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#might start tagging who wrote what
t0ast-ghost · 2 months
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Wow already episode 18 (The Squire Of Gothos):
- It hasn’t even been a minute and they [Spock & McCoy] are already at it (not sure who won that conversation. Not sure there’s even supposed to be a winner anymore)
- WHAT
- WHAT
- WHERED THEY GO
- next time I see my friends I’m saying “Greetings and felicitations. Hip-hip-hoorah. Tallyho!”
- I feel like McCoy is fighting for his life trying not to laugh at Spock saying “tallyho”
- I like how they’re giving more character to Scotty, showing his ability and also his drive for action when the situation is dire
- that guy trusted that the air was actually breathable too fast for my tastes
- next time I draw I’ve got to put in an effort to draw the boots.. HOW COULD I FORGET THE BOOTS
- McCoys leech monster thingy in the background
- McCoy causally scanning this bitch
- get sent to hell, idiot (towards Kirk)
- boyfriend conference (20:45)
- wait OH MY THEY ACTUALLY ARE TALKING! McCoy and Uhura spoke to each other! It was brief but it happened
- Leave Spock alone, bitch
- I love Sulu so much. Calm but he definitely has the ability to attack, he just knows when to pick his moments
- I want trelane dead
- “I don’t know if I like your tone. It’s most challenging” yeah I think he’d (Spock) much rather punch you in the face to be fair
- “I object to power without constructive purpose” get his ass Spock, Jim’s smiling at this
- “Oh Mr. Spock, you do have one saving grace after all, you’re ill mannered.” Oh my gosh this is why him and McCoy are besties
- Bones has been sitting there eating through all of this. Good for him I guess
- “does your logic find this ‘fascinating’, Mr. Spock” “No, ‘fascinating’ is a word I use for the unexpected. In this case I think ‘interesting’ would suffice.” I will think of this quote often
- *Trelane changes the yeoman’s dress* *Spock, Kirk, and McCoy all get into attack mode*
- Even McCoy looks ready to punch a bitch
- The council will decide your fate
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- “but if you need to be persuaded” *threatens Spock*
- lesson number two: when trying to avoid objects in space, go to the left
- He’s like Q but less fruity and annoying… I don’t like it
- He put Kirk in a cage
- HE BROKE THE SWORD? OVER HIS KNEE
- Lol he’s a kid, what
- Kirk talks to gods and is just like “let me go home to my boyfriends”
- “forgive me, Mr Spock.” “I shall be delighted captain” Spock’s eyebrows proceed to shoot up
Editing this one while on a film set, and I didn’t put an ending so… yay I’m on a film set!
Master post
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starwarjotta · 1 year
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there’s a special place in hell for people who take the time and go through the effort of leaving negative comments on fanfics, like-- what is wrong with you, what is LEGITIMATELY wrong with you? I’m so angry and so devastated on behalf of everyone who has been harrassed like this and who is going through something like this right now. There’s no excuse for shitty behavior - if you intentionally leave a hurtful comment on something someone created and put out there for other people’s enjoyement, for free, after spending probably HOURS if not WEEKS or MONTHS or longer on it, you’re an incredibly shitty, disgusting, miserable waste of space of a person be better
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melverie · 24 days
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Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh today I've been constantly experiencing the urge to un-private today-in-the-devildom & start writing for it again
#i'm gonna ramble in the tags but#i've been talking with starr (if you're reading this--hi starr!! <3) about the blog today and sharing some of the entries#and it just made me miss it so much#+ the conversation actually made me realize some other reasons why i didn't enjoy the blog in general anymore#like i genuinely love the blog and i genuinely loved writing for it & that conversation reminded me of that#but also there were so many reasons that ultimately pushed me to more or less abandon the blog & then later private it too#so i'm kind of at a loss here#tbh i think i'm mostly just scared to pick the blog up again only for it to end exactly like last time i picked it back up#i've actually always wanted for the blog to be a source of inspiration y'know?#like the things mentioned in the entries are kinda just small ideas right#i was hoping that people would read these & feel inspired to write or draw something of their own based on my entries#that was actually what made me start the blog in the first place. the hope that i could inspire others that way#aaahhhhhh.... maybe it's on me since i could have more openly communicated that idea......#i did get to meet one wonderful person who wrote a few fics based on my entries tho!! (hi ali <3)#but yeah..there's that#also the way engagement just dropped significantly after a while#like i know i was gone for a good while & that a lot of people left the fandom and all that#but still getting maybe one reblog if i'm lucky really feels like a punch to the gut#ESPECIALLY considering that i was close to 900 followers on there#do you guys know that feeling when you proudly show someone you care about something you did only to get a disinterested answer?#yeah...#that's essentially how it feels like to me#and well as you might know the feeling of “why should i keep writing if apparently no one cares” eventually won... haha.....#but aaaahhhhh i'm still clinging onto the hope & what ifs here#that conversation with starr really just made me forget about everything that frustrated me about the blog & left me with this#longing feeling to start again lol#hey if you've made it this far into the tags let me just ask--would you care if i picked the blog back up?#would you also *show* that you care?#i'm actually quite curious (you could almost call me george lol)#anyway maybe we'll see each other on today-in-the-devildom again in the future.. who knows
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helianskies · 1 month
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ugly maths.
i hate maths, right. i don't usually like numbers, and if i do like numbers it's gotta be an 8 or a 48 and nothing else.
thing is, i've recently caught myself doing maths again. ugly maths. the kind of maths that, really, i've been trying to avoid as much as possible because, well, it's ugly!
you... wanna see?
okay, fine... but don't say i didn't warn you!
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ugly, see? look at all those numbers! not a 48 in sight!
huh? what's that? you don't see what i'm on about? oh... oh! hang on, lemme just—
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better? yes? no? no? okay, what if i—
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mmh, yes. ugly numbers. see it now? can you see why they're ugly?
here, i can make it worse.
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these numbers are ugly. the maths they make me do is ugly.
now i'll level with you: the worst ones by far are the yellow numbers. the maths they make me do it the ugliest.
why ugly?
because it makes me ugly.
those numbers turn me into not only a suddenly number-obsessed fool, but a fool who also cannot understand these numbers and what they mean and why i feel like they reflect on me and my ability.
87, 75.
the thoughts are as follows:
• the orange numbers are big, so why are you being ugly about the yellow ones? you should be happy with what you have. so many nice big numbers! not everyone receives that.
• is it that there are two different audiences for these two different fics? perhaps. they are quite different works, with different appeals, and different themes. maybe you are reading too much into it.
• why are you obsessing over numbers anyway? you don't like maths! you left maths behind when you were 16, put it down!
okay, okay, fine! i'll put the maths down. right here, in fact!:
that 87 was an 83 at the start of the year. the 6161 it is attached to was a 5453.
4, 708.
ugly maths.
the 75 is a nice number. in fact, compared to 87, it is beautiful, radiant, enchanting. at the start of the year, 75 was 48. wow. now that is one sexy number!
27.
mmmm.
6161, 1061.
5100.
87, 75.
12.
mmmm.
you know, my most favourite comment left recently on a fic of mine was 2 characters long: :(
it made me :)
well, actually, it made me >:) because it was left in response, presumably, to one of the key scenes in a new chapter which left the exact impression on someone that i hoped it would.
they must be the only one who reacted like that, though.
1.
have i mentioned that that 87 and 75 include author responses?
i won't try to do more maths, there. it might not end well for me. the maths is making me tired enough as it is, and i have an early start tomorrow.
oh! but, that being said, i have another set of ugly numbers to show you, so keep 87 and 75 in mind.
ready?
838, 245.
(want a hint? the green numbers!)
838, 87. 245, 75.
9.6, 3.3.
ugly maths. it's ugly again, see? i don't like it. i'm seeing numbers within numbers within numbers, and i can't seem to stop!
the numbers make me ask new questions:
• why is it not good enough?
• people seem to engage more with one fic over the other, so shouldn't you prioritise?
• is all this maths this really good for you?
no, it isn't.
i want to avoid ugly maths. ugly maths makes me want to tear my hair out. it makes me want to start from scratch. it makes me want to grab someone and scream. it makes me want to cry and press a button that has tempted me many times before when the numbers become too ugly to bear.
ugly maths turn me into an ugly person.
ugly maths make me obsessive, paranoid, anxious, regretful, vindictive, spiteful, alone.
i hate maths. i hate numbers, just like, it feels, the numbers hate me.
#helia rants#cw vent#i'm okay but i'm not#this has been playing on my mind over the last couple of weeks#it's aimed at the sky rather than anyone here#i know i'm not the best myself as commenting. i justify it to myself by affirming i don't read much. which i don't.#since the start of the year i have tried to comment on everything i have read#bearing in mind i may also dm someone rather than comment because i want to scream and ramble about their fic more personally#that being said. i know i'm not the only one who finds themselves doing ugly maths#and in turn starting to feel uglier too#i don't like looking at the numbers#i was doing well at the start of the year#but as i open my drafts and look to a new chapter and at the notes i wrote#i can't stop myself from opening the fic. from seeing where it's at. from seeing if it's changed. from checking my inbox to see if...#if only...#what it's meant is that i've come to a point where a fic i loved has become exactly that: a fic i loved. past tense#the other fic is still a fic i love. but i know deep down that that is tied to the numbers too#i hate that this is what i've become#because i have tiny fics. fics with 50 hits and maybe 1 comment. and i love them. i still love them#but when it comes to the big ones. the multi-chapters. the hefty fics. after a point all i see are numbers#and those numbers have come to determine both my happiness and fulfilment as a writer#and so i am ugly. i am sad. i am pathetic.#and i don't know how to stop.#helia's stuff#this was meant to save back into my drafts. i was editing tags. tumblr decided it should post. so... so be it.#also this is not an attention thing if anyone dares go 'oh but you're a good writer uwu' i might do something we'll all regret#this is also not a 'ffs comment on my fics will you 😒' hell no#it's just about me. and my issue. and my unhealthy relationship with these fucking numbers.#gotta get this shit out of my head somehow :)
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trashbaget · 2 years
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#wrote a fucking poem#because a bitch is fucking feeling things#cue venting in the tags because this is where i'm feeling comfortable to do it right now#a while back i caught the love bug for a friend and tbFCKNh it was the very second time i'd ever actually fallen In Love with someone and..#the first time it didn't end well. long story short: i asked him out and he turned me down but we stayed friends and it actually made us..#grow closer regardless. a little while later i'd realized my feelings were Different and it just came out one night when we were having a..#really deep conversation. and i'm glad i told him because it helped me get over him and we got better and things weren't weird at all. we..#stayed really good fucking friends. now i didn't get to see him for a summer and i definitely don't have feelings for him anymore and i'm..#sincerely happy for him and his now partner. i consider him (and always have) my best friend. (among others but he's definitely Up There..#like no. 2 probably) but way too soon after Talking was summer and we were both farthest from everybody and are both the kind of ppl who..#pretty much don't text anyone except like 2 ppl and we are not one of each's 2. today i got to see him and a bunch of our friends for the..#first time since fucking april and god have i missed them all. but seeing him again kinda fucked me up a second. threw me for a massive loop#i got Weird (neg) and i was NERVOUS as HELL at the start and for a few minutes i couldn't figure out what it even WAS because i hadn't felt.#that way in a long time. and i am not about to catch those feelings for him again because No. i chilled out after like 3 minutes bc i got..#reacclimated to being around ppl My Damn Age again and things weren't Weird (neg) anymore. we talked we joked we sincerely said our I Miss..#Yous and we hung out. with everyone and alone for a bit because ppl had gone out and come back and it was FINE it was NORMAL () and we..#were GOOD. we ARE good. and i don't love him in that way anymore. i love him as a friend. and that love is definitely more intense than with#other friends because we have a deeper bond and yes because i Loved him. but the fact is i don't and it's ANNOYING to react like i still do.#and getting nervous like i still do. and i kept worrying that something i'd do might make it seem like i do and i don't and just UGH having.#feelings is annoying. i've never been able to stay friends with someone after having feelings for them at all let alone INTENSE IN LOVE FEEL#INGS!! like wtf!!! and this is sincerely one of the best friendships i've ever had and i don't want to and Won't. lose him especially for..#this but god DAMN am i not having it right now. and my head's been spinning like a fucking tornado in the 5min ride home and i accidentally.#wrote it out in a poem because the words wouldn't go anywhere when i just tried to brain dump about it because Of Course They Did. because i#can't think about this man in anyway except poetically and i can't write a poem unless it's about love in some degree and just UGH love is#and i'm gonna leave it there because i'm running risk of repeatin myself.#if you read all this i positively adore you and also you need to touch some grass bc reading the vents of internet dwellers is for suckers#i am just kidding i really do sincerely appreciate you and love you very very much thank you for caring#please ignore the following organizational tags:#writing#poetry
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atticrissfinch · 4 months
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I’ve Got My Red Dress on Tonight | (joel miller x fem!reader) (18+)
Part 5 of Meet Me in the Back
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pairing: sleazy gas station clerk!joel miller x fem!reader summary: When your Valentine's Day date doesn't show, you decide there's one person who would be happy to see you. warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] age gap (no specifics), drug use (marijuana), daddy!kink, fingering (vaginal and....anal!!!), v brief foot fetish, squirting, praise!kink and degradation!kink (use of slut/whore), unprotected PIV, creampie, some ~touching in public, smoking, taking pictures mid-coitus, really nasty gross fluff i'm sorry about it. lemme know if i forgot something i gotta go fast i wanna post word count: ~7.8k jesus christ | ao3a/n: much thanks for the anon who suggested a V Day fic for these two <3 Thank you to my love Iris @papipascalispunk for making sure my commas and em-dashes are where they're supposed to be. ALSO. Chloe, resident sleazy!joel expert, wrote a little drabble inspired by Joel in this fic!! Please check it out after you've read this chapter! The Sighting by ChloeAngelic <3 Divider by @saradika-graphics ❤️ Taglist Update: I have decided to decommission my taglist in favor of an updates blog! Please follow @atticrissfinchupdates and opt in for notifications to get notified when I post a new fic! Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Kofi
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The dress feels ungodly tight, but you had figured it would be worth it. 
It wasn’t. 
In fact, the dress hasn’t seen anything but the inside of your apartment. 
Your hair was done just the way you love it, you pulled out all the stops with your makeup, and you had squeezed yourself into this glittery, red mini dress that makes your tits look stunning, which you bought just for this night. 
You’d been out with Brent twice before, and even though you’d thought it was a little early in your “relationship” for a Valentine’s Day dinner, when he asked to “make it a special night” for you, you agreed. The last thing you wanted was to be alone on this godforsaken holiday. 
Well, at least he’d had the courtesy to give you twenty minutes' notice that he was bailing on you instead of just leaving you waiting on your couch wondering if he would come at all. 
Now you’re just waiting on your couch, wondering what the fuck to do. 
You open your messages on your phone and swipe away from your broken plans. The next thread under it is Joel’s. 
Joel: i swear 2 god i saw one tho
You: you did not see a UFO, Joel 
Joel: yes i did!!! it was way the hell up there flashin its lights!!! saw it clear as day!!!
You: that was most definitely just a normal plane, old man. Turn off Ancient Aliens once in a while. 
Joel: ur gonna be real sorry wen im FAMOUSS for findin the first REAL aliens 👽 🛸 
You: I’m sure I will be
Joel: u can make it up 2 me by flashin me them headlights of urs again 😈
Joel: honk honk 😈
You: Bye 🙄 😒
Joel: 👅
A smile tugs at your lips as you read through the conversation from earlier this evening. You hadn’t told him about the date. Or dates, rather. If this one had gone well, you might have. If things wound up back at your place and actually moved a step toward something. 
You deflate against the back of your couch. Because there’s nothing now. Just you, your suffocating dress, and your stupid heels. The vicious claws of insecurity start to scrape at the back of your neck. 
Brent didn’t want you. You weren’t good enough. You’re not good enough for anyone.
Tears prick at your eyes and you dab them with the side of your finger to keep your mascara intact, following it up with some deep breaths and your head tipping back between your shoulders, forcing the tears back into your skull.  
That’s not true, you recite to yourself. You know there’s always someone who’s happy to see you. 
Another deep breath. 
Someone who would be dead on his feet seeing you dressed like this. 
On your next breath you’re already shimmying out of your panties and checking the mirror to make sure no one is getting a free show who doesn’t deserve it. 
You scurry as quickly as you can to your car, shivering so fiercely it feels like your goddamn pussy has goosebumps from being exposed like this. You weather through it, chanting in your head some quote you heard about how hoes never get cold. 
When you get to the gas station, you scamper from your car into the store, shuddering when the heat hits you once you open the door. You tug your dress down and glance around, not immediately seeing Joel anywhere. He’s not at his usual spot, parked behind the counter. You venture further into the shop, peering down the aisle. 
“Evening,” someone says just behind you, and you jump, whirling around. 
It’s not Joel. It’s some other schmuck with a scraggly, graying ginger beard and a crooked, lumpy nose. His smile is friendly enough, but it lacks that trademark sleaziness that typically oozes from the person you’re accustomed to seeing man the store. His name tag reads Walter. 
“Evening,” you squeak out, cringing and clearing your throat when your voice spills out much higher pitched than you expected. You tug on your dress again. 
“Help you with anything?” he asks, and you’re relieved to find his gaze holding steady on yours, not drifting elsewhere despite the swathes of skin on display in your chosen outfit.
Joel wouldn’t even be able to begin to know where to fucking look, your mind provides, and you find yourself trying to come to terms with the apparent fact that… Joel isn’t here. 
He isn’t here – on Valentine’s Day. 
“I’m, um…I’m actually looking for Joel?”
Walter’s eyebrows shoot up, then fall into a furrow. “He been hiring on the clock again? Goddamn it, I told him not to fucking do that anymore,” he mutters, shaking his head down at the floor before looking back up at you. “Miss, I’m real sorry, I know you’re doing honest work and all, but I can’t have that shit here.”
It takes a moment for you to fully register what he’s saying, but when you do, your eyes go wide. “Oh, sir, I’m not— you’ve got— no, no. I’m just a friend of Joel’s.”
“I'm sure you are, Miss, but I—”
“I’m not a prostitute,” you insist under your breath, glancing around to ensure no one is in the vicinity. “I swear to god, I just had a date tonight, or I was going on a date, and then I wasn’t, and— I swear, I’m just dressed for a date. A normal date.”
You’re not sure your frantic insistence has Walter very reassured, but he just nods, a skeptical look in his eye. “Well, in any case, he’s not here. He’s got the night off.”
“Got it. Okay, thank you,” you say, wincing a little at the palpable awkwardness. You rush past him to leave, your heels clicking loudly, and apparently, whorishly, across the floor. 
“Stay safe out there, honey,” Walter calls after you. 
Your car is blessedly still harboring warmth as you clamor back inside and start the engine. You catch your breath and mull over what to do next. 
He wasn’t there. On Valentine’s Day. You feel like that can only mean one thing. Something squiggles and squirms in your belly at that thought. 
You have one more shot, and you take it, speeding off toward the outskirts, hoping you can go fast enough to drown out the weird feeling in your stomach. 
His truck is there. And it’s alone in the gravel next to his trailer. 
You see light through his weeping blinds, a warm yellow glow accompanied by periodically flickering colors that you assume is his television. A good sign, you think. 
The wind whips around your bare legs as you climb his steps carefully in your stilettos, staring up to admire the waxing gibbous moon shining absurdly bright against the speckled black sky. You lean against the dilapidated railing of his tiny porch in front of his door. The sky is never this bright where you live. It fills you with a sort of warmth. Comfort. You hear the distorted sound of voices on his television and the faint aroma of weed seeping out the frame of his door. 
You don’t hear anyone else. 
So you knock. 
You hear a nasty cough from the other side of the door and the volume of the TV ticking down. The door swings open and you’re hit in the face two-fold—with a wall of smoke and a wall of bare-chested man. 
Joel blinks and squints reddened eyes as he blocks the entire doorway, billows of haze attempting to escape around him to the fresh air. Then recognition glows in his eyes and his gaze drifts. Up and down. And his jaw goddamn drops. 
Your arms clasp at your back as you rock on your teetering heels. 
“Hi.”
Joel crams his eyes shut again, shaking his head like a dog like he’s trying to clear a fog over his vision. But he opens them again, and you’re still standing there, and he expels a long, narrow breath through his lips. 
“Jesus fucking Christ. This is heaven, right? Or— jesus— fuckin’…hell, in that devil of a dress,” he shakes his head again, slower, more like disbelief, and a smile pushes at your mouth. “You just showin’ up on my doorstep? Dressed like that? I must be fuckin’ dead.”
You temper your broadening grin, reining in your utter delight at receiving exactly the reaction you were craving. “So, you’re saying me, weed, and…” you crane your head to peek at his television, “And SVU is your idea of heaven?”
“Damn near fuckin’ close,” he says, a reverence about his tone as he drinks you in gratuitously. He pulls himself out of his stupor and hurriedly gestures inside. “Jesus, sweetheart, come in. Gotta be freezin’ your gorgeous tits off out there.”
His hand falls to the small of your back as he ushers you inside, the sweet tang of his evening stress relief burning stronger in your nostrils in his living room. 
Joel shuts the door behind you both and lets out a sharp whistle. “Sweet Mary Mother’a God. That fuckin’ ass,” he mutters under his breath. 
You peer your head around your shoulder to take in the sight of him, just as he does you. One hand frozen against the door, soft belly poking out over the hem of his sweatpants, dark hair sweeping over the curve of it and up his chest. And, of course, that fucking tent at his crotch, growing larger by the second. 
“Be still my fuckin’ heart – the hell are you doin’ here in that, darlin’ girl?”
Your cheeks begin to heat. 
He’s never said it like that. Darlin’ girl. It’s usually some iteration of one or the other, but never together. 
Darlin’ girl. 
You fill in a blank for yourself — unintentionally, but so fucking naturally. 
My darlin’ girl. 
Where your stomach was squirming, it now flutters. You swallow it down. Pull your mind back. You just want to feel wanted. That’s why you’re here. 
Then he’s at your back, pressing all of him against you. The softness of his torso, the scratch of his facial hair, the hardness of his cock. Planting feathery kisses along your neck with teasing bites. 
A giggle bubbles up your chest and you free up more of your neck for him to devour. “I’m here to see the stupid aliens, you dumbass.”
His lips pause on your neck. “Oh yeah?” he mumbles against your skin. 
“Yeah,” you laugh lightly, “Where’s your flying saucer? Your flashing lights?”
Joel’s hands sweep up your sides and cup your breasts through your dress, squeezing them tight in his grip. “Right fuckin’ here, baby,” he growls into the underside of your jaw, “Let me turn ‘em on for ya.”
You throw your head back with another easy laugh and you feel the shape of his smile against your cheek as he massages your covered tits. 
“Mmmm,” he hums, rocking his hips against your ass, his massive length nestling and sliding between your cheeks over your dress. “Come smoke a bowl with me. ‘N then tell me why you’re dressed like living sin in my living room.” 
“How about you just fuck me,” you sigh, tangling your fingers into Joel’s hair and holding his lips to your neck. 
“‘Cause I wanna stare at you in this dress a little while longer ‘fore I rip it to fuckin’ shreds,” he says, his words increasingly muffled by the exposed skin of your spaghetti-strapped shoulder. 
A shiver trembles down your spine and you take a steadying breath. “Okay. Then you better detach before all that shit goes out the window.”
Joel takes a deep breath and rolls his forehead over your shoulder with a moan. “Smart. You’re so goddamn smart. So goddamn pretty. Got my Peter pipin’ up a storm down there.”  
You roll your eyes and will yourself forward, toppling onto his sagging couch with him trailing along behind and groaning as he sinks into it. 
Your hands go to the straps on your heels and you begin to unfasten when you hear a definitive nuh-uh. You glance up and Joel’s eyes are fixated on your blood-red satin heels. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare.”
“Really?”
“Really. Those naughty fuckers stay on,” he orders, and you have no choice but to let your hands fall away. 
“Okay, then.”
Joel’s tongue darts out to wet his lips briefly. “Shit. Alright. Where the fuck was I?”
Joel busies his hands – his focus – with topping off the contents in the bowl of his bong. He graciously offers it to you. 
“Light it for me?”
Joel smirks and flicks his lighter as he holds the glass contraption steady. 
Once you’ve taken a healthy puff, Joel sets the devices aside and crooks a finger under your chin, coaxing you forward. The burn curls in your throat as you hold the smoke. Joel’s nose traces a delicate line down your cheek before hovering his parted lips over your mouth and tracing his thumb over your painted red lip, smearing the color down your chin. 
“Let it out,” he mutters, his heavy, rosey stare shimmering into yours. 
The smoke cascades from between your lips into Joel’s waiting mouth where he inhales it with practiced ease, holding it for a moment before exhaling the remnants of it over your face with a lazy smile. 
“So fuckin’ sweet spillin’ outta that mouth, little Sugarplum,” he croons, continuing to futz with the color on your lips. 
You wrinkle your nose at him and laugh. “Dude, you’re so fucking high right now, my asshole would probably taste sweet.”
“It does,” Joel drawls, rolling your bottom lip down and watching it snap back up. “I got first-hand ‘xperience. Or…first…mouth…” Joel’s train of thought floats off from there as his eyes transfix on your lips. 
“Another hit, please.”
That refocuses his attention and he nods, a little sluggish. You take the reins this time, lighting the bowl yourself and savoring your pull. 
As you exhale again into the thick air of his trailer, Joel takes another, more modest puff to maintain his already achieved high. 
“Shit, I needed this,” you groan, feeling more and more boneless as you melt into his couch. “That’s good shit.”
“I don’t skimp on what’s important,” Joel mumbles, slumping over until his curly mop plops into your lap. 
You chuckle at him, stroking a hand through his hair and receiving a very pornographic moan in response when your nails scratch against his scalp. 
“Fuckin’ Christ. You’re my fuckin’ angel. Angel in devil’s clothes.”
Cleverness begins to fail you as the cozy tendrils of the weed start to lighten your brain into something a little more relaxed. So you just sink into the couch, playing with his soft locks and humming to his lethargic babble. 
When you’ve waded through the deepest of the haze, Joel sits back up, cradling his cheek in the crook of his arm as it balances on the back of his sofa. “So what are you doin’ here, Sugarplum? You get all dressed up for me? ‘Cause I somehow doubt that.”
You smirk at him in what you hope is playfully, but lands somewhere closer to dopey. “Why do you doubt that?”
He just fixes you with a telling look, and you concede. 
“Okay. No, I um– I had a date tonight.”
Joel nods, a little exaggeratedly in his current state. “Pretty little thing had a date. ‘Course she did.”
“Well, I did,” you say, pulling your legs up onto the couch and folding them to your side, maintaining what seems like a silly level of modesty given your present company. “Until he canceled on me about twenty minutes before he was supposed to pick me up.”
The divots between his brows seem to grow impossibly deep at that. “You gotta be goddamn jokin’ me. No fucker in his right mind would stand up a thing like you.”
You dip your head down, picking at the fraying threads of his couch cushion. “Not so sure about that.”
“I am. I’m damn sure.”
You shrug, “I just didn’t want the dress to go to waste.”
“Sure as hell didn’t.”
You hum in response. Picking. Tugging. Picking. Tugging. Until you feel fingers pinching your chin and guiding your attention up. And his eyes are still watery, still tinged with red, but are so unwavering as they burrow into your own, brimming with wetness for a wholly different reason. 
“Hey,” he utters, soft as anything, soft as his hair, soft as his belly, soft as his eyes. “It sure as hell didn’t,” he repeats, and waits for you to acknowledge it. 
And you do, with a small nod and sniffle. 
“Good girl.”
Your lip quivers at that, and the words tumble out. “Fuck me. Right now.”
Your back hits the seat cushions and his mouth is on yours, tasting sweet and a little bitter as his tongue strokes between your teeth. His noises pitch upward as you tug lightly at his hair, and his knee situates itself between your legs, providing you with delicious friction against your already dripping core. 
Joel’s breath wafts hot over your ear as he rasps, “You take your panties off for him or for me?”
“For you,” you reply breathily, moaning as he nips and licks at your ear, his increased breath reverberating in your head so loud it makes your pussy throb with the influx of intimacy. 
“All for me?” he asks, maneuvering a hand down to where you’re wet and begging for him, “Goin’ commando in this tight ‘n tiny little number, riskin’ givin’ anyone on the street a flash of your drippy little slit?”
Your moan bounces off the walls when he slips two fingers inside of you, pumping and curling them with a rehearsed accuracy that has pleasure fraying your edges as soon as he sets his pace. 
“And you brought it here to me? Brought me this sexy, heart-shaped box of yours all wrapped up in a pretty package?”
“Yes, daddy,” you breathe out, wrapping a heel-clad foot around his waist to spread yourself open for him, “Brought it for you. All for you. Please.”
“You gonna come for me, you naughty little angel? Come on daddy’s fingers.”
You whimper as he strokes at you with those fingers, his other hand descending on your clit to rub circles with his thumb. Your hips buck into his hand on your clit and down onto his fingers pistoning inside you, and you feel yourself coming apart all at once, your voice breaking as you call out for him. 
Joel showers you in praise as he fucks you through your release, resting his forehead on your temple. “Good fuckin’ girl. All that for daddy. Good girl. Squeeze daddy’s fingers, just like that, baby. Fuckin’ shit. So fuckin’ pretty.”
A whine kicks up in your throat as the overstimulation starts to throb in your clit, and you bump at his hand to stem the sensation. Joel’s fingers web through yours as he pins your hand above your head on the arm of the sofa, his two fingers slowing to a methodical crawl within your pussy. 
“Love how you feel around my fuckin’ fingers, sweetheart. Love seein’ how tight you clench around ‘em, knowin’ I’m about to stretch you wide open on my cock and feel you just as tight.”
“Fucking love your cock, daddy,” you keen as your hips undulate in time with his continued ministrations inside you. “Wanna be filled with it right now.”
“You want daddy’s cock now?” he teases, the tips of his two fingers dragging delightfully against the most enticing spot of your inner walls, drawing a tender gasp from your lips. 
“I really, really do,” you whimper, grinding onto his hand harder, “Need you to split me open, daddy.”
“Can I get a ‘please’ all pretty-like for me?”
You whine again and nod. “Please, daddy. Fill me with your cock.”
“You deserve it, don’t you, sexy girl?”
And the way he asks it, the way his eyes bore into yours when he does, you feel like he’s asking you to admit to more than you’d otherwise be willing to offer yourself. 
Tell yourself that you deserve good things. You deserve this pleasure. 
“I—” your breath hitches as his fingers crook inside you again, your nerve faltering at your lips. 
Joel’s lips part as he keeps drawing your pleasure tighter again, and you feel your core building that pressure again. “Tell me. Tell daddy you deserve his cock.”
“I— I deserve it,” you force out through the mounting pleasure in your brain, gasping when his fingers pick up momentum. “Oh, god, that…it feels…”
“Yeah, pretty girl? You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for daddy, I can feel it too. You deserve this, baby,” he coos, releasing your trapped hand to press firmly above your pulsing cunt. “Fuck, you’re so goddamn wet for me. Show me how wet you are for daddy, make your little hole gush for me.”
“Daddy, I…oh,” you squeak out as a wave of pleasure washes over you, pulsing out your limbs. And more than that, you feel a steady stream of liquid flow out of you, you hear the wet slap of Joel’s fingers, his palm, as it floods his hand. 
“Oh fuck, that’s it, baby. That’s it, darlin’ girl. Soak my fuckin’ hand. Such a naughty little bitch. Squirtin’ out your filthy little snatch for daddy. That’s fuckin’ right,” he babbles as his palm smacks lewdly up against your cunt with a fresh wave of wetness. 
Your hips jolt with the heightened sensation, and you can’t muster anything more than barely audible moans as Joel fucks you until you have nothing left for him to coax out. 
