower when he had you alone in the kitchen or in the library you spent some much time in, lecturing you about some poem or book, watching as you hung from his lips.

Anyway, you thought you could deal with it, you would only see him when your dad invited them, and even if it was a lot, you could stick with your mother —a slightly more likeable presence to you that wasn’t best friend with the Suhs.

Things worsened when Mrs. Suh started talking to you. The first, serious, conversation was about a pretty boring thing, some case she was working on. But there was something in the way she talked to you, laughing as she dismissed the conversation and simply stared into your eyes before asking to talk about yourself. Unlike her husband, she was curious, almost as if she wanted to get deep into you and discover things you probably didn’t even know about yourself.

And you froze. You had nothing to say. Everything that came to your mind was either too boring or too wild to be known to her.

“So? Too many secrets to hide?” She joked, showing you her pearly white teeth before winking.

“No, uhm,” you mumbled, trying to find the words, but losing them again when your eyes fell on her hands, golden jewellery shining on her fingers as they wrapped around the flute so delicately and yet sensually before she brought the glass to her full lips tinted with dark purple. Your head snapped up, trying to control your breath and not show the erratic movements of your chest, and squeezing your thighs together for some reason. “I’m working. Yes, busy working and trying to survive my dad.” Busy. You wrote for a small magazine online that paid you dust; reason why you were back living with your parents and kept writing your book, hoping to finish it and publish it one day and get the chance to be as far as possible from that house.

She smirked, and you could see it wasn’t because she was happy with your answer but almost as if she was having the time of her life at the way you were acting. “So, work and dad make you, you?”

“No,” you replied right away, slightly offended too. “I thought we were talking about… about things… happening now.”

A low chuckle rolled out of her lips, “I’d love to get to know you better, you know? Your family is so outgoing, they can’t keep anything in, but you…” she paused, eyes looking at you up and down, “you’re so secretive, reserved, like a candy to unwrap.”

You gulped, fearing she had the wrong idea about you and her husband and was planning a way to kill you. Aaliyah wasn’t stupid, of course she had seen the way Johnny talked to you and, worse, the way you reacted. She was also a lawyer, a brilliant one, you doubt some of her clients were even innocent and yet they got away with everything, she could stand up for herself in court, and Johnny would find a poetic way to get rid of your body and turn this into the plot of his next success.

“I… I…”

“You should spend some time with us,” she said, smiling, crossing her legs and moving her braids behind, showing her cleavage, “you know, at our place, alone. No family getting in the way, no father painting you bad. Just adults having fun.”

“Oh,” you gasped, gulping as you felt the air in your lungs disappear. “Sure, I’d love to.” But the truth is, you wouldn’t survive being alone with them.

“Beautiful dress, by the way,” she complimented, getting up and walking past you, “shows all the right curves.”

That was the start of everything. Unfortunately, she had no intention of killing you. Instead, she seemed genuinely interested in getting to know you better, saving you from your father by engaging in conversations with you when you were all at the same table, asking what you liked, and mostly, complimenting you. At first, it could’ve been mistaken for a ‘girls support girls’ kind of moment, but quickly you started to perceive something else. Her looks, her touches and her words weren’t any different than Mr. Suh’s ones, so lingering, so secretive, and teasing, feeling like a breeze that taunts your skin with a sense of relief that’s never meant to come.

Two months have passed since that moment, and your plans of keeping the distance crumble apart when you find yourself alone with them.

It’s not the first time, but you feel today might be more difficult to deal with. Your father is stuck with an idea of you from when you were five years old and in constant need of supervision, or else you can’t explain why he almost treats them as your babysitters.

‘We’ll be out today, look after her,’ these are the words your father exclaims before walking out of the Villa he owned on this lake abandoned by God, your mother already at the car parked in the driveway.

You’re not a child but you surely act like one, rolling your eyes and letting out a loud grunt before puffing out air.

Mr. Suh laughs, humming lowly before turning to you. “You’re still a child in his eyes, aren’t you? His sweet, innocent, little baby.”

That comment shouldn’t have had any effect on you, yet, it does. It feels like he is implying something else, it’s clear in his tone and especially his eyes. But you shake it off, laughing before replying ‘yes,’ and then running up the stairs with a faint goodbye. You hear Mrs. Taylor say something, probably asking you to stay, but you pretend you don’t hear and disappear into your room.

You can avoid them only for so long before you don’t know what to do anymore and decide to go downstairs —terrible decision.

You think they left, so you walk outside to read a book under the porch and enjoy a cold lemonade, but when you step into the garden you see them by the pool.

Aaliyah is laughing tenderly at Johnny who’s dancing on the trampoline, winking at her before jumping in the pool, splashing water around, making her turn around and cover her face more with the large floppy hat she’s wearing.

You feel like dying, this is not how you want to see them, and you have to force your eyes up, not making them fall on her ass. You’re still in time to go back, just one step behind and you can go upstairs as if nothing happened, but you’re not quick enough.

“Hey,” Mr. Suh greets you. “We were hoping you would join us,” he smiles at you, walking out of the pool by the stairs, scrolling the water out of his hair before pushing it behind.

You gulp, which is the only thing you can do to try to water your throat —and more embarrassingly, don’t moan at the sight of his sculpted body. And then you smile, a tight forced smile as you still stand like a statue. “Oh, I won’t join you, I just wanted to read.”

Mrs. Suh snickers and you watch her turn around to stand out of the pool, strong arms lifting her body up —and only now you realize that she’s pretty ripped too, the soft curves complimented by the signed abs, toned arms, and thighs.

“You go to the gym together?” Dumbly slips out of your mouth and by the time you cover it with your hands it’s already too late, but the comment makes them smile.

“You pay attention to details, don’t you?” She asks, clicking her tongue and smirking. She then takes the hat off, letting the braids fall on her back before she sits on the round table, pulling a chair out to gesture you to take a seat. “And I don’t train as much as he does, prefer pilates actually.”

“Oh,” you reply, momentarily bringing your attention to Johnny who’s now sitting on the other chair, leaving you the seat in the middle. “Heard is good for the body, nice choice.”

“Are you going to sit, or do we have to drag you here?” Mr. Suh jokes, head pointing at the empty space between them.

You shake your head, looking down as you take a deep breath and force your legs to work. You can do that, you just have to sit in the middle of the hottest couple you’ve ever laid eyes on and that for some reason loves to tease you, you’ll be fine.

“See, it wasn’t that hard,” she says when your ass touches the chair, book and lemonade resting in front of you on the round table.

“So, enjoying your break?” Johnny asks and then throws his hair back to scroll some more water out, but that makes you lose your focus and gulp nervously.

“Yeah, needed a vacation. Would be better if it wasn’t with my father,” you add, looking down.

She chuckles. “You two really don’t get along. Poor thing, he doesn’t get you, does he?”

You hesitate to reply, 1) you don’t get if she’s mocking you and 2) you wouldn’t care because the way she called you poor thing makes you feel things.

“He thinks I’m a child. I mean, he treats you like babysitters, I’m an adult,” you reply when your brain starts working again, and sadness fills your expression.

“Sure you are,” Johnny adds, chuckling, and you frown. “Sorry, it’s just funny that when you get mad at him, you act a bit childlike. Teenagers-like, if it makes you feel better.”

You sigh, frowning as you stare at him. “You think I’m stupid?”

“What?” He asks, brows raising.

“You think I’m as stupid as he thinks I am? Because the way he talks about me would make anybody think I’m this clueless, hopeless, dumb woman who has no idea what she’s doing with her life.”

Aaliyah chuckles tenderly, “Honey, you’re smart. Johnny can’t quite shut up about you after you two talk. He loves your takes on authors and the way you write, says he would love to have you work with him somehow.”

You almost stop breathing. He talks about you to his wife? He remembers what you say during your conversation or when you talk about what you write? Damn, you doubt people even listen to you.

“Oh, thanks,” yet, this is the only thing you mumble, and it’s fine like this. Anything else coming from your mouth could dangerously be a squeal.

“Anyway,” she says, leaning closer, making you move back and hold your breath, only to damn yourself when her fingers brush on your skin to wipe away something that dropped on you with the wind, “your dad’s not here now, why don’t you join us by the pool and stop stressing about him?”

You smile but shake your head. “No, it’s fine, I’ll stay here.”

“Are you sure? The water is perfect,” Johnny adds, standing up and towering over you. “Couldn’t convince my sweet wife to jump in but maybe you’re braver than her,” he winks, and you don’t have the courage to turn around and see if she saw.

“Oh…” you whisper and then look at the pool. If only he knew the problem wasn’t the water, you wouldn’t think twice about jumping in.

“Oh, come on,” Mrs. Suh pleads, and before you can realize it, her hands are wrapped around your wrist. This is the first time she touches you, not a caress, not a tease, but a firm hold on you, and it shouldn’t send shivers down your spine, but it does. Her fingers are slim and soft, and you find yourself wishing you could feel them more, preferably somewhere else on your body.

“Wait,” you try to retort, but you have no choice. She’s dragging you to the edge of the pool and Johnny is walking right behind you, you’d be trapped either way.

“Here,” she says, coming to a stop when you reach the border of the pool. “Much better than sipping lemonade while reading a book all alone, right?”

“I don’t have a bikini,” you say, only now realizing you didn’t go downstairs for that.

“Are you wearing lace?” Johnny asks, walking so close that you can feel the heat of his body.

“Wh-why do you care?”

“Dummy,” he chuckles, “if you’re not, you can jump in anyway, it won’t ruin the lingerie.”

“Oh, of course, yeah, of course,” you mumble, looking away to don’t show how embarrassed you are. But their laughs —even if lighthearted— don’t help you at all, and you still feel trapped between them. “No, by the way, I have no reason to wear lace,” you add, trying to fill the silence.

“Really?” Aaliyah asks, tilting her head to the side. You turn around, facing the pool so you can look at them both —and fool yourself you have a way out now that your back is free.

“Well, yes… I’m… I’m not really people’s type,” you mutter, torturing the inside of your cheeks and your fingers.

Johnny snickers, “Weird, you look exactly like —” he doesn’t finish though, and you barely see the glance his wife gives him to stop him. “I’m sure you are someone’s type.”

You nod, but your brain is slowly melting, from the weather, from their closeness, and now because you can’t understand why she stopped him and what he truly wanted to say.

“Undress,” she says resolutely, and you’re brought back to earth, staring at her with wide eyes. “To swim… remember?” she finishes, head tilted to the side and a mocking smirk on her face. You know she’s having the time of her life watching you panic, you’re giving it all way, from the way your breath falters to the way your chest heavies.

“Sure, to swim,” you repeat but it’s more to ground yourself. You hope the water is freezing cold, so maybe your body can cool down, and so can your thoughts. You quickly lift your dress over your shoulders and by the time you can see again, you see them in the water, standing right in front of you, leaning against the other side of the pool.

“Are you coming?” Johnny asks, voice raspy but clear.

You hum, kneeling down, feeling the water with your hand. It’s not cold enough to calm you down and to make you take time, you have to jump in. So, you do. It’s not too deep and you can walk to them.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Aaliyah voices out, deeply breathing in the air and moving her fingers in abstract figures on the surface.

“Yeah. I…” you look down, watching your bra and how little it covers, the damp fabric highlighting your hard nipples even more.

“Shy?” It rolls from her tongue like venom, so sweet yet poisonous as her eyes lock in yours.

“No, no,” you laugh awkwardly. “Why would I?”

“We wouldn’t blame you, we can come off as quite intimidating at times,” Johnny says, the corner of his lips twitching in a smirk before it relaxes.

“You don’t intimidate me,” you lie, chuckling and crossing your arms on your chest.

She laughs. “My nipples are hard too, babe. It’s the cold,” she reassures you with a smile, but you don’t feel better. You’re not so sure it’s only the cold, you think they became this hard a few minutes ago when you were practically sandwiched between them.

“Why did you come here?” You ask out of nowhere, and their expressions change. “I’m sorry, it’s not like I don’t want you here,” you explain, “but you could do vacations on your own and don’t have to suffer through my father, so I don’t understand.”

“Thought we said not to talk about him?” She says, raising a brow.

“Well, I want to talk about you. You two have it all, you’re rich, powerful, smart, in love, and yet, you…” you float around me, always, constantly, “...you spend so little time together.”

Mr. Suh laughs, his head rolling back for a second. “We’re always together. I come home to her, not your father,” he jokes and she laughs, nodding in agreement.

“Also, this might not be the only vacation we will do this year. We always go to Santorini in September before Uni starts,” she adds.

You hum, biting the inside of your cheek.

“But let’s talk about you,” she says. “Why are you here? Your brothers didn’t come.”

“My brothers can do whatever they want, I can’t.”

“Why?” This time Johnny is the one asking.

“I’d let him down,” you add, lowering your gaze because you don’t like the look of pity behind their eyes. “But I don’t want to think about him. You’re good at diving,” you change the subject, addressing Johnny, hoping it will be enough to move the focus from you.

“Thanks,” he replies, a proud smirk on his face.

“Don’t stroke his ego, he’s going to jump again and splash around,” she jokes, rolling her eyes.

“You’re already wet, so why would it be a problem?” He smirks, and then turns to you and winks, making you choke on your own saliva, but you try to cover it up with a fit of cough, something that makes the couple giggle under their breath more.

Aaliyah swims to you, pushing you back so Johnny can have space and maybe don’t drown you with his jump. Your skin is on fire as her hands place on your back as she guides you and you’re thankful your feet can touch because you can barely walk, so imagine swimming.

“He was in the swimming team in high school,” Aaliyah explains, covering her eyes from the sun with a hand and squeezing them so she can watch Johnny. You mimic her, humming at her words. “He was so good, I think I fell in love on the bleachers watching him swim.”

You chuckle tenderly and try to imagine a younger version of them, and you can almost see them. You wonder if their personalities were the same more than ten years ago, you wonder how they looked, you wonder if they would’ve ever imagined to still be here after so many years. But in any version you come up with, you still don’t fit. Actually, it makes you look like a stain even more.

“Your love is… strong,” you whisper when Johnny finally dives in and she cheers before bringing her attention to you.

“It is,” she agrees, a sweet smile showing her straight, white teeth, “even though weird things happen sometimes.”

You giggle, frowning. “Weird things?” Your voice is shaking, and you don’t want to connect the two dots that are so vivid in your head.

“What are you talking about? Praising me?” Mr. Suh asks, grinning, running a hand in his wet hair before hugging his wife from the back and kissing her cheek.

“Not about you, nothing impressive about that jump,” she jokes. “About us.”

“Us?”

She hums. “I was telling her how I fell in love with you, and she said our love is strong.”

You want to ask about the weird things, you want to ask so much more, but you don’t. And you simply stand there, watching Mr. Suh’s hands wrap around her body, feeling jealousy in the pit of your stomach.

The whole thing gets more intense as time passes by. You’re curious about them, as individuals and as a couple, and you can’t deny the tension anymore. Not tonight.

The three of you haven’t really spoken, mostly because you slipped away as soon as you crossed ways, and after a few tries, they stopped trying to approach you. But the buzzing chemistry is strong across the room.

You try not to look at them, you even try to engage in conversation with your father —when he’s not attached to Mr. Suh’s ass— and some of his other friends, but it’s useless. Your head always turns in their direction, it’s almost like a voice is luring you in.

You guess you look dumb from the outside, and you’re sure that if you looked at yourself in the mirror you would tell yourself to work on the way you stare at —almost strangers— with eyes filled with lust. You don’t want to, you don’t want to look at them, even less with that wide-eyed gaze and agape mouth, but you can’t help it.

“Honey,” your mother’s voice scoffs, “what are you doing?”

You perceive her scolding —disgusted— gaze on you and you cough, looking at her to be met with her judging eyes. Typical of your mother, usually you only get her looks with no need for words to be added.

“Sorry, I was zoned out,” you justify, chuckling awkwardly, but it only makes her frown more and sigh. “I’m a bit tired,” you lie, trying to fool her.

“Just don’t look weird,” she dismisses you with a wave of hand. “Not more than the usual,” she adds, leaving you alone.

You roll your eyes, scoffing loudly once you’re sure she’s out of sight and then start walking to the table with the drinks. You’re not sure adding alcohol to the picture will make it better but who knows, maybe ending up passed out next to a toilet is better than lusting over a married couple that is probably just messing with you.

It doesn’t work.

You blame it on the hard drinks your friends make you drink when you go out, your alcohol tolerance must be out of the roof by now, but it doesn’t matter because your biggest problem still stands.

Your problem is standing on the other side of the room now that you’re sitting on some couches with the fourth drink in hand. You shouldn’t feel like this, stomach upside down and a frown hardening your beautiful features while you look at them. But you can’t help it. Mr. Suh’s hand sitting at the side of Aaliyah’s waist, his thumb rubbing soft circles over the maroon dress she’s wearing. You can’t hear her laugh as her head rolls back before falling on his shoulder at something the person they are talking to is saying, but your brain replays the sound anyway, and you smile.

The beam on your face drops quickly when her eyes lock into yours, Johnny is not looking, busy paying attention to the person in front of them, but her gaze is on you. It’s piercing even with the distance between you and it takes your breath away. You should make this look normal, raise a hand and wave with a small smile before turning away, but you don’t. You’re stuck, like you always are around them, and the only thing that moves is your heart, pounding fast and violently in your chest as you watch her every move, one hand bringing a glass to her lips and the other meeting Johnny’s on her waist. You’d love to roll your eyes and huff ‘he’s yours, we get it,’ but you only feel a stinging pain in your heart, and a less painful one, well… somewhere else.

The spell breaks when she turns around, eyes on her husband and laughing again as if nothing happened, almost as if you’re not even in the room anymore.

Your shoulders drop, your breath gets normal again, and your head lowers. It’s not normal to feel like this, especially when it all feels like a mockery at times. You know there’s no space for you. You can’t be her and run your fingers in his hair without getting scowled at for ruining it. You can’t be her and kiss him on the lips and chuckle when he rubs your nose against yours. You can’t be her and see him in the comfort of when he wakes up or goes to bed.

But you play and play, and fool yourself you can, getting lost in those fantasies. You need a breath of fresh air.

Just like the alcohol, the minutes spent outside to cool your body and mind don’t work. When you go back to sit at your spot, you realize they’re sitting opposite to you. You’d leave again but you have no excuse, and it would become even more awkward now that your father sits next to you. But it’s fine, they’re talking again with someone else and you can focus on what your father is saying. Or maybe not, his conversation with another one of his intellectual friends is boring, nothing interesting comes from his mouth, just old, recurrent, wrong takes. You’d get in the conversation, just to feel something else that night and end up in a discussion with your dad because you need to prove him wrong, but your brain is somewhere else.

Once again, in front of you. Mrs. Suh is sitting on Johnny’s lap, somehow her back manages to stay straight even if she’s not resting against anything, her long legs are elegantly crossed by the ankle and one of her arms is wrapped around his shoulder. You recognize the person in front of them, Mr. Kim Doyoung, a math professor, and you question how they know each other but it gets swiped from your mind quickly.

You hate how close they are. Their touches so subtle and yet so loud making it feel like they’re rubbing it in your face. You hate how people look at them, with so much awe and affection, you feel like only you can look at them like that. And you feel stupid, it is stupid.

But then it happens again, this time it’s Mr. Suh the one looking at you. All the anger and jealousy fly away. Thousands of eyes on them, and he’s still looking at you. His wife is in his arms, and he’s still looking at you. Your father is at your side, and he’s still looking at you.

You gulp, shifting on the spot to try to get comfortable and stop the painful throbbing between your legs, but it’s impossible.

Mr. Suh’s lips flicker in a small smirk, and then his brow rises, there’s also a small raise of the cup he’s holding, and you immediately turn around, just to make sure your father is not looking. You can’t believe he’s so bold, flirting —or whatever he is doing— not only in a full room but with your dad by your side.

You should hate it, you should leave, maybe even confront him, but you don’t. You’re actually quite ashamed the whole thing turns you on. It’s hot, and taboo, and taboo but hot. And come on, you’ve been subtly flirting with a married couple, this shouldn’t be the worst thing, but it feels like it. Because your father worships them, everybody in that room praises them, wants to be like them, and thinks they only have eyes for each other, but they don’t, even if it’s only a naughty game, their eyes are on you.

It’s you.

Their eyes skim around the room playing hide and seek with yours. Their hands tickle your skin in secret. Their bodies speak to you.

The whole room fades in the background, all the tension, all the problems, gone.

It’s only you and them.

Eventually, you start spending more and more time at their place. You tell yourself it’s because they’re easygoing and you can easily escape from your house —to be more precise, from your father. But the truth is, you’re starting to enjoy them more and more.

You still feel out of place sometimes, but it quickly fades away when they notice their conversation push you out by quickly pulling you back in, making light jokes you can understand, or asking about your day. You realize Mrs. Taylor tends to pick up on you quicker than Mr. Suh, while he prefers to ease you with tender touches, and you wonder if he knows the effect they have on you.

You still don’t open up to them much, fearing that if they discovered more, they’d quickly stop giving you attention.

Attention.

That’s another thing you enjoy about being with them. You feel seen. Even if their chemistry is over the roof, they never leave you out, you’re not a tapestry with them. They listen to you, even if you don’t say much, even if you stumble on your words and only give them a small peek. They look at you with sweet smiles on their faces and hum interested, holding conversation with ease.

And shamefully, the thing you love the most, they pamper you. It’s not like you’re poor —even if you have decided to don’t ask for money from your father, some privileges from your wealthy family come anyway— but they still spoil you. Expensive dinners in places you honestly never even wanted to set foot inside. Expensive clothes you doubt you even have the occasion to wear. They even gifted you a Cartier necklace that you keep stored away as your most treasured possession.

But their attentions aren’t only economical, they spoil you with homemade dinners at their place, movie night on their couch, and something more…

You lost count by now of how many times they get you alone and flirt with you, teasing you, watching you get flustered, chuckling at the way your breath falters when their fingers brush your skin or hair. It’s like a dirty game, you are their dirty game. But you don’t hate it. You know they both know what they’re doing, but you love this secrecy, the way you’re their trophy in plain sight and yet a dirty secret they have to hide from each other. It makes you feel wanted, desperately wanted.

And soon enough, you find yourself playing that game, too.

You wear your best outfits when you pass by the University, skin-tight skirts or pants, and just as skimpy blouses or tops with the excuse to borrow books from the library and say hi. Your lips are tinted red for Mr. Suh when he asks you if you want to pass in his office to help him with some lectures, and brown for Mrs. Suh when you casually pass by her firm for lunch or after work. Your hair is always in different hairstyles until you start to stick with the ones you see they like the most. And slowly, you gain some confidence to flirt back.

Your remarks are subtle, and your gaze shies away when they hold eye contact and only giggle or smirk teasingly. But it’s something.

Or so you think.

One second, you’re confident, and the other you feel like you’re making the biggest mistake of your life. You start wondering if you’re pathetic in their eyes and are nothing more but a plaything for them to toy with and discharge when they’ll get tired of you. But nobody ever complimented you this much, calling you beautiful, caressing your face, loving the outfits you put together, and, most importantly, didn’t make you feel dumb. So it feels impossible to pull away from them. Even when your father starts getting mad at you about it.

He’s not dumb, and he has seen the way you and Mr. Suh sit in a corner and talk, he has seen that he greets you before anybody else —even before him— and he doesn’t like it.

“Johnny and Aaliyah have a beautiful relationship,” he starts, scolding you, “don’t try to screw it up, you’re not half of her worth.”

And that’s the first time you cry at night about it. You don’t want to listen to him, but you can’t help but question why they would choose you. Even if it’s just a game, even if it means nothing, you can’t find a reason why. You don’t know who started this first, but it’s not like it would be any different, they’re both hot, smart, talented and successful, and your father is right, you’re not half of her, or his, worth.

Yet, you can’t let it go.

If you know their townhouse by heart, you can’t say the same for their holiday house. It’s your first time being there after they invited you to their getaway weekend. You didn’t hesitate to say yes, pack your best things and leave.

You didn’t want to wander around but they left you all alone and didn’t show much of the house, so you took this opportunity to see a bit more.

The place is big; in the spacious hall, you’re met with the stairs once you enter, the big living room and on the right there’s the kitchen with a grand island in the middle and the table in front of the wide window. Farther down the corridor there’s a small bathroom and a room you couldn’t open. You’d like to go outside in the garden and chill next to the pool or under the porch, but it’s like upstairs is calling you.

On the first floor, there are the bedrooms and a studio. Your room —well, the guest room— is at the end of the corridor with a big bathroom next to it, while their room is at the end of the stairs, or so you guess.

You don’t want to pry, but curiosity’s got the best of you, especially after trying to open that room downstairs that won’t open. But you know you don’t want to find the keys to that room when you enter their bedroom —yes, you do, but that’s not the main thing.

Your lips part when you enter. It’s bigger than yours, with white walls and wide windows that let the light shine in making it seem even bigger. The big bed is against the wall that faces the door, and right next to the windows, there’s a small sitting room with a two-seat couch and two armchairs.

You should stop and don’t step further but you don’t listen to your brain.

On the wall in front of the bed, there’s a fireplace and on top of it there’s a television that takes half of the wall. At the sides, there are recessed shelves in the wall with books and elegant boxes, a lamp in front of it, and a lounge chair.

There are other lamps, all seem to be design pieces. Two long bedside tables that seem to be vanity desks of marble black. Some beautiful paintings are on the walls and you frown when you can’t recognize the artist, but they picture women and nature and you find them mesmerizing.

Then your eyes are caught by a rectangular red box placed against the wall at the side of the bed, it’s bigger than the bench at the end of the bed, and something about it screams at you to open it.

You shouldn’t, you feel like you’re invading their privacy —and well, you are— but you don’t stop.

You kneel in front of it, and a part of you hopes it’s locked somehow so that you can walk out of there and pretend nothing happened. But there’s no lock or key, you just have to lift the lid to see what’s inside.

Your lips part and a gasp comes out of your mouth when your eyes see what’s inside. You freeze. Close it and leave. Your brain screams, but you’re stuck, eyes blinking as you try to make sure you’re not making it all up.

“Oh my God,” you gasp, hand falling from the lid to shakily touch what’s inside. There are other boxes but, for now, you don’t care to open them and only grab what you can see. Handcuffs, blindfolds, what seem to be whips but they all have different shapes and you don’t get the differences, ropes and other items you can’t name. The closed boxes have labels on them, lingerie, anal, vibrators, and dildos.

Your hands grab one, opening it, inspecting what’s inside with surprise and curiosity, and then another, and another. To be honest, you don’t know why you are so shocked, you own some toys —a vibrator and a small dildo— but you’ve seen much more than that, and it shouldn’t be surprising that a couple like the Suhs have freaky, kinky sex. Yet, it’s overwhelming you.

You are so caught up looking into the box that you don’t hear the door open and Aaliyah stand behind you with just a rope wrapped around her body.

“Looking for something?”

One of the boxes falls from your hand when Mr. Suh’s voice resonates in the room and you jump around in fear.

You mumble no sense, starting to panic while your eyes dart around the room for an escape. There would be many, the room is all windows and you could easily jump off the balcony to put an end to how embarrassed you feel right now, but you can’t.

Their gazes are piercing you and pinning you down against the floor and a feeble “I’m sorry,” is all you can say before your throat goes completely dry.

They snicker, starting to walk over you and you take a step back, but almost fall into the box. You don’t, not because your brain started to work again, but because Mrs. Suh has her arms wrapped around you to keep you from being bent in half into that.

“Careful, you don’t want to hurt yourself,” she says, a veil of genuine concern and something else, a lot of something else, that you can’t decipher.

“I told you she was curious,” Johnny says, talking to her once she lets you go after she makes sure you can stand on your feet.

“I — I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry,” you mumble, looking down and torturing your hands, but the toys abandoned on the floor only make you look outside. “I thought you were out.”

“I was,” Johnny says, “went buy something sweet for you. But it looks like you’ll get something sweeter tonight.”

Your brain panics, trying to assimilate everything they said to you. “You — you were home the entire time?”

She smirks. “Didn’t hear the water running?”

You sigh defeated, pressing your lips together and shaking your head.

Johnny chuckles before kneeling and talking to you again, “You’re lucky we didn’t want to use these on you tonight, I’m not really in the mood to clean them all up,” he says as he puts the dildos back in the box and set it aside, outside of the container so he remembers to clean them.

“On — on me?” You mumble still struggling to breathe.

Aaliyah hums. “All this teasing has to go somewhere, right?”

“I — I…” You — You… you wished this so much that now that is happening you don’t know how to feel anymore.

“You don’t want us?” Johnny asks with genuine care and your eyes widen, terrified they will get the wrong idea.

“No, I do, I do, but I don’t want to — I… I promise I’m not weird, I don’t even know why I came here, or why I opened that, it’s just so eye-catching, it’s red and nothing in this room is red, and…”

Your rant gets interrupted by two lips on yours. You don’t know who it is at first, eyes closed and brain and heart going off like sirens, running around with their non-existent hands in the air. But then an arm wraps around you and pulls you close, and you realize it’s her. It’s her soft yet firm touch, it’s her body against yours.

And then you’re trapped again, Johnny is behind you, and you feel small and powerless.

“We’re not mad at you, honey,” he says, fingers running against your neck as he moves your hair back, “we’re kinda glad you snooped around, we weren’t really sure how to initiate this.”

“Oh,” you gasp. “But I’m not weird, I’m not a stalker, I promise.”

“We know,” she stops you again, chuckling, “maybe you wanted to get caught. Johnny called your name when he was downstairs, you didn’t hear him?”

Your lips spread partially as you try to remember but you’re sure you didn’t hear his voice or the shower. “No, I… I think I was too caught in… into… well…”

They snicker.

“Naughty girl,” she mocks, gently cupping your chin. “Found something interesting?”

“Uhm, no…”

“No?” Johnny asks and you feel something against your bare thighs —wearing shorts was a bad idea. It has fringes and it tickles. “Not even this?”

You look down and see the black flogger in his hands and you gulp. “I never tried any of these before… I’m not even sure how some of these things can bring pleasure.”

Aaliyah chuckles, shaking her head. “Oh, babydoll, you’d be surprised.”

“You want to tie me?” You ask innocently and they laugh.

“Nah, seems a bit cruel for our first time, don’t you think?” Johnny says, hands wrapping around your stomach.

First time? There will be another one? You think but you don’t ask. You probably already look depraved enough to their eyes, you don’t want to make it worse.

“So, want to have fun with us?”

“Yeah…”

“Hesitating?” She questions, caressing your cheek to soothe you but her touch only makes your body buzz in excitation.

“No, I still don’t get why you would want me,” you whisper, diverting your gaze.

“Have you taken a look in the mirror?” He says, big hands caressing your waist and lips brushing against your neck.

You shake your head. “I still think I don’t fit between you…”

She grabs your chin, lifting your head. “Then why don’t you stop thinking tonight, mhh? We’ll give you a reason to believe why you do fit, instead?” Her hands grab yours and she places them on the tie of her robe, if your fingers move and you let it fall to the ground the whole night will bloom. The consequences could be tragic, tomorrow could be the worst day of your life, but tonight might be the best one.

You don’t hesitate anymore; you’re curious, you’re needy, and you badly want to be pressed between them and feel their skin against yours, so your fingers dance on the tie and pull the robe open.

Your lips part to let out a gasp when her naked body unreveals to your eyes, and you get lost in it. Your eyes move up and down, taking in her perky, round boobs, her darker nipples hardening at the cool air of the room, and then they go down, to her toned stomach you have already seen before until they reach her soft hips, you bite your lips when your eyes fall between her legs, perfectly trimmed black hair covering her most intimate part, and lastly on her soft thighs and long legs.

“You’re beautiful,” you breathe out, feeling you could collapse just from the view, and you start wondering if you can take Johnny too.

Her lips lift in a smile and her hands wander on your body where her husband’s hands are leaving your body untouched. You press your lips together to don’t moan already, it would be so humiliating to do so, but it’s almost as if they know.

“Don’t hold back,” Johnny whispers against your ear, shivers running down your spine. “We take pride in what we do, and want to hear you.”

You hum, nodding fast before you feel dizzy when he pushes your shorts down, his body lowering to accompany them on the floor, his hot breath hitting your exposed skin before his lips leave kisses on your thighs and ass.

Aaliyah is busy taking care of your top, lifting your arms to reveal your bare chest. Your first instinct is to cover yourself, but she stops you with a stern look and a “Don’t.” Her voice is sultry, sweet like honey and intoxicating, and you can only obey. “It’s not fair when I’m so bare at your eyes, don’t you think so?”