“Fuckin’ shit, sweetheart. Messy fuckin’ girl,” he grunts as he wipes his dripping hand on his sweats before tucking both behind your knees and spreading your legs to admire your drenched, finger-fucked cunt. “So juicy for daddy, huh? Daddy’s gonna slide his big straw into that sloppy little juice box of yours. And when I’m done you can suck on his big straw like a good little girl. How’s that sound, sweetheart?”
“Can you please just fuck me?” you beg, slipping the straps of your dress off your shoulders to push your dress and strapless bra below your tits. Joel stares hungrily as you play with them for him. 
“Fuck me. Yeah, your little box is ready to get stuffed, ain’t it?” he moans, tilting his head to the side to kiss up your calf and up to your ankle, still encased in your shoe. His teeth bite at the strap and buckle, skimming his lips wetly down the curve of your foot to the arch of it and sucking at the side of it he’s able to reach. 
“Joel,” you whine helplessly, desperately as your pussy screams for that bulge in his pants to bury itself inside your body instead. “What the fuck are you doing.”
“Worshippin’ my slutty little goddess. You blessed me with this little dress, this tasty little puss, so I’m gonna show my appreciation,” he mutters into your foot. 
And it shouldn’t feel good, but you’ve never had anyone put their lips on your feet before, and you’re so fucking horny for this man, you let yourself feel it. Your other heel drapes over his shoulder as his mouth drags over the slope of your foot and back up your ankle. 
“Such a pretty outfit, so I’ve decided not to tear it apart. Nasty little whore, you made it easy to access whatever I want anyway,” he chuckles a bit, gliding his teeth up until he can bite at the skin under your knee. 
You groan and press your head into the couch cushion, “Not the first person to accuse me of being a hooker tonight.”
Joel pauses for a second with a suspicious look. “Who was the first? Better not’ve been that shitty fucker who stood you up, or I’ll deck his lights out,” he says with a gentle aggression that has a rolling heat burgeoning in your stomach for a reason you can’t quite place.
“No, it was that old guy at your work tonight.”
Joel cocks his head. “Walter? Walter said you were a hooker?”
“I said I was looking for you and he just…assumed, I think. You hire hookers on the clock? ‘Cause he seems to think so.”
“Only a handful of times,” he mutters, his eyes going shifty, uneasy, almost…embarrassed. “I don’t wanna talk about that. Not with your slutty little hole winkin’ at me like that.”
“Fair enough,” you dismiss, tapping your heel against Joel’s back to spark his attention. “Stop making me fucking wait for what I came for.”
“Already came twice,” Joel says under his breath, but he uses the hand not gripping the back of your knee to work his cock out of its confines, springing out angry and red and as intimidating as ever. He leaves it bobbing free as he takes up his hands behind both of your knees to spread you wider. “Guide it where you want it, pretty girl. He’s all yours.”
You bite your lip at those words. He’s all yours. Your hand wraps around his girth before you let your mind race too far. You stroke him softly and revel in the way his chin droops down to his chest and a groan rumbles in his throat at the first real stimulation of his cock. 
“Let me feel that red velvet pussy, baby.”
You finally notch the fat head of him at your entrance and wiggle your hips down the couch, gasping as it parts your opening with a dull sting. When you capture Joel’s gaze, you beg softly, “Fuck it, daddy. She’s all yours.”
His face caves into an expression so aroused it almost looks painful. And then he’s groaning to fill the hush of the room and spearing into your cunt with every inch of him at once. 
You’ll never get used to the sounds that he pushes out of you when he fucks you full, when he enters you for the first time and smacks you in the face with how gigantic he is in comparison to the tight ring of your pussy. Like a wounded animal, like prey falling to a predator, like you’re irreversibly changed once he’s claimed you for his own. 
His rhythm sets off harsh and frantic and consuming, keeping your legs spread to feast his eyes upon your ravaged flesh. 
“Fuck, so goddamn perfect. Feel so perfect around my cock. Milkin’ daddy just right with this tight little hole, aren’t you, baby?”
“Yeah,” you whimper, tweaking your hardened nipples between your fingers and massaging at your tits as his hips smack against yours, the drenched state of your pussy enhancing the sound. 
Joel secures your legs over his shoulders and leans in over you, bracketing your head with his hands and snapping his hips into you as you cry out with the change in angle, pulling him deeper inside you. 
“Yeah, daddy’s so fuckin’ deep, huh? You love this fuckin’ cock? You love daddy fuckin’ this dirty snatch so fuckin’ deep?”
“Yes,” you keen, flinging your hands back to dig your nails into the arm of his couch and using it as leverage to fuck yourself down onto his length as he shoves it in, falling into a blissful harmony. 
“Fuck daddy’s cock, slutty girl. God, I fuckin’ love that. Suckin’ it right up your cunt like a pro. Pussy’s so tight I got it molded to my cock now, don’t I? Ain’t gonna fit right with no other cock, is it?”
“No, daddy,” you whine, plunging yourself down onto him again and again just to feel the tip of it dragging along your cervix in that way you have come to fucking crave. Joel’s cock fucks you open and curves up into that perfect spot inside of you in the most flawless rhythm, and it has you spiraling into another orgasm with no discernible warning. You pussy clenches and spills around his cock, soaking the both of you with what Joel had already primed you for with his fingers. 
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, baby,” Joel moans as he lets his cock slip out of you to watch you gush onto his thoroughly soiled couch. He fucks back into you in a single push and withdraws again, just to see more of it rush out. Joel fists his cock and slaps it down onto your spread folds in a series of heavy smacks, then rubs the head of it against your clit as the rivulets cascading from you subside. “Gushin’ like a fuckin’ jacuzzi. Where you been hidin’ this little party trick?”
“I don’t fucking know,” you pant out, trying to get a grip on your shaking thighs as Joel’s cock slides through your folds. “Fuck. I didn’t know…”
“Well if anyone was gonna teach you, it would be your big dick daddy, now wouldn’t it?” Joel brags, smacking the full length of him against your lips and lower belly. 
You twitch with residual aftershocks as the weight of him jostles you, and Joel chuckles. 
“You’re shaking like a leaf darlin’,” he says, tapping one of your quivering thighs. “Flip over for me. Daddy’s gonna dick you down real good.”
“Gonna?” you squeak out, staring at him incredulously, “What have you been doing so far?”
Joel presses his lips together to stifle a laugh and smacks at your thigh again. “Ego’s already big enough, darlin’. Don’t go pumpin’ it up for me now.”
“Can say that again,” you mutter with a small smile, but flip over until you’re flat on your stomach and resting your head in your arms. “Big dick, bigger ego.”
Joel grunts behind you as he settles on top of you, slipping his arm under and around your shoulder and nuzzling into your neck. He grinds his cock into the cleft of your ass before pulling back and aligning it at your entrance again with his hand. He hums in your ear and says with laughter in his voice, “Imagine if it was my ego I was shovin’ into this tiny cunt. You’d be fucked.”
Your reply is replaced with a gasping moan as he presses back into you at a different angle, this one rubbing intensely along the front wall of your pussy. The groan you release is embarrassing, abhorrent to your own ears, but Joel’s answering moan has all concern fluttering from your conscience. 
“How’re you still so fuckin’ tight after I’ve fucked you open so many times, huh, Sugarplum?” he asks, voice clearly forced out through his teeth, like he’s fighting for his life not to spill his load inside of you in the next few seconds. But he bottoms out and fucks you slow, staying balls deep and making a home for himself there in the deepest part of you. “Jesus, need to dust off the ol’ cock ring. Wanna fuck you for hours, baby. Fuck you raw and stupid on this dick. Fuck you ‘til you fall asleep on it, you’re so goddamn tired. Fuck you ‘til you forget what it feels like to not be stuffed full of me.”
“Daddy,” you whimper into your arms, already overwhelmed by the sheer heft of this man making room for himself inside your body, not even giving your pussy an ounce of space to relax that isn’t around him, isn’t on his terms. “Feels so fucking good inside. So fucking big.”
“I know it, sweetheart. So good at takin’ this cock. That first time I thought you was gonna pass out on it. And look at you now – shakin’ and beggin’ for it like a bitch. You daddy’s bitch, nasty girl?”
“Yes,” you whine as Joel starts to slam his hips harder, faster into you, “Yes, I’m your bitch, daddy!” And you’re suddenly screaming it for him as his fingers dig into the back of your shoulder, holding you steady as he uses you. 
“Fuck yeah,” he growls out, hoisting himself off you and hauling your hips into the air along with him. He fucks down deep into you as you moan into the couch, allowing him to take what he’s rightfully earned from you, simply by appreciating you, knowing how to make you scream, knowing how to make you come. 
And you’re fairly dizzy with the experience, but you aren’t far gone enough to not feel the slippery thumb massaging circles against the tight ring of muscle he’s only ever explored before with his tongue. 
A mewl escapes your lips as the tip of the digit teases your resolve. 
“You gonna be my little slut, baby? Let daddy put his thumb in your ass. It’s real good for ya. It’ll be real good,” he speaks in breathy pants as his cock maintains its devastating tempo. 
You let out a pitiful whimper, and you’re only partially surprised that the only answer in your head is yes, yes, yes. 
It’s apparently also on your lips, because without even registering that you’ve said it aloud, Joel is rumbling out a deep and resonant, “That’s my darlin’ girl.” You swear you feel your eyes roll back in your head as the possessive praise inextricably clings itself to the sensation of his thick, meaty thumb gliding into your asshole up to the knuckle. 
It shouldn’t feel this good. It shouldn’t feel this good having his cock filling you to the brim and then even more of him filling your ass. You’ve never liked anal, you’ve never even been interested in it, but this fucking tornado of a man has everything spinning in your head, disorienting your thoughts, screaming at you that what you thought was wrong is so, so right. 
“Lemme get a picture of this, sweetheart – of you all plugged up with me.”
“Okay,” you gasp, constricting your grip around his thumb as if needing to hammer into your head that there’s a finger in your ass. A thick finger. He can probably feel his own cock through the separating skin. 
Joel groans as you flex around his finger. “Spread yourself for the camera, baby.”
Your hands move to your cheeks and you can’t bring yourself to feel shame for this. Not for shit like this, with him. Not anymore. He makes you feel dirty and sexy and beautiful and worth his time. Why the hell wouldn’t you want to document this?
“Fuckin’ hell. Just like that.” You hear a series of shutters, and then his thumb slides out of you and he uses it to pull at the small established gape he’s made of your asshole. A few more shutters and Joel is muttering perfect, fuckin’ perfect, as he tosses his phone aside.
The words flow through you like hot honey tea, even if you weren’t meant to hear them. How does a man like him make you feel so treasured when you’re with him? You don’t belong to him, but he treats you like you do, in the most respectful of ways. He drags you down with him into the depths of his depravity, and yet once you’re there, you’re pleasured like… like a goddess. Like his goddess. 
Joel’s hips ramp up again, timing his thrusts with that of his thumb as he fucks you in both holes at once. “God, so fuckin’ beautiful like this. Wanna stretch this hole open until you can take this whole cock up your ass, baby. Spill my load in there, watch it drip down your cunt.”
And you had said unequivocally no. You had said, not tabling. Off the table. But, god, deep down you know he’d make it feel so good. Somehow, he’d make it worth it. And it’s fucking killing you. You can’t admit that to him, you can’t let him know that you’re convinced he could make anything feel good. That’s too close to something. And this isn’t something. This is I make you feel good, you make me feel good, and we go our separate ways. 
So you just moan for him in response. A verbal confirmation is too much. Giving him too much power over you. And Joel seems too lost in the clutch of your body to parse the difference. 
“Velvet fuckin’ pussy, darlin’,” he chants to the rhythm of his hips colliding with yours, and you’ve come to recognize the telltale signs of his impending orgasm. His sounds start to fluctuate in pitch, his hips more stuttered in their movement, his fingernails indent your skin as he frantically clings to the final moments of euphoric crescendo before the cymbal crash. 
And crash it does, announced with an unabashed groan of sheer pleasure as he spills himself inside of you again, so many times now you’ve lost count, lost sense of the level of responsibility in your actions. Too feral, too dependent on the soothing, post-fuck tranquility of his come dripping from the deepest part of you. A balm to your stretched, aching wound that he caused, because you asked him to — keep asking him to — again and again. A reminder of where he’s been, what he’s done to you, what he’s done with you in all these private moments. 
He slips himself free, and you feel the trickle of him, evidence of how much he’s pumped into you. Leaving you open and gaping, yet so fucking full of him, even after he’s gone. Pulled out and dripped free of your heat and hold. 
Lazy kisses paint up your back where your dress has ridden up your spine, and then back down to bite more reminders of him into the flesh of your ass, until he guides your hips flush to the couch and blankets you with his weight. 
Minutes of quiet breath-catching tick by, feeling the scratch of his hair where your bare skin meets along your bodies, until Joel breaks the silence to say, “Stupid bastard was out of his fuckin’ mind.”
And you’re not positive why, but you feel tears stinging your eyes again. You steel yourself, refuse to let them fall, force them to dry out before they betray you. 
You clear your throat of any traitorous frogs before you speak again. “Sorry about your couch.”
“Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout,” he reassures, grunting quietly as he shifts himself off you and slips behind instead, pulling you into him, “Plus, Doreen’s got one of them special little steam cleaners she lets me borrow from time to time. Get it cleaned up real nice.”
“Doreen?”
“Little old lady ‘cross the way,” he says into your hair. 
You do your best to turn slightly and look at him. “You’re friends with the little old lady across the way?”
“You doubt my charm?”
Your eyes search his face — the wide, dopey smile, the drooping eyelids, the dwindling glassy rose in his eyes from the weed — and you smile back. 
“Maybe. Feel like you would be a kind old lady’s worst nightmare.”
“Nah, I’m a good boy. Just ask my mama,” he quips. 
“Sure,” you joke, positioning yourself back into a proper little spoon. 
You feel a kiss on the back of your head. “Gonna step out for some fresh air and a smoke. Keep me company?”
You grumble as Joel props himself upright on the couch and pulls his sweats back up. “‘S’cold outside,” you groan, watching him as he stands and slips on a shirt from where it was strewn onto the back of a chair. 
Joel studies you where you lie, your dress a flimsy accordion with the top and bottom convening at your torso, leaving Joel’s favorite bits on display. And as much as you assume it probably pains him to have your body hidden from his view, he says, “You can wear my coat.”
Your eyes light up. “Yeah?”
Joel masks a grin and grabs the coat off the peg by the door, throwing it to you. You know this coat. You’ve worn it before. And although you don’t want to give yourself away by inhaling its scent too gratuitously, you don’t capture any hints of your perfume on the fabric in your covert sniffs. It’s been too long. 
You push yourself onto only moderately shaky legs and work yourself back into your dress properly before slipping your arms through the coat and zipping it around you. You feel a bit like a giant marshmallow in the padded utility jacket, but when you look back up at Joel, there’s a shimmer of something in his eyes, on his face. And something like a twitch in his mouth, like he wants to say something, but thinks better of it. 
You’re not sure you’ve ever seen Joel hold his tongue over anything, so it’s likely just a trick of the light, the lingering effects of your high. 
Joel’s eyes only tear from you to swipe up his smokes and lighter from the coffee table and step into a pair of slides before he’s leading you out the door. 
The cold is bitter, but Joel’s coat is warm enough. Your legs prick with the chill breeze as Joel sticks two cigarettes into his mouth and lights them both, handing one off to you. You rest on the railing with him side by side, taking reasonably synchronous puffs as you stare up at the moon, the stars. 
A couple screams at each other a few lots down, their voices only muted by the distance and the persistent, humming buzz of Joel’s porch light. 
“Right on cue,” Joel mumbles around his cig as he scratches his beard. “Kev can’t keep it in his fuckin’ pants for the life of ‘im.”
“Mmm. Sounds like someone I know.”
Joel’s sidelong glance is sprinkled with a sort of childlike mischievousness as the corners of his mouth lilt. “Maybe so. But I wouldn’t step out on my girl, though.”
His lingering gaze has the back of your neck growing hot. You hum in agreement as you take another drag, tapping the ash with fingers half-obscured by the length of Joel’s sleeves and watching as it falls to the gravel below. 
Joel flicks the ash of his own smoke against the railing to plop down next to yours, and exhales a cloud as he stares off in the direction of the feuding couple’s trailer. “When I got a girl, that’s all I need. And it’s been a rare blue moon that my girl ever went and got it somewhere else.”
He takes in a steady, clean breath and shrugs with his head before continuing. “And whenever they did, they came crawlin’ right back. Always come to find that their daddy lays the best pipe. Ain’t never seen one of my girls spread ‘em open for no one else after they stepped out the first time. Not ‘til after it was over.” 
Your focus catches on his lips as they wrap around his cigarette again, the barest concave of his cheeks as he sucks, the pout of him as he expels into the night air. And you ache to say something. You feel heavy with it. 
The opening chords of a melodic ballad fall upon your ears, and you both swivel your heads in the opposite direction of the screaming pair. Instead, you’re graced with a couple coming together in an embrace, slowly rocking to the music floating from their porch. 
A soft laugh escapes you as you watch them wistfully. “Now that is how a Valentine’s Day is supposed to end.”
Joel glances at you. He takes one last drag from his smoke and tamps it out on the wood before dropping it into a chipped mug on the railing, housing a dozen cigarette butts. He holds a hand out to you and tilts his head toward the pavement. 
You stare at his outstretched hand, and your mind trips over itself to unravel the intent behind it. “What are—”
“Dance with me.”
Your eyes snap up to his, and you’re met with an easy smile on a disheveled, glassy-eyed, gorgeous man. Braving the cold in sweats, a wrinkly and hole-riddled Henley, and slides on tube-socked feet. Asking you to dance while clad in his coat and your stilettos. 
You chew on your lip as you watch his fingers wiggle impatiently as your cigarette butt kisses Joel’s in the mug when you discard it. And then as your hand slides into his. 
“Atta girl,” he praises you softly, tugging you down the steps with him and onto the pavement. 
Joel isn’t fancy with it. He just pulls you close into him, wrapping his arms around your waist as you drape your head on his shoulder.  He sways the two of you from side to side following the beat of the music. Your heels scrape the asphalt, your nails scratch the back of his neck, and his hands dip below the hem of his coat to tease at the round of your ass over your dress. 
“Sure I ain’t said it enough, but you’re a goddamn knockout tonight,” he rumbles quietly into your ear, his fingers groping at the bottom curve of your cheeks to emphasize his point. 
And after your date flaked on you, after you got dolled up for him, got your hopes up for a nice night, and had your plans disintegrate between your fingers, just for Joel to swoop in and illuminate your sky with stars, those words spear right through your heart. 
And you know you should say something traditionally sweet back. Something like thank you or you too. But as those softer words rattle around your brain, you feel wetness trickling down your inner thigh, and you opt to whisper something more personalized. Something you know Joel would find sweetest of all to fall from your lips. “I can feel you dripping out of me.”
A groan vibrates up his chest and one hand slips between your bodies until you feel the cool press of his fingers at your cunt. 
“Fuck me, darlin’,” he breathes, bringing up two thick fingers for you to see, glistening opalescent in the moonlight. 
He doesn’t ask, you just drop your jaw and stick your tongue out for him, sucking your shared juices off his skin as your eyes lock. He pulls them free and replaces them with his mouth, tasting the two of you off your tongue. Joel’s hand nestles under your dress once more to cup your pussy. Not to slide inside, not to get you off. Just to hold you as close as he knows how. To catch where the two of you fall. 
He nuzzles your nose with his and tucks your face into his neck with his other hand as he sways with you. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Sugarplum.” 
You sigh into his neck and lay your hand over his beneath your dress. 
“Happy Valentine’s Day, daddy.”
Next
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simpjaes · 4 months
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take the back-seat part two. (p.js & s.jy)
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Jake isn’t sure what’s worse, the thirteen hour drive to the beach where he watched you get railed by his best friend in the backseat, or the five days he’s gonna be spending there knowing he is expected to watch—or join, whichever.
– read part one here! 
minors do not interact, otherwise― pls reblog my works
WC ― 14.3k
PARING ―  jay x afab reader x jake 
TAGS ― vacation setting, threesome, voyeurism, exhibitionism, jealousy (both jay & jake), implications of a budding poly relationship, there’s a lot of dialogue to depict character development regarding the whole inviting jake thing. 
!!WARNINGS!! ― jay is a little touchy with jake, if you don’t like it, sounds like a you problem. 
A/N― reminder that this fic is a revamp from one i wrote over on my other blog! here is part two :D enjoy! 
smut tags under cut:: 
smut tags― borderline infidelity (jay is into but doesn’t wanna admit it), finger fucking, neglected cock syndrome, hair pulling, jay teaches jake how to fuck his girl, jay basically moves jake like a puppet, cum stuffing, humiliation/degradation, double vaginal penetration, unprotected sex
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
What Jake feels for the remainder of that drive was unexplainable. Looking at you through the mirror with Jay next to you…it felt,for lack of a better word, different. Sure, he’s walked in on the two of you before, and watched for a little too long but, this is different. He personally saw Jay stuff you full and not only that but he saw your face as it happened. You spoke for him, to him , and he didn’t even get his ass kicked by Jay after the fact.
The feelings in his head swirl around like a forming tornado threatening to touch down and cause him to lose all sanity. Five days with you two locked in this beach house with nothing but freedom at your feet. Worse, even when the three of you go home, he’s just locked in a different space with the two of you until he gets back on his feet. Jake isn’t even sure if he wants to leave now. On one hand, he wants to start running just to get away from the overwhelming embarrassment, on the other, he thinks he might like it. He thinks the two of you might like him being around to see too. 
“Is this going to be a normal thing?” Jake remembers asking Jay inside of the bathroom at the gas station. What was Jay’s response? “ Maybe, if you keep wanting to catch us.” 
What to do, what to do, with a lust so hungry Jake feels like it’s eating him from the inside out? Catch you on purpose? Stalk your private moments with his best friend just to get another taste of that bliss just out of reach? Not even a taste actually. 
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Jay drags his feet as he carries your bags along with his own. He’s acting normal despite the constant groaning about how his legs hurt after certain endeavors on top of the thirteen-hour car ride. You stay close to him, attempting to snatch a few bags so that he would at least stop crying about the very deed he wanted to do during the ride. 
Jake stays behind, quietly carrying in his things and avoiding the cracks on the sidewalk so as to not scratch his new suitcase set (and so he doesn’t break his mother’s back). One headphone in, he barely hears the two of you as he opts to try and escape the madness outside of the audio in his ear. That is, until he gets inside the beach house.
“Okay so, hear me out–” Jay smiles at Jake, stepping in front of him as he tries to pass. “Listen, Jake. Just,” Jay puts his hands out in front of him, stepping both left and right to continuously block Jake’s path. 
“There’s only one bedroom.” You announce, breaking Jay’s plan of trying to convince Jake that it would be a sick idea for him to watch more . 
Jay did know. Of course he fucking knew, he’s the one who booked the place. You didn’t know, but he also knew you’d play along anyway. Given, Jay hadn’t completely planned the whole car thing so it’s kind of awkward now. Despite always wanting to be caught, watched, and envied, Jay really didn’t think past the idea of causing Jake inner turmoil with this rental.
“S’cool. I’ll take the couch.” Jake waves off, dropping his bags and looking around the space.
Your eyes drop before Jay’s do. 
“Wait, no,” Jay groans out, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, you can still sleep in there with us. There’s two beds.”
Two beds. So it was intentional to put Jake in a position he couldn’t resist, huh?
“The idea was to invite you to watch. Surely you’ve caught on to everything by now, right?” Jay looks at Jake with an apologetic stare. “It’s kind of awkward now inviting you, but I thought you’d be happy to take us up on the offer, especially after our little talk…”
Jake looks to the floor with tinted red flushing over his cheeks. 
“You really couldn’t just wait to get here first before sitting him down and discussing?” You ask, scolding your boyfriend despite the fact that you played at least fifty percent into his on-the-fly plan on the ride over here.
“You looked hot and he was tired.” Jay states the obvious with a careless shrug. 
Jake is just standing there trying his best not to let his mouth fall open. Jay really wants to propose that he should just watch? Nothing else? Just fucking watch?
 Ka-ching. It’s little to grasp at, but Jake’s gonna take it. After seeing everything and hearing you, why wouldn’t he? His best friend is practically giving him the ability to watch you be pleasured. 
“Okay,” Jake stops both of you from bickering. “Let’s discuss it now then.” He adds, averting his eyes from both you and your boyfriend to avoid showing how much interest he actually has in this little vacation plan.
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
After a long and drawn out discussion, rules were set into place. Rule number one, Jake cannot touch you under any circumstance. You were quick to side eye your boyfriend’s best friend during that moment, noting the disappointed look that washed across his face. Rule number two, Jake can request things he wants to see, but if either you or Jay are uncomfortable with it, the request can be ignored. Rule number three, you can talk to Jake while it happens and he can talk back, but Jay will more than likely use every opportunity he finds to humiliate him for it. 
Jake doesn’t falter at any of the rules except for the first one, mostly because it’s going to be hard to not want to touch you. He assumes that’s part of the fun for Jay though. He feels embarrassed accepting the terms, awkward as he places his bags in the shared room the three of you will be sleeping in, and restless at the way reality hits him. You, his best friend’s girlfriend, want him to see. 
You want him to get off to you. 
He feels a bit shameful about it. After all, Jay has been his best friend for fucking years at this point and he’s a little unnerved that none of this is making him feel as weird as it should be. Should Jake really be excited about watching his best friend fuck his girlfriend? Probably not, but he is, and he just assumes this is another ‘ weird’ thing he likes added to his list. 
“Hey–” Jay nods his head towards Jake as you walk out of the room for a shower. You did your best to clean up at the gas station too but, to be fair, the bathroom was just as dirty and cum-covered as you were, probably.  
“Yeah?” Jake looks over at him, unzipping his suitcase and pulling out a change of clothes. Mostly so he can hop in the shower after you’re done. 
“You sure you’re cool with this? I know I kind of did a lot of this intentionally, but really, if you’re uncomfortable I’d rather you just tell us–”
“No!” Jake argues at an embarrassingly desperate pitch. “I mean, no.” He clears his throat as he corrects himself, and then does his best to avoid eye contact by focusing solely on digging for his toiletries. 
“That’s what I thought,” Jay smiles knowingly at him, internally writing a list of things he can do to torture Jake, a list specifically made to cause envy and probably resentment. 
“So, like,” Jake swallows, still unsure of his footing in this situation. “When will it happen again?” 
Jay actually laughs at him this time. 
“Oh, you thought–” He shakes his head and goes to take off his shirt. “No, no. Jake. You’re still gonna have to catch us to watch.” He explains, throwing his shirt on the presumed “cuck chair” in the room.
“Wait, what?” Jake is confused. They want him to watch, but they’re still going to make him go through the embarrassment of catching them? 
“That’s the fun part of it for me,” Jay tries to clear it up. “I like the surprise of someone seeing. I like the reactions. It’s exciting,” He continues, now stopping to really look at Jake. “Looks like you enjoy watching, so–”
Jake nods slightly, tilting his head with a furrowed brow.  “For the record, I’ve never been into this kind of thing. You kind of made it hard not to see things.” 
“I know.” Jay laughs. “Gotta get creative on weeknights when there's no parties going on.”
“You do it at parties? Like just right there in public ?”
Jay nods with a smug smile. 
“A lot of people don’t even notice, but the ones that do–” Jay’s eyes nearly light up. “They always watch. They don’t even pretend to look away.” 
Jake feels a little bit flushed at the idea of attending a party with the two of you. He couldn’t imagine being put in a situation where he, along with several others, get to watch you orgasm. 
“She likes that?” Jake asks, a little shocked.
“I mean, she gets really into it but I can admit that she seems to like when you watch a lot more.” Jay glares for a second. “Which again, kind of pisses me off.”
Jake waves him off, trying to act nonchalant about it. 
“I hope you know that this is more of a trial run, Jake. If she gets bored of you, she probably won’t be as into it later.”
Okay, ouch. Fair, though. Jake would never stick around if it’s not something you want. He can already sense that Jay didn’t want it this way either. Maybe Jake watching was exciting, but he does sense a bit of tenseness in the air each time Jay brings up how you lusted over him so blatantly in the car. 
“And if she doesn’t get bored?” Jake counters and Jay kind of takes internal offense to it. Passive aggressively chuckling towards him. 
“Oh, she will.” Jay says as a way to assure himself rather than answering Jake. “I’m the only person she doesn’t get bored of.” 
  Jake, for some reason, takes that as a challenge. He might be the one getting the short end of the stick here, but the only reason he’s getting a stick at all is because of you. Regardless of if Jay wanted him to watch, surely he never wanted you to like it as much as you do. 
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Well, competition is one way to put it. Jay resents himself forever even trying to get Jake all flustered. He did it because he wanted to be watched, but he also wanted Jake to be fucking jealous. How the hell is he supposed to be jealous when you, his own girlfriend, got entirely too wet for another man while he was buried in you?
Playing it as cool as he can, Jay is still excited, just a little less now that he knows he’s going to have to fight for your attention. Those set rules? Between you and Jay, neither of you had to actually follow those rules. Jake can do what he wants at your discretion, but it’s not like Jay is gonna just tell him that. He was shocked that you pressed to let Jake join just one time. His whole fantasy is about being watched during a private act, not inviting someone to actively play a part in it. Nevertheless, he granted you a small nod when you suggested it, sternly letting out a small “ just this once. ”
Sure, he’s the one who fucked you in the car and he’s the one who told you to talk to Jake but, it’s not like he expected the outcome that came from it. It was a moment of lust where he thought it would be hot to see you unable to speak because you’re being fucked– but no. You were speaking to Jake and riding him harder because of whatever the fuck was going on up in that front seat. 
Naturally, your boyfriend has that mischievous little glint in his eye when you return from the shower and Jake opts to steal the bathroom before he can. 
“You are aware that you’re getting more out of this than I am, right?” Jay laughs, pulling you from your stance and flopping you down onto the bed. “I just wanted him to be jealous, you’re ruining my fantasy.”
You smile at him with the same mischievous little glint. 
“And you’re an amazing boyfriend for letting me try something new,” You praise, kissing the tip of his nose when he crawls on top of you. “I’m sorry that it’s hot knowing two guys want me this badly.”
Jay sighs, dropping his face to your neck to smell the soap against your skin. Of course, you’d be into that. His thing is people being jealous of what he gets and your thing just has to be the idea of being wanted. It fits a little too well. 
“Bet you weren’t even planning to put anything on for bed tonight, were you?” He laughs with a groan, cursing how willing he is to let you have whatever you want despite not wanting to give Jake what he wants. 
“Bingo,” You smile evilly, pulling away from Jay so you can see his face. “Plus, it’s hot seeing you get all possessive. That’s new, even for you.”
Jay once again sighs with a groan. 
“Promise you won’t like, up and leave me for my best friend?”
Realizing there’s a bit of truth behind his concerns, you stiffen a bit.
“You know I wouldn’t do that. Just because he’s hot doesn’t mean he can pleasure me better, or treat me better.” 
Finally, a genuine smile breaks across his face and it makes you feel warm. 
“Do you wanna play a little tonight?” He offers, wiggling on top of you with a newfound desire over the fact that you always know how to silence even the slightest of insecurity he feels. 
 “After everything from the ride over? I’m tired, Jay, really.” You admit with a pout. 
“I’m not tired yet. Just let me do the work, you can just rest–” He tries to convince you and it works, much like it always does. 
Jay is doing this specifically for you. It’s not like he always needs to be seen when the two of you are intimate. It’s nice sometimes seeing you act real for him. Seeing your underwhelming and soft reactions to whatever he’s doing because you both know that you’re not putting on a show. He can admit to loving the way you still moan for him despite knowing nobody but him can hear it. 