“Yes,” you manage to breathe out, and then turn your head to stare at Johnny, the only one who’s completely covered. You don’t say anything, but your eyes speak louder than any word. You’re basically imploring him to show himself to you, your eagerness is burning out of you, yet he mocks you with a smirk and then a scoff.

“Later, honey,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “Don’t be greedy. Too much on your plate, then you can’t chew.”

His wife snickers, pushing him back from you. “Follow me,” she says, giving you a reassuring smile before turning around and walking toward the bed.

You hesitate, looking back at Johnny, asking his permission, and when he nods, you still feel stuck there. You need a light push from him to start moving your feet and follow her on the Wyoming king bed.

“I didn’t think you would be so shy, doll,” she points out, watching you hesitantly climb on the bed and crawl to her.

“She’s not,” Johnny replies for you, “she’s just playing with us.”

You stop in your tracks, looking back at him, mumbling to come up with a reply. But you stop thinking when her chest presses against your back and she turns your head to kiss you. Her hand reaches out to call Johnny to join you, but you don’t think about him until you feel the bed bend with his weight and then his hands on your thighs.

“Or maybe she just needs to ease into us,” she suggests. You catch she’s telling him something, it’s a quick conversation with eyes and mouthed words; you don’t get it, but you don’t care to get it.

You trust them. And you like the thrill of being at their mercy with no idea of what they truly want to do with you.

So, you let them. You let them move you, shifting around you as their hands gently push you flat against the bed and their lips start tracing your shivering skin. You hate that Johnny is still dressed but that thought quickly leaves your mind —or better, doesn’t annoy you that much anymore— when his fingers hook on the band of your panties and pull them off.

You squirm, hiding your face against Aaliyah’s arms but they’re quick at reassuring you.

“Stop hiding away,” Johnny says, “you’re beautiful, honey.”

But your confidence it’s not the problem. You’ve never been the centre of attention, you never had two pairs of eyes, lips, and hands on you. You don’t know how to cope with all of this.

You gasp when her lips wrap around your hard nipple and she starts sucking. And you can’t control your hips when his hands brush against the apex of your thighs before lingering over your sensitive pussy.

“Can I taste you?” Johnny asks, softly caressing your skin.

“Yes, you can.” You’re already short on air as you watch him lower his head, his eyes intensely staring straight into yours, making you feel so small and yet so safe.

Your legs go weak as soon as his plump lips touch your sensitive clit, he’s only leaving delicate kisses on you and small kitten licks but that’s not the only stimulation you’re receiving, Aaliyah’s mouth and fingers lick and pinch on your sensitive nipples are not helping you calm down.

“Oh my god,” you curse, rolling your head back when he starts eating you out for real. Tongue working with precision from your leaking slit to your throbbing clit, not leaving a patch untouched. His hold on you is firm, big hands keeping you spread, massaging your skin to help you relax even more, but with no room for movement.

“Look at you,” she teases, pulling away from your boob to pay attention to your face, “so wrecked and we barely even started. You love the way my husband is eating you out?”

Your eyes open to meet hers, and you regret it right away, the intensity of her gaze making you feel something you’ve never felt before. Sure, she carried around an intimidating vibe, but that kind of aura disappeared as the months passed and you grew closer, but this, this is different. She is dominant and firm, yet somehow you can always find that veil of care that characterized her.

You try to answer, afraid not receiving a verbal response will disappoint her, but your throat lets out an embarrassing whimper followed by a broken moan.

She snickers, shaking her head, and caressing your cheeks so gently it feels like she’s mocking you. “I know, doll, I know, he’s good with his mouth.”

You cry out in embarrassment but your head rolls back when Johnny sucks harshly on your clit and his hands move down to keep your pussy spread.

“Taste so good,” he mumbles pressed against your skin, the vibrations driving you insane. “So wet for us, you wanted this so bad, didn’t you? Our desperate toy, we made you wait for so long.”

You’d love to scream that yes, this took too long, but nothing comes out of your mouth. You somehow find the strength to look up, much with the help of Aaliyah who places an arm under your head for support, and you feel your stomach tighten up at the view.

Johnny looks like a starving man, messily lapping at your aching pussy, devouring you with his face buried between your legs, nose pressed against your mound. He’s so caught up he probably doesn’t even realize he tugs you closer when his arms wrap around your thighs.

Your eyes shut down and for a moment the image of the usual him crosses your mind. There’s nothing of the composed, elegant, and polite man you know, that man that your father loves so much, the same man that if he saw him right now, would have a heart attack. But you quickly push him out of your mind. You have no other choice when Aaliyah’s fingers add to the mess between your legs, and you bite your lips so hard you almost bleed.

“Too much,” you cry out, looking for mercy in her eyes when she draws them from her husband and your cunt to your face.

“Too much?” She coos with a condescending tone. “You’re bucking your hips against his face and want me to believe it’s too much?”

You groan loudly, giving up as your head falls against the mattress again. Her arm is not there anymore as she’s using it to support her body to tease you, and your neck has no more strength to watch him have the time of his life between your thighs.

But you’re not the only one groaning; Johnny’s moaning too, getting drunk in your juices and falling into madness as he tries to ease the painful boner in his tight jeans, grinding against the mattress for comfort.

“You’re so hot you’re making him hump the mattress, babydoll,” she points out. “That’s the effect you have on him. Still doubt you’re not enough?”

You don’t, not right now, you don’t want to think about it. Still, you shake your head, earning a soft, pleased smile and a “Good girl.”

It makes your stomach tighten, your toes curl, and your hands clench around the sheets. “Johnny,” you whisper, keeping your mouth parted as you try to let more air in, it’s a beg for release but you can’t find the words to let it all out.

The way you moan his name, so shyly, so weakly, a bit for the pleasure, a bit because you feel like it doesn’t belong to you —God if he finds it endearing the way you still call them Mr. and Mrs. Suh sometimes— makes his heart pound and his dick ache. You’re so fragile in their hands, right now, in his. He had wished to have you like this for so long; since his wife first brought you up and he started to look at you in a different light. Every time you spoke your mind during dinners, coming up with something that was too smart for your father to comprehend until he proposed the same point of view, only changing a few things. You deserved to be lifted on the table and eaten out like this. And the more you two talked, or your hands brushed timidly, the more he felt addicted. He couldn’t stop thinking of you.

And that was crazy, because the only woman he ever had was his wife, and never he would’ve imagined he could feel so attracted to someone that wasn’t her. And yet, the three of you are here, in the same bed, in the same mess.

When you call out his name again, he snaps out of his thoughts and looks up at you, the eye contact makes your head spin and you hold onto Aaliyah’s wrists. You feel like the orgasm will make you fly away, but before that, Johnny will kill you with just one look.

“Please,” you cry out, begging to be spared, or maybe not, maybe begging to be ended, begging for the release, begging to reach the best orgasm of your life.

“Let go, honey, come in my mouth,” his deep, sultry voice is the final strike that sends you over the edge. Body convulsing in his hold as he keeps you down and keeps sucking and licking you, eagerly swallowing your sweet cum, and moaning vulgarly against your burning hot skin.

You feel dizzy and high, and your body slumps against the soft mattress when your first orgasm ends.

“Want to see you,” you cry out, trying to lift your body and reach for him, but your limbs quickly give up.

Aaliyah chuckles, and you turn to face her. “We need to work on your stamina.”

You pout as you justify yourself, “It was too good, and I haven’t come like this in — well, never.”

Johnny chuckles, smirking proudly before he stands up at the edge of the bed. “Want to see me, honey?”

You nod with enthusiasm, biting your lips as your heart thuds in excitement. Your eyes lock with his fingers that are moving way too slow on their way to unbutton the shirt. But after what feels like an eternity, the blouse meets the floor, leaving uncovered his toned chest, arms and beautiful tattoos adorning the skin of his shoulder. But it’s not like you haven’t seen that before.

“What?” You scream annoyed when she covers your view, standing on her knees between you and her husband, giggling at your disappointment.

“He needs a hand, baby,” she chuckles and you huff again. Of course, they would fuck with you some more.

Every sound drives you more insane; you bite the inside of your cheek when you hear the belt open, and your heels tap against the mattress when the zip comes down, lastly, you groan in disbelief when you hear his pants and belt hit the floor.

“Please,” you whine, closed fists slapping against the bed.

“Fine, greedy little thing,” Johnny chuckles, and so does she as they finally give you what you want.

Your eyes and lips widen, and you gulp. “Oh… wow…”

They laugh, it’s a soft sound that creates a beautiful harmony, and even if they’re making fun of you, it warms your heart. The next thing they do is crawl to you to kiss you.

It starts with a soft peck on your lips, their mouths on yours meeting almost shyly, and then it gets heated, teeth and tongue clashing together as all of you try to have a taste of each other.

“Don’t worry, you can take it,” she reassures, kissing your lips, hands travelling down your stomach until it reaches your throbbing clit and starts moving in circles, making you gasp against their lips.

“I don’t think I can,” you mumble, glossy eyes looking into his first and then moving to hers. “Maybe you should.”

“Oh, I do, trust me,” she replies, smirking before kissing your neck.

“Tonight is about you,” Johnny reminds you, doing the same as she’s doing but on the other side. “It will fit.”

“Mhh,” you mumble, feeling weak and overwhelmed.

“Let me make sure it will fit,” she sings happily, now taking the spot between your legs.

You moan against Johnny’s mouth when her finger pushes inside you, humming in delight as she feels how wet you are. You can’t see her, eyes closed as you get lost in the kiss, but just her presence is enough to make you tremble.

“Look at you, it’s so easy to turn you into a puddle,” she teases, watching as you can barely kiss Johnny back. Something about the kiss you and her husband are sharing makes her head spin. There’s something about you, something new, something they’ve never had before. You’re so delicate, like a flower, and your petals fall perfectly between them. Just like right now, she’s sure there’s nothing in your brain, and yet your lips follow Johnny’s, messily meeting him in that slow, yet passionate kiss.

Your body reacts so nicely to their hands running on your skin, cupping and groping at your soft boobs to stimulate you everywhere as she works the second finger inside of you. They are experts at what they’re doing, sending shivers all over your body and pushing you further down into that haze.

“You’re taking my fingers so well, you’re so eager to feel Johnny inside, aren’t you?”

You mumble a reply as you finally pull away from Johnny, a thread of spit still connecting your lips, but you don’t notice until he breaks it off. “Want to feel him.”

They snicker, and then their lips are on you; Johnny’s busy leaving pecks on your neck before he pays attention to your nipples, and Aaliyah is focused on kissing your inner thigh and tummy as her fingers still curl inside of you.

“I don’t think you’re ready, yet, pretty girl,” she hums, curling the tips up and hitting your sensitive spot. That action makes your hips buck from the mattress and causes a louder moan to slip through your tortured plump lips. “So wet, dripping all over my fingers. I bet you taste so good, maybe I’ll get a taste one day, uhm?”

You squeeze your eyes, uselessly trying to calm your breath, it’s pathetic how fast your chest is moving in erratic movements, and how your hips squirm to search for more, even if one of their hands is on your stomach to keep you in place. You don’t reply but you internally scream that yes, you want her. You want to feel her soft, full lips on you, you wonder if she’s eager like Johnny or more meticolous, if she moans loudly or keeps quiet. You don’t know, but the mere idea makes a growl roll from your lips.

“She’s good with her fingers, isn’t she?” Johnny’s deep voice hits your ear, and you feel your body melt. Your head moves quickly to agree as you turn to the side to face him. He’s staring at you with a sly smirk on his face and before you can stop him, you feel his long fingers on your clit. You bite back a moan and try to plead with your eyes but it’s useless. Neither of them wants to stop.

“What, princess? We have to make sure you’re ready to take my dick,” he whispers, shushing your senseless sounds with a kiss.

You bite his lips by mistake when she pushes a third finger inside, eyes wide both in surprise and in a silent apology to Johnny.

“Too much,” you cry out.

But she tsks, shaking her head. “You have to be all stretched out for him, doll. You don’t want to break, do you?”

You shake your head before it rolls back, and your face contorts more. You don’t want to break but you feel like you might explode from this alone. She’s incredibly skilled in what she’s doing, it’s like her fingers are pumping and curling following the rhythm of a melody only she can hear, they hit you deep and fast, not giving you time to recover from each profound push.

“Just a few pumps and then he’ll fuck you exactly like you want,” she encourages you, her dark brown eyes looking softly at you, curling up in a sweet smile.

It takes you less than a few pumps to come undone, you don’t even see the orgasm coming when it washes over you, knocking air out of your lungs. It’s her two fingers pumping into you, curling and scissoring, after she pulled the third out to move faster, it’s Johnny’s thumb on your clit, flicking it swiftly, and his lips on your nipple, sucking harshly. But mostly, it’s them, the warmth of their bodies wrapping around you, intoxicating you like a drug that takes its sweet time to kick in.

Your body shakes, trapped between the mattress and their big bodies, and you feel like the room is spinning around you.

“You come so easily,” she mocks, pulling her fingers out once she’s sure you’re done, and slapping your clit, making you hiss.

Easily. If that was nothing to her…

“Naughty girl,” Johnny scoffs, pulling away from you and you whine when their hot bodies are not on you anymore.

You sigh, thinking since when you’re so pathetic and needy? You truly can’t last more than ten seconds without having them all over you?

“If you were ours that wouldn’t have gone unpunished,” he says, settling between your legs and spreading them apart. You barely noticed them moving around, already too far gone to be aware of what is going on around you. His intense gaze makes you shiver and more cum oozes out of your already messy, wet cunt. Johnny takes a deep breath, getting lost in the sight of you, your face is wrecked, your lips parted, your eyes watery, your boobs are heaving, and your hips are moving around, pleading him to fuck you. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, honey.”

The compliment makes your heart swell and you weakly smile back at him.

“Come on, fuck her already,” Aaliyah encourages him, pushing his hips closer as she stands at his side, “she deserves it.”

You gasp under your breath when his hands wrap around the back of your knees and, with a strong tug, he pulls your body against his, the tip of his dick slapping against your core. He moves one hand down to grab the base and pushes his cock against your slit, it feels like forever as he rubs his leaking tip against your clit and every now and then pushes against your opening that’s fluttering, begging him to fill you up already.

“Johnny,” Aaliyah scolds sternly, looking at him up and down, and her dominance at the moment makes you shiver and moan, shamelessly. You try to close your legs to hide the effect it had on you but they both push them open, and somehow, the way they’re not paying attention to you, eyes locked into each others, and still have you under control, makes you whine even louder. “Stop teasing her,” she orders, cupping his chin and pulling him closer. “Don’t you see how badly she wants you? Dripping on the sheets like a kitten in heat?”

You frown at her comment even if well, she’s right. You’re sure you’ve never been this wet your entire life.

“As you wish, milady,” he jokes and in a second, he’s inside of you.

“Fuck,” you scream at the stretch, even if he didn’t bottom in, you still feel like you can barely breathe. “Oh, shit.”

“Damn, honey, I’m not even halfway in,” he comments, stopping and looking at you with a worried face.

“No, I’m fine, I was — too caught up,” too caught up in you two and I barely remember my name.

Aaliyah snickers, shaking her head. “You’re so cute, doll,” she hums, caressing your thigh, “just relax and take him all, uhm? He’s going to fuck you so well,” she says before addressing her husband, “right, Johnny?”

Johnny nods, smirking playfully before sinking further until his entire length is in.

Your head rolls back while pleasure dissipates inside your body, he fills you perfectly, stretching you so nicely. You feared it was going to be more painful, but it feels so good, and the pairs of hands soothing your skin are helping you calm down.

Johnny pulls you closer, beginning to slowly move his hips, hissing under his breath while your walls flutter around him so nicely, your wet, warm hole welcoming him with ease now that you’re not tense anymore.

And then it happens, for the first time that night, they kiss. You bite your lips with force as your eyes bore holes in them. Their lips move on their own, doing what they have been doing for a life now, and their hands pull each other close. You’ve seen them in similar circumstances before, but this, this, is different. Johnny is kissing his wife while he’s buried deep inside of you, one hand on the small of her back, the other keeping you spread, her hand tangled in his long, brown locks and the other intertwined with yours at your side.

Everything is oddly romantic and erotic at the same time. Everything makes perfect sense and no sense at all. But it’s fine. Tonight, you don’t want to think, you don’t want to worry, you want to roll around in this mess of limbs and skin and feel. Feel alive and loved. Even if it might be an illusion.

“Fuck, baby,” they moan when they pull apart, giggling at the way they’re in sinch even if for different things. Their eyes are on you again and while Johnny praises how good you feel, she praises how well you’re taking him.

And your heart jumps around while a dumb, drunk-in-love smile plasters on your face. But it swiftly drops when she moves up again to whisper something in Johnny’s ear. You try to study his expression, something flickers in his eyes, and they darken even more, you even feel his dick twitch inside of you, but you can’t make out anything of what she says.

Then Johnny’s hips come to an alt, and your throat dries.

“We were thinking you got to come two times already,” he starts, licking his lips, “and while I’m having fun with you, you will agree we kinda neglected Aaliyah, right?”

You nod quickly, eyes moving between the couple in swift motions.

“So, what do you think about turning around and eating her out while I keep fucking you?”

It’s like your brain sparks up and shuts down at the same time at his words. You nod eagerly, mumbling ‘yes’ while a small, fucked out smile creeps on your face.

“You want me, baby?” She asks, voice slurring out of her lips like velvet.

“Yes, please, want you so bad,” you reply, body buzzing in excitement as you take her body in.

You don’t have time to complain when Johnny pulls out of you, he swiftly turns you around, strong arms moving you as if you’re nothing for him, and given all the weights he lifts at the gym, it is nothing. Your body moves on its own, ass perking up while your face lowers down, close to the soft, perfumed sheets but not enough that you can’t use your lips.

And there she is, resting against the headboard with her legs spread right in front of your face. Her pussy’s dripping, clit throbbing in anticipation, and you envy how good she has been to hold it back for so long.

And even if your eyes are curious and sparkle with lust, she can sense your hesitation. “Come on, don’t be shy,” she encourages you, one hand gently cupping the back of your head, massaging your scalp, “don’t tell me it’s your first time.”

Well… not exactly, but you weren’t a pro at this either.

“Oh, you’re always on the receiving end?” She snickers, looking down at you. Eyes piercing you, pinning you down in your place. She has this thing, it’s like magic, one look and you’re right where she wants you, how she wants you.

“Mostly…” you admit shyly, looking down again.

“Well, time to change that,” she says before pushing you against her pussy.

Your lips move shily at first, it’s almost as if you’re testing the ground. Kitten licks are all you give her, licking up her sweet cum while your nose rubs against her clit. You breathe deep, getting lost in her aroma.

“Fuck, baby, just like that,” she praises, hand still caressing you but not pressing you down. If it was somebody else —even Johnny— she wouldn’t have hesitated to do so, but with you, she wants to take it slow and guide you through it.

You moan against her when Johnny pushes in again, this time he doesn’t wait before his hips start slamming against you, but he’s not going too fast. And the pleasure he’s fucking into you urges you to do better. You try to do what Johnny did to you before and every other person you’ve been with, and be better than the other times you’ve eaten pussy before.

“Yes, pretty girl, focus on the clit,” she instructs you, moving her hand down to caress your neck, and when you comply, a deep guttural moan rips from her throat. She hums in delight and your heart flips with pride. “Use your tongue.”

You hesitately stick your pink muscle out and poke it at her entrance but she stops you with a click of her tongue, “No, doll, up and down, come on, you can do it.” When your tongue starts doing that, licking her from the bottom of her entrance to the top, flicking your tip right under the hood of her clit, her legs shake and she pushes down a hiss. “So, so good, babydoll.”

“Shit, you’re so hot,” Johnny moans behind you, his hands holding tightly to your waist as he fucks you on his dick. He never imagined he’d be so turned on by this, but fuck, this is the dream. Seeing his wife’s face while you pleasure her, hearing her moan because of somebody else mouth, especially yours, makes him feel something he never felt before.

“You’re so good, doll. Such a fast learner, aren’t you? So eager to please us. So eager to be a good girl for us,” she moans, her fingers inevitably clenching around the roots of your hair when you suck hard on her clit. You seem to have found your scheme, keeping her pussy spread while your tongue runs on her labia and then your lips wrap around her clit, swift flicks of your tongue and shy hands testing what’s better.

You nod against her without pulling away, you could, but you don’t want to. You want to get drunk in her juices, you want to feel her thighs clench around your head —even if she’s trying hard not to do so— you want to hear her deep, intoxicating moans, you want her to pull your hair harder.

“Yes, you are,” she coos, meeting your half-lidded eyes, pushing down a guttural moan when a lonely tear rolls down your cheek, “you’re such a greedy little thing. One person it’s not enough for you, you need more. Is this enough or do you need even more, ugh? Bet you’d love it if we both fucked you at the same time.” Her condescending tone sends your brain into a spiral, you feel empty and yet overflowing, but you can’t reply. Johnny’s fucking you mercilessly now, big dick hitting you deep, striking all the right spots, and even if you’re giving something to her, you have zero control. You’re at their mercy, small and powerless, flushed between their bodies as you somehow do something like a robot.

“Loving eating her pussy while I fuck you hard?” This time is Johnny the one teasing you, his voice deeper but he gives no sign of slowing down, even if the pleasure is getting to him, you know it from his grunts and the way his hips falter every now and then. “Bet it feels so good to be muddy in our hands and have no worries in the world, right? You’re perfect here, nobody to impress,” he moans, leaning closer, his lips brushing your ear while his body presses you closer against the bed, “no father to make happy. Just us. Honestly,” he groans, pulling back, squeezing your hips before driving all the way in with a decisive thrust, sending you forward, “he’d have a heart attack if he saw you like this.”

You whine, your laments muffled by Aaliyah’s body, and you feel like you could explode. Is this why you like being with them so much? Because the fact that they like you so much proves your father wrong? The very people that he worships are busy worshipping his daughter while he trashes her around. But you don’t want to think of him, one, it could ruin your orgasm, two, you have them, and that’s all that matters. And to be honest, you love being with them so much because they value you and appreciate you for who you truly are.

You pull away, letting your fingers take the place of your mouth, rubbing on her clit while you talk, “want you, want more, please.”

“More? What’s more than this?” Johnny asks, snickering.

“Sit on my face?” You ask shily while you look up at her, cum and spit dripping down your chin, eyes glossy with tears.

She loses herself in the sight of you. You’re perfect even if you look like a mess, even if your eyes roll back and your lips part open when Johnny hits your sweet spot another time. “Oh… let’s not pull your luck too much tonight, hum?”

“But I —”

“But you, nothing,” she shushes you up, two fingers on your mouth. “You’re being so good, giving me pleasure while you take him so well. Just keep going.” She’d love to sit on your face, only being able to watch your eyes slowly blank as her hips roll against you, while your pretty hands wrap around her thighs as it slowly gets harder to breathe, but you’re not ready for that, yet.

You give up, starting where you stopped. But soon enough you’re whining again, “No, please, please, Sir,” you cry out, looking back to meet Johnny’s gaze for a split second.

He seems a bit startled by the way you address him, but he quickly shakes the surprise off to tease you with a condescending tone. “What’s wrong, honey? I thought you wanted more?” The pout that accompanies his words makes your stomach twist in a knot. You did want more, but the more was being smashed underneath them, not having his skilled fingers rub quick circles on your over-sensitive clit.

“I — I don’t want to come again,” you cry out.

“Oh, you won’t,” she speaks instead. “Don’t get too greedy and take it,” she orders, cupping your chin before pushing you between her legs again. Her patience could only last this long before she would snap.

“Right, because you can take it, right?” Johnny asks, tilting his head to get a peak of your flustered face. You’re burning up, sweat pearling your skin, the shorter hair sticking to your forehead, eyes blinking out tears of pleasure, and body squirming while you try so hard to keep focus on the only thing you have to do.

You doubt you can, but you still nod, moans getting choked up in your throat and against her cunt as you try to use your tongue and mouth the best you can even if control is slipping out of you more and more.

Fighting the orgasm is probably worse than keeping focus. Your stomach is upside down, and you feel all your nerves tense up, every single touch makes you jolt up and you know your throat will be sore by the end of the night for all the moans you’re letting out.

And you slip, eyes closing and mouth getting lazy as your body limply gets slammed between them.

“Hey,” you’re startled when her palm meets your face in quick, light slaps to wake you up, “don’t you fucking dare,” it’s the only warning that slips from her mouth, so sternly it should make you obey on the spot, but it only makes it harder for you to hold back. “Put that mouth to good use, come on.”

You don’t have a choice —not that you would want to do anything else— when she forces your face down again, this time grinding her hips against you to help you out, or honestly, to fuck herself against you because you’re not doing so much anymore.

She scoffs, “You’re being so good for Johnny, bet your pussy is sucking him in so well, dripping down to his balls and clenching tight, you can’t do one thing for me?”

You gasp for air when she yanks you back by the end of your hair, letting you breathe again, watching the tears fall freely from your pretty eyes. Your lashes are clumped together, and some mascara stained your cheeks; so, so pretty, she could stare at you forever.

“I can. I — I promise, I’ll be your good girl, I’ll give you what you want, fuck,” you mumble, words tangling on your tongue.

You’re so fucked out that spit is dripping down your chin, mixing with her cum, and she can’t fight the urge to smear it on your face.

Aaliyah could come by that sight only. To think when she first saw you were shily standing in a corner, trying to have less attention possible on you, stuttering your words at the speech your father made you hold, and almost fell down the stage. And now, you’re a mess in their bed, far away from home after you followed them blindly.

“Good, then use your fingers, come on,” she orders, biting her lips as you struggle to push your body up to finger her. This is exciting, with Johnny it had always been a fight for dominance, but with you, everything works perfectly, you fit between them with ease.

Johnny’s hands help you stand up, but he can’t deny how hot he finds the way you can’t control your body. He wishes he could see your face, you must be so pretty all messed up, but he’ll use his imagination.

“Come on, honey, fuck her, she took such good care of you,” Johnny encourages you, and that’s all you need to push two fingers inside of her. Her warm walls welcome you with ease, cum coating them until it drips down on your wrist.

Aaliyah’s face twists in an expression of pleasure as soon as you start curling your fingers. You’re definitely better with them than you are with your mouth, but it’s fine, there will be time to practice if you ever want to stick around.

“Good girl,” she praises, caressing your cheek gently before pulling you in a kiss. Doing so, Johnny slips out of you, and you whine at the loss, but soon enough he’s fucking into you again.

“Won’t — won’t last long,” you whimper, crying more as you feel heavier.

Johnny hums, pushing you down again and you lazily go back to lapping on her pussy while your fingers keep moving.

“Come here,” you hear him say, but he’s not talking to you. You can’t see, but you know they’re kissing because you feel smaller and more trapped as their bodies get closer, and then the wet sounds of their lips hit your ears. Their moans mix in their mouth, and you can feel the desperation they’re sharing as their teeth clash together.

You want to kiss them too, but you have other things to worry about, like the orgasm you can’t hold in anymore.

“Want to come, please,” you beg, tears adding to the mess between her legs as you try to gasp for more air.

They pull away from the kiss, bringing their attention to you another time.

“You want to come?” You nod swiftly. She’s sure you’re not doing it on purpose but the way your big eyes are looking up at her and your lips tremble, make her heart warm up. You’re so precious. “Then don’t stop fucking me,” she orders, voice low that causes your stomach to twist again. “Don’t stop being a perfect, little, mindless fuckdoll for us.”

Johnny growls, rolling his head back, “Fuck, stop talking to her like that, she’s squeezing me.”

Aaliyah chuckles darkly, sweetly mockingly caressing your wet cheeks. “You want me to stop talking to her because you can’t handle a sweet pussy sucking you in?”

He rolls his eyes and throws his head back, scoffing at her comment.

“It’s not my fault she likes it when I talk down to her,” she coos, looking at him but her words hit you deep. It’s so humiliating the way they’re talking about you as if you’re not here, and yet, it only makes you wetter. “I could do so much more, but I doubt she can take it.”

I can. You scream, but it stays inside your brain, no words can come out of your mouth anymore.

They both giggle at your broken moan that comes out as a reply.

“No thoughts left in that little mind of yours, uhm?” Johnny teases, his fingers playing with your nipples making you cry out more.

Your head is abandoned on her thigh, drool dripping out of the corner of your lips while your fingers pump in and out in tired, messy movements. You’re so far gone that she has to help you fuck her by guiding your wrist.

“Except how good it feels to be surrounded by us. You love it when we trap you between us and make you feel small, don’t you? Bet you’d love it even more if I fucked your mouth with a toy while he fucked your pussy, or maybe the other way around.”

You yelp when someone smacks your ass, you don’t care to figure out if it’s him or her. It doesn’t matter, it only adds to the pleasure and dizziness.

“Or maybe we could each take a hole and stuff you til you break,” Johnny giggles lowly. “Your tight ass and pussy spread by us.”

“Please,” you cry out. Please make me come and please do it. Please fuck me at the same time, from both ends and until I’m nothing between you. But it stays inside, they get it anyway, like they get all of you.

“C’mere,” Johnny chuckles as he manoeuvres you, lifting your body and pushing you closer to his wife. You’re kneeling now, body slumped against hers while he presses you flat, your fingers still moving inside of her while you moan in the crook of her neck. It feels warm, almost romantic, and you feel so small.

The hand that is not helping you fuck her, wraps around your waist and starts rubbing circles on your burning hot skin, meeting Johnny’s that doing the same.

“Look at you, doll, you’ve been so good. What do you say, John, should she come?” Aaliyah’s voice is particularly sweet, reaching your ear like a faint melody and you feel farther and farther from your body.

“I think she deserves it,” Johnny replies, kissing your neck to distract you from his hand slipping down to your clit.

Your teeth sink into her skin, making her hiss, not in pain but most in surprise, and your face wets even more while a loud sob rips from your throat.

“Come on, princess,” she whispers close to you, leaving pecks on top of your head, “be a good girl and come with us.”

You don’t let them tell you twice when their pace fastens and all the stimuli get to your head one last time. This orgasm is like an explosion that leaves you trembling between their bodies, whimpering and moaning as the violent waves shock you to the core.

“Fuck, so fucking tight,” Johnny murmurs under his breath, hips slamming messily against your ass as he chases his orgasm. He’s caught up in your face before his eyes fall on his wife’s pussy, you stopped fucking her and she’s trying to rub her fingers on her clit, if you weren’t so far gone, brain mush in your skull, she would’ve said something, but she knows is no use now.

You’re collapsed on her body when your eyes trail between her legs, watching in awe as Johnny’s fingers fuck her fast and his thumb rubs her clit as he keeps pouding into you. Their moans are louder as they approach their release and her head falls against the board of the bed while her hands clench around your waist to hold onto something.

And you come again. An unexpected fourth orgasm washes over you, ass arching up and nails sinking into her thigh as you feel as life is being sucked away from you, and that’s what pushes them over the edge, your soft, broken whimpers mixing with theirs and your low mumbles of their names, it’s not Mr. and Mrs. Suh, is Johnny and Aaliyah now, only for you.

More curses fill the air before everything comes to a stop, Johnny’s body falling on yours for a second before he forces himself to pull out and roll to the side.

“Hey, it’s alright, it’s alright. Come here,” she whispers, soothing you as she pulls your body closer, hugging you and caressing your back and hair. You’re still shaking and crying, and your hands wrap quickly around her. “You’re fine, we’re here. It’s over.”

Soon after you feel Johnny’s hands too, and then his soothing words. “You’ve been so good, princess. Was it fun?”

His question is left unanswered, and they understand it will take you a while to start talking again. So they keep whispering sweet words to your ears while their hands calm you down with gentle touches. You don’t remember how long it takes before you fall into a deep slumber, but you know you feel a sense of peace you never felt before.

When you wake up, the clock hits midnight, you’re alone in the bed but you’re cleaned up and you’re dressed in a white shirt that reaches your thighs.

Somehow your legs carry your body out of the room and down the stairs where you take a sigh of relief seeing them laughing as they sit at the table. They’re dressed again, Johnny’s hair is brushed in its place, and her braids are pulled up in a bun again, they look as composed as usual but more familiar.

“Hey, you’re up?” Johnny is the first one who sees you and welcomes you with a sweet smile.

“We were starving. We wanted you to eat but you fell asleep, and for how intense it was we figured you were going to sleep until morning,” Aaliyah explains, moving a stool so you could sit between them, tapping on the seat to signal you to reach them.

You push your feet forward, legs wobbly and heart still racing, but this time is not the orgasm. You’re still lost in the haze, but now you’re fully aware of what happened, and you don’t know how to act in the aftermath.