Even knowing Jake will be in the bed next to yours at any moment, you think Jay can get away with whatever he wants to do privately . And for the most part, he does. At least, at first he does. 
Lying on your back with a leg thrown over Jay’s lower half as his fingers trace lazy circles against your bare skin, you knew his fingers were going lower and lower, but it’s relaxing even as your eyes fight to stay open. 
When Jake comes back into the room, hair still dripping a bit at his failure to dry it properly, you don’t move or react outside of a sleepy glance at him. 
“Hey, you ready to hit the sack?” Jay calls out, fingers moving lower on your stomach and landing just above where your panties would sit if you were wearing any under this robe. 
“Yeah. Water ran cold though, might wanna wait a little bit before you shower, Sorry.” Jake admits with shame, not making eye contact with either of you as he flops himself onto his bed. He’s wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants, which is something you’ve seen him wear time and time again at home, but man, why does it look so hot now?
Jay laughs, kind of like an ‘of course there's no hot water for me’ laugh, but he doesn’t mind, if anything, he’s having fun lulling you to sleep with a gentle finger fuck session behind Jake’s back.
The room goes silent save for the television that Jay flips to some random reality show. You’re still focused on his fingers, more gentle than he normally would be. Still, it’s probably just because, for once, he doesn’t want Jake to know what’s happening. 
When your boyfriend’s fingers finally make their way to your clit, it’s not shocking that you’re already wet. Your breathing is still even, and it feels good to be touched right now. You turn your head only slightly to look at Jake. He’s so endearing to look at. Never once have you seen him preparing himself for sleep. For some reason, it feels intimate seeing his bedtime rituals. 
With one hand scratching against his hair, he’s on his side and practically hugging his pillow against his head as he fixes his eyes on the television. You can see how heavy his eyes are. He was already tired when he first started his shift of driving, and the back seat didn’t offer much in terms of a nap. You imagine if he knew what Jay was doing, he wouldn’t have the energy to participate anyway. 
You, though, are feeling a little bit more awake since your clit is being beautifully stimulated by your boyfriend. Jake’s supposed to be watching you with this little deal, but there were no rules that you couldn’t watch him and fantasize, right?
Jay is a little shocked when you hold his hand in place and turn to face Jake. You close your eyes at first, mostly so it still looks like you’re about to sleep, but you press Jay’s fingers a bit lower, urging him to penetrate you with them. 
He, like the amazing boyfriend he is, follows suit with a curious stare at the back of your head. Then, he turns on his side behind you and spoons you, adjusting his position so that he can swoop his hand under your ass and between your legs in order to do just as you ask of him.
Jay knows what you’re doing, but opts not to say anything despite really wanting to. He assumes Jake is blissfully unaware, somehow, so saying something would turn this whole situation into something more than any of you actually feel like doing tonight.
This goes smoothly for a few minutes, with his fingers gently and silently plunging in and out of you. Honestly, Jay is too good with his fingers and he’s being too quiet compared to normal, again, because of Jake. You know you shouldn’t be including him right now, but you are, even if secretly. 
A breath falls from your lips when Jay rubs his fingers against a particularly sensitive spot inside of you, sending a wave of warmth down your body and dripping out against his fingers. 
“Feels good?” He whispers against your ear, noting the way your breathing is a bit more audible. “Don’t forget that I’m the one touching you, baby.”  He adds in an even quieter whisper. 
You let out a small groan in response, very small. Just loud enough for Jake to fix his eyes on you to find you blatantly staring back at him.
You smile at him and press your ass back against Jay just a little bit, and he’s quick to move his fingers quicker inside of you.
Jake just looks at you, processing that it’s already happening again. 
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
The summer air is salty but all too grounding for Jake as he sits on his towel and watches the way you and Jay appear to be as comfortable as ever wrestling on the shore of the sea. Even after last night, part of him wonders what actually happened but he isn’t sure if he’s allowed to ask. Not only did you look at him as you hit your climax, but Jake was made aware that he needed to be silent in watching you due to your finger coming up to your mouth in a shushing action.
His eyes darted to Jay when you did that but he appeared to be a great actor as he watched the tv with his head tucked between your shoulder and neck, fingers plunging in and out of you casually. Even when Jake gently fucked his own fist, staring directly back at you, he realized that this shared moment with you was something Jay wasn’t aware of. It blurs the lines a bit of what is okay and what isn’t, but the rule is that Jake can watch if he catches the act. He guesses you’re the one breaking rules.
Even now, as he processes this newfound sexual adventure in his head, he’s fond of the relationship Jay has with you. Incredibly jealous, of course, but also just– Jake wants what Jay has.He wouldn’t share you, he wouldn’t want people to see him pleasure you, and he certainly wouldn’t want Jay’s cock to make an appearance at any point during his relationship with you, but you’re not his. 
Still, the two of you seem to enjoy this kind of thing, and the fact that Jake appears to be the chosen third to take part makes him feel warm. Despite his jealousy, he respects the relationship you have with his best friend for the most part. There’s still that selfishness inside him though, the thought of being able to be between your legs rather than just a person to look at across the room? It drives him insane. Jay gets to flaunt you, make you feel good, and make you moan but, Jake is very aware that he got all of your attention the night before, even if it wasn’t his own fingers doing it to you. He got your attention in the car too, to the point of Jay showing his own jealousy. 
Again, there’s a thin line between what he’s allowed to do and infidelity. If you ask him to do anything though, he’s going to do it. He’s going to be what you want or need at any given moment simply because he’s a single man forced to live with his extremely sexually adventurous friends, and you happen to be incredibly fucking arousing to him. Jay kind of did it to himself. Never would Jake have fantasized about you like this if it weren’t for the fact that Jay desperately wants people to see his cock inside of you.
“Hey!” You shout from the shore, pulling Jake out of his thoughts. 
He waves back to you and then glances at Jay who has a huge smile on his face. Jake watches as you struggle to leave the water, the weight of the waves pushing and pulling you as you look at him. He stands to his feet, kicking off some of the sand on his legs, and makes his way towards you as well, meeting you in the middle. 
“I’m gonna have a snack, go waterboard my boyfriend.” You joke when you stop in front of him. 
“There’s chips in my bag if you want any.” Jake waves you off, realizing how normal the communication is between the two of you. In the silence, the communication is somehow more intimate.
When Jake makes his way down to the water, straight up to his best friend, for some reason he still feels like he’s walking on eggshells with all of this. Not with you though, because you clearly know what you want. Jay, on the other hand, shows that he’s annoyed over his plan becoming more of a pleasure for everyone but him.
“You’re not hungry?” Jake asks, dipping himself lower into the water and shivering at the ocean breeze. 
“Nah, we’re finally here. I’m staying in the water ‘til I’m forced to leave.” 
“Ah, good plan.” Jake confirms, allowing himself to float back a bit with the waves.
“Are we okay?” Jay suddenly asks, standing to his feet and looking down at him. “You really are allowed to decline this offer. I'm even a little nervous about it now.”
Jake squints his eyes open towards Jay, the sun blinding him more than his best friend’s smile usually would.
“It’s a little weird but I like trying new things. I’m not trying to disrespect you by accepting.”
Jay sighs in relief. 
“I know. If it’s gonna be anyone, I'd rather it be you.” He laughs with a sigh. “Still would rather her focus on me but I guess I kind of owe her this.” 
Jake adjusts himself back to his feet, tilting his head at Jay.
“Oh yeah?” 
“I mean, it’s not like she was into the whole being watched thing until I told her I wanted to try it.” Jay looks up into the sky, feeling the sun warm his face. “I liked it more than she did, but she came around, I never forced it or anything.” He breathes in the air and sinks lower into the water. “I think she did it to please me but she started getting really into it after a few times.” 
“She’s definitely something–” Jake starts, glancing at your figure flopping back on the sand and sinking your hand into a bag of chips. 
“Yeah, and I guess it’s my turn to let her try the things she’s curious about.” He laughs. “Even though it’s my fault and it involves my best friend. I’m trying to come to terms with the fact that neither of you would do anything behind my back. ”
Damn. 
“Um, yeah.” Jake looks away for a moment. He knows he is famously awful at lying.
Jay looks at Jake knowingly. 
“Like, without me in the room at least,” He smiles, winking at Jake once before throwing a splash at him. “because I know what you guys did last night.”
Jake goes silent, wiping the salt water from his eyes and looking at Jay apologetically with burning pupils. 
“Relax, she told me while you were up there sulking. Said something about the danger of me finding out or something got her going, even though she knew that I caught on anyway.” Jay reassures, explaining away any explanation of Jake himself being the reason for it. “I get it.” He laughs this time.
“Should I like, have not watched?” Jake asks awkwardly, looking away from Jay and floating back a bit. 
“Nah, just give her what she wants. She’s gonna tell me regardless so let’s just try to have fun with this okay? If any of us are having issues, speak up.” Jay glares for a moment. “Because you know damn well I’ll put a stop to all of it if it goes too far.”
Jake nods, a small smile creeping up on his face. 
“What happens at the beach, stays at the beach.”
“God, I hope. I’m not moving you into our room at home.” Jay laughs, feeling a little better about it.
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
A very sexually active trip indeed. Jake could sense the tension in the air by the time all of you return to the beach house. Even through dinner, he sensed both you and Jay staring at him in very different ways. Even though talking made Jay feel better, he’s still possessive over you and you seem to like it a lot . So, he might be playing it up a bit for your sake. 
You are quite literally eye-fucking Jake, and Jay’s eyes are basically demanding him to keep his cock under lock and key. It’s weirdly erotic, and insanely confusing, but he knows Jay will speak up if shit goes too far, just like he said he would. 
By the time the three of you are piled up on the couch and putting in some shitty romance movie, it gets a little more comfortable. 
You’re leaned up against your boyfriend and Jake is leaned up against the arm of the couch at the other end. He doesn’t feel eyes on him anymore and it’s a relief. 
By the time it’s mid movie, he notes the soft snores coming from Jay. You, on the other hand, are feeling mischievous. Jay said to you specifically, away from Jake, no limits . Do what you want to him, ignore the rules, explore, have fun– but be ready to stop at the slightest mention of discomfort from either of them. You’re being given so much fucking power over both of these men. They both want you , and god does it feel fucking amazing to be wanted. 
When you shift towards Jake, gently so that Jay isn’t stirred from his slumber, Jake finds himself leaning towards you without question. Even when you slide yourself under his blanket and grab his hand, he doesn’t falter. 
His attention to the plot on the screen in front of him surely falters though. You’re doing the thing again. You’re excluding your boyfriend and Jake can’t bring himself to give a single fuck right now because you’re quite literally slipping his hand into your panties without so much as a “please?”
Immediately Jake’s fingers explore against his better judgment. He’s seen your pussy stretched out on his best friend, he’s watched you orgasm, he’s heard you moan, but never has he gotten to touch you. 
“Mhm,” You encourage gently when Jake slides his fingers down your slit, collecting the slippery arousal and sliding his fingers back up to your clit. 
  You found yourself wondering how Jake would do it, especially the past day or so. Jay knew how to please you, but you can’t help but think that the act of someone learning how to please you is just as hot. Jake appears to know exactly how to use his fingers against a woman, the thought of him alone with someone other than you only heightens your pleasure at this moment. 
Jake does this for a while, silently and gently rubbing your clit as he forces his eyes to stay on the screen. You just watch him though, and the way he parts his lips in a silent moan when you press against his fingers with the smallest show of want . 
The secretiveness of it really gets you going. Seeing Jake turn to mush in your hands, doing anything you could ask him to do, right there while your boyfriend is sleeping next to you? God, what a fucking simp. You love it. You love the fact that his fingers are slightly softer compared to Jay’s, and the way he avoids sticking them in you even if you insist by lifting your hips slightly.
You lean towards Jake more this time, moving one leg over his lap and opening yourself up for more. 
“You should fuck me.” You whisper into his ear with a voice far too sweet for the words. “He won’t mind.” You add at his silence, feeling his fingers halt as he processes the words. 
“I can’t do that–” Jake whispers back, sliding his fingers down again and noting how much wetter you’ve gotten. 
“Want me to ask him?” You joke, grabbing his hand and holding his fingers right against your entrance. 
Jake shakes his head, feeling nervous as hell as his fingers rest in the one spot he definitely would love to fuck. 
“You’re no fun.” You sigh in disappointment, releasing his hand.
That makes Jake panic a little bit, the words of Jay mentioning that you will get bored with him eventually. It drives him to just—
“Brave boy,” You coo out at the feeling of Jake slipping his fingers inside of you through a panicked motion, sliding them in until you can feel his knuckles against your folds. You knew he would give you what you want.“Your fingers are long. Do you know how to use them, Jakey?”
Jake is fucking floored by the idea that his fingers are inside of you, you’re talking to him like this, and Jay is missing out on all of it.
Except he’s not. To Jake’s knowledge, Jay is in dream land. You, on the other hand? You’re very aware that Jay is terrible at pretending to sleep. Not only is he putting on this show for you, but he’s actually helping you. 
Kind of a shock, because you really did think he was asleep at one point. He blew his cover with a small smirk towards you, peeking an eye open at your shock of him resting a hand on your other leg and spreading it more in your attempt to get Jake to finger-fuck you. Jay wasn’t going to help out, but the moment he heard Jake reject you, he figured that his best friend can definitely be trusted in this situation. 
One of Jay’s favorite things about you is how dirty you can be, but never once has he seen you be more dominant over another person. Certainly not him. He finds it incredibly sexy in the way you both mock and talk down towards Jake even though he’s making you feel good. You don’t do that to Jay, you only moan for him. So yeah, maybe, going against his gut in this situation and allowing Jake to actually touch you is a bit hotter than he wants it to be. 
The best part? Jake doesn’t know your cues when you’re nearing orgasm, but Jay does and he uses that to his advantage. Spreading your leg out further so Jake can do whatever it is he’s doing with his fingers better. 
Jay softens at the fact that he would have already brought you to orgasm by now. Your soft mews sound more like you’re trying to fluster Jake rather than a reaction to pleasure, and it’s fun. It’s boosting his ego so high that he actually wonders how long it’ll take Jake to get you there. 
You feel just as boosted as Jay does right now. With his false sleep as he attempts to help you through this, Jake is half-focused on finger fucking you out of fear that he will be caught. It’s all well and good, but you want to cum. 
“Jake,” You whisper loudly, forgetting that you’re supposed to be pretending this is a secret. 
When Jake tries to pull his fingers out of you at the loud whisper, ultimately so he could pretend he was just watching the movie and absolutely not burying his fingers into his best friend’s girl, you hold his hand in place. Preventing his fingers from leaving you and you look at him. 
“Don’t stop.” You lean into him and whisper in a lower tone, rolling your hips forward against his fingers as you hold them there harshly. “You can make me cum this way, right? I promise I’ll be quiet, just pretend Jay’s not here.”
Jake looks at you, darting his eyes to the sleeping Jay next to you, and then he slowly nods with a nervous swallow. 
He wants to fuck you so bad, but this is all he gets. Still, it’s more than he anticipated and he will be damned if he embarrasses himself by not getting you off like this. Gently, Jake keeps his eyes on Jay as he moves slightly over you, getting a better angle with his wrist so that he can quite literally, fuck you senseless with his fingers. 
With one hand on the couch over your shoulder, the other between your legs, you watch him as his eyes continuously dart between you and your boyfriend. Jake can’t watch the screen anymore considering he’s now faced away from it, he has to watch you. If this truly was a high-stakes session of pleasure, surely the two of you would be caught like this. 
Thankfully, Jake doesn’t notice the very aware hand of Jay gripping your leg open, which makes it more sexy. To see him put your pleasure over his friendship with your boyfriend so willingly, to position himself in such a way that is far more telling than it needs to be, yeah, he’s a fucking simp. 
“Oh, fuck–” You choke out, feeling Jake’s newly angled fingers plunge deeper into you. His knuckle bumps against your clit easily when he does this and it has your entire body jolting a bit. 
Jake swallows that praise, pulling his fingers out and pushing them back in at a quicker pace. The sound of your pussy is not quite as loud as the movie on the screen, but all three of you can hear it. Even Jay has to hold back a small moan at how genuine you sounded just now. His grip on your leg becomes almost bruising as his own arousal stirs past a comfortable level. 
Jake’s eyes aren’t shifting anymore, you notice. As you stare up at him, he stares right back at you. Seemingly forgetting that he’s supposed to be hyper-aware of his surroundings right now. Instead, Jake is noting the way your body slightly shifts up when he harshly pushes his fingers in, to the point he could nearly imagine he’s fucking you.
 Except if he were, he would hope to have you moaning more, moving more, fucking yourself on him, using him. 
You can practically see Jake lose himself to lust. His eyes are dark, and his messy is hair falling against his lashes as if he were the one being fucked out right now. Internally, you feel such a large amount of endearment over him. 
You think back to when he fucked his fist in the car. He was showing an extreme amount of intent during that moment and it had your head fucking spinning watching him do it. You can imagine he must be hard right now. Jay must be hard too. If you wanted to, you could expose Jay for being awake and ask them both to fuck you right now, but you relent. Relishing in this power of having them both, one more unaware than the other. It’s too sweet to put an end to so quickly. 
As you look back up at Jake, you want to kiss him. Jay never said anything about that but you assume that could actually be crossing a line, so you don’t. Against your own wishes of wanting to keep this a secret, you lean yourself to Jay who still tries to pretend he’s asleep. 
Jake watches and panics, but can already feel you grabbing his hand and forcing him to keep pace. The fear that runs through his bones of being caught is fucking intense right now, especially when you lean your head into Jay’s neck and start sucking it.
You can feel Jake try to pry his hand back and you chuckle at it with an unstoppable smile against your boyfriend’s neck because, well, now Jay moves his hand to replace yours. Now he’s the one forcing Jake to keep pace.
Jake’s eyes widened at the realization, relaxing his hand against the unfamiliar grip on it.
“Wait–” He says in a raspy voice, looking between the two of you as Jay peeps an eyes open. “How long have you been awake?”
Jay drops the act with a motion of slamming Jake’s fingers into you one last time before removing his grip and now grabbing yours to place against his embarrassingly hard length. 
“The whole time.” Jay glares at him. “Too late to stop now, go on.” He encourages, wincing at the way you instantly grip him through his pants. “Do as she asked, make her cum.”
Jake feels embarrassed again. Despite technically not actually being “ caught” , he still feels ashamed of what he was doing, yet, his fingers are still in you. 
“Let me see if you can do it,” Jay continues, adjusting his body so that he can look down at what Jake is doing. “Move the blanket, baby.” He adds as he looks at you now. 
Shoving the blanket down, Jake notes how your hand is palming against Jay, and his fingers are inside of you. For some reason, Jay being hard makes him feel a little less ashamed but still embarrassed. How is he supposed to perform under pressure like this?
“Stop looking at us like that. If you’re not gonna continue, I'll finish her off myself – without you, ” Jay half-insults, half-encourages his best friend. 
Jake moves his fingers again at that, the realization of being given permission washing over him so quickly that it almost felt like an orgasm running through his body. He can do whatever he needs to do to make you come. He doesn’t have to hide it, it’s not a secret. 
Without a second thought, Jake pulls himself off the couch and stands to his feet to get between your legs. He looks between the two of you one last time and then down at your pajama shorts. For the first time without asking, Jake pulls them off of you in one swift motion before falling to his knees and examining how wet you look, pulsing around the loss of his fingers. 
“How does she look?” Jay asks with a quirk of his brow, bucking his hips up against your hand and tilting his head to kiss you on the temple. 
Jake says nothing but swallows in response, forcing himself to focus on you and pretend that Jay isn’t there studying the way he fucks his fingers back into you. 
When you let out a small whine at his silence, rolling your eyes the same time you roll your hips, Jay chuckles and reaches to pull his own pajama pants down. If you three are gonna be doing this, might as well have fun with it. 
Jake ignores it still, using his fingers to spread your lips and watch your hole continue to clench around nothing when he slips his fingers back out. Even without seeing your face at this moment, he can see how much you want this. Your glistening folds are practically begging to be fucked by one of them, if not both. He makes haste, watching as your pussy envelopes three of his fingers at once now, clenching them so tightly that he can feel them crowd together inside of you. 
You whimper at it, rolling your hips forward to sink his fingers further into you. 
“Can I lick her?” Jake asks, not moving his eyes from the way he can see your slick drip down his fingers. 
”Please?”
“Does she want you to?” Jay counters, also not moving his eyes from the way your fist circles the head of his cock before sliding back down and making him shiver.
You don’t even answer, and instead use your other hand to reach for Jake’s head, gripping his hair that’s in reach to you and dragging his face forward until you feel his breath on your clit. 
Jake takes that as an invitation, instantly flattening his tongue against your swollen bud and sliding down. You can feel his fingers spreading you open, reaching into you so deeply as you begin to feel his tongue trace around his fingers at your entrance. 
You moan, which makes Jay turn his face and lift your chin as if to shut you up from showing pleasure towards another man. You find that sexy, cute even, so you reward your boyfriend and reassure him with a harsher grip against his cock, milking him of his precum and chuckling into his mouth.
Jake doesn’t even care about what’s happening on the couch. He’s on his knees in front of you, tasting you, fingering you, and he genuinely thinks this might be heaven. He can feel his own length adjust in his pants, happy that the loose fabric accommodates the growth to full hardness. Jake already knows he’s not going to be getting off tonight by anything other than his own hand, and he does not give a shit about it. 
He licks against you as if you are the last woman on earth, honestly, and Jay can’t even bring himself to be in competition with Jake at this moment considering how much attention you’re giving to him and not Jake. This could work, surely, he’s never seen you so horny over a simple handjob before. 
  You roll your hips against Jake’s mouth repeatedly, chasing your high as he continuously tries to accommodate every spot of your pussy that needs stimulation. 
“He’s good at this–” You choke out, reaching to grab Jake’s head and hold him in place against your clit. You can feel his fingers pick up speed when you do that, and you can feel the vibrations of his groans against your clit even more.
“Oh yeah?” Jay laughs in a breath, darting his eyes to see Jake’s shoulder flexing as he fucks into you, his hair a mess between your fingers. “Better than me?” 
You shake your head, eyes sparkling up at Jay as he finally leans down to whisper to you.
“Are you close? You seem close–”
You nod this time, rolling your eyes back a bit when Jake intentionally licks circles around your clit and pumps his fingers painfully fast into you. 
“Don’t tell him,” Jay warns, fucking himself against your now loosened grip. “Do you want me to take over?”
You say nothing back but Jay can see your body tense. He makes haste, jumping up from his spot and practically shoving Jake out of the way to get between your legs. 
Jake doesn’t even know what’s happening, the loss of your warmth around his fingers and the taste of you gone all too quickly as he watches Jay bottom out into you in one go. His best friend’s fingers replace what his tongue was doing, and Jake watches the way you lay breathlessly against the couch. 
Now is his time, he guesses. Reaching one hand into his pants, he shows no shame in using his slick-coated fingers to furiously slide up and down his length at a pace he wishes he were fucking you at.
There, on his knees, Jake pushes and pulls himself to the edge in time with you. He watches your face and watches the way your hands grip against Jay as he fucks into you at a pace that looks painful. The sound of slaps in the room coming from all three of you, finally, you come undone. 
He watches the way you hold Jay’s hips in place, burying himself into you as you quiver around him, and only then does Jake let out a choked moan, coating the inside of his pants with strings of thick, milky cum. 
Just as quickly as you hit your climax, your eyes lazily fall to Jake as he sits out of breath, wet spots staining his pants as Jay continues to chase his own high. 
  The two of you look at each other for a long moment. You can’t help but feel that he looks entirely sexy when he’s spent and empty of his arousal. You don’t sense a hint of disappointment in his eyes as he looks back at you, breath uneven, not at all bothered by the fact that he’s not the one fucking you.
Except he is bothered by it. He felt like he came so close to making you cum, all for Jay to step in and take over. Still, that’s your boyfriend. Jake feels lucky enough to even be part of this. And by the time Jay finally gets himself off, all three of you just look at each other. 
“So,” Jay sighs, out of breath. “She tastes good, right?” He smiles, proud of himself for not letting Jake make you come.
You playfully slap him with a laugh, shuffling from the couch and standing to your feet. You examine the wet spot from where you were being fucked open by both of them and smile at it. 
“Let’s go shower, again.” You sigh, grabbing Jay’s hand and dragging him to the bathroom.
Jake is left sitting there, still on his knees, processing what just happened. 
He could get used to this.
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
By the third night, Jay is geared up and ready knowing full well that Jake has already touched you and he’s going to have to share tonight if your words are anything to go by. If you’re asking him to let Jake fuck you, it’s gonna have to be his way. 
Your eyes sparkled when Jay agreed in the silent morning as Jake slept like a fucking rock in the bed across the room. 
“Don’t worry,” You assured him. “I love you, I’m just having fun.”
“ I know.” Jay responded to you, silently and looking back at you. 
He didn’t worry so much about it after last night, anyway. He got more into it than he thought he would, and the competition of it all got both you and Jay off. Jake appears to be having fun too, and staying aware of the fake-ass boundaries the two of you set for him.
“Tonight?” You look to Jay and nod as you head off for the kitchen in an attempt to make something to eat for both of them.
“Tonight, if he’s willing.”  Jay confirms, ultimately stirring Jake from his sleep. 
“Good morning, you can sleep. She’s gonna make some food since we got her off or something.” Jay says towards Jake after you disappear from the doorway, lifting his arms and stretching his body out. 
“What were you guys talking about?” Jake asks half asleep as he hears your footsteps towards the kitchen fade away. The sleep in his voice is heavy and he clears his throat as he rubs his eyes. 
 “Nothing much. She wants to play a game later.” Jay tries not to ruin the plan. 
“Oh yeah, like what?” Jake sits up, reaching for his phone to check the time. 
“Probably monopoly or some shit.”
Jake notes that Jay appears to sound bored of the conversation, so he doesn’t push or pry any longer.
“We going to the beach today?” He asks now, somehow not feeling awkward at all about last night. It almost feels normal now. 
“Yeah, probably after we eat. Wanna go help her with me if you don’t plan to go back to sleep?”
Something inside of Jake swells up at the invitation from Jay to help you do mundane things. Boyfriendly things. As if the two of them are your boyfriends, and not just Jay.
 “Gonna brush my teeth first.”
Jay nods, giving Jake a tired smile as he heads off into the kitchen after you.
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Jake isn’t sure if he’s thinking too hard about it or if he’s getting his hopes up. He’s a lover, not a fighter, and very much willing to share you if the two of you offered to involve him in the relationship with more than just sex. Cooking in the kitchen with the two of you made him happy. Jay was clearly in boyfriend mode, guiding you by the waist when you were wisping from one end of the kitchen to the other. Jake was also kind of in boyfriend mode, though the two of you probably didn’t catch on. It’s not that he’s trying to intrude, it’s just that, he kind of has a hard time fucking a woman and not having feelings after the fact.
When Jake said you looked pretty, Jay didn’t falter even a tiny bit at the compliment. Instead, he smiled at Jake with a nod because of fucking course you look pretty. And when Jay gave you a light kiss to the lips as you stirred something in a bowl, Jake found himself wanting to do the same. He knows he can’t though, so he keeps to himself in this little unsure bubble of what the two of you feel towards him. 
The food was decent, save for the fact that none of you have stepped foot in a grocery store and are surviving off of what you brought in a cooler from home. Jake could tell some of the vegetables were wilted and needed to be cooked, thankfully, none of you enjoy letting food go to waste so that’s why you’re stuck eating it this morning. 
It’s comfortable. Too comfortable. Especially when Jake takes it upon himself to do the dishes despite always arguing at home about doing them. Jay finds himself in a strange kind of headspace too. Lightening up about the idea of Jake being around and touching you, but also, like, still being possessive because you're super into it. If Jake was anyone else, Jay doesn’t think this trio thing would work out as well. Still, this is a conversation for after the trip. 
  By the time the three of you are at the beach, you make a show of yourself for both of them and anyone else who happens to be looking your way. If tonight goes anything like you want it to, you need them to be absolutely feral for you by the time the sun sets. 
It works for the most part. Ghosting your hand over Jake’s cock under the water, blatantly grabbing Jay’s out in the open just to see him buckle under the arousal of it being in public. You feel on top of the universe as their eyes go from bright to dark and full of arousal as the day goes on.
When you part from both of them, heading back to the shore in order to find a bathroom somewhere, the two of them stay behind. You do your best in giving those two alone time too because surely they need to talk or something.
That, they do. 
“She’s doing all of this on purpose, you know.” Jay laughs, wading in the water beside Jake. “How are you feeling about it?”
Jake shrugs, avoiding the incoming wave and lifting his chin with a wince. “I’m feeling less weird about it now, I guess.”
  Jay nods, looking at him and studying his expression. 
“She wants to fuck you.”
Jake can’t help but smile. He has no words to respond to what Jay just said. 
“Shockingly, I kind of want to see her do it.” Jay splashes Jake as if he’s mad, but stands back as his best friend wipes his eyes. 
“Yeah?” Jake’s eyes are beaming despite the redness of the saltwater hitting them, and Jay just stares at him.
“I don’t know man, I’ve never been into this kind of thing. Sharing, and such, but like–” Jay tries to explain, searching internally for a reason as to why he should hold onto the annoyance of sharing his girlfriend. “I don’t know.”
Jake tilts his head, looking at him. 
“It’s kind of fun?”
Jake nods this time. He’s still getting the short end of the stick but he literally couldn't care less. 
“I like watching and I like when you let me touch her.” Jake admits, glancing away and breathing in through an embarrassed wince over what he just said.
For some reason, that sentence arouses Jay. “When you let me touch her.” Jake is really giving full power to Jay to control a sex life that isn’t his and it’s embarrassingly sexy to be given that power over another man. He’s not entirely interested in Jake sexually, but he is entirely interested in Jake’s sexual interest for his girlfriend. Interested in controlling it. 
“This is going a lot further than we ever intended it to.” Jay comments, sinking himself lower in the water and thinking intently on what’s going to happen after the three of you get home. “Guess we will see what happens.” 
Jake quirks an eyebrow. 
“If I asked you to fuck her, would you?” Jay continues, in his head, about why he feels like all of this is okay to him now.
Jake narrows his eyes, wondering if it’s a trap but ultimately nods. 
“I mean, yeah, if you both told me to.” 
There’s the control again. Jake blatantly gives it up just to get the smallest taste of what you share with Jay. 
“And you wouldn’t do it behind my back? Like, be real with me right now.”
Jake knows he would probably be too weak to say no to you. He thinks you know it too.
“What makes you think she would go behind your back anyway?” Jake counters, challenging Jay’s trust in you.
And then it all makes sense. You wouldn’t go behind his back for anything that’s not agreed upon. You’d tell him everything, you’d involve him, or you’d at least ask if you can fuck his best friend behind closed doors. 
It all feels like it’s falling into place too perfectly, and that’s the only uncomfortable thing about this. Jay looks at Jake and then shifts his eyes over to the shore, where you’ve come back from your adventure to the bathroom. 
“Nah, you’re right.” Jay assures himself, standing back up and waving over to you. “Just keep in mind that she’s my girlfriend and I’ll be the one to make her cum.”
Jake is well aware that you’re not his, Jay doesn’t have to rub it in.
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Though Jay never explicitly stated that Jake would be able to fuck you tonight, it became increasingly obvious as the day went on. Even as you blatantly touched him in front of Jay, he would simply avert his eyes from Jake and carry on with whatever he was doing.  
By the time the three of you got back to the house, Jake had to fucking fight himself to not jerk off in the shower. Clearly you were wanting to have fun again tonight if the sheer amount of touching throughout the day is any indication. 