“Are you alright? You stopped talking, it worried us a bit,” she says, lifting her hand to caress your nape after she tucked your hair behind your ear.

You nod, shoulders dropping as the tension disappears at her touch. “I’m fine. I guess it was a lot, it never happened before.”

Johnny comes back to you with a glass of water and some bowls with different food, leaving you a choice between fruits, something sweet, and something salty.

“Thanks,” you reply, grabbing the glass and gulping it in one go. “Honestly, I’m not really hungry,” you say, eyes diverting their gazes, there’s still a bit of worry behind them and you’re not used to people caring so much for you, especially after sex. You don’t think you ever saw a one-night-stand the morning after, but not even your exes cared much about how you felt after sex.

“No? Do you need something else?” Johnny asks, a caring tone filling his words, and the look in his eyes is different than all the other times before.

You look around, shaking your head, your throat is dry again and from the corner of your eyes, you see her filling the glass again. You smile shyly before drinking it. “I… I don’t want to sleep alone,” you confess, biting your lips and playing with the hem of the glass in your hands.

They smile, hands cupping yours before holding tight. “We had no intention of leaving you alone,” they say at the same time, making you smile.

“A bit paranoid, aren’t you?” Johnny jokes while Aaliyah leaves to put the food back in its place. You might be awake but it’s clear as daylight that you’re still tired and want to sleep.

“Mhh,” you mumble. Your eyes lift to look at Johnny and you smile. He looks beautiful, the faint silver light of the moonlight paiting his cheekbones and hair.

“And still not very talkative,” she adds when she comes back, a soft look in her eyes. “Come on, there’s no need to talk, let’s get you to bed.” She stretches a hand out and you quickly grab it, jumping off the chair but regretting it when your legs make it known they’re not back just yet.

You gasp when two arms wrap around you and lift you up, and soon you’re met with Johnny’s eyes. You smile at him before locking eyes with her who’s following behind and quickly is at your side.

“Thanks,” you whisper because he’s carrying you but mostly, for the night you spent. You decide you will worry tomorrow, for now, you feel full, they made you feel wanted, and dare to say, even loved. It’s all that matters.

“You have to be grateful, he stopped carrying me upstairs a long time ago,” she jokes and Johnny scoffs, “Liar.”

And soon the three of you are in the bed again, the dirty duvet is not on the mattress anymore and a thinner blanket covers you. You’re in the middle, pressed between their bodies while they leave kisses on your face, and whisper sweet words to you, their hands intertwined on your stomach while their thumbs rub small circles on your skin.

And as sleep takes over you again, you think that there’s no other place you’d rather be, if not between them.

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#nct fanfiction #johnny smut #johnny suh smut #johnny scenarios #johnny seo smut #johnny hard hours #johnny hard thoughts #mxfxf #bisexual reader #nct x black reader #nct 127 smut #nct smut #nct dilf

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the-dumpster-fire-of-life · 5 months

Note

hi!! could you write grover x nymph reader? where reader went to yancy and stuff with him for percy. shes very fem and confident and doesnt rly care about combat or the rules, her and grover butt heads alot bc she wanted to let percy run around and do whatever he wanted while grover tried to be a good influence. shes the only person grover is willing to argue w because she makes fun of him alot but shes rly just trying to encourage him to stand up for himself. maybe on tlt quest they have to work together to look after percy and annabeth and they realise they dont hate eachother as much as they thought? sorry if thats too specific im tryna abide by ur post 😭

if not thats okay!! i loved ur soulmate clarisse fic <3

Sure! Here ya go, and thank you for the request and listening to my post, lol. I’m glad you liked my clarisse fix, and enjoy!

Too Bad

Grover followed right after you, the two of you sent away to look for some food while Annabeth and Percy hung back.

“I just don’t get why you have to be so difficult!”

“I’m difficult?!” You exclaimed, spinning around to look at Grover in disbelief.

“Yes! Why? Why do you always have to argue?!” Grover asked in exasperation.

“I haven’t been arguing with you.” You shook your head, only getting a wide eyed look from Grover.

For as long as he had known you, you loved to argue. It could be anything and everything, and it wasn’t even with everyone.

You just always had it out for him, and he didn’t know why.

You were everything Grover wasn’t, and sometimes without meaning too, Grover couldn’t help but be envious.

You were confident, you stood up for anyone and everyone of your friends, even if they could be wrong. That just never seemed to apply to him.

He didn’t like it, and just wanted this to be over but you were making it so hard. You let Percy run a mock, doing whatever he wanted while he tried to be a good influence.

What did that get Grover?

Another argument.

“Uh- yes, yes you do!” Grover said in disbelief. “You make fun of me, go against anything I say, and you always want to pick a fight!”

“So?!” You exclaimed, throwing your hands up in exasperation as they hit your sides.

“There’s no reason to! Especially because you do it just for me!” Grover complained.

“Because you Don’t stand up for yourself!” You said, Grover stopped as he look at you in confusion.

“Yes- yes, I do.” Grover sputtered, shaking his head after a beat of silence. You sighed, shaking your head.

“You let people walk all over you, Grover. You give in, you’re too nice, and-“ You tried.

“How is that a bad thing?” Grover asked. “Because you can’t be someone’s doormat, Grover.” You stated, giving a pointed look.

Grover just stared at you for a moment Before trying again. “But you’re the one who’s been doing it...” he said, a bit suspiciously.

“No, not me.” You shook your head, laughing under your breath as Grover looked at you confused.

“With me, you argue back, you stand up for yourself. You wouldn’t have done that before, would you?” You asked, Grover silent for a moment as he thought about it.

“…you were doing it…to help me?” Grover asked, almost struggling to understand. You nodded your head, smiling smugly.

“And it worked, didn’t it?” You asked, watching as he mulled it over.

“Your teaching methods are…questionable,” Grover started, getting an offended “hey!” From you.

Grover ignored you, thinking before looking back at you. “But I get it, though.” He nodded.

“See?” You asked, chuckling a bit. Grover couldn’t help but smile a bit as well. He has never thought about it that way.

He had to look away after a second though, because now he had more time too look and see, that the old feeling he felt when looking at you wasn’t exactly envy.

Now, all Grover felt was awe, and a bit of longing as he saw your smile.

You weren’t so bad, especially with your pretty smile, especially when you’re smiling at him

#percy tv show #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy series #percy pjo #percy and annabeth #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #grover pjo #grover underwood x reader #grover underwood #grover

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bruh-changbin · 7 months

Text

think pink

pairing: pink power ranger!hyunjin x afab reader

genre: smut, stupidity (minors dni)

warnings: oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), public sex kinda?, unprotected sex (be safe), creampie, tit sucking, alcohol consumption, very brief mention of female masturbation

word count: 8.2K

a/n: IM AT A CONCERT DRESSED AS SLUTTY LIGHTNING MCQUEEN RN WOOHOOOOOOO (this is a queued post). happy horny halloween mofos! very glad to be posting this fc bc i was supposed to post it last year and then just gave up LMAO so she's been a long time comin. pls give her some love i would really appreciate it!!! hope you all have/had a super safe sexy halloween!

october is overrated.

i mean sure, there is something undeniably cozy and heart-warming about crunchy leaves and pumpkin patches and all of the other shit that comes in the ‘fall aesthetic’ package. but the truth is that october is too windy, halloween is overhyped, and pumpkin spice tastes like ass.

and who wants to go to a halloween party where you can’t dress like a slut because of the wind chill? no one.

“you’re too negative.” jeongin sips his starbucks while keeping his eyes trained on the road, his left hand gripping the steering wheel of his beat up silver volkswagen jetta that he calls his baby, his pride and joy.

“i’m just telling it like it is,” you shift in the passenger seat to face him, “there is no need for so much hype around a mediocre holiday. what’s there to enjoy about getting violently drunk and stuffing your face with so much candy you feel sick?”

“listen y/n, i don’t know what your problem is but halloween is fun.” he appears to stop there, but then keeps going, “and i will not have your sour attitude ruin my favourite holiday.”

you just scoff and gaze out the window at all of the trees now bursting with shades of red, orange, yellow.

as if sensing something was off from your previous conversation, jeongin breaks the silence “you’re still coming to jackson’s party though, right? i don’t wanna go alone…”

“you won’t be alone,” you counter, “seungmin will be there.”

jeongin groans, “but seungmin’s so boring at parties. all he does is complain about how bad alcohol tastes and try to talk to people about books and films. i don’t trust a bitch that says films instead of movies! they always think they’re better than everyone.”

“that’s not true, seungmin’s fun at parties!” albeit you do admit you’ve only been to one party with seungmin where he went buck wild and were later told that that is very uncharacteristic of him.

jeongin’s expression turns sour, and you start to take pity on him.

“innie, i promised you i’d go to this party. when have i ever broken a promise? i’ll be there, alright?”

with that his face softens, and he goes back to his regular chatty self.

“knowing jackson it’s gonna be even bigger and better than last year. and you know y/n, i’m pretty sure hyunjin’s going as well.”

your heart drops to your stomach at the mention of his name.

you try to act as nonchalant as possible, “why would i care if hyunjin’s there or not?”

“because you’re in love with him.”

“i am not in love with him.”

jeongin scoffs, “please, i see those googly eyes you make every time you see him - scratch that, everytime his name is mentioned. and you sucked his dick.”

“oh so the second you put a guys dick in your mouth you instantaneously fall in love with him?”

“okay fine! maybe you don’t love him but there’s something there, no denying it,” he pauses, and then adds, “and i for one think it’s something worth pursuing.”

leaning your face against the passenger side window, you sigh contemplatively, “that ship has sailed, my friend. at this point hyunjin probably doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

“i don’t know y/n, he still seems a little…. hung up on you,” jeongin attempts to reason with you, “why don’t you try talking to him?”

“what the fuck would i even say to him? hey hyunjin, everytime i think of you i get really really wet. could you please bend me over the nearest hard surface and fuck me so hard i can’t walk for a week???!!!!”

“so vulgar and for what.”

you roll your eyes, “shut up jeongin. if you want me to get with him so badly, maybe… i don’t know, help?”

“no way. you two are adults, you can sort it out yourself.”

“gee, what would i do without you and your incessant outpour of advice jeongin?” you tease, since jeongin is inherently quite awful at offering meaningful advice.

“i give good advice!!! you just never take it,” your best friend scowls as he drives through campus, pulling into a parking lot located in the midst of all of your school's buildings.

“sure innie, whatever makes you feel better,” you grab your tote bag off of the floor of the passenger seat and step out of jeongin’s car. as soon as you’re outside a brisk gust of wind engulfs you, the chill making its way through your sweater and making you shudder; you should’ve worn a thicker jacket.

jeongin does the same as you, slamming the driver door shut before grabbing his own stuff from the backseat.

“i’ll see you in a couple hours, kay? text me when your class is done,” he states before heading off towards to library, his broad shoulders protected from the frigid fall weather with a thick wool sweater and a puffy black scarf. the heels of his boots scuff the pavement as he trudges away, pulling out his headphones as he prepares for a couple hours of studying.

you make out in the opposite direction of your friend, heading towards the building where your lecture hall is located. all around you students are dressed in jackets and thick sweaters, scarves donning their necks and leg warmers wrapped around their ankles. the grey sky makes everything appear dull, spare for the bright coloured leaves that have been blown off the trees and crunch under the weight of your boots when you step on them.

soon you make it to your lecture hall, revelling in the warmth of being inside as you slowly close the doors behind you and making your way over to your (un)official seat. ever since the amount of people attending lecture every week started to decrease, you staked your claim on a seat in your favourite section of the room and refuse to sit elsewhere.

after a couple minutes of waiting your prof begins class, delving into lecture without a hitch as you attempt to scribble down notes. however, just as you’re about to get into the meat of today's class, your focus is broken when a late-comer yanks open the doors to the room with full force.

in walks hwang hyunjin, and a small part of you dies inside.

as the metal door swings shut behind him with a dramatic bang! you lock eyes with him just for a second before his gaze is averted to your professor who he gives a small, apologetic smile to.

in your head you’re screaming don’t you fucking dare hwang hyunjin as he walks closer and closer and closer to where you’re sitting in the sparsely populated lecture hall. you roll your eyes so hard your head hurts when hyunjin chooses the seat almost directly in front of you (just a little off to the side so it looks like it was a total accident - fuck you hwang).

of course you knew that hyunjin was in this class as well, but he’s usually on time and usually sits far away from you, at the back of the lecture hall. today he just feels like being an asshole, i guess.

hyunjin’s weird. he’s weird because he had the hots for you during the sweltering summer months, when jeongin rented a beachside airbnb for a week and invited all of his close friends - including you and hyunjin. he’s weird because he always applied sunscreen on your back and helped you cut up watermelon and sat beside you during bonfires. he’s weird because when everyone else left to go to the pier he encouraged you to stay back and yanked on your hair while you sucked his dick, bit your bottom lip with his front teeth, and fucked you so hard you saw stars.

he’s weird because he now pretends that the two of you have no history and fucks with you on purpose by shooting you flirty looks when he sees you at get togethers or on campus but does nothing more than that. he knows that you think about him, but does he think about you too?

staring at the back of his ebony-haired head, you can’t shake the image of hyunjin on top of you, his puffy bottom lip pulled between his teeth as he fucked you into his mattress, out of your head. the needy whines and groans he emitted when his cock was down your throat are ringing in your ears; you cross your legs under your desk in a pathetic attempt to ease the ache you feel in your cunt that you hate yourself for. come on brain, we cannot be horny during lecture! focus!!!

the next few hours drag on and on and on as you force yourself to keep your vision trained on either your notebook or your prof, resisting the urge to allow yourself to gaze upon the man who occupies your thoughts almost 24/7 (which is so not feminist of you btw).

ergo, when your prof finishes lecture 20 minutes early, you heave a sigh of relief. great, now you can gtfo and go finger yourself in the bathroom before getting jeongin to drive you home. but of course, a certain someone decides to ruin your plans by turning around and leaning against your desk, his dark chocolate eyes staring down at you mischievously.

“are you coming to jackson’s party?”

is he talking to you?

“are you talking to me?”

hyunjin looks around while the few other students surrounding the two of you scramble to pack their bags, “i mean, who else would i be talking to.”

“i don’t know,” you shrug, “anyone but me i guess.”

god this is so awkward. gag me with a spoon.

“you didn’t answer my question.”

“hmm?” you pretend to busy yourself with the task of shoving your pencil case into your near empty school bag.

“jackson’s party? you coming? jeongin said you were.”

of course he fucking did. because jeongin just loves stirring the pot.

“oh, uh yeah. i’ll be there.”

“what are you going to dress up as?” hyunjin clearly does not see how much you want to end this conversation - or maybe he does, and he just likes seeing you squirm. bitch.

“i don’t know yet.”

“the party’s tomorrow… and you still don’t know what you’re gonna be?”

“nope.”

“oh.”

hyunjin’s lips curl into a subtle smirk and you know he’s just dying for you to ask him the same thing, so you do.

“what are you dressing up as, hwang?”

his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he swings his backpack over one shoulder, “i guess you’ll just have to find out.”

and with that, he leaves you alone in the lecture hall with your professor, your half-packed bag, and your soaked panties.

.･:*◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤Ξ ҉ ◢▅◣Ξ ҉ ◥▅◤☾*:･˙

back in jeongin’s jetta as he gives you a ride home, you complain about hyunjin.

“he’s fucking with me on purpose, i just know it. god! he’s such a…. just like a little…. WEASEL! he’s a fucking weasel.”

“come on y/n, he’s not that bad,” jeongin sticks up for hyunjin, who is also his friend, mind you.

all you do is wave him off, “you don’t know how it feels to be played by a man that beautiful, innie.”

jeongin throws in the towel, and the two of you drive along the paved roads of your town in silence. as you continue to move along you soon find

“that forest still gives me the creeps.”

”come on, you seriously still don’t believe in all of that ‘lost john’ bullshit, do you?”

lost john’s forest is somewhat of a fable in your town; folklore, if you will. for ages people have been passing around this story about how a tourist named john who was exploring the town wandered into that forest one day to never be seen again. there are some variations, of course. some people say that they’ve seen john out and about, or that john was actually a cult leader and if you go into the woods you’re bound to get sacrificed. no one knows if john actually ever existed, or if the story is just all horseshit used as a cautionary tale to keep kids out of the forest at night.

doesn’t make it any less creepy though.

you huff as you stare at the endless sea of trees you’re driving past, “it’s not that i actually believe in it, it’s just that those stories come from somewhere, you know?”

jeongin doesn’t seem to understand the point you’re trying to get across, “...so?”