The showers from all of you went by far too quickly to ignore as well. Jake thinks he beat his record speed of being out and dressed in under six minutes. You and Jay, opting to shower together, made Jake think the two of you would go in there and fuck behind closed doors, but even that didn’t happen as the two of you were leaving the bathroom in under fifteen minutes. 
Now, the three of you are in this beach house away from a city that is far too familiar to you. The air feels electric but also slightly awkward. You don’t know how to start, Jay certainly doesn’t know how to start, and Jake simply needs the green light to make his attempt at whatever the fuck is supposed to happen. It’s a knowing kind of look that the three of you share as you head into the bedroom one by one. Jake doesn’t know if he should get onto his own bed, or yours at this point considering he hasn’t exactly been told what’s supposed to happen. 
He didn’t have to think too hard though, as he trails in behind Jay who guides you to your own shared bed with him. Jake stands there in silence, watching the way both of you pat your hands on the bed as if to invite him in. 
“Shit, this is really happening?” He asks, almost wanting to cover his ears and cringe at the way he breaks the silence. Jay nods to him silently.
“If you want it to?” You ask, scooting closer to Jay and feeling him move a hand to your thigh. 
Jake is careful when he makes his way to the bed, glancing at both you and his best friend as if the gig would be up soon and you’d both start laughing at him for believing that this is happening. Instead, though, you adjust yourself and your boyfriend on the bed as Jake makes his attempt to find a space to claim for himself.
Now lying on your back, head on Jay’s lap as you both watch Jake, he sits himself awkwardly on the side of the bed and stares forward. 
“Bro, why are you all shy? You literally ate her out last night.” Jay laughs, trying to blame the nervousness all on Jake despite not knowing how to get the ball rolling himself at this point. Then, he’s reaching forward and over you to spread your legs out. Your bathrobe does little to hide the lack of material underneath, already bare and ready for both of the men in the room. 
“I don’t know–” Jake argues, glancing over at you and instantly drawing his eyes to what’s beneath the robe. He tries to look away with a gulp of whatever the fuck he was going to say next, but ends up double taking at the view of you being presented to him by Jay. “I’ve never done this before…” He trails off, voice coming to a whisper as he shamelessly stares and the arousal begins to take full hold of his body. 
You shift your hips a bit, as if to grind yourself against nothing to show that just like him, you can be desperate too. 
“Fuck,” Jake sighs out, shifting his body fully onto the bed and facing you. “I–”
“Go on.” Jay encourages, noting the way his friend is practically drooling at the image of you in front of him like this. Proud of himself for having a girlfriend so fucking alluring.
“Should I just,” Jake stops, looking at Jay and avoiding eye contact with you. “touch her? like, what are my limits?’ 
Jay honestly doesn’t care what he does as long as you want it but, what he’s damn sure won’t happen is Jake getting head from you. He can eat you out all he wants but your mouth is to never be on him in any way, shape, or form without being told to do it by Jay himself. 
“Help him out.” You comment, flicking your head back a bit to look at Jay from under your lashes. He smirks at you and responds with a small nod. 
“Remember, you can just tell us to stop if you change your mind.” Jay directs towards Jake as he leans forward and pulls him closer to you by his arm. 
Jake falls a bit, on all fours right between your legs as he stares down at your folds. He says nothing in response to Jay, now lost in the world of getting to taste you again and wondering how many more times he will be granted permission to do this. 
“Stick your tongue out and use it, Jake.” Jay demands in a slightly…off tone? One that seemingly makes fun of Jake for not having touched you yet. 
Jake listens, granting Jay a nice little ego boost as he hums from behind you at your sharp inhale when Jake kisses against your clit. Still, this is going to happen his way and if Jake thinks he can eat pussy well, he’s about to learn.
Jay leans forward, your body leaning with him as he harshly grabs Jake’s hair, pressing his lips against you harder, guiding his head up and down. “Stick your tongue out more–” Jay demands again, gripping his hair harder.
Strangely enough, Jake allows it. He sticks his tongue out the moment Jay demands it, and allows himself to be guided by the hair against your pussy. He groans out against you, tasting you again despite it not being of his own free will. Would Jake prefer eating you out the way he wants to? Absolutely. Does the feeling of having his head guided between your legs also kind of get him off? Oh, fuck yeah. All he has to do is imagine it’s your hand doing it. 
You, however, watch as Jay pulls Jake up, still by the hair, and looks at him. 
“Tongue fuck her, I’ll take care of the rest.” He says, releasing Jake and watching the way he sinks down between your legs again. 
Making it easier for him, you prop your legs on his shoulders, ultimately boxing Jake in against your wet and glistening hole. It isn’t long before you feel his tongue circling, inserting against your walls. It’s not a lot to go off of, but god he looks so good between your legs like this. The image only gets better when Jay unties the loose knot of your robe and pinches against one of your nipples, his other hand going straight to your clit and rubbing it just the way you like. 
“Can you cum like this for him?” Jay asks against your ear, holding you against him with his hand still playing against your nipple. “Let him really taste you?” 
You nod to him with a moan, shifting your hips as if to fuck yourself on Jake’s tongue. Each pinch against your nipple sends a sensation straight to where you’re being stimulated the most, and yeah, you can definitely cum on Jake’s tongue if he keeps trying to reach as deeply as he is now. 
Jay’s fingers are expert when it comes to your body, he could have you falling apart right here, right now if he wanted to, but he doesn’t. He watches, instead, the way you tighten your legs around Jake’s head to pull him in closer. The way his best friend doesn’t even come up for air is laughable, but he gets it. 
It’s the fact that for the first time, Jay kind of enjoys the idea of a man touching what’s his, solely because he can see how badly they want it. Knowing that he, himself, can do it whenever he wants and they can’t.
When your boyfriend rubs your clit faster, it has you chasing Jake’s tongue harder , and when you chase Jake’s tongue, he makes a point to lick every crevice you have to offer in order to entice moans and groans of his name from your mouth. 
When you start to tense up, Jay knows exactly what it means. He lurches forward again and pulls Jake away from you, reaching back just as quickly to rub your clit harder.
“Watch her cum,” Jay smiles, abusing your clit just the way you love it until your legs are shaking and falling from Jake’s shoulders. “Keep your tongue out.”
“Shit–” Jake sighs out, watching your cunt drip out its continuous orgasm. Without any indication from the two of you, he takes the risk and dips back down, tongue lapping up the mess of your arousal and humming against your folds in a beautiful and desperate mantra.
“Oh god–” You choke out, jolting from the sensitivity of his tongue toying with you, Jay continuing to press your orgasm further, not relenting even as sensitivity takes hold. 
Jake licks up every single bit of it and Jay watches him, feeling you continuously quiver in his grasp as you come down from the high. 
“Now, fuck her.” Jay smiles knowingly, looking down at you and the way you already look dazed.
Jake shoots his head up to look at Jay, instantly he’s nodding and practically throwing his pants off. A true desperate show of how much he wants to be inside of you. 
Both you and Jay examine Jake when he pulls his cock out. You’ve seen it before but never in its full glory. He’s big. 
Jay glances down at you with an ‘are you sure you wanna do this?’ look and all you can do is chuckle and wiggle your hips as if to entice Jake to fuck you so senseless that Jay appears to be jealous again. It wouldn’t take much, really, because Jay is jealous right now. He needs to make damn sure you know that his cock is the only one that can make you scream, regardless of length, or whatever. He’s still thicker than Jake is.
Jake watches the two of you share looks and instantly gets a bit shy, doesn’t change the fact that he’s gently jerking himself off in preparation though.
“Condom?” Jake asks, obviously.
“No,” You say, nudging him closer again with your leg. “Im on the pill and you live with us, I know for a fact that you haven’t been fucking around.”
More shy now, Jake averts his eyes as he shuffles his way closer, all the way until he can feel his cock pressed against your leg. In one last attempt before he goes off the deep end, he looks to Jay for approval and is granted it almost instantly with a nod. 
He slides in, painfully slow in your opinion, but to Jake it’s like he’s trying to feel each ridge, clench, and wall around him as he does it. You wince only a little at the size, taking a deep breath and grabbing Jay’s hand when he bottoms out. 
Jake attempts to let you adjust, but it doesn’t go as smoothly as he wants to because the second he pulls his hips back, he’s slamming into you with a force he didn’t even know he had. The sounds you let out as he does this has Jay going fucking insane, you can feel his cock against your back continuously twitching as Jake fucks into you. 
Only when you keep your eyes on his best friend does Jay move from under you, replacing himself with two pillows as he stands at your side. 
“Stop looking at him like that,” He demands, lowering his pants enough to let his cock spring free and in front of your face. “Look at me.” He continues, stroking himself as he stares down at you.
This is what you want. You want them to fight for your attention right now. Thankfully to Jay, Jake is in his own world, head thrown back as he continuously plunges into you with the obvious need of a man who hasn’t had sex in months. 
You stare up at Jay then allow your eyes to fall to his pulsing and raging length in his hand, without hesitation you open your mouth for him.
“Good girl,” He praises, setting his cock on your tongue and allowing you to feel the weight of it before he slowly slides further into your mouth. “How does it feel to be fucked from both ends?” Jay asks with a bit of a demeaning tone. “Is it everything you ever wanted?” He asks again, this time sliding further down your throat before taking hold of your head and holding it in place. 
You have no reason to answer his questions, because he already knows the answer judging from the sound of how wet you are. He can fucking hear it. 
“I bet it is.” He continues through a sigh, effectively fucking your mouth open much like his best friend is doing to your pussy. 
One thing Jake doesn’t seem to catch onto is the fact that both you and Jay are talkers during sex. Jake, not so much, so when your mouth is gagged by a cock, he has no choice but to listen to Jay talk to you. 
Jake’s hips stutter only slightly when you gag around your boyfriend, all because that gag appears to travel down your body. Your cuntclenches him so tightly that he could honestly start crying right now if it wouldn't end with him being made fun of. 
So fucking tight, practically choking him out by the cock. 
“Do that again–” Jake pleads, gripping your legs and spreading them away from his hips. He angles himself a bit more by placing both hands under your ass and pressing into you again, this time stilling his hips so he can feel your walls jerk him off. 
Jay smirks, not knowing what the fuck Jake is referring to. 
“Do what again? Gag her?” He asks, jolting his hips forward and again sliding down your throat.
 You gag, and your pussy constricts.
“Goddamn, yes, that.” Jake chokes out in a sigh, trying to press his cock into you even deeper. 
Jay looks down at you and the way your eyes start to glisten with tears. He knows they’re good tears, especially with the way you try to smile around his cock. 
“So dirty,” He compliments, sliding out of your mouth and wiping a tear from your cheek. “This okay?” He continues, knowing you like it, but he still needs to get that confirmation considering this is new to all three of you. 
You nod with a moan and a deep breath, grabbing his drenched length and sinking it straight back down your throat. Jay seethes a string of curses when you do that. You’re too fucking good at deep-throating and it’s driving him up a fucking wall how hot you are right now. 
Being fucked open is one thing, but being fucked open from both ends is another. Even with Jake practically cockwarming himself in you, you can feel how rock hard he is with each twitch and aroused pulse, his length consistently putting pressure against your g-spot. God, you feel so full.
Jay elicits gags from you again, pulls out so you can breathe, and then goes right back to fucking your mouth at his own pace. Jake, on the other end, has since lost all form of self control with your last gag. You’re dripping around him, clenching him so fucking tightly, he can’t help it when he grips your ass firmly and essentially gags you himself with how hard he begins to piston his hips. Even Jay is thrown off by the way you stop sucking and your mouth goes slack.
He slides out of your mouth, listening as a drawn out moan of Jake’s name comes from your lips. 
“Look at her–” Jay glares, forcing Jake to slow his hips and look at you. “Look at how good you’re making her feel.” He adds again, only slightly more aroused than he is threatened by your expression. 
Jake is looking, watching as your eyes fall to him and you buck your hips up as if to ride yourself on him. 
“God, please Jay, can she ride me?” Jake loses composure, slipping his hands out from under your ass and grabbing your waist. 
Jay doesn’t even get to answer the firm “no” he was intending because he can see you look at him with pleading eyes just like his best friend. It sucks to have all of this power but still not be able to say no to those pretty fucking, tear stained eyes when you look at him like this. What’s worse?
The way Jake is looking at him is arguably…just as fucking hot.
And so, Jay bows his head in approval and wonders when the fuck he became the third wheel in his own relationship, that is, until you sit yourself up, push Jake back, and settle yourself on his thighs. 
You don’t move as you look at your boyfriend, your pleading eyes now turning to concern as he stands by himself off of the bed. For some reason, it comforts him. 
Jay smiles at you softly, kind of like a small confirmation that he’s doing just fine, and then moves forward to further that confirmation for you.
“She takes it so well, right?” Jay averts his eyes to Jake, getting behind you on the bed and settling down with his cock in hand. “Go on, ride him, baby.”
So you do, rolling your hips forward and backwards in a way that has Jake slipping in and out of you with ease. He can feel you drip onto his legs and honestly, he’s in fucking heaven right now as he places both hands on your thighs and stares directly at his cock disappearing inside of you. 
It’s a shame really, considering being ridden is one of Jake’s weaknesses. 
“Can I cum in her?” Jake blurts mindlessly, his hips attempting to fuck into you despite your weight on him keeping his hips down. “Jay, please? Can I cum in her?” 
His questions come out frantic, pleading for the ability to release his control and absolutely let you fuck him into oblivion, but he waits, now halting your hits from moving as if to contain the load he’s about to release without permission. 
“What if I say no?” Jay laughs, gripping his cock and watching the way Jake twitches inside of you. 
You move your hips again, a small chuckle lightly coming out alongside Jay as Jake hits rock bottom and somehow spirals further down. 
“Shit, shit!” Jake groans, urging you to lift up a bit as he painfully begins to slam into you.
Jay can hear his cum seeping out of you with each plunge of his cock, he can see it spurt out of you and down Jake’s legs. God damn it’s way hotter than he anticipated it being. 
Without a second thought Jay is pulling himself up and positioning himself behind you. He doesn’t say a word as he presses the small of your back forward so that your tits press against Jake’s face, and prods his cock at your entrance. Right there beside Jake, he slides in with an uncomfortable stretch. 
“This is how you fuck my girlfriend.” Jay groans, feeling your pussy hug around his cock and his best friend’s. He can already feel Jake going soft from the recent orgasm, but he doesn’t relent. Jay starts moving his hips regardless, fucking Jake’s released load back into you with an impossible stretch.
Honestly, Jay is on cloud 9 listening to both of you whine and moan. Neither of you stopping him, and even Jake finds the sensitivity of his cock being fucked against as insanely pleasurable as it is painful. 
You’re staring down at Jake when you slightly lift, and he’s looking up at you as Jay continuously stimulates you both. At this moment, you’re both in this together and Jay has full control. Deserving control, you think. Smiling at Jake, you drop your head to his neck and start talking. 
“You felt so good,” You praise him, moaning at the way Jay slams into you. “Can you get hard again?”
Jake simply nods because he cannot, for the life of him, think of words right now. He’s already feeling his arousal coming back to him. Even Jay feels it, in the way his softening cock manages to get hard again within mere minutes. He’s never been able to get hard again that quickly, but then again, Jake was practically pussy starved so he doesn’t question it. 
The fit inside of you grows tighter and tighter as Jake’s cock wakes up to the overstimulation, all the way until all three of you are wincing at the drag of Jay continuously fucking into you. The sound of moans, slick, and heavy breathing is all that can be heard when Jake moves his hips at an opposite rhythm of Jay. 
“Oh, fuck yes–” Jay moans, throwing his head back and looking down at how stretched open you are with two cocks stuffed inside of you. “You’re doing so good, so fucking good–” He babbles on, praising you, or Jake, he doesn’t even know at this point. 
Overstimulated, his cock feels as though your cunt has a death grip on it as he continues to squeeze along size Jake’s length, your wet and sore walls clenching them so tightly that Jay barely has to move at all to feel like he’s fucking the daylights out of you. 
Jake’s small thrusts only push the orgasm to the edge for both you and Jay. The head of Jake’s cock drags alongside Jay’s with each thrust and it has him nearly gasping for air when his orgasm hits him.
Jake hasn’t stopped moaning since Jay fit himself into you, nor have you. Who has control in this situation? Not a single person, not even Jay, as he frantically bottoms himself out and shoots his cum against the impossibly tight space inside of you. Jay’s orgasm ignites yours, your g-spot having been stimulated this entire time, you nearly squeeze so hard that they both are forced out of you, but they fight the sensation, continuing to bury themselves into you through your high.
Pained gasps drag on and all you can feel are fingertips both clawing and squeezing at you when you release around them, squeezing both of them tighter, and tighter, until Jay has no choice but to slip his spent cock out of you. 
You slump over instantly, your walls fitting themself back around Jake’s still hard length inside of you.
Jake struggles to orgasm again, unsure of if he has any cum left after the first one, so he pulls out of you the moment Jay shoots a look at him, as if to tell him to stop. Still in his aroused state of mind though, Jake practically shoves you back onto Jay as he works himself up to whatever orgasm he has left by his own hand. 
It takes a moment, but you feel his second load hitting against your thighs not long after and all that’s left to do now is assess the damage.
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
There was no damage. Even as Jay apologetically begs you to tell him the truth. To tell him he went too far, or was too rough. You liked it, and you hate that you have to convince him of it. 
“You sure you’re okay?” Jay asks, kissing you once on the back of your neck after you nod with a dazed smile. “And you?” Jay averts his eyes to Jake, who is sprawled out regaining his breath at the foot of your bed.
“I’m great, actually.” He says, looking over to Jay with a dopey kind of smile. 
“You’re both insane.” Jay finally releases a breath of relief, realizing how much you and his best friend have in common sexually.
It’s…weirdly endearing, making his heart swell at the way both you and Jake look at him expectantly. Like still, he has control over all three of you. 
“You didn’t like it?” You ask, and Jake nods along with your question to look at Jay.
“Of course I fucking liked it.” 
“Then what’s the issue?” Jake asks, sitting himself up now and pretending he doesn’t get a headrush almost instantly. 
Jay thinks hard about it. Is there even an issue? Did he ever expect to actually share his girlfriend with Jake this way? Of course not, but it doesn’t change the fact that all three of you enjoyed every bit of that. Plus, Jake doesn’t appear to be super competitive and listens to everything Jay says to do. 
Who wouldn’t be turned on by that kind of control anyway?
 ・・・・・・ EPILOGUE  ・・・・・・
Jake has become a constant fixture in your sexual relationship with Jay now, but he doesn’t step out of line much to Jay’s pleasure. Even now, months down the road from the beach vacation, all three of you came to terms with the fact that Jake wants to stay, and so do the two of you. 
Rent is split three ways, you’re split two ways, but you get it all. Truly, you feel like you have the best end of this bargain. Even now, Jay tends to have more private sex with you as if to avoid constantly living in the world of kinks and pushing boundaries. You enjoy it. You love sharing moments with him without Jake around, and even when Jake does walk in on it, he doesn’t stay most of the time because now, when it’s meant to be for all three of you, Jake is blatantly invited. He knows now that any sex he isn’t aware of isn’t for him, despite it being the complete opposite from before. 
It’s a comfortable kind of thing. Even if the three of you don’t talk about it outside of these walls, it’s what you like, it’s what they like. Even Jay has loosened up a bit more about you and Jake together. It’s not like you’re dating him, but your boyfriend has actually implied you go busy yourself with Jake when he’s exhausted or too tired to fuck you himself. If anything, when you do go and busy yourself with Jake, Jay usually ends up watching anyway. 
“Jake,” Jay says from across the room after yet another session of cuckolding his girlfriend and best friend. “I hope you know that she’s still my girlfriend and I will always be the one to fuck her better.”
“You’re really gonna say that after I just made her cum twice before you even got your cock out?” Jake laughs. 
“She’s my girlfriend.” Jay glares but Jake can see his smile.
“I know. You keep her happy.” Jake drops the playful act and decides to genuinely let Jay know. 
“Unfortunately, your cock is required for her happiness sometimes.”
“No, his cock is required for fun. You are required for my happiness.” You interject, reminding them that you’re literally still in the room, heaving from your third orgasm.
“And that’s why this little arrangement works out.” Jay agrees, lifting himself to kiss you. “Only I get your love and affection. Jake just gets 30% of your orgasms.”
“10% of yours too, apparently.” Jake shifts his eyes to Jay.
Jay does remember the few times he’s let Jake fuck you and grew so aroused by how you act with his best friend in contrast to himself, that yeah, he guesses he can give Jake and his huge cock some credit for making him cum a few times, but really, it’s because he’s seeing his girlfriend stretched out and cock stupid, definitely because they both whine in unison over him. 
At the end of the day, it’s cute, especially because Jake can still never fuck you as good as he will. You may be cock-stupid for his size, but you’re cock-drunk for how Jay works it inside of you.
And so, it appears that Jay is in a happy relationship with you, a healthy one. One where he’s perfectly comfortable cleaning his best friend’s cum out of you.
 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
1K notes · View notes
sanakiras · 5 months
Text
BLOOM FOR ME
PAIRING — finance major!mingyu x law major!reader
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WORD COUNT — 18.1k
SYNOPSIS — even though you and mingyu share the same friends, there’s a clear distance between you. when you make a drunken mistake, he suddenly becomes increasingly aware of your lack of a relationship with him, and he takes on the challenge of changing it — not expecting to fall for the ice princess who turns out to be less cold than he thought.
TAGS — college au, slice of life, strangers to fwb to lovers, angst, fem!reader, slowburn-ish, rollercoaster of somewhat unrealistic events, minor use of the fake dating trope, not proofread, explicit sexual content, inexpressive!reader, fear of intimacy, once again a fic that seemed better in my head than the finished product but idc!
♪ — pearly drops - bloom for me,, kid cudi - kitchen,, the fugees & ms lauryn hill - killing me softly with his song
NOTE — sooo this fic is pure self-indulgence because i wrote mc as a character very similar to myself! some of these scenes are based on my own experiences :D my personality type is intj which i incorporated a lot here, do with that what you will x
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you and kim mingyu just don't work.
to be honest, you don’t think you’ve ever met anyone who didn’t like him or get along with him. most people on campus either wanna be him or be with him — which makes sense, ‘cause he seems to have it all. he’s smart, talented, and awfully good-looking.
and in hindsight, you have no clue as to how or why you landed in his little clique a few months ago, which is composed of a bunch of guys who appear to have very little in common.
all you remember is how joshua, a pre-med student with a soft voice and a passion for playing guitar, introduced himself to you as you were both assigned to help out with student orientation week at the start of the new academic year, and the rest became history.
you’re not sure how he managed to wiggle his way into your personal life, or why he seems so goddamn keen to be there for that matter. the same goes for his friends — chan, seungcheol, soonyoung, minghao, seokmin and mingyu. you’re closest to joshua and seokmin, though you get along well with most of the group.
soonyoung is pursuing performing arts, and he’s loud — extremely loud. you like his sense of humor though. chan does theatre and has mentioned he wants to have his own dance studio later in life. seokmin also does theatre and is arguably the biggest ray of sunshine you’ve ever met. cheol is a business administration major, a great debater, has quite the fire in him, and he looks great in a suit. minghao is more reserved — a psychology major. very sweet and polite, likes to meditate and is surprisingly good at martial arts as well.
and then there’s mingyu.
he studies finance, though he’s considerably less obnoxious than most of the students who pursue said degree. from what you’ve gathered, he has quite the range of talents, which, in all fairness, is pretty impressive.
the guy might as well be the complete opposite of you. he’s popular, loud, outgoing, smiles a lot, known to have a real heart of gold. an entertainer.
you find yourself at the other end of the spectrum. much more on the quiet side, usually only speaking up if you deem it necessary with a sarcastic quip, more often skipping social gatherings than actually attending them.
yet in spite of your closed-off nature, the majority of people closest to you are extroverted, always trying to pull you with them in their adventures, though remaining respectful and understanding when you don’t come with — because that’s just the way you are.
perhaps that’s the sole reason why your relationship with mingyu can easily be described in a single word.
non-existent.
neither of you have anything against each other — it’s just that, out of the group, you seem to have the least of a connection with him. you certainly never do anything together or talk to one another when you’re not with the rest of the guys, and even during the moments you are, saying you’ve had a proper conversation with him would be an overstatement.
for the most part, aside from saying one-worded greetings and goodbyes, you pretty much just disregard the other’s existence.
or, well — that used to be the case.
because there’s this dirty secret the friend group doesn’t know about — and that’s that you and mingyu slept together.
it happened only a few weeks ago. it was supposed to be a simple, fun night dancing and letting loose at soonyoung’s party, which he hosted right after midterms were over. everyone got drunk, including you — way more drunk than usual, it was terrible — and the only thing you remember is waking up in a room you’d never seen before, a bed that definitely didn’t feel like the one you wake up in every morning, your clothes discarded on the floor, and his warm body next to yours.
had you been even the slightest bit sober back then, you absolutely wouldn’t have gotten into bed with him.
it’s not that you don’t find him attractive. on the contrary. he’s sex on a stick, with his strong arms, small waist, sharp jawline and beautiful tan skin — it’s no surprise he’s done several modeling jobs for some extra cash.
but despite all of that, casual hook-ups with people in your circle are not your thing. they’re not his either.
neither of you remember much of that night. you two are rarely ever alone together, so it’s practically been impossible to talk to you about it, and you’ve never been close enough with one another to even text or meet up.
after the incident, you just continued living your life like everything was the same as before. honestly, for the most part, it was.
but mingyu likes to take risks in life. that, and being open about his feelings is just who he is. so he wants to talk to you, privately.
when he finally does manage to catch you alone, which happens to be right after you’ve walked out of your criminal law class, you’re not exactly welcoming to him.
“what are you doing at the other side of campus?” is all you greet him with.
“i’m good, thank you for asking.” he jokes in an attempt to make things more light-hearted, but you don’t pull a single muscle, face remaining the exact same, so he swallows and clutches the strap of his shoulder bag a little tighter. “i, uh... i felt like we should talk about what happened the other night. soonyoung’s party.”
“what’s there to talk about?”
“what we did. together.”
“we fucked. so what?”
oh. that’s a much more blunt response than he expected, even if he is used to those kind of remarks from you.
“well—” he cuts himself off, really cursing himself for not properly thinking of what to say to you before showing up outside of your lecture hall all of a sudden, “don’t you think it’s something we gotta discuss?”
“you want a professional analysis about how much i enjoyed it or something?” you ask with a furrowed brow. “not that i’d be able to give you one, considering it was all just a blur.”
“yeah, i can’t exactly remember much of it either. look, i... i don’t usually hook up with people i’m friends with—”
“except we’re not friends. i don’t think you’ve ever said as much to me as you have in this conversation.”
even though it’s true, it does feel like a slap across the face for a reason he can’t pinpoint. he’s aware you can be blunt sometimes, but this is more than people usually get out of you.
“fine. we’re just acquaintances. but we do share the same friends.” he says after a moment of awkward silence, his tone sounding a little colder than before, subconsciously trying to compensate for your unwelcoming attitude. “doesn’t that matter to you?”
sucking at the inside of your cheek, you sigh. “did your roommate notice me?”
his roommate being jeon wonwoo, the cute computer science major who likes to spend his free time working out and playing video games, always walking around campus with headphones stuck in his ears and a pair of glasses up on his nose. he and mingyu are both on the football team, you’re pretty sure.
“no. he didn’t see a thing. not as far as i know, anyway.”
“good. so that means we can both just pretend it never happened, yeah?” the smile you put on your face is so painfully fake that it makes him clench his jaw.
“yeah.” he mumbles bitterly, and you move away from him, going down the stairs, and mingyu rests his head against the wall, huffing in annoyance and embarrassment.
to be completely honest, he’s not sure why the whole ordeal bothers him so much. what you said was all true, even if you could’ve worded it differently.
many, many questions pop up in his mind. do you have something against him? do you not like him? if that’s the case, why? has he ever said something that caused you to get a bad impression of him? what do his friends have that he doesn’t, aside from considerably shorter legs?
he’s not sure what it is about you he finds so weirdly intriguing, but whatever it is, he’s discovered a fresh determination in him to find out.
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mingyu is unsure of how to handle the situation with you. every time you look at him, all he sees is utter disinterest, though there’s very little he can make out of your facial expressions in the first place.
he finds himself seated at a table in the library with minghao, seungcheol and chan, pondering over the exam he’s got coming up at the end of the week, said thoughts coming to a halt once he spots you at the other side of the hall.
his gaze involuntarily follows you as you appear to be scanning a few bookshelves.
if he’s being honest, he’d already noticed you before the drunk-sex incident. he always thought you were pretty, and based on your your vocabulary and the way you spoke, he figured you were intelligent as well, so he silently admired you from afar.
and now, those feelings have only increased.
his eyes linger on your figure. it’s such a fucking shame he doesn’t remember his hands on your skin, the touch of your lips — he could actually cry just imagining it.
then he feels he’s getting too far in the sexual innuendos in his head, so he tells himself to stop right the hell now before his excitement starts to show in his pants.
god, he’s never like this. why is it irking him so much?
it’s chan — the youngest of the group — who grabs your attention, beckoning for you to come over to the table.
when you move to sit down on the empty chair between him and seungcheol, they begin to talk about how the shitty assignments they’re working on are so not worth their time, how one of cheol’s professors didn’t bother showing up for his lecture yesterday morning, and minghao mentions something about a new group project of his—
—and the whole fucking time, you feel mingyu’s gaze burning on you.
it both confuses and intrigues you. what the hell does he want now?
then when two of the boys get into a discussion, you stare right back at him, almost as if to tell him you’re aware of him watching you and you’re watching him as well, and a very thick yet silent tension rises between you.
he swears he catches the smallest glimpse of amusement in your features before you get up and tell them you’ve got to go to your lecture.
cheol raises his thick brow at his friend. “you’re uncharacteristically quiet.”
mingyu shrugs as he watches you walk out of the hall. “yeah, sorry. been a little preoccupied.”
“i can tell, ‘cause aren’t you supposed to be starting football practice right now?”
that snaps him out of it. he checks the silver watch sitting on his wrist, cursing to himself before grabbing his things and hastily throwing them into his bag before sprinting to his dorm.
the following day, as he’s working on his assignment, he decides to take out his phone, typing your username into the search bar on instagram.
your social media profile is as mysterious as you are. zero posts, some pretty aesthetic pictures found in your highlights as well as one or two with you on it, though blurry or with your face partially hidden.
it’s usually much easier for him to get close to people, yet with this, with you — it feels like the way is blocked, and he doesn’t know where to start.
tapping his finger on the table, he tells himself to make some kind of conversation with you the next time he sees you.
which is several days later, when the friend group is meeting up at a restaurant for dinner and drinks.
by the time he arrives — later than planned due to a study session running behind — everyone is already seated, including you. he’d hoped to secure a spot next to you for once, but you’re seated between joshua and seungcheol instead. the only vacant spot is at the other side of the table.
well, shit.
the worst thing is that you don’t seem to spare him a single glance. every time he looks your way, you’re either zoned out or intently listening to the boys around you as they tell their stories, with you throwing in a sarcastic little quip every now and then, making them laugh.
what he doesn’t notice is that you do look at him — he’d be surprised by the amount of times your eyes wander back to him, subtly observing him from a distance when he rambles about something his professor did during class or what went down during football practice.
he’s so handsome that it almost gets annoying to look at him.
it’s an hour before midnight when you decide to get going — you have an unnecessarily early class tomorrow and still gotta get back to your dorm. so you grab your coat and bag, announcing you’re leaving, after which they say they don’t like the idea of you going back on your own, but you refute it and tell them you’ll be fine like always.