“so there’s gotta be at least some truth to them, right? or else where did they come from?”

“i don’t know y/n, i think it’s all made up to scare kids.”

the two of you sit in silence for a moment as you pass the last stretch of lost john’s forest before being surrounded by houses, apartment complexes and coffee shops once again.

“hey, do you know what costume hyunjin’s wearing to the party?”

as soon as the question passes your lips you regret it, and your regret increases tenfold when a devilish smirk makes its way onto jeongins face.

“oh! i thought you’d gotten over hyunjin, but here you are asking what he’s dressing up as for halloween. interesting!”

“oh my god jeongin shut the fuck up!! it’s not like that, he was just being a twat when i asked him about it in lecture today,” you huff in annoyance over your friends antics. and for the record you’ve never said that you were over hyunjin, just that you aren’t in love with him.

“sure y/n, whatever you need to tell yourself,” jeongin laughs, clearly thinking that he’s won this little scuffle, “you need to figure out a costume though.”

“ugh i know.” you scratch your head tentatively, “what are you going as?”

“a banana”

you can’t help the chuckle that escapes your lips. is he for real?

“what’s so funny?” jeongin questions, his brow quirked.

“really? a fucking banana?”

“what’s wrong with that?”

“it’s a dumb costume, that’s what’s wrong.”

“it’s not dumb y/n, you just have no taste.”

“oh i have plenty of taste - that’s how i can tell your costume is bad.”

“it’s not bad it’s just- why are you being such a bitch right now?”

“did you just call me a bitch??!”

“yes i did because you’re being one!!”

“okay well SORRY for telling you that your costume is STUPID!!!”

“oh yeah? well in that case good luck finding a way to jackson’s party because I’M NOT TAKING YOU ANYMORE!!!”

“FINE!”

“FINE!!”

“FUCK YOU JEONGIN!!”

“FUCK YOU Y/N!!!!!”

in a fit of blind rage you grab your bag and shove you way out of jeongin’s car, a gust of wind ruffling your clothes as he speeds off as soon as you slam the door behind you. he is totally in the wrong here. you were just being a good friend, looking out for him by telling him that he’s setting himself up to look like a total idiot.

a squeal sounds behind you as jeongin floors it away from your house, the smell of burning rubber lingering around where his car was moments ago. what an aquarius you think to yourself as you head into your house, tossing your bag to the floor with a thump as soon as you’re inside. whatever, fuck jeongin! you’ll show him that you can have fun without him.

.･:*◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤Ξ ҉ ◢▅◣Ξ ҉ ◥▅◤☾*:･˙

“okay, what about this one?”

seungmin is in your bedroom for the first time ever.

which is weird, since the two of you have been friends for some time now. but hey, he’s here now eating chocolate covered pretzels while perched on the corner of your bed helping you pick out a costume for jackson’s halloween party.

“it’s cute.”

“... just cute? anything else?”

“i don’t know, you look… nice?”

you heave a sigh of frustration, “you know seungmin you really suck at this.”

he raises his hands in defence, “sorry! i’ve never done this before, you’re my only female friend.”

“yea yea whatever,” you command him to stop speaking with a wave of your hand, eyes flitting back and forth between the two costume options you’ve spread out on your floor and the one currently donning your body.

“so the final contenders are olive from easy a, slutty michael myers, and…” you look down at your legs, which are clad in the same black latex stockings you wore for halloween last year, “a sexy nun.”

seungmin shakes his head, “don’t do the last one, that’s blasphemous.”

“okay… sexy nun is out. i’m thinking easy a, you?”

seungmin ponders for a moment, his eyes squinted as he gazes at both the easy a and slutty mike myers costumes splayed across your carpeted floor.

“i second that, your boobs will look killer in a corset,” he eventually attests before shoving a couple more chocolate covered pretzels in his mouth.

you playfully smack his shoulder, “see min! you are good at choosing outfits.”

he just smirks in response before dusting the pretzel crumbs on his fingers off on his pants. with your arms full of discarded garments you head over to your closet, putting the clothing items of the unchosen costumes back in their place.

“hey can i ask you a question?” seungmin quips from your bed, where he’s now made himself comfortable by lying down and scrolling through twitter.

“shoot,” you say while hanging up your navy blue jumpsuit.

seungmin pauses his scrolling to ask, “how come you didn’t ask jeongin to help you with this? i mean, not that i don’t like helping you or anything, but you guys are like always together.”

ugh. jeongin. just hearing his name makes you

“we got into an argument,” you explain, opting to foresee the fact that said argument was over a fucking halloween costume, “he’s being petty, and i don’t want anything to do with him at the moment. and he keeps getting ”

seungmins brows raise momentarily before he responds, “it seems to me that both of you are being petty. also what happened with hyunjin?”

shit. you totally forgot seungmin isn’t caught up on everything that’s gone down. it’s his fault in all honesty, always opting to stay home instead of hanging out.

“uhhh it’s nothing,” you decide now isn’t the best time to get into everything, “but hey, you’re supposed to be on my side here!”

“i am!!! but why don’t we forget about your drama and watch….. coraline. capisce?”

coraline does sound nice, so you tug on your pyjama pants and join seungmin on your bed to indulge in a fitting movie.

.･:*◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤Ξ ҉ ◢▅◣Ξ ҉ ◥▅◤☾*:･˙

today is halloween.

today is halloween and you’re dreading it.

seungmin slept over last night and the two of you have been lounging around all day in preparation for tonight, which you are not looking forward to, what with both hyunjin and jeongin being there.

neither you nor jeongin have reached out to the other, both too stupid to be the first one to text the other and apologise. whatever, he’s the one who was up your ass about coming to this party, you’re gonna prove that you don’t have to follow him around like a lost dog at every function.

when it comes time to get ready you blast deftones and the twilight soundtrack (much to seungmins dismay) while painting your face. when it comes time to get into your outfit you recruit seungmin to help, making him stand behind you and yank the ties on your lacy black corset. with each tug you can feel the boning hug your ribs and stomach tighter and tighter before the mere action of breathing is uncomfortable.

it’s just for a couple hours you remind yourself while pulling on your black mini skirt and grabbing a pair of black sunnies from your vanity. the glossy scarlet red ‘a’ that you hand stitched onto the left breast of your corset last night glints in the mirror as you examine yourself, perfectly content with the costume you managed to pull off in less than 24 hours.

“holy shit, how can you breathe in that thing?” seungmin says as he stares at you from the same place on your bed, seemingly taken aback by the resilience of your rib cage.

“it’s for fashion, min! this halloween is all about reprisal, and i wanna look damn good while doing it.”

“okay shakespeare,” he jests before grabbing his costume from where it’s laying on the floor. it takes him a mere minute to throw on his outfit, and you envy him for it.

once you’re finally sure that you’re ready you toss a few tequila shots back in your kitchen as seungmin watches, stating he doesn’t wanna get fucked up tonight (when does he ever) but relents when you ask him to do at least one shot to keep him warm on the walk over to jackson’s.

the bite of the night autumn air has you questioning if you even want to go when you step out onto your porch, the leather jacket you borrowed from seungmin hanging from your shivering shoulders. no, you can’t back down now. with a skip in your step you all but drag seungmin off of your porch, those tequila shots slowly but surely making their way through your system.

by now many of the trick or treaters that lined the streets earlier in the evening have retired to bed, leaving the rest of the holiday to be celebrated by the mature population. so, the roads are mainly empty as you walk down them, the pavement damp and shiny.

when you arrive at jackson’s place you take pity on his neighbours, for the music is so loud it seems as if it might trigger a small earthquake. a few scattered groups of people are on the lawn but most are inside, and you can see the party raging through the front windows. seungmin doesn’t say anything, just shoots you a knowing look before the two of you make your way inside.

immediately upon entering you’re almost ploughed over by a guy in one of those blow up t-rex costumes, who barely spares a look at you before running away and continuing to wreak havoc.

“i don’t think I’m drunk enough for this min, we should just go,” you turn to leave but to your surprise are stopped by seungmin.

“come on y/n, we’re already here. let’s just stay for a bit, ok?” he reasons, and you relent with a dramatic sigh.

out of the corner of your eye you catch of glimpse of someone waving to you; actually, waving to seungmin, motioning him to head over there. you see 3 guys, one in a red power ranger suit, another in a green and yet another in a pink. the puzzle in your brain slowly pieces together as you glance down at seungmins blue power ranger suit.

don’t tell me….

the 3 guys pull off their masks at the same time, and you’re met with the grinning faces of jeongin (red), hyunjin (pink), and their friend jisung (green). and just to add more salt on the wound, a boy name felix whom you’ve meet a handful of times shows up with his friends dressed in a yellow ranger suit. stupid! you should’ve know seungmin was a part of a group costume, who would dress up as a solo power ranger?

“why didn’t you tell me that you were doing a stupid group costume with jeongin and hyunjin!” you sock seungmin in the shoulder.

“i didn’t think it mattered!” he whines while rubbing the spot where you punched him.

“well it does, because now we have to spend the whole night with them,” you whine, although what you said isn’t necessarily true. you’re just salty because seungmin is supposed to be on your side in this whole debacle, and because jeongin decided to change his costume after your quarrel in his car the other day.

much to your dismay, seungmin wraps his bony fingers around your wrist and drags you towards the group of his friends, towards your doom. as soon and jeongin realizes you’re headed this way he departs, running up the stairs like the coward he is.

“seungmin! you made it!” jisung exclaims, clearly already a couple drinks in and clearly unable to sense the tension between you and everyone else.

“haha, yep!” seungmin answers sheepishly as you wrench your wrist free from his grasp. traitor!

you sulk as you listen to felix, seungmin and jisung talk about god knows what, probably video games or baseball or something stupid. it doesn’t help that you can overhear parts of hyunjins conversation with the girl that felix brought. thankfully, you’re blessed with the gift of being able to tune everything out if you so chose, so you stand there in silence and dream about going home.

it isn’t long until you can sense a looming presence beside you, and you snap out of your stupor to see hyunjin standing only a few feet away from you. the way his eyes scan the expanse of your body doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“so,” he starts, arms widespread in a clear gesture to his costume, “what do you think?”

“geez, and people say girls dress like sluts. you know i can see your whole dick print, right?” you taunt,

“nothing you haven’t seen before,” he sneers while his eyes scan the length of your body, hyper focusing on the red ‘a’ sewn into your corset, “what…. what are you?”

how uncultured!

“olive from easy a. you know, emma stone’s character?” you state matter of factly, arms folded across your chest.

“never seen it.”

“really?” you ask, genuinely shocked since hyunjin seems to love fun cult classics. and because he’s friends with seungmin, who's seen about every movie under the sun.

“really,” he reaches over and picks up his drink from where he left it on the counter, “off topic, but a couple people about to play truth or dare in one of the bedrooms upstairs, you should come. or don’t, i don’t care.”

and with that the boy dressed as the pink ranger turns on his heel and walks away, patting whoever was dressed in the yellow ranger costume on the back as a signal to hit the road.

truth or dare? for real? didn’t realise this was a high school party.

you make your way over to seungmin, who’s busy playing with the pop tab attached to the lid of his mikes hard lemonade. it’s clear he doesn’t really plan on talking to anyone else all night, and is only here because you dragged him and he had a duty to fulfil as a result of being part of a group costume.

“they’re about to play truth or dare upstairs min, can you believe that?” you scoff, feeling your cheeks warm up as a result of the alcohol you’ve consumed.

seungmin makes a noise of agreeance, his lip quirking upwards as he responds, “for real? that game is just so…. childish.”

both of you nod before looking at the floor, you drawing small circles with your feet and seungmin playing with his pop tab again.

“but it is kinda fun, you know?” seungmin speaks up first.

“no you’re right,” silence again, and then you add, “should we go join?”

all seungmin does is nod and pass you your drink before the two of you make your way upstairs, opening to the door to a bathroom and accidentally interrupting some kind of fuck session before finding the correct bedroom and slinking inside.

.･:*◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤Ξ ҉ ◢▅◣Ξ ҉ ◥▅◤☾*:･˙

a messy circle of people meets you when you enter, with everyone sitting on the floor or bed or chairs that were definitely stolen from the dining room. there aren't a ton of people, maybe 13 or so, but you seem to know everyone at least to a certain extent.

“nice costume, y/n,” jeongin practically emerges form the shadows to sneer at you, his voice laced with poison.

“thanks jeongin, it is a nice costume. what happened to you going as a banana? did you heed my advice and finally realise it was a stupid idea?”

all he does is scoff at this, choosing not to retort for the sake of looking like the bigger person.

“jeez, you guys are really pissed at each other, huh?” seungmin remarks while grabbing your wrist and dragging you away from jeongin in case you were about to reach up and slap him.

you don’t respond, but the sour look on your face says it all.

“alright guys, let’s get this started!” hyunjin announces to the room full of people, and all of the individual chatter dies down, “the game is truth or dare, as you all know, but we wanted to make it extra frightening for halloween. jeongin?”

jeongin stalks over to hyunjin, and you’re worried for what he has planned.

“if you do not fulfil your truth or dare, you will face a penalty. that penalty is doing a shot,” he takes a breath, “and showing the entire circle the last nude you sent.”

chaos. everyone erupts in anger at jeongin’s sick idea of a punishment.

“come on jeongin, that is so over the top,” one of the other girls in the room, chaeryeong, shouts above everyone else.

all jeongin does is raise his arms in a shrug, clearly loving playing the villain. ugh, you’re so over him.

“rules are rules you guys! we want to make sure people are following through on their dares! or truths, of course.”

he does have a point there, but still, his rules are a bit excessive.

the room quiets down and a few people decide to get up and leave, opting to not take the risk of exposing themselves if they get stuck with a particularly damning truth or dare.

“great, lets get this show on the road then,” jeongin acts as the ringleader and gets everyone settled, “who wants to go first?”

“me! i wanna go!” jeongins friend felix, the yellow ranger, throws his hand in the air.

“ok felix, truth or dare?”

the rest of the party can be heard as the room falls silent to let felix think, allowing him time to ponder since he was the first to volunteer.

“i’ll go dare,” he finally announces, and a chorus of ooooo’s sound as everyone waits to hear what felix has in store for him.

“i dare you,” jeongin ponders, trying to come up with something juicy and exciting, “to give us your best strip tease!”

everyone shrieks and felix hangs his head in embarrassment before standing up, clearly not backing down from the challenge. someone turns on pony by ginuwine and everyone shrieks even louder as felix starts doing his best strip tease, filled with body rolls and thigh grabbing as he peels the top part of his yellow power ranger costume off, exposing his defined abs and smooth back in the process.

after a couple minutes everyone agrees that he’s done enough and he pulls his costume back one before plopping back down in his seat, his cheeks and ears a bright cherry red. nevertheless, a triumphant smile is plastered on his face as everyone cheers for him having successfully completed the first dare.

the game continues without a hitch; chaeryeong confesses that her first wet dream was about hiccup from how to train your dragon, seungmin has to do a blowjob shot from between felix’s legs (you almost thought he was going to accept the penalty), and you find out that the weirdest place jisung has had sex was in a mcdonald’s bathroom.

suddenly jeongin locks eyes with you and you, knowing that he’s probably had one too many drinks at this point, feel a sense of dread settle in the pit of your stomach.

“y/n! your turn, truth or dare.”

you know that whatever you choose it’s gonna be bad, so you opt to bite the bullet and just go for it.

“uhhhhhh ok, dare.”

in that moment it looks as if jeongin has quite literally embodied the devil himself and you know that you’ve chosen wrong. all you can do is brace yourself for whatever dare he’s about to challenge you to - which you’ll have to fulfill for the sake of not looking like a loser.

“i dare you,” he smiles, “to spend 10 minutes exploring lost john’s forest.”

the room goes silent.

no fucking way. does he want you to die???!!

seungmin comes to your rescue, “come on jeongin, that's a little too intense for a game, don’t you think?”

“a dare is a dare! if y/n doesn’t want to do it she’ll just have to face the penalty instead.”

everyone continues to look around the room tentatively, waiting to see what happens next. most gazes are fixed on you, eyes with with worry and excitement, but some stare at jeongin.

“come on, do you guys seriously still believe in all of those bullshit urban legends? that stuff is just for kids, we’re all adults now!” jeongin speaks up and sips his beer as if to further prove his point.