“i can take you. i just remembered i gotta catch up with some things anyways before class tomorrow.”
mingyu’s sudden statement makes you blink at him a few times.
it’s not that he’s never offered to take you home before, ever the gentleman, but the situation always ends up with you either going home on your own with them keeping an eye on your location or one of the other guys taking you back, so his sudden eagerness to escort you to your dorm catches you by surprise.
it’s mainly joshua and minghao who catch onto your slight change in demeanor, but their puzzled looks are gone as soon as they came. they’ve had quite a few drinks, after all, and you’re pretty sure soonyoung is so drunk he’s on the verge of tears at the other side of the table, distracting them.
both you and mingyu say your goodbyes to the rest of the group before exiting the restaurant, embracing the fresh air outside.
it’s early october, your favorite time of year. you’re fond of the cloudy skies, the temperature right between warm and cold, and the leaves changing colors.
mingyu walks next to you on the sidewalk, his hands shoved into the pockets of his dark denim jacket.
“i’m sorry for being rude the other day,” you speak up, breaking the silence, “i have a habit of being too straightforward for my own good.”
oh.
he didn’t expect this from you, but it’s a pleasant surprise, even if you’re not looking him in the eye at all.
so he shrugs. “it’s okay. looking back, i didn’t really know where i wanted the conversation to go, anyways.”
“i assumed you were just gonna ask me to keep it between us.”
“i didn’t even think about that, to be honest. i just don’t do stuff like that with friends, so... i guess i was just curious about your thoughts or something.”
you bare your teeth in a bitter smile, still refraining from looking in his direction when he’s clearly looking at your face. “you called me your friend again.”
the comment doesn’t sit right with him. “do you mind me asking why that bothers you?”
“it bothers me ‘cause it’s not the truth.”
god, you certainly do not sugarcoat things.
“do you... is there anything i did to make you dislike me?”
mingyu watches the way you clench your jaw at his question. it intrigues him. “i never said i disliked you, mingyu. i’m just picky about who i consider close to me and i don’t want anyone to get the wrong impression. sharing friends doesn’t make us friends.”
“not even a little bit?”
you chuckle again. he wonders what he’d have to do to elicit a real, genuine laugh from you. “name one of my hobbies. something i like to do in my spare time. the basics don’t count.”
he eagerly starts his sentence. “well, you like to... y’know... hang out with us.”
“i said no basics.”
“okay. fine. you got me. but, to be fair, you also gotta admit you don’t exactly share much.”
“you know who i do share things with? my friends.” you tease him, after which he laughs. you like the sound of his laugh.
“you’re evil.”
“thank you.”
he turns around, walking backwards in front of you so he can face you, finally getting the eye contact he’s been waiting to get. “i wanna be friends.”
“congratulations.”
“oh, c’mon. work with me here.”
“i would if it wasn’t so much fun to see you acting like this.”
mingyu feels a certain excitement rushing through his body when he sees how you look at him. “let’s get to know each other better. how about twenty questions?”
“oh, you mean like a conversation?”
he chooses to ignore your sarcasm for now. “i’ll go first. what’s a hobby of yours?”
“such depth,” you snicker, “i like to ice skate.”
“really? that’s cool.” he smiles, tilting his head. “okay. you gotta ask me a question now.”
“which of your friends is closest to you?”
yeah, he should’ve seen something like that coming. of course you wouldn’t go for small talk.
he ponders over the question before giving his answer. “minghao.”
“hm. interesting.” you just hum, clearly having no intention of explaining it, so you gesture for him to come up with another question.
“do you think you’ll ever be close with me?”
“no.”
“why?”
“not your turn.” you tell him, simultaneously trying to find out how far you can take this. “how many girls have you slept with?”
“four. why do you think we won’t ever be close friends?”
“because we’re too different. you can’t stand the fact that i give nothing away, i can sense it a mile from here.”
“it’s not that.”
“what is it then?”
“i’m… i don’t know, a people person. i want to get along with everyone, want everyone i like to like me. maybe that’s selfish, but… yeah. i like you and i wanna be your friend. it bothers me that you don’t.” he feels the words suddenly tumbling out of his mouth are taking the conversation elsewhere, so he tries his best to not come across as too intense. “i’m sorry for pestering you about it, i’ll just... walk you to your dorm and leave you be.”
he wants to increase the distance between you, but you don’t let him. your hand moves to his upper arm, touching him, but it’s gone before he can even look at it.
physical touch has never been one of your strong points, despite craving it at the same time. “i’m gonna say it one more time and that’s it — i don’t dislike you. maybe… i don’t know, maybe we could have a strong friendship, who knows. if you wanna prove me wrong, be my guest. i won’t stop you.”
“okay. anything i should know?”
you pout your lips as you think of things to mention. “i’m not a huge fan of texting. i prefer calling or meeting up in person. i’m more of a listener than a talker. i’m also a bit of a control freak so i’m not big on surprises. that’s all you’re getting for now.”
he thinks over your words and smiles. “i can work with that.”
not much later, you arrive at the university campus, and you use your card to enter your building, walking out front.
mingyu clearly feels it’s mandatory to follow you all the way to your door.
once you’ve arrived at your dorm, you lean against the doorpost. “thanks for taking me home.”
“you’re welcome. see you tomorrow.” he says. normally he’d give his friends something like a hug when saying goodbye like this, but he has a gut feeling you’re not very fond of physical contact with people who aren’t close to you, so he lets that go for now.
“bye.” the playful smile is audible in your voice before you close your door, and mingyu leaves your building with a sickeningly nice feeling in his stomach.
and he remains on your mind, especially once you watch him walk towards his own dorm from behind the window, unaware of your gaze.
it makes you scoff to yourself. you’ll give it to him — he’s sparked your interest.
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“hey. mingyu.”
he’s roughly pulled from observing you in his secure spot in the university library by jeonghan, his partner for a project he’s working on. “what?”
“what’s going on? you’re awfully distracted.”
“it’s—nothing.” he responds, voice an octave higher. maybe he should quit this habit of looking at you every time he comes here.
“has anyone ever told you you’re a shitty liar?”
“many times, actually.”
“good. ‘cause you are.”
jeonghan is shorter than he is, with more of a lanky physique and slightly longer hair. he’s also the most annoying little shit mingyu knows — despite the guy being older than him — because he somehow. knows. everything. all the time. he knows things about mingyu before he knows them himself. if anything, it’s a talent.
“so who’s the girl?” jeonghan then asks in a more hushed tone, using his pencil to point at the girl in question.
mingyu looks in your direction again, taking notice of how nice you look today, and he just gives in to his friend, not even bothering to try and act stupid. “friend of a friend.”
“what does she do?”
“law.”
“she nice?”
“to a specific group of people, yeah.”
“oh, she’s a little mean to you, huh?”
“not mean. just distant. very distant.”
“that’s new.”
“what is?”
“you going for girls like that. it’s refreshing.”
“yeah, well—she doesn’t go for guys like me.”
“what do you mean?”
“i’m pretty sure she doesn’t like me at all. she’s wildly unimpressed by my presence, anyway.”
“how do you know?”
mingyu sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “she’s very close with joshua and seokmin, likes the rest of the guys too, but me… i don’t know. we’ve been in the same friend group for a year, and it’s like i’m the only one she doesn’t feel comfortable with. bothers me.”
“you’ve known her for a whole year and it’s only bothering you now?” jeonghan senses there’s more going on. “what led up to this? got into an argument?”
the younger of the two scoffs. “not at all. the contrary, actually.”
jeonghan jokingly throws in the first thing he can think of. “what, did you accidentally kiss her when you were drunk or something?”
“not entirely. we were both drunk, for starters.” mingyu comments, the next sentence muttered much more quietly. “and we had sex.”
a scoff of surprise leaves jeonghan’s mouth. “you slept together? when?”
“soonyoung’s party.”
“that was weeks ago. haven’t you talked about it? at all?” he asks, clearly invested in the story now.
“i brought it up, she brushed it off and said it meant nothing. told her i wanted to be friends with her a couple days later, but she said she doesn’t think we’ll ever be good friends ‘cause we’re too different, and it’s fucking killing me for some reason. she still said she was… open to friendship though.”
“ah, you like her.”
“yeah, obviously. problem is that she hates me.”
“no, i mean, you like her. you don’t just want to be her friend.”
mingyu is somewhat taken aback by his words. “i don’t have a crush.”
“don’t fool yourself. you’d never get this worked up over someone not wanting to be friends with you — you’re worked up because you wanna get to know her better and she doesn’t seem like she wants to get to know you at all.”
“i can’t be in love with someone i hardly know.”
“debatable. you still have a crush on her.”
“fine. whatever. say that were the case — purely hypothetical of course — what should i do to get her attention?”
jeonghan has that knowing smile on his face, the one that makes him look like he’s up to no good. “you gotta get a little selfish.”
“could you be a little less vague for once in your life?”
“create a circumstance where she spends time with you without it being planned.” he shrugs, as if that answers it. “something like getting stuck in an elevator for a few hours. you know what i mean.”
“well, unless you were planning on hijacking the elevator somehow, i don’t think i have all that many options.”
right there and then, the two recognize another student from their statistics class sitting a few tables further. she’s giggling to her friends about something, hesitantly looking their way, pointing at them.
“speaking of crushes, she’s got one on you.” jeonghan mentions, raising his brow.
it doesn’t interest mingyu all that much. “yeah, she asked me out a while back. i told her i was busy. didn’t have the heart to flat-out reject her. in hindsight, maybe i should’ve, ‘cause she acts like that every time i see her around.”
jeonghan can’t help but take advantage of the opportunity currently presenting itself like a fucking birthday cake. “are you thinking what i’m thinking?”
“probably not, since i have no idea what you’re getting at.”
he leans a bit closer to his taller friend, speaking in a more hushed tone this time. “you could reject her — subtly.”
mingyu frowns at that. “how?”
and jeonghan smirks a little to himself before he’s about to tell him his plan. “you’ve heard of fake dating before, right?”
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the following day, you find yourself in the library of the law faculty, reviewing the slides of the lecture you didn’t feel like attending this morning.
someone drops their bag ever-so-subtly on the table at the empty spot next to you, and when you look up from your notes, you recognize your dearest acquaintance.
you huff, removing one of your earbuds to engage in the conversation you didn’t ask for. “what do you want?”
“you have got to stop saying that when you see me.”
“no, i like it this way.”
“of course you do.” mingyu merely scoffs at your words, sitting down next to you. “you look busy.”
“gee. it’s almost as if i am busy.”
“what’re you working on?”
“undoubtedly nothing you have any knowledge of.”
he rolls his eyes when you grin at him, clearly ready to dodge his questions with more of your sarcastic comments.
“are you always this much on edge?”
“mhm. i hope you are too — otherwise you’re taking up too much space.”
the comment has him frowning at first, and then he gets it, making him let out a vaguely impressed scoff. “you’re cute.”
“not exactly the word i would use.”
“really?” he says, taking the cap off his water bottle, “i think it suits you.”
you squint your eyes at him, finally taking the bait. “what do you want? seriously.”
he shifts in his seat, clearly happy you’re finally going along with him here. “you know the senior gala on thursday, right?”
“yeah. i’m not attending.”
“okay. here’s the thing — i kind of have this girl in one of my classes who won’t stop bothering me about going out on a date with her and stuff.”
“gosh, poor you.”
“i’m serious. it sucks.”
“what does this have to do with you bothering me?”
“well, i figured if she finally saw me with someone else, she’d back off.” he explains, leaning a bit closer to you. “meaning i need a plus-one who’s willing to play my girlfriend for the night.”
“so?”
“so, i’d like you to be my plus-one.” he grins.
“why?”
“why not?”
“you’re saying you wanna pretend to be dating?” you ask, and when he nods, you shake your head. “no one’s gonna believe that.”
“yeah, they will. it’s perfect. same friend group, completely different majors so she probably doesn’t know you — c’mon, consider it.”
he’s surprisingly convincing, as if he already knows how to crack your demeanor. you remain stubborn, though. “out of all the girls you’ve got in your contacts, you’re asking me?”
“you’ve made it clear we’re only acquaintances — i wanna change that. become friends. just like i told you.”
you finally lock eyes with him again, taking your pen away from the paper, refusing to back down once you notice how close he is. “i don’t know what you’re expecting, but you’d get nothing out of a friendship with me.”
he keeps his eyes on yours. “i’ll be the judge of that.”
when you roll your eyes at him, he can tell you’re considering it. “when does it start?”
“ten.”
“dress code?”
“go for a cocktail dress.”
twisting your lips, you push your tongue against the inside of your cheek, and even you are a little weak for those big, brown eyes of his. and you said you’d give him a chance, after all. “fine.”
“great!” he nearly jumps in excitement. “text me when you’re ready and i’ll come and pick you up.”
“yeah, yeah. now go. i got shit to do.”
and once you’ve watched him cheerfully skip out of your sight, the tiniest smile rises to your face, after which you chuckle to yourself.
mere days later, on thursday, mingyu finds himself at your doorstep. it’s not like him to feel nervous — so why the hell is he this time?
you open the door hastily. “hey. you can come on in, i’m all ready except for the pair of earrings i can’t seem to find.”
he watches as you search through small drawers in the cupboard by the wall. maybe he should be glad you’ve got your back faced to him, because he’s subconsciously staring at you, checking you out.
the velvet red one-shoulder dress hugs your features just right, and he’s stunned in his place before you notice he still hasn’t closed the door behind him. “mingyu. the door.”
“uh—yeah. sorry.” he stumbles, stepping inside, doing as he’s told before his eyes wander around your room. “don’t you have a roommate?”
“i used to have one, in my first year. got a single room after.”
“must get quiet after a while.”
“i like it that way.”
your words remind you of his roommate, wonwoo. he figures you’re someone who prefers solitude after a day of being around others, which he keeps in mind.
once you’ve found your earrings, you’re putting them in, and you notice him stepping closer to you. he actually looks criminally good in the black suit he’s wearing, his half-long hair sitting just right. the fucker might as well be a real-life prince charming.
you’re glad you went with smokey eyes. your look compliments his.
as you subtly watch him in the mirror, he comes to stand behind you, holding out the modest bouquet of red roses he’s been holding behind his back. “these are for you. i appreciate that you wanted to come with me tonight.”
the gesture makes your eyes soften. “thank you. oh, they smell nice.”
mingyu feels a little giddy inside when you give him a little smile before putting the flowers in a vase with water. it might be the first time he’s seen you give one that is genuine.
the gala is taking place at a fancy hotel close to university. the walk there only takes a few minutes. once you're nearing the entrance to the party, dimly lit chandeliers catching your eye, he gently puts his hand on your back, just underneath your shoulder blades. you raise a brow, looking over at him, and he shrugs. “i’m your fake boyfriend for the night, remember?”
which has you chortling for a second. “that’s not where to put your hands if you wanna make this believable.”
before he can change the position of his hand, you’re already doing it for him, pushing his hand lower with yours, watching the way his face drops when you allow him to go lower than your hips, breath hitching in his throat.
“that’s better. you can hold me and kiss me on the cheek if you have to. not too much, it’s not the right time and place for it anyways.”
“noted.”
once you’ve arrived inside and given your coats away, you notice most people here are strangers to you, anxiety kicking in, internally wishing you’d consumed some alcohol before coming.
and your companion takes notice of this from the way you’re suddenly squeezing his hand, which you’re undoubtedly not doing on purpose.
“you okay?”
“sure, i’m fine.” you faintly smile back at him.
he’s honestly considering saying fuck it, ready to ask you to just get out of here with him and go anywhere else instead — that is until one of your friends comes up to you.
“am i imagining things—”
“we’re fake dating, josh.” you answer him, increasing the distance between you and mingyu as if to emphasize your point. “his idea, not mine.”
joshua appears all kinds of confused. “okay. um… just—why?”
mingyu presses his lips together. what he said about the girl bothering him was all true. could he handle it on his own? probably. is fake dating slightly unnecessary and a little dramatic of a solution? undoubtedly.
but he just wanted you as his plus-one so bad. he saw it as an opportunity he couldn’t miss out on.
what can he say? jeonghan is weirdly persuasive.
“there’s this classmate of mine who won’t get off my back about dating, so i figured she’d quit if i showed up with a girlfriend. girlfriend being her.”
in spite of the explanation, joshua still looks at the two of you with a frown. “right.”
“i’m gonna go get us a drink. be right back.” mingyu says, almost regretting doing so when he realizes he has to take his hand off your back.
you watch him walk off to the bar, suddenly hearing your best friend chuckle softly next to you. “can’t believe i never considered you two before.”
“what are you talking about?”
“you and him. you’d be a nice match.”
“what, me and mingyu? we’d be a disaster.”
“why?”
“we’re too different, josh. and don’t even try to give me that opposites attract crap.”
his soft facial features melt into a smile that gives off the impression he knows something you don’t. “i think you’d be surprised. that’s all.”
whatever the fuck that means.
your fake boyfriend returns not much later with a drink for the two of you. despite your clear disagreement with joshua’s words, you just can’t help but think about what he said, especially when mingyu’s arm remains looped around your waist for quite a while as the three of you discuss the whereabouts of your friends.
the worst thing is that you don’t even mind him touching you. you’ve always been picky when it comes to the people who are allowed to as much as stand close to you, and mingyu was not one of those people until you grabbed his wrist after he took you home from dinner, which was only last week.
and that’s not the only thing you’re becoming increasingly aware of.
mingyu’s popularity is a bigger thing than you thought. either that, or half the people here are from his faculty. which is highly unlikely.
being as observant as you are, you’ve noticed several girls as well as guys pointing your way, making you feel uneasy.
so your hold on him tightens as you stare back at them, as if to silently tell them to fuck off and focus on someone other than your fake boyfriend.
you’re not actually jealous. no, that’d be ridiculous. you can’t be jealous of others wanting something you don’t even have in the first place.
chan and seokmin arrive half an hour later, having pretty much the same reaction to the situation as shua. but they play along.
though not without noticing how comfortable the two of you are together.
after several hours of drinking, dancing and socializing, you feel in need of a break. “hey, i’m just gonna get some fresh air outside, okay?”
mingyu’s lashes flutter as he nods. “would you mind if i came with?”
you gesture that you’re okay with it, so he takes your hand to guide you through the mass of people without losing you, the littlest of touches sparking an indescribable feeling in your stomach.
the air feels much colder now that you’ve been inside the warm hotel for several hours. you sigh, leaning back against the brick wall behind you, the surface feeling slightly uncomfortable on your one uncovered shoulderblade.
mingyu takes fake dating very seriously, as it seems. he’s practically been unable to keep his hands off you, and you’re going to indulge in it for however long it lasts.
as you’re standing outside together, you notice he’s loosened up more around you, not hesitant to get close either. he’s certainly not afraid to put his hand on your thigh, and you make zero effort to push him away.
his lips ghost by the skin of your neck, alcohol clouding his thoughts. “it’s nice to have you here. i wasn’t all that excited about going at first.”
“yeah, yeah. i made your night ten times better.”
he snickers. “you hear that often?”
“every now and then. don’t sound so surprised.”
“it doesn’t surprise me. i was just hoping i was special compared to the others.”
“doesn’t everyone?”
“you’re a little cryptic, anyone ever told you that?”
“maybe.” you respond, chuckling, allowing his lips to touch your bare skin.
mingyu bites his lower lip, not afraid to look you in the eye to match your playful gaze with a similar one. “do you not remember a single thing from the night of soonyoung’s party?”
he almost smacks himself for asking the question, seeing your expression falter a little. “no. neither do you, as you’ve told me.”
“no, i don’t,” he says firmly, mentally trying to slap himself for consuming so much alcohol that it makes him say things he usually wouldn’t, “but i kinda wish i did.”
“why?”
when he remains quiet, still trying to figure out the best way to respond, you gently take a hold of his chin to lift it up, making sure he keeps his eyes on yours. playing with him is fun.
“i...” he tries to utter the words, but god, he might as well be hypnotized.
before he can give his answer, seokmin loudly stumbles out of the building, catching your attention. he’s clearly had a bit too much to drink, his boisterous laughter echoing through the courtyard. seungcheol follows closely behind, a hand on his shoulder.
whatever moment you and mingyu were having is gone in an instant. cheol spots you, keeping his friend somewhat upright in the process.
“i’m gonna go take him home, couldn’t find the other guys. i think soonyoung might be next, though.” he says, doing his best to keep seokmin upright in the process.
so mingyu nods. “okay. i’ll go check.”
they say their goodbyes, after which he proceeds to looks at you again. you let your head rest against the wall again. “you go ahead. i’ll meet you back inside in a few.”
he silently agrees, returning to the people inside. you appreciate the silence, mentally drowning out the sound of people talking and cars driving into the background.
it’s then that some girl you’ve never seen before walks up to you. “hey. you’re mingyu’s new girlfriend, right?”
the crease between your brows becomes apparent. “have we met?”
“no, no. i’m in the same faculty as him. i was just curious. didn’t know he was dating anyone.”
she’s clearly had a bit to drink, though not enough for her speech to be incoherent. you’re not sure what to give her other than an awkward smile that looks anything but genuine.
but either she’s too far gone to catch the hint or she simply doesn’t want to. “was kinda surprised to see him end up with a girl like you.”
and since she’s probably not gonna remember this conversation tomorrow, you decide to engage in it for once. “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“i don’t know, ‘s just... you seem a little distant. just different. he’s never really gone for someone like you. no offense or anything.”
you keep your composure despite a certain emotion brewing hot inside you, whatever the hell it may be. the sheer audacity of some people to stick their nose in business that’s not their own. “gee. hard to fathom i landed a guy like that, huh?”
the sarcasm dripping from your tongue finally seems to get it through to her that her opinion is anything but wanted, so she mumbles something about going back inside, after which you lean back against the wall, closing your eyes for a moment.
worst thing is that she’s probably right.
you and mingyu just don’t work.
and you don’t even have feelings for the guy, so why does it bother you?
the whole thing upsets you enough for you to go back inside, rushing to find him to tell him that you don’t feel like staying.
when you return to him, he’s so used to his role that his hand finds your waist and his lips touch your cheek, but you smoothly back away this time. “i’m gonna go back to my dorm. you guys have fun.”
even over the noisy music and chatter in the background, he notices the change in your tone and behavior, which gives him the hint that something has upset you. “why? is everything okay?”
“i’m fine.”
“i’ll take you back.”
“i’d appreciate it if you didn’t.” you tell him, sounding harsher than intended. again. god, you keep messing up. you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose for a moment. “i’m sorry.”
mingyu is still processing your words as you’re leaving him behind.
then when you’re walking towards the exit, a girl accidentally bumps into you, spilling her drink over your dress.
goddamn. you wonder what the fuck you did to the universe for it to give you a night as shitty as this.
she begins to profusely apologize, very obviously sincere, but you just curtly tell her it’s fine, annoyance rising.
mingyu notices the situation from afar, deciding to go after you when he sees you walk to the bathroom instead of the exit.
the bathroom is awfully fancy, but it seems only fair for a hotel like this. clenching your jaw, you grumble while getting some paper towels, hiking the dress just a bit upwards.
god, you’re never agreeing to do that fake dating shit ever again. what a joke.
you huff as you keep trying to get the now barely visible stain out of your dress. you’re rubbing over the fabric on your thigh when someone walks in.
of course it’s him.
“any luck getting it out?” he asks, and you clench your jaw, throwing the wet paper towels into the trashcan beside the sink. your hands hold onto the cold surface, knuckles growing white as you focus on them instead of him.
“why am i here?”
“what do you mean?”
you turn your gaze to him, abandoning your quest of getting the stain out of your dress, annoyed that he’s acting like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. “why did you invite me here? out of everyone you could’ve gone with, why did you wanna go with me?”
“are you angry at me?”
“answer the question.”
“i just…” he trails off, trying to think of the right words. “i just figured it was a way to become friends.”
you’re actually going to lose your shit if he as much as utters the word ‘friend’ to you one more time. “oh, jesus. cut the bullshit. why do you wanna be friends with me so badly?”
“i don’t know, because… because it occurred to me — y’know, after the party, after what we did — that we have little to no relationship and i wanted to change that.”
“oh, right. you just had to sleep with me before thinking of that.”
“no, i didn’t. i just haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that night, and i—”
what the hell is he even supposed to say? he’s not even sure what exactly it is he wants from you. sure, he wants to be friends — but god, he spends so much time wishing he remembered what it was like to touch you that night, what you looked like underneath your pretty little dress, what you sounded like.
you’re quiet for a second before your whole demeanor changes, agitation shifting to intrigue. “so that’s what this is about.”
“well—what?”
“if you wanted to fuck, you should’ve just said that. instead of dragging me to this shit.”
“i—” he suddenly feels suffocated by the small size of the room and your body getting closer to his, backing him up against the door. “that’s not why i—”
“does it matter?” you ask, and he tries to hide his ragged breathing now that you’ve pressed your front against him, clenching his jaw.
it doesn’t help that you’re watching him like a hawk.
“not to repeat myself all the time, but i—i normally don’t do this with friends. i don’t want you to have the wrong idea of me.” he exclaims, cursing himself for looking down at the way your red dress is accentuating your curves so well.
so you begin to unbutton his shirt, and he breathes heavily because of it. “well, i guess you’re in luck. ‘cause we’re not friends.”
he’s about to tell you that he genuinely wants to be when you finally kiss him. it’s fast and intense and hungry.
whatever he expected, it wasn’t this — but he can’t find it in him to not give in.
his hand moves to the back of your head, pulling you closer, then proceeding to help you with unbuttoning his shirt, all without breaking the kiss.
mingyu shivers when your cold hands finally touch his bare chest, the faintest hint of your sharp nails nearly making him beg for you to dig them into his skin until he bleeds.
there’s a shift in control when his feet no longer feel locked in with the tiled floor, his hands trailing up your legs, fingers gripping the skin of your thighs. he lifts you up, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist, only to have him pushing you up against the door, pressing his body against yours.
you’re rubbing your front against him, taking notice of the hard bulge in his pants, nearly crying out from his sheer size.
holy shit. no wonder you were sore after you slept with him — he’s fucking huge.
“gyu,” you break the kiss, “can i suck you off?”
the way you breathily call him by his nickname for the first time is nearly enough for him to bust in his pants. “wanna taste you instead. please?”
with your back resting against the surface behind you, you watch him as he sinks to his knees, kissing the inside of your legs, goosebumps erupting on your skin.
“are you sure?”
“yeah. please let me.”
“okay. just make it quick.”
in hindsight, maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say.
because he’s diving in faster than you can comprehend, lace panties pulled down in less than a second, making you gasp in surprise. your fingers grab onto a few strands of his hair, accidentally tugging on them, only to have him moaning in response, which is most likely the best thing you’ve ever heard.
your teeth sink into your lower lip as a way to suppress your moans, only deeps hums and groans escaping you, much to mingyu’s annoyance, because he wants to hear you.
his fingers slide into your dripping wetness, your muscles tightening up from the sudden intrusion. he looks up at you while kissing the inside of your leg, a sight that’s so fucking hot that you have to tell yourself not to get lost in it.
another surge of adrenaline rushes through you when he spreads your legs even wider, causing you to let out a broken moan, much to his satisfaction.
“you can pull on my hair. i like that.” he breathes out with a genuine smile and lust-blown eyes, refusing to wait for your reaction and getting right back to what he was doing.
it doesn’t take him long before he’s got you squirming above him. tugging his hair really does get him going, but you’re nearly at your limit, feeling the familiar feeling building up in your lower belly.
“gyu—fuck, ‘s too much, too much—” you try to push his wrist away and make him look up at you again.
you swear you might lose it when you see he’s actually pouting over the fact that you’re pulling him away from something he clearly enjoys doing.
“but, baby, i wanna make you cum.”
the pet name turns you on even more. “you can. i just want you inside of me, right now.”
he’s rising to his feet, towering over you with his tall frame as you push him back against the door, kissing his jaw, neck and collarbone while undoing the buttons of his white shirt.
mingyu is surprisingly vocal, which you thoroughly enjoy. his lips find yours again, relishing in the remaining taste of you on his tongue.
“god—want me to fuck you?”
pulling your dress over your head, you’re left in your matching set of lingerie that you just so conveniently put on tonight. “are you seriously asking me that right now?”
“fine. bend over the sink, then.”
the difference in his tone and words makes you shiver with excitement. once you do as he says, a new shot of adrenaline courses through your body — because you completely forgot about the mirror that’s now right in front of you.
so you’re able to watch him push his pants down, positioning himself behind you. his big hands are warm on your skin, the silver ring on his finger making you shiver.
his shirt is half unbuttoned, his hair a mess, trousers down to his ankles — but none of that matters now that he’s got you bent over in front of him, fingers trembling in excitement as he takes the condom from his pocket to slip it on.
all he can do is hiss and groan when he feels your heat wrap around him so nicely as he pushes into you. “you’re so tight, jesus—”
you huff. “not my fault you’re so big.”
it makes him laugh and simultaneously turns him on. “you’re all bite, even when i’m trying to fuck you.”
“don’t act like you don’t like it.”
he then finally bottoms out, both of you moaning, and he chuckles. “never said i didn’t.”
god, he’s so fucking attractive. he bites his lower lip as he throws his head back, his strokes slow but hard.
his girth feels so good inside you — and his touches are electric on your skin. his hands go from your ass to your hips, your stomach, everywhere.
and he’s certainly not afraid to get loud. especially when he feels you’re pushing your hips back against his. he’s convinced this is what heaven feels like.
“gyu, a little harder, please.” you plead, slightly beginning to struggle with holding yourself up by the edge of the sink.
“how hard d’you want it?”
“as hard as you want. i can take it.”
he gestures for you to turn over, lifting you up and pushing you up against the wall, burying himself inside you again before you can even comprehend it.
his fingers feel almost painful on your thighs with the way he’s digging into your skin. he’s sucking and biting right above your collarbone, leaving some pretty marks that will definitely be visible tomorrow.
you push his jaw upward so you can kiss him, and he sighs into it, tilting his head to get better access.
it’s like he’s trying to match his thrusts with your heartbeat at this point. pressure builds in your stomach when you whine his name. “oh my god—gyu—”
“i love it when you call me that,” he breathes out, so into it that he’s confessing everything on his mind, “you don’t know how much i’ve thought about this — been fantasizing about this for ages.”
you hold onto his shoulder blades, nails digging into them. “then you better make it worth my while.”
“such a brat.” he teases, a moan slipping out right after when you use your legs wrapped around his waist to push him deeper into you.
mingyu’s stamina is admirable — but he’s a simple man. you’re so hot and you just feel so good around him, and he knows he’s getting close to his release already.
you notice his pace becoming slightly uneven, his breaths erratic, a layer of cold sweat forming on his back.
he’s doing his best to hold out for you, to make you hit your peak first, but you actually need to see him come undone first.
“are you gonna cum, gyu?”
you have to refrain from biting your lip when he’s stuttering out a response. “n—no, not yet—”
“i want you to.”
“jesus, don’t say that—”
oh, he’s cute. he’s responding so well to your words, so you indulge in it a little bit more.
“wanna fuck me again later? without a condom? you can cum inside me. i’ll let you do anything you want.” you tease — your words being the complete truth, because if he’d want to fuck you again, you’d sure as shit let him.
his brows scrunch upwards while he lets out another whine. “anything?”
“mhm,” you nod, “anything.”
his fantasies about you, the way you’re looking at him, the things you’re saying, the way you suddenly clench around him — it’s all too much. his release spills into the condom, his muscles flexing from the sudden rush of adrenaline shooting through him.
it’s enough to make your legs tremble, and you reach the climax you’ve been aching for.
he’s still coming down from his high, face buried in the crook of your neck when he hears you chuckle. “so much for being friends, huh?”
he then smiles as well. “are we close enough for you to consider me as your friend now?”
“you’re quite literally inside me.”
“knowing you, that doesn’t really have to change anything.”
“oh, is that so?” you retort at his cheekiness. “sure. you’ve made it to friend level 1. congrats.”
“great. level 2 is next, then.”