“regardless of if those rumours are true or not, don’t you think it’s unsafe for y/n to be out in a forest this late at night? you know, alone?” this comes from hyunjin, and you’re surprised he’s sticking up for you.

only after hyunjin’s comment do you see jeongin’s tough guy facade start to waver, but he holds his ground, “y/n’s a big girl, she can speak for herself.”

suddenly everyone’s gaze is on you. dear god, why on earth did you come to this party??

“you know what, fine. fiiiine!!!! i’ll do it,” you declare as you stand up, adjusting your skirt that had shifted in place while you were seated. jeongin’s face deadpans, and that alone is enough to give you the courage

“wait, how will we know if she actually goes to lost john’s forest though? what if she just waits outside and then comes back in 10 minutes later?” jisung quips, and you’re tempted to reach out and slap him across the face. bitch.

“that’s a good point,” jeongin pauses to think, “ok fine, someone should go with her to make sur-”

“i’ll go,” hyunjin volunteers before standing up a little too quickly, which is evident in the way he wobbles slightly before catching his balance.

jeongin’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull at this; it’s clear he wants you to have the worst night ever, meaning being alone in a forest with a guy you have the hots for is strictly off the table “wait no, someone else should go.”

“why? i’m fully capable of escorting y/n to and from lost john’s to make sure nothing bad happens. besides, does anyone else want to volunteer as an escort?” hyunjin retorts before waiting expectantly.

the circle of people sit there, unmoving. after a few seconds seungmin slowly moves to raise his hand but a dirty scowl from hyunjin makes him freeze.

“right then, it’s settled. let’s go y/n” he states while grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the door of the bedroom you’re in.

you look back at jeongin over your shoulder, who clearly isn’t pleased. all you do is shoot him a cheeky half smile before following hyunjin out the room, down the stairs and into the night.

.･:*◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤Ξ ҉ ◢▅◣Ξ ҉ ◥▅◤☾*:･

standing at the edge of lost johns forest, you think you might pass out.

but you neglect to tell hyunjin that.

“you ready?” he asks while shooting you a comforting look, his words have no trace of teasing or mockery.

you look at the vast expanse of trees in front you. it looks as if it stretches on forever and ever, and you gulp as you think of all the possible things that could be inside, waiting for you and hyunjin to enter before striking.

that being said, you’d rather do this with him than do it alone.

“let’s just get this over with. the sooner we’re done here the sooner we’ll get back and I can strangle jeongin.”

hyunjin laughs before offering you his hand, which you take and pray that he doesn’t care about how shaky you are.

making sure to take note of the time on your phone you head into the forest, feeling twigs and leaves snap and crunch under your feet. the exposed skin on your legs stings as a cold gust of wind blows, the trees offering minimal protection.

“you know if you ignore all of the creepy stories about this place, it’s actually quite nice. so quiet…” hyunjin aloud.

“if you’re trying to make me feel better, it’s not working.”

a branch snaps, an owl hoots, you exhale shakily. it’s dark, but the scarcity of leaves still attached to their trees allows for just enough moonlight to seep through the spindly branches. soon enough, the two of you stumble upon a small-ish clearing, opting to stay there as opposed to trekking further and getting lost.

“jesus I hate this, how long has it been?” you ask hyunjin while rubbing your arms in an attempt to wake them up.

“it’s been…. 2 minutes.”

that’s it. this is the worst experience of your life. you are actually going to kill jeongin.

“come on y/n, it’s not that bad in here. at least you have me!” hyunjin tries to comfort you, but you can tell that he’s nervous just like you are.

“please, as if you’d be able to protect me from anything,” you tease, but when hyunjin doesn’t bite back you worry that you’ve struck a nerve, “i am glad you’re here with me, though.”

“i would’ve volunteered to go with anyone, honestly.”

“really?”

“...no.”

a small smile creeps it’s way onto your face at this, and not matter how hard you try you can’t wipe it off.

“sooo you volunteered to go with me because…?”

“because i have…… feelings….” he looks at you, and then looks at the ground, “for you….”

the word that comes to mind upon hearing hyunjins confession is satisfying. satisfying because you’ve known that he’s had feelings for you since the summer, he’s just a shithead. so, you feel satisfied.

“and i know it’s probably unfair for me to say this but i can’t stop thinking about you and i know that this is also the absolute worst place to confess but-“

he doesn’t say anything after that.

he doesn’t say anything because you press your pout against his, breathing in his scent as he kisses you back.

no words need to be exchanged as you briefly pull away before going in for more, hyunjins lips your absolute favourite drug that you crave day and night. a groan escapes hyunjins mouth and he moves to wrap his hand around the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in and tugging on your hair as he pushes you yo against a nearby tree.

with your head tilted to the side you weasel your tongue past his slippery teeth and into his mouth, sliding against his own. both of you parrot each others moans of desire as your hands explore the expanse of hyunjins back and shoulders.

you feel so cold when he pulls away from you, like your only source of heat has been ripped away from you eternally. when you pry your eyes open, not before a dissatisfied huff passes your lips, you see hyunjin descending.

it appears as if he sinks to his knees in slo-mo, eyes never leaving yours as he kisses his way from your knee to the inside of your thigh. with deft fingers he reaches under your skirt and hooks the waistband of your panties around his fingers before dragging them down your legs and tossing them to the side, soon to be forgotten.

“hyunjin,” you breathe, voice already shaky as you anticipate what’s to come (you). he doesn’t say anything, just grabs your right calf and swings your leg over his shoulder, his face now a mere few inches away from your pussy. it feels as if you’re on display for his eyes only, forced to watch as he sucks and nips at your thighs while leaving dark bruises and bite marks in his wake. slowly be surely he inches closer to the place where you want- no, need him most.

when the tip of his wet, pink tongue drags through your cunt your breath catches in your throat. he continues to offer only feeble kitten licks, and soon enough it has you craving more and more, his actions not enough to fulfil the growing desire you can feel boiling inside of you.

with outstretched fingers you reach out and grip a fistful of his raven hair, pulling on it and all but shoving his face impossibly closer to your wet, hot pussy. the tip of his nose nudges your clit, and the one leg that you’re balanced on almost buckles.

“you taste so good, honey,” hyunjin confesses while lazily dragging his fat tongue through your pussy, “sweet like candy.”

“ ‘s just for you, hyun,” your heads rolls back between your shoulders, resting on the tree behind you. for the moment you elect to forget where you are, focusing on the cute boy between your legs instead of the darkness of the surrounding forest that threatens to swallow you whole.

hyunjin cycles between sucking at your clit and teasing your hole with his tongue, a combo which, although has you seeing stars, is not enough to bring you to release.

“more, jinnie,” you plea, the pet name rumbling past your lips before you can catch yourself.

“you need more, baby?” hyunjin coos while gazing up at you, his eyes foggy and plump lips swollen and glossy. the hand of his that’s been laying dormant on your thigh moves to cup your pussy, groping you before he slides his index and middle fingers through your folds.

in one deft movement he slips his digits inside of you, his tongue poking and flicking your clit at the same time. your needy whines grow louder and echo around you, the goosebumps on your skin now from arousal and not from the cold.

hyunjin continues to finger you at a relaxed pace, his mouth traversing between stimulating your aching clit and nipping at the sensitive skin of your upper thigh. his eyes never leave yours however, and you feel as if you might slip and fall into his gaze, unable to escape.

“one more?” god you sound pathetic, but you don’t care at this point, “please?”

wordlessly, hyunjin slips his ring finger into your cunt. the stretch is subtle but has you yearning for your sweet release. the grip you have on his hair tightens, and you rock your hips against his face to help bring yourself closer and closer to your orgasm. the moans that leave his mouth in response to you tugging on the roots of his hair vibrate through your core, leaving you a stuttering, whiny mess above him.

“jinnie, I think i’m gonna-“ a desperate moan escapes you when hyunjin wraps his lips around your sensitive bud once more, sucking in tandem with the thrusts of his fingers.

over the volume of your own moans and the howl of the wind you can hear the squelching of your wet pussy as hyunjin finger bangs you until you cum all over his hand, his palm and chin sticky with your juices.

your heart drums in your chest as you slowly come back to earth, the warm body between your legs now gone and standing in front of you.

hyunjin looks as if he wants to eat you, swallow you whole, with hair a mess and cheeks splotchy and pink. through his costume you can see he’s hard, his cock begging to be released from the fabric prison it’s confined to.

he kisses you again and you can taste yourself on his tongue, fighting off any embarrassment you feel with the justification that getting your pussy devoured by him felt so fucking good.

your tongue slots against hyunjins inside of his mouth, and you feel him move to push his pants and briefs down to allow his cock to spring free. his sticky warmth mouth is pulled from yours and you watch as he pumps his dick several times to get himself fully hard.

his cock is long and veiny with a slight curve that has you practically drooling all over his feet. of course you’ve seen it before, but it’s been so long and you’ve thought about it so much.

his tip is a dark shade of pink as he moves to drag it through your cunt, allowing it to kiss your still sensitive clit which sends a jolt through your body. not wanting to waste any time, hyunjin wraps the same leg that was sling over his should a few moments ago around his waist. with one hand grubbing your thigh and the other gripping the base of his cock, he slowly sinks into you, allow you to feel every inch of his aching shaft.

“oh god, hyunjin,” you cry, feeling so full after months and months of feeling so empty. hyunjin breathes through his nostrils, attempting to control himself as he bottoms out in your tight hot pussy.

the bark of the tree that you’re pinned up against scratches and digs at the skin of your shoulders and upper back but you’re too drunk on hyunjin to care. all you care about is his cock that’s fucking into you, his tongue that’s tracing your jawline, his curious hand that reaches into your corset and pulls out your breasts.

his mouth makes its way from your neck down to your chest, where he deftly takes your left nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it before giving the same treatment to the other.

your legs cramp as you spread them apart as far as possible given your current position, doing your best to accommodate hyunjins dancer hips. his hips that move so fluidly against you, rolling upwards and grinding against your cunt with each thrust.

every time hyunjins tongue rolls across your tit you can feel it in your core contributing to the small fire that’s growing with every move he makes. one of your hands finds purchase in his hair again and the other finding stability by gripping his shoulder,

“jinnie, hngh-“ you stutter and whine embarrassingly, thankful for the fact that there’s no one around to hear how desperate you are. hyunjins pace picks up and he pumps his cock into you faster, harder, deeper. your limbs turn to jelly as he fucks you with no restraint.

“fuck y/n, I’m so close,” is all he can pant after pulling himself off of your tits, the hair at the base of his neck damp with sweat despite how cold it is outside. the walls of your pussy flutter around his cock as you’re on the brink of your orgasm, waiting to feel your release wash over you.

it only takes a few more thrusts to send you spiralling, creaming all over hyunjins cock as he finishes inside of you. his cum feels hot and heavy inside of you and it warms you to the core on this cold fall night.

the heat you feel in your cunt slowly begins to wane, and you whimper when hyunjin pulls his now soft cock from your hole that’s dripping with his cum; some of it sticks to your thighs.

with a chaste kiss to your lips hyunjin pulls away, fixing himself up before helping you adjust your corset and reaching down to grab your phone that had fallen to the forest floor.

the blue screen almost blinds you when you turn it on, and you’re met with several missed texts from jeongin.

[12:55] jeongin: okay y/n it’s been like 15 minutes you guys can come back now

[1:03] jeongin: seriously y/n it’s been a while, people are starting to worry

[1:04] jeongin: not me of course, but other peopl

[1:16] jeongin: ok y/n this isn’t funny anymore, i get that you’re pissed at me but seriously you guys need to come back

[1:19] jeongin: unless…. the lost john legends are true

[1:19] jeongin: oh god

“this shithead,” you mutter, opting to leave him on read for now

you glance at hyunjin, who’s standing there awkwardly, looking at the moon through the branches of the trees.

“do you wanna come back to my place? i don’t really feel like going back to the party,” he says in a way that seems like he’s bracing himself for you to say no, “we can watch easy a? you know, since i’ve never seen it.”

you stretch out your hand, encouraging him to take it.

“yea, I’d like that,” you say before the two of you make your way out of the forest before strolling down the street under the yellow glow of the moon

.･:*◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤Ξ ҉ ◢▅◣Ξ ҉ ◥▅◤☾*:･

a/n: apologies if the smut seems rushed I wrote it on a bus lol

#stray kids smut #hwang hyunjin smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfiction #skz smut #skz fanfiction #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin fanfiction #hwang hyunjin blurbs #hwang hyunjin imagines

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moonsgemini · 8 months

Text

you’re on your own kid

summary: rafe cameron has loved his best friend through every season, but through the seasons of their senior year things start to get complicated.

warning: she/her, smoking, alcohol, angst, fluff, kissing, cheating ???, drugs, mutual pining, (let me know if I missed any)

wc: 4.7k

an: HIII! I’m really excited for these taylor swift fics bc her songs give me so many ideas. This took a while for me to finish & idk if I like the ending or honestly if I like it at all. I promise seeking arrangements is next on my list to post <3 Hope you guys enjoy !!!

rafe's version masterlist - masterlist

I wait patiently

he’s gonna notice me

it’s okay we’re the best of friends

summer

Of course when he walks in the party instantly feels like an actual party. It hadn’t been much of a party to her especially not with him around. These things got boring fast if he wasn’t by her side making her laugh and talking about anything and everything. Not having to worry about sleazy guys coming up to her or putting something in her drink because he always by her side. Always looking out.

Everybody loves him anyways. The way he carried himself charmed everyone, made them always want to have his attention. Sunglasses perched on his nose, even though it’s eleven at night, that big smile on his face. He’s bobbing his head to the music and greeting everyone, she can tell he’s in a good mood tonight. It puts her in a good mood, her fingers itching to greet him already.

When he finally reaches where she’s standing with a few of her friends he smiles even wider at her. Greeting everyone but always just looking at her. Moving to push his glasses up onto his head. She couldn’t help the smile that tuged at her lips as he side hugs her friends knowing that’s not what she’s going to get.

And she’s right, once he gets to her it’s all outstretched arms and gentle rocking as he hugs her tightly. She’s been away at her grandparents house in florida for the last week of summer. They had missed each other. Face times and text messages just didn’t feel like enough.

“You’re finally back,” He said once they pulled away.

She rolled her eyes playfully a teasing smile on her lips, “Were you counting down the days Cameron?”

He shrugged, “Maybe, I know you were.” That grin never leaving his lips.

“Now come on,” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders beginning to lead her to the kitchen of whoever’s house this was, “I need a drink and you need to tell me about Florida.”

“I already told you everything every day Rafe. Just sat out by the pool or on the beach,” She motioned towards her body, “got some new clothes.”

He raised his eyebrows eyeing her body, “Some very tiny clothes,” His eyes took in her mini skirt and tank top all the exposed skin doing something to him, “Any guys out there?” He didn’t look at her as he asked. Instead he grabbed a beer out of the fridge, cracking it open with his back to her.

She scoffed, “Florida boys? No thanks.”

He turned around smirking, “So just North Carolina boys for you?”

There was a look in his eyes that she couldn’t quite read. Every now and then he’d give it to her and her mind would spiral on what he could be thinking. She always hoped it was the same thing she was, “Mhmm only North Carolina boys.”

I hear it in your voice

You're smoking with your boys

I touch my phone as if it's your face

I didn't choose this town

I dream of getting out

There's just one who could make me stay

fall

Everything had felt boring lately. After the summer and after the start of senior year she felt like the parties in outer banks were a waste of time. It was always the same people doing the same things. Kids too young to know what’s good for them and too young to care about the consequences of their actions. Not a care in the world knowing mommy or daddy would get you out of whatever stupid decision you made.

She’d spent most of her high school career pretending to like parties and drinking. Even tried coke once but it made her feel like her brain was rotting so never again. When in reality she’d rather be home smoking on her balcony reading a good book or hanging out with her close friends around a bonfire. It was exhausting always having to put up a front that she was this social party girl.

It took her a long time to come to the realization that she didn’t have to be what people thought of her. On figure eight it felt like everyone knew your business and everyone thought they knew you. They start seeing you at parties talking to Rafe Cameron and all of a sudden you’re some party girl with a drug problem. Once people found out Rafe quit doing coke and dealing she just became the party girl. Kook prince and kook princess always stuck to each others sides, of course she was going go gain a reputation.