“god, forget i said anything.”
“no going back now. you’re stuck with me.”
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something’s very clearly changed between you since that night. mingyu has, in a certain way, changed your relationship.
because you’ve successfully upgraded from strangers to fuck buddies.
and truth be told, he wants to rip his fucking hair out.
the sex is great. there’s something thrilling and exciting about your secret relationship, both of you skipping lectures and sneaking away after classes with no one around you having a single clue.
and yet he’s come to the conclusion that this isn’t what he wants.
he wants you. all of you, completely. but every time he tries to get even remotely close to you, you somehow manage to dodge it and change the topic.
it bothers him. but he’s scared to just put all his feelings on a platter — because he doesn’t want to lose whatever he has with you.
something he’s also discovered is how utterly weak he is for even the slightest bit of your attention, the smallest of touches.
so when he’s typing away at his laptop in the study hall, noticing the screen of his phone light up as a message from you comes in, he can’t bring himself to ignore it.
20:23: you look cute when you’re focused
the message makes him frown, and he looks around, trying to figure out where you are, since you’ve clearly got your eyes on him.
so he texts back.
20:24: i always look cute ;)
tapping his fingers on the table, he waits for your response. the three buttons that indicate you’re typing suddenly go away, and he pouts, only to then be greeted by your voice close to his ear. “bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?”
“fuckin’—” it almost makes him jump and screech out of shock. “christ, don’t sneak up on me like that.”
you chuckle at his high-pitched reaction. “bad conscience?”
“no. you’re just scary.”
“thank you.” you grin with pride, moving to sit on the table, right beside his laptop. “you busy?”
“just going over some older lecture notes to prep for an exam.”
“wanna come over to my dorm?”
“fourth time this week. what’s gotten into you? well, aside from me, obviously.”
“hilarious. really.” you remark, watching him laugh at his own joke, unable to help the smile rising to your cheeks. “what can i say? it’s a great stress reliever.”
“i know. give me a sec and i’ll pack my things.”
as he closes up his laptop and textbooks, you look around the other tables — which are mostly empty, except for the one by the window, which is where you notice a girl shooting you a bit of a weird look once you make eye contact with her.
“mingyu.”
“hm?”
“the chick by the window with the shitty earrings. you know her?”
he subtly looks into the direction of said window, recognizing the girl from his advanced statistics class. “yeah, i have a class with her. can’t really remember her name though. why?”
“she likes you.”
“oh.” he just shrugs, continuing to zip up his bag, standing up from his seat. “i didn’t notice.”
“sure.” you chuckle sarcastically.
that makes him raise a brow. he feigns shock, causing you to look at him.
“what?”
“you’re jealous.”
“excuse me?” you monotonously ask, brows furrowing in disdain.
“it’s actually kinda hot.”
“oh, please. i have nothing to be jealous of.”
“and yet you are.”
“either you shut your ass up or i’ll find someone else to relieve my stress, kim.”
he laughs and you roll your eyes. then he slings his bag over his shoulder, his hands in his pockets as he follows you out of the study hall.
as soon as you’ve entered your dorm room, he’s got you pressed against the wall, nipping at your skin. he makes you feel sickeningly good, putting your former boyfriends to shame — you’re certainly not complaining.
once he’s done with you and you’re completely worn out, you lay with your head on his chest, his fingers softly stroking your naked back.
you seem more on edge than usual today. less playful. tired, even. his voice sounds hesitant when he speaks up. “is everything okay? you look stressed.”
“i’m fine.”
he figures you either don’t want to open up or you simply don’t feel comfortable doing so with him, so he chooses not to pry, opting to let you know he’s there for you. “okay. well, if you need anything, someone to talk to, you can always come to me.”
you frown a little. refusing to act impulsively, you swallow your words, not saying a thing.
mingyu takes your silence as his cue to leave you be. a feeling of unease creeps into his body, and the room suddenly feels smaller than before.
so he gently moves away from you, sitting up to put his clothes back on. “i should probably go. wonwoo will be pissed off if i don’t have the kitchen cleaned up once he gets back.”
he’s buttoning his jeans when you speak up behind him, admitting your reasons for feeling more stressed than usual. “i’ve got two exams next week. they’re extremely important, i have to pass them, i just… i can’t focus for some reason.”
when he turns around, you’re not facing him. he leans against the tabletop, looking at you. “anything in particular that’s bothering you?”
“i don’t know. it’s just…” you shrug your shoulders a little, unsure of how to explain it, “i guess i haven’t been feeling great in my own skin lately, even though i don’t actually have a reason for it.”
“maybe i can help you study. could work as a nice motivator.”
“gyu—” you chuckle a little to reject him politely, but he sees it coming at this point, persisting.
“why don’t we just try it? if you don’t feel like doing it again, then, fine. we can always just restrict our activities to solely physical stuff again.”
“do you even have the time to help me?”
he’s smiling, able to tell you’re thinking about it. “are you kidding? i can do anything.”
“always so humble.”
“yeah, that’s why you like me so much.” he laughs. “that’s why i’m your friend.”
“whatever makes you sleep at night.”
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mingyu wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted to help you, nor when he mentioned he wanted you two to be closer.
he’s putting in effort to make you like him, that’s for sure. buying you coffees and snacks, offering to study with you whenever you mention difficult topics you have to cram for exams — he’s certainly establishing his presence in your daily life.
and you hate how easily you get used to it.
for whatever reason, you haven’t had sex since that day either. you’re pretty sure he wants to prove that he likes you for you and not just your body.
which is sweet. but you also have needs, and they’re worse now, knowing he can fulfill them extremely well, as he’s proved many times at this point.
so you text him to ask if he wants to come over later.
as he’s seated at a picnic table on the campus square, he notices your text, grabbing his phone to respond to you.
“your girlfriend texting you again?”
mingyu looks up at joshua, who’s sitting across from him with a pen in hand. he shakes his head. “not my girlfriend.”
“she might as well be.”
“she doesn’t like me enough to be.”
shua wouldn’t call himself nosy, but he’s determined to get a better idea of what exactly is going on between you. “what’s up with you and her?”
“it’s complicated.” his friend responds, eyes narrowing from the rays of sunlight. “i’m not even sure, honestly.”
joshua has this ability to pry people’s hearts open and let their feelings pour out without breaking a sweat — how easily he does it should be studied.
“are you friends with benefits or something? situationship?”
ironically, those words are the complete opposite of what you and him are. mingyu huffs out of frustration, voicing his thoughts. “she doesn’t like it when i call her my friend, she appears to have an exceedingly low daily quota of emotions, i’m busting my ass off to get my own assignments done and spend as much time with her as i can and i’m pretty sure she doesn’t even like me. at all. worst part being that i like her, shua. i like her.”
“have you told her you like her?”
“sort of. in a friendly way. she just glared at me.”
joshua finds mingyu’s inner torment a little amusing, but he feels for him. “maybe she’ll warm up to you. give it a while, she’s a tough nut to crack.”
“is she open with you?”
“sort of. i don’t think there’s a single soul out there she’s completely open with.” he sucks on the inside of his cheek for a second. “she has mentioned in the past that she’s actually very sensitive but just doesn’t, like, really express it. and you gotta keep in mind that people show love and affection differently. give it time.”
mingyu takes a breath as he thinks over the words.
give it time.
which he does. he notices you’re gradually getting closer to him over the course of time, still not showing too much — but it feels different. you choose to sit with him more often than not when you meet up with the other guys, you’re spending a lot of time with him, and you’re showing initiative to make time for him. every time he lands in your bed, it feels more intimate than ever.
you’re starting to make him feel like he matters to you. his crush on you is getting out of hand to the point he needs to stop himself from gazing at you every time you look him in the eye.
just like right now. you’re smiling at him over something he can’t remember — it’s a genuine smile, he cherishes those every time you flash him one as they’re rare — and you just look so pretty.
a text message from one of the guys on the football team pulls him out of it. which sparks an idea in him.
“hey, i have a football game coming up this saturday. do you wanna come? you could finally see me in action.” he asks. when he notices the puzzled look on your face, he tilts his head. “oh, come on. friendship works both ways, you know that, right? team effort and all that jazz.”
his wording makes you chuckle. “fine. i’ll be there.”
“you won’t regret it. our team is great.”
“really? then you better prove it. can’t be cheering for the losing team.”
with a raised brow, he points at you. “wanna bet?”
“what do you have in mind?”
he considers his options for a moment. “if my team wins, i get to choose what we do in bed next time. as long as you’re into it too, obviously. if the opposite team wins, you get to choose.”
now that’s an offer you’re certainly not gonna reject. taking on the challenge, you nod. “alright. deal.”
he shakes your hand ever so professionally, gathering his books since he needs to get to class. “oh, and, just so you know — my team’s won regional championships for the past two years in a row. i’m just saying.”
you tilt your head. he winks at you before walking away from the table, and you smile to yourself.
damn that asshole for making you like him this much.
saturday arrives, and you find yourself walking by the green football fields, surprised by the amount of people who showed up.
mingyu mentioned he was heading here earlier so you just told him you’d be there, sitting with the crowd.
it seems like it’s going to be a cold-weather match today. it’s already dark out, and the rain just started coming down from the sky. you’re glad the bleachers come with shade canopies so at least you won’t be soaked by the time the game is over.
your eyes are fixed on mingyu’s back as he stands by the sidelines with the rest of his team, enthusiastically discussing what’s most likely gonna be their strategy for the game.
then he turns around, still very engaged in the conversation, the wet strands of his hair framing his facial features. gosh, he’s incredibly handsome.
before running out onto the field, he looks back at the bleachers, scanning the masses before his eyes lock with yours.
he ever so dramatically makes a little heart with his fingers, teasingly motioning it towards you, and you put your middle finger up, making him laugh.
mingyu’s a real sweetheart, you have to admit. he’s growing on you.
watching the game is more fun than you anticipated. despite not being into football all that much, it’s great to watch the boys work together as well as they do.
you’re certainly not complaining when mingyu throws his vest on the bench halfway through the match, leaving him in a black compression shirt, emphasizing his strong figure.
shit. maybe you should watch him play more often.
it’s his team that seems to be on the winning side tonight — until the opposing team scores ten minutes before the end. both teams have the same score now, which is bad. ending with a draw would suck.
you’re now completely sucked into the game like the rest of the audience, desperate for mingyu’s team to score another goal.
the universe must be on their side today, because they do. three minutes left on the clock and none other than jeon wonwoo himself is able to kick the ball into the net, escaping the hands of the keeper.
it’s all yells of happiness on the field.
the referee blows his whistle to call the end of the game. everyone at your side of the bleachers stands up from their seats, yourself included, to cheer and clap for the boys, happy that they won the game.
you watch them congratulate eachother, some of their friends walking onto the field to do the same.
following the masses, you also leave your seat in the bleachers, walking down the stairs.
mingyu notices you coming his way and runs over to you, surprising you by lifting you up, giving you arguably the best hug you’ve ever had in your whole damn life. he holds onto you so tightly, his big arms and tall frame caging you in — in the best way possible.
when he gently puts you back down, his one hand briefly finds your cheek, which catches you off guard, but you don’t shy away from it.
he’s so tempted to just say fuck it and kiss you right now. you look so pretty, and your eyes — your eyes. he could stare into them forever and love every second of it.
but there’s too much at stake to get impulsive. “thanks for coming.”
“you’re welcome.” you blankly respond, making him smile a little.
“how did i do? good enough for your standards?”
you shrug at him, taking a brief look at his teammates celebrating in the distance behind him. “i was mostly focused on wonwoo, actually, but you were doing a good job too.”
he rolls his eyes before making a sarcastic comment. “you’re hilarious.”
“something i’m very aware of.”
he fake smiles at you, and you reciprocate the gesture, patting him on the shoulder.
“wanna go catch a drink with me?”
“don’t you wanna celebrate with the rest of the team?”
“not tonight.” he shakes his head. “i just gotta go get my bag. come with me?”
he intertwines his fingers with yours and you hardly notice it. which is bizarre if you consider how you had no relationship with him to begin with several months ago. “okay, yeah.”
you head to the men’s locker room with him, which is dark and empty. all the other guys are still out on the field, as you noticed when you were walking over here.
“the lights haven’t been working since yesterday, so watch your step.” mingyu tells you. the rays of moonlight coming through the high windows are enough to at least light up the room enough for you to see where you’re going.
you suddenly get an idea. “do you think the guys are gonna be out there for long?”
“they usually do. ten minutes, give or take.” he answers absentmindedly while taking his black duffel bag out of the locker with his name on it.
once he turns around, you push him back against the locker, taking him by the surprise, your finger pulling at the elastic waistband of his pants and boxers.
“i give credit where it’s due, you know.”
oh. oh. he only then understands what you’re getting at.
you always manage to make him a little nervous somehow — he lives for it. “in public? here? we could go back to your—oh, shit—”
you make him stutter the moment your hand moves underneath his clothes to take a hold of his dick. “but you’re already hard, gyu.”
christ. you’ve got some nerve, putting up that soft and sweet voice as if you’re not fucking responsible for getting him hard in the first place.
he doesn’t protest when you sink to your knees in front of him, pulling his boxers down his thick thighs, his cock springing free.
you grin a little to yourself before taking him in your mouth. he’s so hot like this, all hard and panting and begging.
“h—holy shit, that feels good.” he gasps, the warm sensation of your mouth making him go dizzy.
his hand moves to the back of your head. you take him as much as you can, using your hands for the part you can’t take. he slowly becomes a mess, his head resting against the locker.
you look up at him when he’s shamelessly moaning at the feeling of your tongue swirling around him, his hands subconsciously pushing your head just a little bit forward, making you take just that little bit more of his cock.
arousal begins to pool between your legs, and you suddenly curse yourself for choosing to wear jeans instead of a skirt tonight.
“fuck, fuck, baby—”
you release him with a pop, a mix of spit and his arousal coating your lips. “wanna taste everything. can’t make a mess here.”
it’s such a shame he’s still wearing his clothes. his stomach caves in so nicely whenever you’re sucking him off — like he can’t catch his breath. it’s the best thing you’ve ever seen.
his legs are trembling, and he’s embarrasingly close to his release already. “you don’t—ah—have to do this here if you don’t want to—”
“‘m not leaving ‘til you cum down my throat, gyu. you can do that, though, right?”
he nods, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, his voice all soft and submissive. he can’t help it. “yeah, yeah, i’ll do whatever you want, baby.”
“good boy.” you tell him, entirely unaware of the effect it has on him.
the moment you hollow your cheeks, it’s over for him. the salty taste of his release sits in your mouth before you swallow it, and his chest heaves while he pulls himself together.
both your eyes widen when you suddenly hear the voices outside getting closer, and mingyu knows it’s time to get the fuck out of here. he quickly pulls his pants back up, his bag in his one hand and your hand in the other as he drags you with him to take the back exit before anyone can notice either of you.
you both take a breather outside as you lean against the wall of the building before you burst into laughter together. he feels on top of fucking cloud nine, if he’s being truthful.
“you’re insane.” he laughs, looking to the side to find you laughing and blushing at the same time. “you’re blushing? after doing that? wow. who are you and what have you done with my friend?”
“you’re getting special treatment, you know. i don’t suck off my other friends.” you tease, shrugging your shoulders.
maybe he should consider pursuing a theatre career with the way he dramatically puts his hand over his heart. “does this mean i made it to friend level 2?”
“you did. now you’ve been downgraded back to level 1, though. what’re you gonna do about it?”
he plays along with you. “well, shit. can’t have that. we can go get a burger with fries at that place near campus. my treat?”
“sounds good.” the words have left your mouth and that big smile is right on his face again. you playfully push his shoulder, cheeks hurting from the smile on yours.
he’s getting closer to you than you anticipated, and that’s not a good thing, but for now, you tell yourself it’ll be fine. how much closer could he possibly get?
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another month passes by when, for the first time in a while, mingyu doesn’t drop by your dorm. he doesn’t text, doesn’t call — and you find yourself worried about him.
it’s been nothing but complete radio silence from his end, which isn’t a good sign.
you’ve already left him several voicemails when chan lets you know he’s been having a terrible fever for the past two days. it leaves you with the urge to go and check up on him, so once you’ve had all your classes for the day, you find yourself knocking on his door.
it takes a moment for him to answer it, wonwoo seemingly not present in the dorm.
when mingyu opens the door, surprise is painted across his face, the heavy bags under his eyes making him seem awfully tired. shit, you hope you didn’t wake him. he’s wearing a plain white shirt with thin black pyjama pants, his hair an utter mess.
the surprise on his face is gone once you open your mouth. “you look like shit.”
he snorts at your words. “would you say that to me if i were on my deathbed, too?”
“absolutely.”
he smiles at your attitude, finding it strangely refreshing. “wanna come in? i promise i’ll stay at a distance so you won’t get it.”
you didn’t think he was going to invite you in, but you accept the offer nonetheless. “i was wondering why you didn’t call. then chan told me you were sick.”
he shuts the door behind you. “yeah, i’ve been sleeping, mostly. watched some netflix too but it quickly gives headaches. i’m sorry for not letting you know — didn’t think you were worried.”
you pause for a moment. “well. you thought wrong. friends worry, don’t they?”
the words make him smile. he didn’t think you cared all that much about him for some reason — this changes that. “fair. what’s in the bowl?”
he’s referring to the black bowl covered in foil you have clutched between your arms. you shrug. “soup. i don’t know if you already had some, but it worked wonders for me when i was sick a while back, so… yeah. i figured you could use it.”
his face lights up when he realizes you went out your way to make this for him. with gratitude, he accepts the bowl. “thank you, i appreciate it. looks really good. you can sit by my desk if you want to, by the way.”
as he’s walking across the room, you notice the mishap in his steps, like he’s about to lose his balance. “are you okay?”
“yeah, ‘s just—i’m a little dizzy.”
your hands find his shoulders — a touch that feels heavy compared to the usual skin-to-skin contact you share with him — to put him down on his bed. “don’t force it. if you’re about to faint, you might as well be lying down.”
his lids hang low, eyes nearly closed when you pull the covers over his body. you touch his cheeks and forehead with the back of your hand to get an indication of his temperature.
as soon as you’re about to tell him he probably has a light fever, it seems he’s already half asleep. you pull the covers up to his chest to ensure he’s comfortable.
you gaze at him for a moment as he snores softly, biting your lip as you curse yourself for giving him a treatment he doesn’t deserve.
maybe mingyu likes to think he doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, but that’s far from the truth. even you have noticed he’s been looking at you a certain way recently, and that’s saying something.
one look at him and you’re already feeling like a big softie. it’s ridiculous.
you’re scared of what you feel for him, but as long as you can keep your relationship like this, it’ll be fine.
now that he’s asleep, you wander around his room. you know wonwoo must be at football practice, since mingyu is normally there with him at this time of the week.
you usually take him to your dorm, so you’re not in his all that often. your eyes rake across the framed pictures of his friends, family, loved ones, memories he’s made.
they stop, though, when recognizing yourself in one of the pictures. he promised you he’d frame one up as a way of ‘solidifying your friendship’ as he so politely put it.
still, you didn’t think he’d actually do it.
smiling to yourself, you proceed to notice his laptop screen is still on. he must’ve been working on something when you knocked on his door.
out of curiosity, you check the screen, figuring he was working on the essay he’s been postponing for two weeks because he had difficulty getting started.
you take a look at the assignment and decide you’re gonna try to do it for him. luckily, the necessary paragraphs that ought to be studied beforehand and referenced in the essay itself came with the mail, so that makes everything a lot easier.
when mingyu wakes up hours later, he finds himself alone in his room. you’re gone, though he notices the glass of water on his nightstand has been refilled, his laptop is flipped open, and there’s a sticky note attached to it.
slowly, he rubs his eyes and moves toward the desk to grab the laptop before sitting back against the pillows.
you must’ve written something on the note, he figures.
‘hopefully the essay is up to the standards of your class. i did it in a separate document so you can just get rid of the whole thing if it’s not what you want it to be. let me know if you need anything else. x’
he frowns, turning the device on to see what you worked on — and the screen lights up, only for him to realize you wrote the essay due for tomorrow. and with a few of his own additions here and there, it’s good enough to submit, which is impressive for someone who’s not actually taking the class.
and right now, all he can do is smile at his screen like an idiot.
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you’re at the university skating rink when you hear someone calling your name from the bleachers.
looking up with a frown, you suddenly notice a tall man sprinting your way, so you skate towards him. “mingyu, what the hell are you doing here?”
“i got 87/100 for the essay. for the one class i always hate. you’re a genius.” he exclaims, absolutely beaming at you.
you suddenly remember doing the essay for him, snorting at his reaction. “so i’ve heard. good to see you’re doing better.”
“is there anything i can do in return?”
“don’t worry. i like writing essays. besides, you already helped me out plenty of times. it was the least i could do.”
the words coming out of your mouth hardly match your facial expression, but he finds he’s gotten used to it now. he understands you better than ever before. “you know how you said i’d get nothing out of a friendship with you?” he recalls, biting his lip for a moment, “you were wrong.”
a mere chuckle escapes you. “right. you get top-notch essays and bowls of chicken soup.”
your comment was sarcastic, but he remains serious. “you’re wonderful, you know that?”
it’s not often people use a word like that to describe you. it feels weird hearing it, but your attitude remains the same. “am i?”
“yeah, you are,” he nods, pushing out more compliments, “and i’m glad to have you in my life.”
the playful expression on your face falters — like a glitch occurring in your system. mingyu is starting to break through your hard exterior remarkably easily, and that’s beginning to scare you a little.
he leaves without saying another word, but the look on his face is enough to tell that he’s feeling the tension too. whatever relationship you have is becoming more intimate by day, most definitely passing the friendship it was supposed to be, and to you, that is very alarming.
and you suddenly refuse to let it go any further.
whenever he texts you, you either tell him you don’t have the time to come over or nothing at all. you avoid him like the plague, ensure not to go to social gatherings if he’s going be there and stay well away from all the places you and him studied together. it hurts, because you do miss him, yet you manage to keep it up.
but you can only do so much. unfortunately, mingyu is smarter than you hoped.
after two weeks of you avoiding him, he decides he’s had enough.
when you’re almost about to leave the dorm for your lecture, you hear someone knocking on your door. you open it to find him standing there, and he walks right by you, not bothering to ask whether he can come in.
“why have you been avoiding me?”
“i gotta leave for my lecture, i don’t have time for this.”
“so make the time.” he says sternly, jaw clenched. “answer the question.”
“i haven’t been avoiding you.”
“sure. so it’s a coincidence you suddenly stopped talking to me?”
you huff in frustration and close the door, leaning with your back against it. “no, it isn’t.”
he raises his hands in defeat. “so, why?”
“it’s been fun. i don’t know. but you’ve proved what you wanted to prove, so… good for you. we can both move on now.” you shrug, hardly sounding convinced of your own words.
“you’re lying.” he breathes out, scoffing to himself. he’s baffled that you think he’d consider it believable at all. “four months ago, i would’ve bought that. but not now.”
“believe what you wanna believe. i don’t really care.” you give him the cold shoulder, attempting to open the door so you can leave, but he immediately shuts it to stop you from doing so.
“don’t bullshit me. you care. i don’t know why the fuck you’re so hellbent on not admitting that, but it’s the truth.”
he’s beginning to get on your nerves. “what fucking answers are you even here for? since you claim to know everything that’s going on inside my head already.”
it’s then that he starts to show how genuinely upset he is at you pushing him away. “what makes me so different from the other guys? joshua, seokmin, chan—all of them. why is it so easy for you to be close with them but not with me?”
“because you keep trying to get closer to me! from day one, you’ve been saying you wanna be friends with me like the rest of them, but your actions don’t line up with that.”
“so what? i like you and i’m pretty damn sure you like me too.” his voice is softer, face closer to yours, those brown eyes of his working their way straight to your heart. “what are you so afraid of?”
either you’re imagining things or he’s leaning in to kiss you. his lips are so close before you feel them on yours, a sensation you missed like nothing else.
your fingers touch the back of his neck. it’s hard not to get lost in the feeling of his mouth on yours, the smell of his cologne making it even harder.
kissing mingyu is the closest you’ll ever get to heaven, but right now, all it’s making you feel is guilt and shame.
so you pull yourself away from him, breaking the kiss, hands feeling heavy on his chest. “close the door on your way out.” you whisper, leaving him alone in your dorm.
he stands perplexed in his place for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose, processing what just happened.
“fuck.”
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it’s been a week, and he hasn’t called nor texted you since that conversation. you assume that he’s decided to move on.
which is understandable. if you were him, you’d be done with it too.
it feels strange to be going about your day without him dropping by or talking to you. like he left a void you’re unable to fill. and it hurts — you miss him.
you’re having lunch with seokmin and minghao in the cafeteria when he’s suddenly standing in front of you by the table. “i just got a call from the gallery manager — we’ve got it to ourselves this friday evening!”
minghao smiles widely, the sweet sound of his excited laughter intriguing the rest of you. he turns his head to explain. “me and mingyu have been trying to rent the gallery so we could finally be able to put our work on display. apparently, it was just confirmed we managed to pull it off.”
hao is a passionate painter — mingyu a photographer. their love for art is one of the things that binds them together, and they’ve mentioned wanting to have their own exhibit for a few months now. despite the things that have happened, you’re happy for them.
“that’s great! we can come, right?” seokmin asks, already grabbing his phone to put it in his agenda.
“yeah, you guys better.” minghao answers, his gaze shifting to you. “you have to come too. you’re free, right?”
he’s aware of things between you and mingyu being tense right now — though he doesn’t know why — but he still thinks it’d be good for you and him to see each other.
your eyes meet mingyu’s for the first time since your last conversation a week ago, and hao follows your actions, looking at him as well.
mingyu subtly looks away, hoping his friend didn't catch him staring at you. before he can utter the words he wants to say, you tilt your head, already speaking up. “sure. i'll be there.”
he unintentionally gives you a puzzled look, and you pop a piece of gum in your mouth, looking at your wrist as if there’s a watch there.
there isn’t. “won’t you look at the time. i’ll see you guys later.”
they briefly say bye to you, very much used to the way you dismiss yourself, and mingyu watches the interaction as if it’s the first time witnessing it — as if he hasn’t known you to be like this for several months.
he watches you walk out of the cafeteria, confronted by his two friends staring at him. “what?”
“you’re deep in it.” minghao remarks. “when are you guys finally gonna admit that you wanna be together?”
“it’s not that easy.”
seokmin frowns, connecting the dots before gasping. “wait. you and her are a thing? since when? why didn’t anyone tell me this?”
the other two just deadpan a stare at him.
on friday night, you attend the art exhibit. you know he’s been working hard on the collection, and you certainly figured you were gonna be confronted with mingyu as well, but this is one gathering you couldn’t afford to miss. so you choose to try and forget the drama for one night.
you’re wearing a little black dress with lacy tights and sleek ankle boots, an outfit you feel nice in.
the gallery is buzzing with friends of the artists as well as people who frequent the place whenever a new exhibit is up. perhaps some pieces will be sold tonight.
as you’re passing some of mingyu’s framed photos, you hear his familiar voice behind you.
“i was surprised when you agreed to come.”
when you turn your head, he’s standing there with his hands in the pockets of his fitted black pants, the deep cut of his white blouse exposing just a bit more of his upper chest than usual, a silver chain sitting all pretty on his neck and collarbones.
personally, you find it’s relatively rare to find men with good taste in fashion, but he’s definitely got it. he looks good. really good.
biting your lip, you give him nothing but a cool response. “came to see if you were any good.”
“and? what’s your judgement?”
“haven’t made up my mind yet.” your tone turns into a more teasing one, seeing as he appears considerably less hostile than you. “does my judgement really matter that much, though?”
he nods so quickly, almost as if he were hypnotized by you. “more than you know.”
him showing you affection actually makes your heart shatter. he’s so genuine in it too — and you just don’t know what to do with all that love he so easily gives you.
people pass you left and right, completely unaware of the heavy feeling currently bubbling inside your chest. you’re crumbling under his gaze and he fucking feels it.
and this situation is precisely the one thing you were so afraid of. you know he knows how to poke into your heart, he knows when you’re lying to him, he knows when you’re upset or hurt — and the idea that there’s someone out there who can see all of that just by looking at you utterly terrifies you.
in moments like these, your expression doesn’t gradually change. it falls hard and quick, sometimes very visibly, just like right now. the blank stare is gone, your lips parting, eyes blinking erratically — it’s like you received a slap to the face.
“your photography is beautiful, mingyu. you’re talented, but you didn’t need me to tell you that.” your voice breaks in the middle of your sentence and you leave him behind, heading into the ladies’ room, hoping he won’t follow you.
you exhale when he doesn’t.
knowing it’s way too early to leave, you pull yourself together, and once you get out of the bathroom, you make it your mission to avoid him for the rest of the night. if that means talking to god knows how many new people, so be it.
minghao’s paintings are beautiful. you’re in awe of his talent as you walk past his artworks, admiring each of them.
as the evening nears its end, the artist himself comes up to you with that gentle smile he often wears. “so, what do you think? do i have potential?”
“are you kidding? you’ve got more than just potential. these are gorgeous. you should be proud of them.”
he thanks you, his hands sitting in the pockets of his trousers. “what’d you do to mingyu?”
you cross your arms over your chest. “why’re you assuming i did something?”
“because he’s been looking like a kicked puppy for the past few weeks. and i heard you and him suddenly stopped hanging out, so...”
taking a deep breath, you shake your head to yourself. “honestly, i’m not even sure what happened between us. it came out of nowhere.”
minghao keeps his eyes on you even when you look away. “he came out of nowhere and you started liking him.”
the comment makes your eyes widen, but you don’t bother hiding the truth from him. he might be the most trustworthy guy you know. “yeah. so i pushed him away.”
he’s aware of your fear of letting people in beyond a certain extent. “what did he do?”
you could cry, honestly. your face is blank — your voice trembles. “he said he was happy to have me in his life. god, i’m so fucking insecure.”
hao softly rubs over your shoulder blade for a second, a gesture you appreciate. he shrugs. “you’re not obligated to do something you don’t wanna do. but talking about it is better than leaving it unsaid. gyu’s a good guy. he’ll understand it, but only if you give him the chance to.”
with that sentiment, he leaves you be, and you rub your arms, staring at the painting that’s currently in front of you, only to realize it’s about two lovers.
there’s a thin line between laughing and crying. you feel like you’re somewhere in the middle right now.
“christ, i need a fucking drink.” you mutter to yourself, running a hand through your hair.
“mind if i join you?”
of course. why are you even surprised?
without looking him in the eye, you respond to his question with one of your own. “sure you want my company?”
“beats going drinking alone.” mingyu shrugs next to you.
you let out a sarcastic chuckle at that. “whatever you say.”
luckily for you, the nearest bar is around the block. the walk there is quiet. you’re not sure what to say to him, and you feel him subtly looking your way.
he holds the door open for you to go in first. the place is not all that crowded yet, only a few tables occupied, probably because it’s still relatively early in the evening.
since no one else is seated by the bar top, you choose to head to one of the high stools there, ordering two shots of vodka before even sitting down.
the bartender puts two shot glasses in front of you and pours the liquid in both until they’re completely filled. mingyu looks at you as he picks up the small glass, and you just lightly tilt your head as a toast.
his facial expression is as bitter as the alcohol burning in his throat. he hates the way you look at him — like you don’t give a fuck about him.
you look down at your glass. you still haven’t exchanged a single word since leaving the gallery. what the hell are you even supposed to say? you didn’t want to be here with him in the first place.
liar. the little voice in your head creeps in.
the silence feels as painful as trailing your nails down a chalkboard. surprisingly, it’s you who ends up speaking first.
“if you’re trying to make the situation more awkward, you’re succeeding.”