Once she realized that people are going to talk regardless what she did so she stopped caring. Started staying home more. Rafe kind of hated it. Because she wasn’t there anymore. But he made it work with their busy senior schedules. Always saying he can make time for his best friend. That’s what she was. His best friend.

best friend.

Even saying it in her head made her cringe. If only he knew that she wanted something more so badly. At first she didn’t even see him that way, he truly was a great friend. He listened to all her rants about music, school, books. Rafe paid attention, he was soft with her. She didn’t understand why people always said bad things about him because he never showed those sides to her.

She sighed thinking about him, sitting on her balcony. The thought of him was brought on by everyone’s instagram stories of the party currently happening. She had opted for one of those smoke on the balcony with a good show or book nights.

As she scrolled through her phone more it began to vibrate. Rafe’s contact popping up on the top of the screen. A warm feeling spread through her stomach, maybe it was just because of the weed. She pressed the green button and brought the phone up to her ear. Admiring the little picture of him first, it was one she took right before she had left for florida. He was holding up their friends dog with a big smile on his face.

“Hello?”

“Heyyy,” A raspy voice said on the other line. Immediately she knew he had been smoking as well, probably with all the guys outside. He could even still be passing the joint around. He could also be smoking a cigarette outside after he’s gotten a buzz, it was his favorite thing to do after a few beers.

She put the laptop that was resting on her to the side, bringing her knees up to her chest. Leaning her head to the side on her knees she smiled softly, “Hi Rafe, you rang?”

He can hear her smile. Rafe knows her like the back of his hand.

“I did, what are you up to?” He knows exactly what she’s doing tonight even though she didn’t even tell him.

The wide grin on her lips dulling slightly, “Uh just looking at some schools in california, also watching new girl.”

“Still wanna leave this place huh?”

She let out a breathy laugh picking at the thread on her bench, “You know me too well.”

“Of course I do. I’m coming over,” She could hear him walking on gravel.

“My parents are asleep Rafe,” It was almost one in the morning and her parents had some golf charity event early in the morning.

He laughed amused, “Okay? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s supposed to mean you have to climb up to my room on the second floor or stay at that party,” Her tone was stern not wanting him to get her in trouble but also praying he’ll come and not wake them.

“Hey I gotta convince you to stay close to me after high school so you brought this on yourself,” He was walking to her house. She didn’t live too far from where this party was and he didn’t want to drive after smoking and drinking. At his words her hand tightened around her phone closing her eyes for a second imagining he was there saying that to her but in a different context.

Rafe didn’t have to do anything to convince her. He was the only one who kept her here. It was why she was still mulling over the idea of leaving the outer banks.

“You better at least be bringing a joint for us,” She sighed feeling giddy about him coming over. He always made her feel like a school girl with a big crush on the cutest boy in school.

“Already had one with your name on it babe,” He always threw that word around like it meant nothing. It meant everything to her.

They bid their goodbyes as Rafe was a few houses away. Less than ten minutes later she heard rustling under her. Rafe was climbing the tree by her room. He stepped onto the ledge before getting hoping down.

“Rafe,” She shushed him harshly hoping her dad didn’t hear. His heavy feet landing with a thud.

He looked at her with a smirk, “oops.” He shrugged not really caring if he was loud. Grabbing her legs that were laid out on the bench and sat down placing them on top. One hand on her shin and the other right above her knee.

He leaned his head back looking at her. That contagious grin on his face his eyes hooded and a bit red from his night out, “So ms. I wanna run away. What’s this thing you’re trying to escape,”

She sighed leaning back, “Dunno. I guess everything. I want to start somewhere new, it’s hard when people think they know everything about you.”

He let out a short laugh, “Yeah tell me about it. Maybe we should escape together, I think you’re the only person who doesn’t see a douche bag when they look at me.”

Her heart burst. If they were in a cartoon there’d be hearts swirling around her head and violins playing.

She shook her head smiling, “No one sees you as a douche bag,” She smirked, “anymore.”

“It doesn’t matter because the family company will be mine after college and people will see that I’m more than just a pretty face with a bad attitude,” He smirked.

“You are a pretty face with a bad attitude,” She agreed before holding her hand out, “Also you have something for me no?”

He patted her legs, “How could I ever think you forgot.”

They smoked and talked all night. She put on a movie on her laptop but it was more of background noise. At almost four in the morning she started to drift off to sleep and soon she was asleep on Rafe’s lap. She just felt so comfortable and warm with his hand rubbing circles on her shoulder.

He carried her to her bed and tucked her in because he knew she got cold easily. He sat next to her on the bed and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. A small smile on his face, these were the nights he cherished with her. When the world felt so quiet that it seemed like they were the only people existing. No interruptions from their friends or their parents.

Just him and his girl.

I search the party of better bodies

Just to learn that you never cared

winter

She pushed through the crowd of people while scanning the room for the 6’2 man she was meeting. It was the first party she had come to since summer and she was only there because he had begged her to come. It was a christmas sweater party so she had on a red sweater with kittens playing with presents. She had gotten it with Rafe a week ago at a vintage store, it was the whole reason he even brought up this party. Telling her it’d be the perfect place to wear it to.

Spotting her friend Emma she went up to her, “Hey have you seen Rafe? he hasn’t been answering me.”

“I swear I saw him going to the bathroom like a few minutes ago,” She pointed towards the hallway.

“Thanks,” She waved and walked towards the hall.

It was much quieter in this part of the house. She’d never been here before so she didn’t know where the bathroom was. There was a door on her right and left and one straight ahead. She decided to check them all. She opened the door on the left and it was just a closet with towels. The door on her right was the bathroom. She was confused because wasn’t he supposed to be there.

She turned towards the last door and saw some light coming from under. She had a gut feeling this wasn’t going to be good. Slowly she walked towards the door and opened it just like ripping a band aid off and

ouch.

Rafe on top of Taylor Thompson. His hand under her sweater and his lips on her. Taylor’s hands in his hair. At the sound of the door opening Rafe turned around and the girl under him sat up to look.

“Shit,” He muttered feeling his heart sink.

She stood there in complete shock for a second before speaking, “Sorry to interrupt.” She slammed the door closed. Holding back her tears until she was in her car alone. Her feet knowing where to take her as her mind was elsewhere. Why would he do that? The last few months had felt different to her. It felt like there was a possibility of something more.

It felt like he literally ripped her heart out and shoved out down Taylor Thompson’s throat. That blonde bi-

“Y/n! Wait!” Rafe called as he chased after her.

She ignored him not really wanting to see him until she got her emotions in order. Now it was clear he wanted nothing to do with her and never cared about her, at least not in the say way. She didn’t want him to see her cry over him, it felt pathetic. They were outside now she had finally reached her car. Clicking the buttons to unlock it furiously.

“Stop!” Rafe said as he jogged to push her car door closed before she opened it all the way.

“What!” She yelled turning around to him. A look of anger in her eyes.

He took a step back seeing how upset she actually was, “I-It’s not what it looks like.”

She rolled her eyes, “I don’t care Rafe.” Crossing her arms defensively.

He furrowed his brows, “Then why are you leaving?”

“Because I can.”

“Y/n-“

“Rafe! I don’t want to third wheel all night so go fuck Taylor Thompson like you want, I don’t give a shit.” She seethed, tears pricking at her eyes.

He shook his head, “I don’t want to fuck her.”

“Then why were you kissing her?”

“I thought you didn’t care,” Now he was getting mad for some reason.

“Fuck you Rafe.”

He laughed bitterly, “Tell me why it bothered you so much.”

She scoffed confused, “What?”

“Why did me kissing her bother you?”

“Because it didn’t bother you. You just didn’t care,”

“About what?” He took a step closer. He was trying to get her to say it. To say that she cared because she liked him.

He knows he fucked up but after her reaction he realized that he had convinced himself she didn’t care when she did. Then he may have taken a few shots and gone into the guest room to breathe and call her. But then Taylor Thompson came in right when the tequila was kicking in and things got blurry. She was on him and he didn’t stop it and she tugged him on the bed and he just couldn’t move or stop. He also couldn’t stop thinking about y/n as it was all happening, wishing it was her.

“About me,” She sighed looking down voice so small.

“I care about you.”

She looked up at him with a frown. She sighed frustrated being able to hold her tears anymore as a few slipped down her cheeks, “No you don’t. If you did you wouldn’t have kissed her.”

She turned around quickly opening her car door and getting in. Rafe got what he wanted, to hear her say it. But maybe he fucked up so bad he can’t fix it. He steps back as her car starts and watches her drive away.

She can barely see between her tears as she drives home. She felt dumb. She felt like he was using her to make his ego bigger. Why did he have to ruin it? The one person who kept her tied to where she is had betrayed her the most. She knew he didn’t owe her any loyalty but she couldn’t help the way she felt.

I picked the petals, he loves me not

Something different bloomed

Writing in my room

spring

Three and a half months.

It’d been three and a half months of Rafe and her not talking.

After she left the party she promised herself she would never speak to him again. He hurt her and she couldn’t believe she’d let it happen. Feeling dumb for feeling the way she does towards him. How could she have let herself fall for him so much?

He had called and texted her relentlessly at first. Even tried to go up to her in school but she’d quickly turn and walk away from him. After a month of trying to get her to talk to him he gave up. He fucked it up more than he thought. Rafe gave her the space she wanted but he’d always be there in the background if she needs him.

Y/n couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t take him always looking at her with those eyes. Couldn’t take all the time she was spending alone. She thought she liked being alone and spending time alone but she also liked all the time she spent with him. He made her feel so care free and light. The anxiety that was constantly bubbling in her stomach would diminish around him because she didn’t have to pretend to be someone she’s not.

But enough was enough.

Ever since middle school she had kept a diary. A few stacks of books tucked away in the back of her closet hid her deepest feelings and every detail about her life. The current one she had been filling was almost full and the last quarter of the notebook was all Rafe. Well to be honest he was in all of them, and not in a weird way. He was just always there, they were always together.

But now that they didn’t spend time together her pages consisted of rants of her boring school days and writing different scenarios she had wished happened that night instead of what did. She had ranted about how he made her feel and how she felt seeing him on some other girl. A girl that wasn’t her. It should have been her.

After everything they had done together how could he not see her in the way she sees him? Maybe he did live up to his cold hearted reputation. Even though he had never done anything wrong before. She actually can’t remember the last time she saw him hook up with anyone. Not since the beginning of junior year and back then he was fully in his coke addiction. She remembers that night like it was yesterday.

They had become friends around that time the year before. Summer before sophomore year they met at midsummers when she caught him and his friends in the storage closet drinking from a bottle of vodka. Y/n told them she wouldn’t say anything if they let her have some. Rafe immediately liked her, she knew what she wanted and she got it.

Now it was a year later and he can feel her eyes on him as he kissed some rich touron. He was high out of his mind and he just wanted to make y/n jealous. But it didn’t work, the look he had caught from her as he trailed behind the redhead he just met was one more of disappointment. He felt his heart clench at the feeling. After that night he decided to get clean and stop the hard drugs because he hated that look.

She couldn’t take it anymore, keeping all of her feelings on sheets of paper. She needed to find him and yell at or just do something. He has confused her for years now and she was sick of it. Especially now that Rafe and her were closer than ever. All her pent of feelings seeped through as she sighed exasperatedly, putting her pen that had been furiously writing down. Slamming it on the desk as she harshly pushed herself up from her desk.

With anger she had stormed out of the house and driven to his. Her sneakers stomping on the ground as she marched towards him. Every one of their memories together flashing through her head.

She had spotted him on the dock and was b lining towards him. Rafe’s head turned as he heard her stomping towards him. His stomach flipped when his eyes landed on y/n, he had really missed seeing her around. Especially at his house. He propped his sunglasses up on his head and hopped back onto the dock. He had been getting the boat ready for a solo boat day to clear his head.

“Y/n?” He asked in disbelief.

“You!” She pointed at him and stopping once her finger was poking his chest, “Why are you the way you are!” Her finger jabbing into his chest with every word.

He watched as her chest rose and fell quickly. He had never really seen her mad before, something he always admired. But now seeing her with furrowed brows and steam practically coming out of her ears, he kind of liked it. Rafe knows he shouldn’t be thinking about how cute she looks and instead be getting on his knees begging for forgiveness.

He had really missed seeing her up close. Missed how dark her lashes were and how glossy her plump lips always were. He counted all her freckles to make sure she didn’t get any new ones while they were away from each other. Her hair was in a style he hadn’t seen on her before.

“Well hi to you too,” He smirked. He couldn’t help himself, couldn’t help use the charm he knew she loved.

She placed her palms on his chest and shoved him, barely making him move. Y/n began ranting, “For the last fucking four years you have been my best friend and you’ve been so confusing! Everything was fine at first but-but then you were always there for me whenever. And you always fucking listened to me. And you’re so funny. I started to feel different and then I saw you at that fucking party,” She glared at him, the image of him on that girl making her nauseous, “And then you changed. You don’t hook up with anyone and you don’t leave my side at parties,” she laughed sarcastically, “You even fucking call me babe sometimes. So I though oh maybe he feels different too then again I saw you on some fucking girl. And you chase after me so Rafe what the fuck do you want from me? Has this all just been bullshit to you? Am I just some fucking girl you get to flirt with to get your weird little fix until you find someone you actually want to be with?”

He rolled his eyes almost offended, “You know you’re not just some girl.”

She scoffed with wide eyes, “That’s all you took away from that. What else am I supposed to think? You make me feel special for years and I just wait and wait. Then when I think things are finally happening you go and kiss some girl.”

“Y/n-“

“Who fucking knows what would have happened if I hadn’t walked in.”

“Can I-“

“I know you would have fucked her and then came home to me to talk about your problems like I’m some wife in the 50s.”

“You-“

“You kill me Rafe.”

“Stop!” He practically shouted as he placed his hands on her shoulders. She closed her mouth and stared at him intensely.

“I was afraid you didn’t feel the same so I kept my feelings down. I’ve liked you since the moment I met you. But I was fucked up then so I didn’t act like it until I saw how much I hurt you. I changed for you and-and then I just got scared. You are someone so beyond me, you are like the nicest smartest most beautiful person. Why the fuck would you want me?” He laughed like it was obvious, “And we’re such good friends it was terrifying to think about how if I fucked it up I wouldn’t have you at all. No one’s ever actually tried to get to know me the way you have. And then I did fuck it up again,” he sighed scratching the back of his neck, “I shouldn’t have let her kiss me that night. I should have found you and told you what I’ve been feeling since I met you. That I love you so much it actually hurts. And it’s hurt me knowing I made you upset.”

“Rafe,” She sighed as her eyes softened. This was not going at all how she expected things to go.

“I get I fucked it up, so if you still never want to see me again that’s fine. But please give me a chance,” He was actually contemplating getting on his knees to beg.

“You’re such a big dumby. You’ve always had a chance. You mean so much to me. Rafe the only reason I haven’t applied to out of state schools is because I want to be with you. Even if it was just as friends,” She sighed feeling like a weight had been lifter off of her shoulders. A part of her still wanted to punch him.

He took a step closer lifting his hand and softly brushing his fingers across her cheek as he cupped her face, “Will you please go out with me? Because I am so in love with you.”

She leaned up towards him. Their noses now brushing, “I love you,”

He smiled as he pulled her towards him, their lips meeting. The kiss felt like every taylor swift love song playing at once. All the yearning felt worth it in that moments. Their lips moved against each other languidly, like they’ve always been doing this. Rafe’s hands moved to her waist, gripping in all the right places.

Y/n’s hand ran through his hair tugging when his hands reached lower giving her butt a squeeze.Rafe melted at her soft sighs and quiet moans as he trailed kisses down to her neck. Kissing behind her ear. He kissed her cheek as he faced her again. Her hazy eyes and swollen lips made his blood flow to a certain lower part of his body.

“Rafe, this doesn’t mean I’m not still kinda mad at you. You have a lot of making up to do,” She smiled innocently at him.

“Baby I’ll give you whatever you want. In fact, let’s go shopping now for our date tonight,” He kissed her one more time before moving to hold her hand dragging her towards his car.

She laughed as she trailed behind him knowing that one shopping trip wasn’t going to make it better. He owed her big time.

“It also doesn’t mean we’re boyfriend and girlfriend because you haven’t asked me,” She smiled smugly at him as he opened the door to his truck for her.

“I guess I have my work cut out for me then,” He said leaning against the frame of door once she had sat down.

“you do.”

He leaned up and kissed her softly, “Anything for you baby.”

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