“i’m just trying to find the words. don’t know where to start.”
your voice is hostile and sharp as a blade. “then don’t.”
of course you’re aware you’re being mean. but it’s to serve a purpose. every time you show this side of you, people always leave. better sooner than later, right?
mingyu, instead of feeling insulted by your attitude, looks at you as if he’s deciphering a puzzle. “i will. because i care.”
that makes you remain quiet. you just scoff instead, not knowing what to say next. he shifts in his seat to be able to look at him better — you do the exact opposite, turning your face away from him.
“can i ask you something?”
you don’t actually respond, save for the blank stare you give him. which he takes as a yes.
“you not showing much… is it a front you put up or something you just do?”
an interesting question — one you actually have to think about. “the latter. having a resting bitch face doesn’t really help my case, i guess. but i also enjoy keeping people in the dark a bit. can’t have everyone showing everything.”
“why not?”
blinking at him for a moment, you gently smile at him. it’s not a genuine one. “do you wanna know why you feel at a disadvantage right now?”
“because your alcohol tolerance is better than mine?”
“because you can’t tell what i’m thinking.”
he then puts his chin up to look at you better. you tilt your head a little, as if you were following his gaze, and he feels like he’s on the right track here.
“maybe i kinda like that disadvantage.” he suggests, but you shake your head knowingly.
“no, you don’t.”
“how would you know?”
you suck at the inside of your cheek for a moment, taking a breath. “my mom once said to me that it bothered her she couldn’t tell what i was thinking.” you pout your lips as if you’re thinking about it. “i told her i liked that. being an open book is my worst nightmare.”
“why?”
“putting your thoughts and feelings on display make you vulnerable. being vulnerable makes you weak.”
“so you think it’s better to isolate your feelings completely — discuss them with no one? ever?”
“unless it’s necessary, yes. besides, feelings aren’t black and white. do you know how difficult it is to convey them through words, let alone getting the person at the other end of the line to actually understand them?”
mingyu looks—no, gazes at you. “how will you know if you don’t try?”
“how do you know i haven’t? you think you’re the first person who’s tried to get close to me like this?” you ask, tilting your head. “speaking of which, i’ve been having a real hard time trying to figure out what it is you want from me. i’m not buying the whole ‘i-just-wanna-be-friends’ façade. never did. i thought it was the sex, but i initiated it more often than you did.”
“it wasn’t for the sex.” he shrugs his shoulders. “i like you.”
“so you’ve mentioned. since when?”
“since… always.”
“we never even talked before soonyoung’s party.”
“no, but i liked you.”
“bullshit.” you fire back at him, scoffing sarcastically. “i’m hardly likeable — nothing i’m insecure about. just a plain fact.”
“and yet i like you a lot. must be shocking.” he jests, the vaguest hint of a rising smirk on his face. “do you like me?”
“i can’t stand you,” you reach out to push his chin upwards so he looks up at you, only realizing how physically comfortable you’ve become with him after doing so, “but at least you’ve got a pretty face to make up for it.”
it’s unbelievable, mingyu thinks to himself. the way you keep teasing him, keep being a little mean to him, and he just eats it all up.
every moment he spends with you has him wondering what on earth it is about you that draws him in so much.
but, fuck, he just can’t get enough.
another shot is poured into your glasses, which you take between your thumb and index finger, nodding at him so he’ll take his.
the liquid burns in his throat, making him feel hot, and you get awfully turned on when you notice the way he wipes off the drops that accidentally ran down his chin.
“i think i’ve got you all figured out.”
his bold statement and matching attitude has you raising your shoulders. “oh yeah? go on. try me, i’m curious.”
the words tumble from his lips as if they’re part of a monologue he’s been rehearsing for weeks. “you feel so much, express so little. i bet it must be hard to keep up with your own mind sometimes. i think you often feel judged and misunderstood because of your attitude, but you don’t mind that much, since you prefer a smaller circle anyways. you simply don’t like wearing your heart on your sleeve, but it’d be a big mistake to think you don’t have one — and honestly, i’d do anything to be close to it.”
it’s not often you’re speechless.
he describes you almost perfectly, and your body language subconsciously changes, confident and playful demeanor gone — the cold and distant side of your personality coming out again.
“good job,” you tell him softly, moving to grab a few bucks from your wallet to pay for the drinks, “i guess i should say congratulations. you know what makes me tick. that means we’re done here, right?”
he finally spots the shift in your behavior. “wait—”
“have a good night, gyu.”
you curse yourself for accidentally using the nickname as you walk out of the bar, putting your coat on, feeling raindrops on your hair and skin once you get outside.
as you’re trying to make yourself remember where the nearest metro stop is, you hear him utter your name behind you. “what did i do? was it something i said?”
letting impulsivity get to you for once, you scoff, muttering a response. “it was everything you said.”
“why?” he asks, the tension running thicker. “why won’t you just let me in, for once? just this time?”
you hate how desperate he sounds — you hate how much it’s tugging at your heartstrings.
“why do you even want me to?”
“‘cause i like you.”
“no, you don’t. you just like whatever chase this is, just a little fun to keep things interesting for you.”
“has it ever crossed your mind that maybe i like you for you?”
“i’ve given you no reason to like me.”
“what, you think that no one out there will like you unless you act differently?”
his words feel like a growing tear in your heart. your self-esteem is so ridiculously low that it makes you believe no one would love you if you were to be unapologetically yourself — and hearing someone say it out loud hurts.
mingyu watches as the emotion flashes through your eyes, one of the few glimpses of what you feel underneath that cold exterior.
“it’s not true,” he says before you attempt to answer, “because you… being around you makes me happy. when i’m not with you, i think of when i’ll see you next. you matter to me.”
you’re not sure what’s worse — the fact that you reciprocate his feelings or the words that are coming out of your mouth.
“you’d do best to try and get rid of that feeling.”
but he knows there’s more lingering behind your words. “tell me you don’t feel the same way.”
“what i feel means nothing.” you state, voice laced with hurt, though not from his words. “let it go.”
“why don’t you wanna try?”
“because it’d be a disaster. for both of us.”
“c’mon,” he pleads, gently touching your fingers, “please don’t push me away.”
“god—i have my reasons, mingyu.”
“then explain them to me!”
“i can’t give you what you want!” you cry out, needing him to understand you. “someone like you just doesn’t work with someone like me. it might sound stupid, but it’s the truth. i wouldn’t tell you i love you, i’m fucking—bitter and cynical, if not misanthropic, i like my own peace and quiet, i fucking hate talking about what i feel — and you are the complete opposite. i’d make you miserable. you’d grow to hate me.”
“no, i wouldn’t.”
“you would. you... i do like you. i don’t know what the hell you did, like—it’s bizarre how much i’ve grown to like you. but at the end of the day, we’d never work, because i cannot give you the love that you deserve. i know you. you want someone spontaneous, easygoing, sociable — those are all traits that i don’t have. i wish i did, but that’s just how i’m engineered. we wouldn’t work.”
“how do you even know that?”
“i’ve had two boyfriends before this. both broke things off with me ‘cause i didn't show love the way they were used to, and even when they called it quits, i didn’t show a thing. because i don’t do that. no matter how often i say it, no one ever appears to understand what they’re getting themselves into when they get close to me, so i’m telling you now. this? you and me?” you ask, finger pointing between the two of you. “we’d be idiots to try.”
“fine. then consider me an idiot.” he breathes out, just barely registering how close he’s standing to you. “i’m willing to try. please.”
the crease between your brows is the sign of your inner conflict. “i’m sick of getting hurt. sick of people making me feel like my feelings aren’t valid solely because i don’t like expressing them.”
“i’m not gonna hurt you. we can take things slow.”
“gyu—” you plead, almost like you’re begging him to stop tearing your walls down despite knowing he won’t.
and perhaps the other part of you does want to let him in. it’s so scary, so tempting.
“i don’t wanna lose you.”
he adores you so much — it’s ridiculous. “you won’t lose me. please…” he touches your fingers so gently, getting closer to you as you barely make an effort to push him away, “please let me in.”
his heartbeat rises when you look him in the eye — he wonders how the hell a person so strong can look so afraid. but he’s determined to show that you have no reason to be anymore.
it’s raining even harder now. instead of backing you up against the wall, he takes a few steps away from you as if he’s leaving, only for him to turn around and gesture for you to come with him.
mingyu’s smile shines even in the heavy downpour — a bright light that balances out your dull one.
he extends his hand, and you finally get over the edge of your fear, finally able to take control of your own body and slide your hand in his.
you and kim mingyu shouldn’t work — perhaps that’s exactly the reason why you do.
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thank you for reading. let me know if you enjoyed it x
® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.
1K notes · View notes
viennakarma · 5 months
Text
Drunk calls
Fernando Alonso x Reader
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Summary: You're drunk on your night out and accidentally call your boss, Fernando.
Word count: 1.5k
Tags: Female reader, drunk reader, fluff, Nando comforting reader, boss x employee relationship, not beta read
Relationships: Fernando Alonso x Reader
Notes: Anon requested drunk reader and sober nano, so i just ran with it and wrote a little something while on hangover from the new year party. (Also that ONE pic George Russell posted of him and Nando!!!!)
Hope you enjoy it, Anon!
Find me on Twitter!
As you left the toilet, you felt your legs wobbly as you supported yourself on the wall. You had been clubbing with your friends for a couple of hours now, but a few minutes ago you couldn’t find them, and you looked all around.
Pulling your phone from your purse, you called your bestie to try and find out where she was. As soon as she picked up, you started talking.
“Hi, Hanna! Where are-” You hiccuped, “where are you? I think I’m too drunk now, I can’t find you or the girls, and my head is pounding already, and I can’t walk straight.”
“Y/N?” A male voice asked.
“Who the fuck are you?” You frowned.
“It’s Fernando, you just called me,” he said and you turned your phone seeing that you had actually called him instead of your friend.
“Oh, shit! I’m so sorry, boss!” You said and immediately hung up.
Fuck, you drunk called your boss on your day off. That was most certainly grounds for a reprimand. You had been working as his assistant for almost a year now, and had only been super professional and dedicated to doing your work. You and Fernando had been friendly and settled into a great work dynamic. So accidentally calling him like this would probably cause problems for you.
You didn’t even have time or energy to blame yourself too long as your phone buzzed with an incoming call from Fernando. You immediately hit decline. But barely a second later he called you again. Shit, he probably would tear you a new one. You hit decline again. You started sweating, god, you needed to go home, you needed to eat and you needed to plan a big apology for the next time you see your boss again.
Then two texts appeared coming from Fernando.
“Where are you?” “Pick up the call”
And then he called you again, and you picked it up this time preparing for him to go off on you.
“Where are you?” He breathed loudly.
“I’m at a club with my friends,” you stuttered a little bit, both because of the alcohol and because you were worried he might fire you on the spot.
“You said you lost them. Have you found your friends?”
“No, not really. But it’s okay, I’m gonna go home already!” You hoped you were sounding a little bit more confident.
“How?”
“What?”
“How are you going to go home?” He asked, voice serious.
“I’m gonna call a cab or something. Don’t worry!” Please, sound sober, please sound sober.
“Send me the address, I’m gonna pick you up.”
“No, no! It’s your day off too, you don’t have to worry I’ll be fine! Really, I promise I’m going straight home right-”
“I wasn’t asking. Send the address.” He cut you off and hung up.
Cursing and sweating, you sent him your location, walking slowly to the exit, still trying to locate your friends. As you made it outside, you leaned against the wall, feeling a little better with the fresh gust of wind outside the packed club. You flexed your knees because your heels were feeling like a fucking thousand needles punching the sole of your feet. You should listen to your younger sister and start wearing sneakers to the club.
After a few minutes, you saw a scandalous rich man’s car pulling up and you knew it’s Fernando. He stopped by the sidewalk and came walking to you. He was wearing slacks and a white button up, simple but classy. You had seen in his schedule before that he was going to go out with friends for dinner. So that’s probably where he came from.
He didn’t look too pissed at you but he didn’t look happy either, his face was rather neutral.
“How are you feeling?” He asked as he stopped in front of you. He was holding a water bottle, which he promptly opened and gave to you.
“I have been better, not gonna lie,” you said, and proceeded to drink almost the whole bottle of water.
“Why are you flexing your knees?” He asked.
“Because the heels are killing me.”
Silently, Fernando knelt in front of you and unbuckled the straps of your heels around your ankles.
“Off, now” he said, patting your calves, then offering you a hand so you could step out of the shoes.
“Jesus, thank you,” you mumbled, relieved to be barefoot finally, “I’m sorry, you didn’t have to pick me up.”
“I’m here already, quit whining,” he dismissed you, holding your forearm, “can you walk to the car?”
“Just give me a hand,” you asked, still a little unbalanced. You jolted a little when you felt Fernando’s hands on your thighs but he didn't touch you, he just pulled the hem of your dress down, since it was dangerously close to showing too much and maybe accidentally flashing everyone.
Fernando circled an arm around your waist, pulling you flush to his side, keeping you standing all the way to his car, holding your heels with the other hand. You looked to the side of his face, and you were suddenly hit with the realization that Fernando is really, really attractive. 
“Damn, you’re handsome!”
It honestly slipped past your lips and you felt your cheeks warm up, embarrassed for saying that out loud, but Fernando only laughed a little, and kept walking you to his car, only stopping to open the door and put you in the passenger seat.
As you took the seat, he stared at your face, trying to catch any signs of something in your face. You blinked, staring into his beautiful greeny brown eyes, and he just huffed, pulling the seat belt and locking it around you.
When he finally started driving, the silence deafening, you looked at his side profile.
“Are you upset? I’m sorry! I promise I’ll behave.”
“I’m not upset. Though I will be a little annoyed if you throw up in my Aston Martin,” he said with a small smile.
“No throwing up happening anytime soon!” You raised your hand, held it in a cross and kissed it, “I’m actually really hungry”
Fernando clicked his tongue and reached for the backseat with one hand, pulling a Burger King brown bag. You smelled the food and you smiled.
“Oh my god! You’re a savior!” You opened the bag, which had your favorite burger and big sized fries, “this is my favorite!”
You ate quietly for a couple of minutes then a thought hit you.
“How do you know I like eating Burger King after getting drunk?” You said, and Fernando looked at you, opened the glove box and handed you a tissue.
“I know you well,” was all he said. He ended up driving you to his place, and you decided to question it.
“Why did you drive me here?” You walked in, sitting on the couch.
“What do you mean?” He looked confused.
“Ugh, never mind!” You stood up but the quick movement made you stumble and Fernando quickly held you in place.
“Careful!” He put both hands on your waist, in a way that felt very intimate.
You turned to face him, and he smiled softly, his hand now on your lower back. Then, you touched his eyebrow with the tip of your finger.
“I like your eyebrows.”
“Gracias.”
“And your beard too,” you cupped his face, feeling the roughness of his beard against your palm.
“Vamos, you need a shower,” he carefully walked you up the stairs and then inside the bedroom, straight to the bathroom.
Fernando turned you around and pulled down the zipper on your back. You gasped, holding the dress in place and turning to face him.
“You can’t undress me!”
He turned around, laughing.
“Ok, get in the shower and I’ll get you some clothes, eh?”
You showered, and when you left, a towel around your body, Fernando had left a small pile of clothes inside. There was a big t-shirt and sports shorts that you dressed. He also left you a toothbrush, which seemed very thoughtful of him.
When you walked back to the room, Fernando had changed into comfy clothes, and he was waiting for you sitting on the bed.
“Are you sobering up?” He asked.
And you just nodded, sleepy, crawling into his lap and snuggling into his chest, pressing your nose to his neck.
“Yup.”
“Then you remember who I am?” 
“You’re Fernando!” He laughed a little, kissing the top of your head.
“No, amor,” he leaned back, cradling your face with one hand, and pulling your right hand with the other, “I’m your fiancé.”
Wide eyed, you stared at the big diamond ring in your finger. Then, you finally remembered, your fiancé, your beloved Nano. Who had been your boss sometime two years ago, and you resigned when you realized you had feelings for him. In the end, he had gone after you because he harbored the same feelings for you.
You ended up laughing out loud, so hard that there were tears in your eyes.
“God, I’m never drinking again!”
“It’s cute that you forgot like this,” he laughed too.
You held his face, kissing him softly. His hand ran up your back, under your shirt. You wanted more, trying to deepen the kiss, but he just held you back.
“Sleep now, eh? Tomorrow I will wake you up with besos.”
1K notes · View notes
heizours · 5 months
Text
COLLAPSING CONSCIOUSNESS
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summary. when you faint in the middle of an argument with them (requested)
tags. gn! reader, grammatical mistakes may occur
cw. reader passes out, signs of fainting beforehand, call signs of endearmeant, there are parts where they think that the reader won’t wake up again out of panic, angsty in the beginning
feat. heizou, ayato, xiao
note: i have a history about fainting but i can't tell if what i wrote was accurate enough but, pls lmk if there's something that i should change especially in the warnings.
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HEIZOU.
First off, what was the cause of the argument? I don't think big fights would occur between you and him, you see Heizou is a rational thinker and whatever dispute there will be between the two of you — he is willing to solve it right away. He hates it when the both of you are not in good terms.
How would he react if you fainted? Heizou would be frozen at first, but once his senses reach him, he reacts to it immediately once he sees you in an unconscious state or you're just about to fall unconscious.
He is a great detective that is level headed even in the brink of danger but when it comes to you, all those greatness disappears because you're the only one who can make him this vulnerable.
"And I came back, all in one piece aren't I? [Name], what's all got you so worked up over this plain case?" Heizou's tone remained stern, as he tried to keep this little dispute under good wraps.
However the problem here is, he isn't getting your point of view. He is talking about how easy this case was, while here you were at you're wits end after gathering information that this case he claimed to be easy, is very dangerous to the point it can costs his life if he wasn't careful enough in the first place.
To add more gasoline to the fire, he had gotten an injury from it and tried to also hide it from your prying eyes which just increased your disappointment in him.
“You’re simply not getting it, I am getting worked up because if you weren’t careful enough, you could have killed yourself. Speaking of coming back in ‘one piece’, how about that injury you had taken from it huh?” You backfired, as the temperature in the room continues to rise between the two of you.
You could feel the continuous pulse in your head and the sudden need to go to the bathroom as the a tense feeling climbs up your throat, yet you paid no attention to it, thinking it’s nothing more than that.
But, you were very wrong about it. As the argument escalates further, so does your need to breathe and get much air as possible, continues to increase rapidly as well.
Sick of simply hearing his repeated explanation, you decided to stand up from the chair you were seating, finding a pace to cool off and avoiding the path where you could possibly lash out on him.
Unexpectedly, you find yourself standing steadily on the floor for a moment as the noises around started to gradually fade away.
There is this feeling from within you that you need some air or you want to puke, you tried to remain unaffected, ignoring the concern look Heizou was giving you after stopping in place.
It didn't stop there- your sense of hearing was starting to get fuzzy almost turning you deaf as Heizou’s words were beginning to be incoherent in your part. 
You could feel the air inside your body being sucked out, like you're losing the oxygen that you need, and black spots began clouding your vision, not before the world before you was spinning.
You heard someone shouting and shaking you vigorously, and with all your might you tried to respond back yet nothing came out, as your mouth remained open without saying anything. 
Your body was starting to lose it's balance as it started to fall carelessly, and the last thing you felt before losing yourself was a gentle yet firm hand wrapped around you.
---
Frozen.
That’s what Heizou had felt when you fell right into his arms.
Looking back at what happened when you’re already laid out in his arms, he could still clearly remember how his eyes widened in fear, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to do. His thoughts were scattered all around the place, as all he could think about is to get you urgent help, but at the same time he doesn’t want to leave you by yourself.
He remembers it all too well, how he finds himself trembling slightly, frozen in place and filled with deep regret by his unthinkable actions. 
You were just looking out for his safety, like he have always did back at you, yet when you’re the one who reprimanded him to be careful, all he did was caused you further harm. You didn’t want to let him know the uneasiness you were feeling, and that what greatly fears him the most.
What if you never wake up again?
---
As you fluttered your eyes open, you were met by a ceiling, as you process what just happened not too long ago - Heizou, who was sitting right beside you caught wind of your consciousness and sat right up.
"..[Name]? Can you hear me?" He spoked with such tone that you could feel that a part of his voice cracked out of nervousness and worriedness because of how he was fidgeting in his seat.
You turned your head at his direction, silently observing him - he seemed to be in such a distress by how he looked. As you tried to sit up from the bed you were resting on, Heizou didn’t waste a millisecond of helping you be comfortable in the position you wanted.
"W-what happened?"
You stuttered out, while still feeling a little drowsy from the incident.
"...You f-fainted, it happened right in front of me while we were having a misunderstanding. Before you could fall on the ground, I made it near you as soon as I can so that the fall wouldn't be worse than what I am imagining." Heizou started, as he began to fidget once again and bit his lip to prevent the tears that are threatening to come out.
"Y-you were unresponsive [Name], I was trying to shake you, to get something out from you, anything to let me know that you're still there, my cries of help was heard by the General Gorou, he and his comrades calmed and distract me down while a healer was called upon by the Young Priestess."
He continued.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry that I made you feel this way my love. If - I wasn't so stubborn to listen to your concerns, maybe this could have been avoided. What I did, was horrible - I shouldn't have been angry about what you said, I had let my words get the best of me during the heat of the moment, I'm sorry."
He finished, averting his eyes away from you out of shame.
As soon as you heard his side of the story, you leaned forward to cup his cheek into your hand, turning him to face you. Despite the tiredness, you let out a grim yet genuine smile along his way, as if to assure him that you too are sorry.
"Oh my love, hush now - I'm alive and still breathing here and right in front of you, see? Do not take all the blame by yourself, as I have a fault too. I'm sorry for lashing out on you like that, when all you did was doing as you're told to, and for making you worried as well. We we're both in the wrong." You replied
Heizou grabbed the hand that was cupping his cheek, snuggled into it before giving a long peck on it before turning to look at you.
"I'm so glad you're alright, I really am. My heart, it always beats for your name, it calls your name and you have no idea how it dropped in a heartbeat like how you dropped in my arms."
He leaned in for a peck on your forehead, before grabbing your face gently into his hands, as if he was holding the whole world.
"You, you are the very essence of my existence"
Heizou finished. 
All the tension, fear, anxiousness and pent up emotions that he was holding while you were resting unconsciously was now free, away from it’s cage. The detective couldn't help but to smile at you, that is so full of love and care.
"Now, it's time for you to rest easy again my love. I suppose we won’t be stubborn for the meantime, aren’t we?"
He affirmed while hinting you with a joke at the end of his reminder about your stubbornness, that he also sometimes has.
You couldn’t help but laugh in response, before nodding.
All is well now, and the both of you couldn’t ask for more. What makes the moment more significant, is that you both knew.
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AYATO.
Arguments doesn’t occur often as well when you’re in an established relationship with the Kamisato Head, but if minor disputes were to emerge between the two of you, he would like to cool things off like giving you space and him some space to sort things out. 
How would he react if you fainted while the both of you are in the middle quarrel? He would immediately set aside whatever the both of you are fighting about, and he’ll be catching you the moment that his instinct tells him so that you’re not feeling well.
He tries to be calm, but his strained voice tells another story. When threat comes close to you that is too much for his comfort, his serene image falls into shambles.
“I don’t know when will I come back, but if the night is already falling late, please do not wait for me anymore, darling.” Ayato announced, still busy on his table
Recently, Ayato has been trapping his self inside his office and has been going on for a while now, much to Ayaka’s concern. At first, you didn’t tried to intervene with it even though you’re worried, since you knew how much your significant other cares about the well-being of the common people.
But, judging by how much he is being selfless to the point where he is not even properly taking care of himself, you decided to step in and pay him a visit with a tray of tea in your hand. You started off with a conversation and then brought up the idea of him taking a break, by drinking the tea you had visited him along with, and as usual - what he had said earlier was his response to your offer.
The situation isn’t getting any better, especially that you have sensed that you’re not feeling like yourself as well. Despite that, you pushed away what you’re feeling at the moment, and chose to persuade Ayato to rest instead.
“Then, can you at least drink the tea I have prepared for you? I’m worried, Ayaka’s worried, we’re all worried about you.” I expressed ignoring the lightheaded feeling that is coming from within me.
“[Name], as much as I would rather do it, I can’t have this documents hanging around. You know that right? Please leave me be while I am still having the patience to do so.” Ayato argued back, his voice trying to sound calm and gentle as possible yet it sounded disapproving.
This time, what you were feeling that you dismissed not too long ago, somehow become worst. In fear that you’ll add more to Ayato’s pent up stress, you just silently agreed and gave up the fight, deciding to take the rest and you’ll try again tomorrow. 
Turning your back on him, your body suddenly felt the need to fall - your vision began spotting black and white forces as if it’s forcing you to close your eyes, then came in an annoying yet blurred ring in your ears.
It doesn’t stop there, you could feel your head hanging low, you’re body was rapidly falling and you have nothing to lean on to.
Before you can even entirely fall, Ayato grabbed you by the waist preventing you from the incoming impact. By the time he sat down with you on the floor, you were already unconscious. 
Ayato turned your body around so you’re facing him, tapped your cheek multiple times, and shook you gently awake, but to no avail, you remain unresponsive.
---
Guilty.
That’s what Ayato felt, looking from the situation you were in right now.
Not once did he left your side the moment you fell senseless in his arms, no he didn’t want to take the chance - and instead shouted with all his might, that he has never done before, to get you instant help. 
And he still hasn’t left you alone, as you were laid down on a futon that you’re resting upon. For once in a blue moon, Kamisato Ayato was scared of even leaving you out of his sight. 
It creeps upon him, that all you did was cared and understand him as a busy man, all you asked for once is for him to take a rest even though you should also be doing that to yourself, but no - you putted him first before your well being, and that what makes him feel that he should be accountable for what happened to you.
---
The first thing your eyes laid upon was Ayato, who continued to seat in deep silence, not until when he looked at the slight sound that was caught up by his ears, as he let out quiet gasp of surprise and relief.
As you fidget to sit up from the futon, Ayato took action and gently helped you sit right up. When you finally settled down, he continued to stare at you in silence, but his eyes tells a different story.
They softened at the sight of you, but despite that they were also letting you know how much ache, and ashamed do they feel from putting you in this kind of state.
“...You’re alright, I’m glad.” Ayato whispered, the relief relevant at the tone of his voice, yet you could also that there’s a part in him that just wants to burst out in tears, seeing that you’re still here in front of him, alive and breathing once again.
You looked at him tenderly, as you reached out to grab his hand and squeezed it tenderly and gently, to affirm him that all is alright.
That was the breaking point.
It was Ayato’s last straw, as the tears he was trying to push away to put up his casual facade finally began to stream silently. He brought your hand near his lips, as he pecked it gently and held your hand closer to his face, rubbing it on his cheek, as if holding your hand was his lifeline.
“..I’m sorry, I truly am. I’m sorry for denying your care, I’m sorry for denying your concern and worries, I’m sorry that I made you feel this way. It was not what I intend to do darling, maybe if I did agree for that cup of tea, this situation would have been prevented, and you could have been able to tell me.”
He expressed, the regret clearly evident in his voice, as he grasped on tightly yet gently to your arm that he brought closer to him, placing a light peck every now and then as if it was an assurance to him that you’re still here right beside him.
You cupped his face by cupping your other hand on the other side of his cheek, as if you were holding the whole world in your hands right now, gesturing him to look at you in the eye. Never once did you look at him with such hatred nor misunderstand, but instead kept up the sentimental look that you always used to.
“We were both in the wrong, I hid how unwell I was feeling because I didn’t want to be a burden to you nor be added as something that can distract you. But what matters the most to me right now, is that all is well, my darling.”
You stated, as a gentle smile made it’s way on your face even though a little bit the drowsy feeling is still present there.
Ayato couldn’t help but smile back, as he let out a big sigh of relief, not before affirming you with such words you couldn’t help but feel giddy about.
“From this day forward, I will save the time to rest from being a workaholic man, and I am expecting that you, are to rest with me as well. Will that be a good negotiation between us, darling?”
Ayato replied with a hint of tease at the end of his sentence, as you nodded while laughing lightly - glad that he seemed to be in good spirits now.
He looked at you with such a tender face, as if you’re the whole purpose of his life, that he couldn’t help but to blurt out such words, it just adds to the evidence that despite being focused on his work in the past few days, all he could think and miss about was you.
“I burn for you, [Name], I’ve always been.”
Ayato whispered lovingly.
Stuck in the midst of the sincere moment, the both of you couldn’t ask for more other than the fact, that the love between the two of you is still burning, and it increased more than ever.
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XIAO.
Arguments with Xiao tend to be a little rocky, only in the beginning of your relationship though. He avoids bringing arguments into the relationship but if the argument continues to grow bigger like a raging fire, he wants things to not be as worst as it already is, and would try to sort things out in the best way he thinks it would work.
How would he react if you fainted? Xiao won’t have time to comprehend what is happening, because as soon as he senses that something about you is not right, he would be right by your side in a heartbeat. His priority first is to get you to safety, before he would ask such things.
He can’t  find a way to stay put, because even if Xiao can stay level headed at such emergencies, he can’t act the same when you’re the one being directly involved.
“...This isn't working out” Xiao said, breaking the tense silence between the two of you after a brief moment.
The argument wasn’t that bad at first, but as the both of you backfired such words at each other, it had came to the point where it is already big as it is before the both of you could even realize it.
Stuck in the midst of trying to mend again the misunderstanding in each other’s perspective, you forgot the fact that you’re not feeling well at the meantime as well, wanting for this argument to be fixed up first.
Looking back at what he previously said - You freeze in your spot, almost as if a bucket of cold water was dump right at your face. You couldn’t find the right words to respond to it, almost as if you’re questioning if Xiao really thinks about it like that.
Xiao’s back remained turned against you, arms crossed as you were right behind him almost in the dark, if not for the moon illuminating some light across his room in Wangshu Inn.
Your breath becomes shaky, but you remained your ground.
“....Well, do you love me?”
You asked, dodging the question he gave and instead gave him another one taking in slow deep breaths maintaining a good pace in hopes that the ringing in your ears would soon stop.
Xiao stood silent, back still facing you - If only you could see how his eyes widened slightly at the question.
“This isn’t the right time for you to be asking m-”
“Do you love me?”
You asked again, ignoring the sudden light headedness that washed over you, as you tried to plant your feet on the ground. The air was silent for a moment, but something was not right, almost as if something more eventful would happen.
Every millisecond that passes by as you await for his answer, your body starts wobbling on it’s own, as black and white spots began to cloud your vision.
This time, Xiao turned his back on you, but before he could give his answer, he gasp in shock at the state you’re in. Your face was pale, and it seemed that at any minute or even second your body would give up on you.
The high pitched ringing in your ears was more vigorous than ever, and your body screams for you to do something. The blood that flows right through you suddenly drops, as your consciousness leaves you, but before you can fall with a loud thud, a firm grip held you down.
---
Clammy.
Xiao’s hands was clammy from the nervousness and guiltiness sucking him in.
His voice was caught in his throat the moment he caught you, as he tried to speak, to shout for help, anything at all, but all he managed was to inhale a harsh breath, as his grip on your unconscious body tightened.
And at last, for the first time in his life, Xiao shouted for help, he didn’t care who it was, anyone will do, as all he knows is that he can’t lose you right at this moment, not now, not ever. 
The tone in his voice still held with the same firmness but if anyone were to listen closer, it was at the verge of cracking from despair, as he tried to gently shook you awake while still calling out for help.
He looked down on you, worried flickering in his eyes as the minutes continued to passed by, while the gut in his stomach continued to dig deeper, it was such a sickening feeling that he thinks he’s about to go crazy.
---
You stirred in the futon, as you slowly gained back your consciousness - eyes darting around the room looking for a certain person, until your eyes landed on him who’s at the balcony, staring off into space outside, as he gripped the wooden railings to ease down his thoughts.
“..Xiao?”
Your voice came out as weak as you’re still recovering especially at a state like that, but Xiao heard it all too well as his eyes snapped open in your direction.
The both of you had a stare off for a moment, and before you knew it, he was right in front of you in just a few strides, as he kneeled down at the side of your futon.
You slowly sat up, as Xiao helped you gently. The both of you still as quiet as ever, that is until you caressed Xiao’s cheek giving him an assuring look.
He let out a shaky sigh of relief, as if the weight in all his body has been now lifted, as he lifted his hand to grasp and caress your hand, leaning further into your touch, as if it was his lifeline.
“..Don’t scare me like that again, alright?”
Xiao whispered, almost too quiet as his voice was on the verge of cracking again - this time not from the despair he felt not too long ago, but because from the comfort and solace provided by your warm touch.
There was a beat drop of silence before the yaksha glances at you once again, still with a heavy heart from the events that took place not too far ago.
"..My life...it revolves around you. You are the reason I breathe, you are the reason I continue to live. Telling you that I love you is an understatement to begin with, because it would not be enough for how much you mean to me."
Your eyes soften as Xiao stated those words with a sincere tone, as he pressed a peck on your wrist, looking at you still as if you are star that hang and brought back the light in his life. It was his own way of apologizing to you.
"We will work this out.."
Xiao continued, nodding at you with affirmation and determination.
"We will"
You repeated with a light yet groggy chuckle, as Xiao pressed a kiss on your forehead this time, before gently placing his hand at the back of your head bringing the both of your foreheads closer to each other.
"Rest, and after that we will talk and fix this out calmly"
He whispered.
No words were spoken after that, but the both of you knew this was enough assurance that in every afterglow, there is a daylight. The both of you will work this out just fine.
1K notes · View notes
So this is a weird ask but I figured an Actual Welsh Person would be the person to go to, and you've been pretty gung-ho about the language thing. So I hope I'm not bothering you with this.
Is there a cultural consensus on foreigners learning Welsh? I'm American and I don't have a single shred of Welsh ancestry. My family is historically German, and we've been here since the English Colony days, so it honestly seems really weird even to try to claim some tie to German heritage.
Anyway, my point is, I have absolutely zero legitimate claim to the Welsh language. I don't plan to travel to Wales in the foreseeable future. I have no reason to learn Welsh except that it sounds pretty and I enjoy a challenge.
Putting aside the issue of "lmao it's gonna be stupid difficult to learn an endangered language if you don't have anyone to speak it with" (I have a loose plan for dealing with that, and the experience of learning two languages to "can read most novels without needing the dictionary" level without anyone to speak them with in person already) entirely, do you reckon it's okay for me to study Welsh? I know Americans are really, really bad about just kinda assuming the whole world belongs to us, and I'm trying not to do that here. Especially because Welsh IS endangered.
I imagine your average Welsh person probably doesn't care what some random American does. But like, for people who care about the language...Would it be considered disrespectful or overstepping for me to study it? I don't expect you to speak for the entire country, of course, but I respect your opinion and I feel like you'd have a grasp on what the general feeling towards a foreigner like me might be.
Thanks for your time.
I honestly, truly, do not understand how the discussion around cultural appropriation has been twisted in the cultural zeitgeist to such an extent that people now feel anxiety about learning other languages.
This is not a personal attack on you, Anon - the gods only know that you clearly care and want to do the right thing, and that's beautiful and wonderful and also I will come back to extolling your personal virtues at the end of this post, so stay tuned. But I do want to take a moment here to talk about the broader issue at play, which I have seen echoed multiple times elsewhere, because fuck me what are we doing to ourselves.
Learn. Languages.
That is what languages are for! To be used for communication. If you don't learn languages, you are forcing everyone else to use yours. How have we somehow, as a culture, twisted that into being the less selfish option? How have we done that? I posted my favourite Welsh idiom recently, and someone reblogged it and wrote in the tags that they loved the idiom and would start using it, but they would do so in English because their "Welsh pronunciation would make their Welsh grandmother spin in her grave."
What kind of mental gymnastics is that?
How the fuck do you twist it so badly that you think taking a Welsh idiom for your own and exclusively using it in English is less offensive than saying it in Welsh but maybe a bit wrong? I've literally had people proclaim to me that they're learning Welsh on Duolingo but they never speak it because they're too self-conscious, and they tell me this not to highlight a massive flaw in themselves that they need to work on, but as though I'm supposed to pat them on the head and thank them for... still making me speak English to them.
There was that post where a Deaf blogger received an anonymous ask saying learning sign language is cultural appropriation, as though Deaf people haven't been calling for Sign to be taught in schools. As though a Deaf person being entirely isolated in everyday hearing society unless they have an interpreter with them is less offensive than a hearing person being able to use BSL.
Like, these are not sacred or religious languages. The purpose of Welsh or BSL or what have you is not to perform the Eleusinian mysteries. It's a living everyday language, same as English -
Except it's not the same as English. As Anon here so rightly points out, Welsh is endangered. That means we are desperate for people to learn it. That's how it will survive. That's how we reversed it from 'dying language' to 'living language', in fact - we managed to get lots of people to learn it. You know what is a threat, though? People not learning it because, like poor Anon here, they've been somehow convinced by Western society that you're only allowed to learn languages if you personally have a historic or cultural connection to them that you can prove via six forms of ID and a letter of recommendation from a druid. Or people never using it because they're too embarrassed to try and risk losing face by getting it wrong, or maybe sounding a bit silly, and thus forcing us to use English anyway. Those are threats.
Anon. Listen to me, feel the sincerity of my words: we adore you. We adore you. You cannot imagine how appreciated it is when someone learns Welsh. You cannot imagine how touched we are that you wanted to, that you tried, that you respected us enough and considered us valid enough that you made the effort. Our closest neighbours are the very people who are still trying to stamp out Welsh to this very day. Do you know the number 1 reaction I get, by a country mile, when I tell English people that I speak Welsh? It's some variant on a scoff, and the sentiment "Why? What's the point? Bit useless, isn't it?"
By a country mile. That's the reaction I expect, and brace for, and is overwhelmingly what I get.
So when someone who isn't Welsh actually chooses to learn Welsh?
Imagine what that feels like! To go from not-even-hidden disgust, from outright mockery and often active suppression campaigns, to a foreigner earnestly telling me that they love and respect my language so much they're trying to learn it. Imagine how that feels.
Please learn Welsh. Please learn it. We will love you for it. We will build you a statue. We will bake little Welshcakes with your face on in icing sugar. We will write you poems in complex rhyme. We'll name an Eisteddfod prize after you. We'll name at least, like, three sheep after you. Thank you, thank you so much for even wanting to learn. You're a delight and a marvel and a wonder. Your hair looks great today, as it does all days. You're a strong, independent human being of immense wisdom and compassion. If this were a Welsh myth you'd be a wise salmon the heroes came to for advice. What a fantastic human.
The welcome awaits if you choose to learn
9K notes · View notes
delulujuls · 2 months
Text
loverboy | ln4
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hi, i finally wrote second part for tinder buddies! im not sure if i like it though, i've got an idea but i dont know how it went.
anyway please enjoy and lets cross our fingers for japan win for this loverboy!
i will let myself tag everyone who wanted to be tagged in part 2: @mickslover @formula-1-04 @petitefaeries @bayleewatts67 @xjval @kapsylia @teamnovalak @slutforln4 @shimmermotorsport @myownwritings @maydiamondsinthenightsky @mikadojohnny
summary: when it turned out that Lando is more of a loverboy than a fuckboy and there is no point in trusting appearances because they tend to be misleading
warnings: none
pairing: fem!journalist!reader x lando norris
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Y/N looked as if she had seen a ghost. She clenched her phone in her hand and glanced at the spot where Lando had been just a moment ago. Yes, that Lando, with whom she had a brief interview a few seconds ago, Lando Norris, who drives for McLaren, her Tinder buddy with whom she's been exchanging explicit messages for over a month now, and who knows more about her body seen through the camera than any guy she's had the chance to flirt with in person.
The girl only snapped out of it when the camera operator she had been filming with nudged her shoulder.
"The team bosses' interview is about to start, I saved us seats."
She quickly nodded and tucked the microphone into her bag, throwing it over her shoulder. She glanced at the McLaren garage one last time before heading to the conference. After all, she was here because she had duties.
As she took her place among the crowd of other journalists, instead of focusing on coming up with questions, she picked up her phone again. It immediately unlocked to her conversation with Lando, and she hastily replied to his latest, unambiguous proposition.
"I'm a bit busy at the moment. If you want, we can meet later in the evening."
Lando was scrolling through Instagram when a new message popped up in his notifications. He smiled and swiped it open, reading and replying quickly.
"i'd be honored. give me the address of the hotel you're at. and be ready by 9."
The girl smiled and sent him the address along with a note that she couldn't wait, wishing him good luck in qualifying.
Lando felt his cheeks hurting from smiling. However, he locked his phone and set it aside. He knew that if he didn't restrain himself, he would bombard the girl with messages. He was so excited about the whole situation, the overflow of emotions building up in him could easily secure him pole position that day, which he sincerely hoped for. He wanted to present himself in the best possible way, knowing that on that day, one special pair of eyes would be watching him.
Y/N was also excited, but as time passed, she began to feel stressed. Not because she was going on a date with Lando Norris, but because she was about to confront someone whom she may have known inside out but in reality had no idea who he truly was. She was slightly apprehensive about whether Lando would turn out to be as he portrayed himself on his Tinder profile. There, she dealt with a confident guy who knew how to flirt, who knew how to make a girl's heart beat faster. With a guy who focused only on fun and ultimately only on it. Someone who knew what he wanted and sooner or later would get it, one way or another. Now, knowing her conversation partner's identity, Y/N was certain that their online acquaintance might only exist in that dimension. And just as she had realized before, somewhere in the back of her mind lived a lonely spark, nourished by the hope that something more serious might come out of this online acquaintance. Lando was out of her reach, that was more than certain. However, she didn't plan to dwell on negative thoughts because she had a chance for a pleasant evening ahead of her. She had no intention of ruining it.
Qualifying didn't come as a surprise to anyone, as Max was to start the race from pole position the next day, with Charles in second place. But to everyone's positive surprise, Lando closed the top three, giving McLaren the opportunity to start from third position. Y/N planned to text him and congratulate him on his excellent performance, but she decided to wait until evening with her congratulations. She didn't want to come off as pushy or, worse, as a psycho.
Lando, indeed, was pleased with himself, but not as much as if he had managed to secure pole position. Y/N could notice this on one of the monitors, where post-qualifying interviews with drivers conducted by David Coulthard were taking place.
"Great performance, Lando, you were on Ferrari's heels today!"
"We did well today, not just me, but Oscar and the whole team as well. I hoped for more, but you know, the appetite comes with eating," he replied, but despite the smile on his flushed face, he actually seemed not very pleased with the result. Y/N was packing her things when she observed post-qualifying talks out of the corner of her eye. "I wanted to perform particularly well today, but unfortunately it didn't work out. I hope tomorrow will be better."
The girl sighed and glanced at the contents of her bag, looking at her phone lying at the bottom. She took it out and unlocked it, entering their conversation. She wanted to send him a selfie, smiling and holding up four fingers with a note congratulating him on the result, but she thought it might be a bit silly. So, she quickly wrote an alternative.
"Speaking of appetite, I hope you're looking forward to dinner more positively than to your third starting place. In my opinion, you did great today x"
When Lando finally had the chance to reach for his phone and saw the message from the girl, he sincerely hoped to see her face again. He hovwever, was pleased with her congratulations.
"i can't wait for tonight. and I hope tomorrow we'll have better reasons to celebrate"
Y/N smiled to herself, throwing her bag over her shoulder and heading with the cameraman to the media zone to have the opportunity to talk to some of the drivers or team principals. She replied quickly.
"We?"
"tomorrow I'd also like to invite you to dinner. because i'm afraid tonight may not be enough for us"
The girl felt herself blushing, so she quickly put her phone in her pocket. She didn't manage to run into Lando in the media zone again, but she had the opportunity to gather some more good material. As the drivers began to return to their garages and the paddock slowly began to empty, Y/N and the cameraman also decided to return to the hotel. The girl was absolutely not in the mood to deal with the footage recorded that day, so she was immensely grateful when her coworker offered to spend the rest of the day on preliminary editing and assured her that she didn't have to worry about anything. Y/N breathed a sigh of relief, as in her current pre-date euphoria, she wouldn't be able to create anything suitable for publication. When the girl returned to her hotel room, she decided to take a long bath. Sitting in the tub, her phone lying nearby vibrated again.
"actually, would you mind if i pick you up at 8?"
Y/N smiled when she read his message. She glanced at her watch. She still had 3 hours before leaving, so she should manage without any trouble.
"Why, have you already missed me?"
Lando snorted to himself as he read her message. He would be lying if he said he hadn't. He wanted to see her again as soon as possible.
"if i'm being honest, i would like to be sitting with you at dinner already"
Y/N also smiled. It was cute and completely unlike the image Lando had built and which she had in her head.
"I guess I shouldn't torture you that much. I'll try to be ready by 7."
Lando smiled and squeezed his phone in his hand. Now he couldn't wait for the meeting even more.
"see you then, darling"
The girl blushed when he affectionately called her that. She set aside her phone and immersed herself in the hot water, but even that couldn't wipe the smile off her face.
At the agreed time, both of them were ready. When the girl stepped out of the hotel, she didn't even need to look around, as she easily noticed Lando leaning against his impressive car. He held a bouquet of white flowers in his hand and smiled as soon as he saw her. He walked a little towards her, but he had no idea how to greet her. Offer her his hand? Hug her? What would be most appropriate? He didn't want to make a fool of himself.
"Hi, good to see you," he said, unable to take his eyes off her. He bit his lip, but still couldn't stop smiling. "You look stunning."
"You too, but I'm sure you already know that," she replied, looking into his eyes. They were sparkling, brightening up his already joyful face. Even though he was wearing a dark shirt and dark jeans, his hair was slightly disheveled, and she could already smell his cologne almost on the stairs, Lando at that moment looked adorable, like an elated child.
"Maybe so, but it's always nice to hear it from someone like you," he replied, extending the flowers towards her. "Here, these are for you. And I hope I didn't make a mistake and accidentally buy you flowers you hate."
The girl chuckled softly and shook her head, taking the flowers from him and smelling them.
"No, absolutely not. I love white flowers, and these are beautiful. Thank you."
"Phew, thank god," he theatrically let out a sigh of relief "Glad I started off on the right foot."
"I rather doubt you don't know how to behave around girls," she retorted, following him as he opened the car door for her.
"Well, I'm afraid you might be surprised," he replied, helping her into the car and closing the door behind her.
Lando chose a very pleasant restaurant, located not far from the hotel where the girl was staying. The place was cozy and seemed expensive, but it manifested in a modest way, without any tackiness or artificial wealth. He reserved a table in the corner of the room, so they could expect a bit of privacy. Before taking his seat at the table, he pulled out the chair for the girl. She tried her best to remain composed, but the smile never left her face. This meeting and this whole situation was more than crazy.
"I hope I picked a good place," he said, sitting across from her. "I've never been to these restaurants before, so today's choice was largely based on Google reviews."
He admitted, glancing at her uncertainly. But seeing her smile, he smiled too.
"It's very nice here. Your choice didn't disappoint."
"Second victory in twenty minutes, going better than I expected," he joked, eliciting a quiet laugh from the girl. He then thought it was a good sign that she laughed at his jokes. It meant that this whole situation had potential.
Lando was genuinely stressed about this meeting. He knew well how people perceived him and what kind of guy girls thought he was, but the truth was entirely different. His hands were sweating with nerves in the car, and he prayed that the steering wheel wouldn't slip from his hands and cause some idiotic accident. Upon returning to the hotel, he spent over two hours searching for the right place to take the girl for dinner and did about twenty quizzes on what flowers he should buy her for their first date. Since he met her at the paddock, they had the opportunity to talk, and he managed to connect all the facts. He felt like either his heart would jump out of his chest or his cheeks would fall off from smiling. In reality, Lando was absolutely not who he portrayed himself to be and how he was perceived. And Y/N was slowly starting to realize that.
When the couple placed their orders and the waiter brought the vase for flowers that Lando had requested earlier, there was a moment of silence. Both were equally embarrassed, not knowing if it was because of each other or the whole situation.
"So," Lando started, rubbing his hands on his pants, "oh god, I don't even know where to begin. Should we pretend we don't know each other and this is our first meeting? Or perhaps the opposite?"
"I honestly have no idea, but I'm glad we both don't know how to behave," Y/N laughed. "But we can start over. Like it's our first date."
She smiled warmly at him. He reciprocated the smile and reached out his hand towards her.
"Lando, nice to meet you."
"Y/N, and it's also a pleasure for me, Lando."
She shook his hand. From that moment on, everything started to go smoothly. The conversation flowed smoothly, and there wasn't a single moment when there wasn't something to talk about. Lando turned out to be the complete opposite of the person she met on Tinder. He was also different from the Lando she sometimes observed in the media. He turned out to be a funny and very intelligent guy with interesting hobbies, not just those revolving around Formula 1. His big heart and incredible modesty also made it impossible not to feel sympathy towards him. Lando, on the other hand, wasn't really up for this meeting, he honestly had no idea what to expect. As it turned out, he met not only an attractive but also hardworking girl, for whom motorsport was not just a job but also a hobby. It also turned out that they had a lot in common, so after a while, the remnants of stress and uncertainty disappeared, and they began to feel in each other's company as if they had known each other for ages.
Their conversation was only interrupted by the waiter, who apologized and said that the restaurant was closing in fifteen minutes. Y/N and Lando both looked at their watches at the same time and were shocked to find that it was just before midnight, and the past five hours had flown by like fifteen minutes.
"Sure, of course, we'll ask for the check," Lando replied to the waiter, who went to tally their dinner. As soon as the girl reached for her purse, Lando looked at her meaningfully. "I hope you don't think I brought you here for you to have to pay."
"We can split the bill," she replied, looking at him and clutching her wallet. "People usually do that on first dates, right?"
"It would be a pleasure if you honored me to be a gentleman and let me pay."
Y/N laughed and shook her head.
"As you wish, Mr. Gentleman."
When he paid for their dinner, they left the restaurant together. Lando once again opened the car door for her, and their eyes met when their faces were inches apart as she passed him to take the passenger seat. When they were back at her hotel, the girl reluctantly glanced towards the entrance. She would have loved to spend time with him until the early morning.
She sighed and smiled sadly, looking at him.
"I know, me too," he replied, easily reading her thoughts. "But we'll probably bump into each other in the paddock in the morning. Purely by chance, of course, not like I'll intentionally run into you, absolutely not."
Y/N chuckled at his words.
"It was very nice spending the evening with you, Lando."
"The pleasure was all mine," he replied, smiling at her.
They sat in silence for a moment, exchanging silent glances.
"Would it be inappropriate if I kissed you now? Since we agreed that today we're starting with a clean slate?"
He asked, his gaze moving from her eyes to her lips.
"People don't usually kiss on first dates, but I feel like I've seen these lips somewhere before, and they've told me a lot of different, indecent things, so I think we can make an exception."
She replied, biting her lip. She surprised herself with her boldness, not to mention Lando, who just saw the same girl who he sometimes saw on the screen of his phone in the evenings. As soon as he got her consent, he touched her cheek without hesitation and pulled her into a long, passionate kiss.
Y/N returned the kiss, smiling into his lips.
"Have a good race tomorrow, and after tomorrow's dinner, I'll invite you for dessert."
She whispered, still centimeters away from him, when they separated after a moment. Lando unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car, circling around it, opening her door, and offering her his hand.
"I think I can fit in dessert tonight too," he replied, biting his lip and looking into her eyes. She returned the smile and handed him her hand without hesitation. It seemed that the evening was not ending for these two, on the contrary, it was just about to begin.
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thatdammchickennugget · 7 months
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Just My Type
pairing - hockey player!theodore nott x figure skater!reader
tags - hockey player and figure skater au
warnings - none I think
wordcount - 1.1k
a/n - I wrote this drunk in the middle of the night soo...enjoy. might write a second part if anyone is interested
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The tension that had accumulated in your shoulders throughout the day slowly faded away with every stroke your skates took over the freshly resurfaced ice. Neither your skating partner, nor your coach were here yet. So, you decided to make use of the little time you had the rink all to yourself.
Pushing your headphones over your ears and starting your current favourite song before carefully throwing your phone over the banister and onto your jacket lying on the bench, you turned back towards the rink and pushed your skates hard into the frozen surface, the blades cutting into the ice, leaving long lines behind.
Even though you loved skating with a partner and you could not even imagine having to perform alone anymore, you really savoured these rare moments of having the whole place to yourself. With your university’s hockey team, the multiple younger teams and all the other figure skaters it was usually packed. You got lucky by getting the owner’s wife as your coach, meaning you often got prime practice spots. It also helped that you regularly volunteered to help out with beginner classes. You had worked pretty hard on getting into their good books.
After warming up, you quickly got lost in the music and the freeing feeling of flying across the ice, improvising most of your movements, not really having a choreography in mind. You were gliding backwards, building up momentum preparing to jump into a double lutz.
Completely focused, you lifted into the air, but instead of landing back on the ice your back collided with something hard and you hit the ground with a groan. The person you had crashed into lost their balance as well, their skates barely missing your leg as they tumbled down beside to you.
“Shit, sorry. Are you okay?” a deep voice rung out as he pushed himself back up, offering you his hand.
“Nothing broken, I think,” you mumbled, rubbing your aching lower back and pulling down your headphones to hang around your neck. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention where I was going. Didn’t know anyone else was in here.”
“I wasn’t looking either,” he grimaced, hand running through his messy brown hair.
Taking his hand and letting him help you up, your face flushed when you caught him looking you up and down. His tall frame was towering over you and your heart sped up as you met his eyes, the warmth spreading from your cheeks and down your neck.
The corner of his lips quirked up into a smirk when he noticed your flustered state. That was when your gaze dropped down to his jersey covered chest, a big yellow number eight staring back at you. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What was a hockey player doing here right now?
You did not recognize him as you were not following the hockey team, having gotten enough of hockey boys in your freshman year. In your experience, most of them were arrogant pricks who thought your passion was a lower sport. If they even acknowledged figure skating as a real sport at all.
Backing up slightly, you mentally cursed yourself for the way your knees almost buckled under his intense gaze, your legs feeling like jelly.
“What are you doing here anyways?” you asked after clearing your throat.
“What does it look like?” he teased, mentioning over to where the rest of his team was getting ready to join him on the ice. Some of them were watching your exchange and you hoped they had not witnessed the whole thing and you suddenly became acutely aware of your drenched leggings, praying that it did not look as bad as it felt.
You found the only player you knew in the group, sending Enzo a small wave. The two of you had met when his sister started taking lessons with you. You had found it adorable that he always brought her and stayed to watch. Most of the parents just dropped their children off and came back to pick them up later. Enzo, however, was there every Saturday morning, cheering not only for the sister but also for the other girls.
“But you don’t have practice right now,” you told him as you crossed your arms across your chest. “Seven to eight is our spot.”
Usually the team practiced right before you. You always heard them make a ruckus in their locker room as you waited for Billy, the Zamboni-driver, to finish refreshing the rink. Now you realized why it had felt so eery in here earlier, their laughter and yells had been missing.
“Didn’t you get the new schedule? Our practice got pushed back,” he mumbled, bending down to reach for his stick, his scent of mint and tobacco wafting your way.
“I did get it. And my spot didn’t change.” You were sure, having checked it over multiple times.
Spotting Lena, your trainer, walking towards the rink, you quickly pushed yourself away from the boy, gliding over to the banister where she was standing. The blonde woman met you with an apologetic smile.
“I’m guessing you already heard?” she asked, nodding to the player who just came to a stop behind you. “Hello Theo.”
“What’s going on?” you questioned as you watched the other players start warming up.
“There was a mishap with the schedule. Brody double booked the rink for you guys,” she explained and you stifled your groan. “Unfortunately we can’t fix it right now. Which means we’ll have to share on Tuesdays and Thursdays for now.”
“What? But Regionals are in four weeks and we need the whole rink for the routine!” you complained and Lena shrugged her shoulders.
“I’m sorry but I can’t do anything about it right now. We’ll just have to adapt,” Lena grumbled and turned to look around the area. “Wes didn’t show again?”
The mention of your partner made you cringe, your fingers finding the hem of your sweater, fiddling with it nervously. He had been becoming less and less reliable each week lately, being late all the time and sometimes not even showing up at all.
“He’s in the bathroom,” you lied, praying that he was just running late and would show up soon. Lena could definitely tell you were not telling the truth and apparently so could the boy behind you, Theo apparently.
He snorted at your bluff and you quickly whirled around to glare at him. “You better tell your friends to stay on your side.”
“Don’t worry, princess. I’ll make sure you won’t fall on your ass again,” he smirked, raising his brows as if he was trying to get you flustered again. You did not give him the satisfaction, just rolling your eyes before skating away.
Soon Lena joined you and you let out a breath of relief when you spotted Wes strolling into the building.
By now, you were the main topic of discussion among the hockey boys, Enzo being questioned from all sides as he was the only one who knew anything about you. Enzo watched with a knowing grin as Theo kept glancing your way every time you jumped or spun around, missing most of his shots.
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jewishvitya · 7 months
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[This post was originally written in response to someone tagging me and claiming that a free Palestine would mean all Israeli Jews will be kicked out and where will I go, and how they can't understand why I'm so against Israel being our ethnostate. OP blocked me, so I'm reposting with a few edits, because I already wrote this and I might as well.]
Look. I understand your mentality. We're traumatized by a history of violence against us. We were shown that so many in the world want us dead, and so many others won't stop them. I get it. But I refuse to let myself silently become the face of similar oppression for other people.
Israel benefits from antisemitism and maintains myths that got Jewish people killed in the past, like double loyalty. It weaponizes it for propaganda reasons. It's supported by antisemitic Christian zionist organizations with terrifying motivations. It started out with violence not only against Palestinians but against Jews too. Israel isn't motivated by our safety, it abuses that idea. It manipulates and weaponizes our trauma to make us feel justified in causing so much suffering to innocent people.
You're right that I'll have nowhere to go if I'm kicked out of here. This is where I was born. My parents come from other countries that I won't feel safe in. But all of this is hypothetical. The ethnic cleansing and genocide of Palestinians is not hypothetical, it's REALITY. It's happening RIGHT NOW. And I don't understand how, as a Jewish person who knows what this kind of suffering and loss of life means, you seem unable to prioritize that. I tell you I'm witnessing a genocide happening right next to me and you keep telling me "but what if they hurt you instead."
The assumption that Palestinians will pull some sort of reverse ethnic cleansing against us is racist. This assumption is the reason Israel feels comfortable calling the carpet bombing of a civilian population "self defense." Killing them based on a this is not self defense, it's a racially motivated crime against humanity.
And I'm calling it an assumption because I'm not willing to pull from the Hamas charter that they've since replaced. Hamas isn't Palestinians. The only reason they became this powerful is Israeli funding, and Israeli violence giving Hamas free PR as the only ones who will stand up to the state that will keep them trapped and dying.
We control every aspect of their lives. Israel created a place that breeds radicalization. No group of people, living under the conditions forced on Palestinians, would be peaceful. They would fight back. Because peaceful attempts to have the human rights that Israel denies them got nothing. We stomped on every single one. We blocked all other routes and left them with only violence, which Israeli politicians have been using as an excuse for over 15 years to make a show of force with military campaigns whenever they wanted a boost in popularity. We created living conditions with such low life expectancy that half of the population is children because so few adults survive. They don't deserve this. No one deserves this.
Palestine was a land with people living in it. One plot of land can create multiple groups of people, especially when we've been separated for 2000 years. Our connection to this land does not cancel out theirs. Removing them to create our own country could never be right. It's not an argument saying that our connection to Israel gives us the right to move here to live ALONGSIDE Palestinians. That's not what we wanted. We wanted a country that enforces Jewish majority and legally prioritizes Jews. You're justifying this when I repeatedly state that the only way for it to exist is through ethnic cleansing and genocide. There's no way to make this concept into a reality without killing, displacing, and oppressing whoever's left in various different ways, from apartheid to other kinds of discrimination.
I'm not against safety for us. I want to be safe. I want my children to grow in a safe world where we can be openly and joyfully Jewish. I'm not willing to pay for that with the lives and freedoms of other people.
So I will be loud about this: Palestinians deserve to be free in every part of their homeland, even if it's our ancestral homeland too.
If safety for us means we're the ones committing the genocide, maybe we should rethink what safety looks like.
I'm terrified for the lives of millions of people in Gaza. Right now, all I can think about is this, and it baffles me to see people so willing to transfer the horrors of our history to other people.
I had a lovely conversation in DMs in response to the first post, about how zionism encourages us to isolate rather than build bridges in the places where we live all over the world. We can't ignore the way antisemitism saturates culture, but we should also remember the places where Jewish communities thrived for centuries, the places where our neighbors protected us. We're hated, and we're loved. Each form of oppression is unique, so no other group experiences what Jewish people do exactly, but we're not alone. We have a long and rich history of solidarity with other marginalized communities and involvement in liberation movements. We're actively working to make the world safer, and we have people fighting with us. I'm just participating in this fight where I am. The struggle for liberation is a human struggle. You can't use the trauma of antisemitism to silence me about other kinds of bigotry.
Never again. To ANYONE.
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dr-felitas · 2 months
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to love is to learn
synopsis: aventurine is still unexposed to the many concepts of this world. but that doesn't mean he won't try to get to know them if it's for you.
pairing: aventurine x reader | wordcount: 1.0k | content & warnings: hurt/comfort, insecure aventurine, established relationship, my ass wrote this in an hour and its super late rn i just wanna upload this and my lazy ass did NOT proofread this + im on mobile so hell, kinda HELLA rushed ; ficlet
a/n: just the other day me and azul were talking about what body parts of aven would be sensitive and we got to his collarbone and azul said that he thinks that it'd be super evident so i pointed out that it might be cause he was used to starvation and barely ate even when he got to the ipc/had the chance to do so. SO I JUST HAD TO WRITE SMTH.
tags: @azullumi
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aventurine shudders under your touch. your nimble fingers trace across his collarbone, featherlight movements, touch so delicate, it makes him tremble.
the pads of your digits lightly dance across his clavicle, one finger turns into two. your index swiftly slides over the pale skin that separates the bone that lies underneath. while your thumb starts inching closer the neckline of his satin pajama, diving beneath. at that he can't help but flinch.
“oh god.” he laughs out. “someone's being touchy today.” his voice is filled with joy. hearing, seeing, knowing that aventurine has fun around you, makes you crave for more. his laugh is an intoxicating drug. something that you'll always long for, absorbing it until every part of your body is stained with the tantalising essence and puts you to your demise.
you don't stop your actions, instead continuing to glide your fingers along his delicate body. “sorry, for i couldn't help it!” a giggle escapes your mouth.
“i just thought about how pretty it is.” you let out a small hum.
“my collarbone? pretty, how come?” he's confused, what is the beauty you see within his body?
his body is fragile. it's a hollow shell he carries around. ugly and not worthy of your attention even less your admiration, abused and marked in burns. when the digits that he carries around like a sacred body part of his, roughly engraved on his neck, come in contact with any kind of substance, liquid or his own fingers. he's reminded of the mishap his body was or rather is in. how it was abused and dragged through the mud.
putting his calloused fingers around the tattoo, stings. the touch lingers like a nostalgic scent which still remains on an old piece of clothing, one that has never been washed so the smell never fades away. it burns up at the slightest touch. hurting just as much as when it was freshly inflicted onto his young body.
kakavasha doesn't even know what he looks like. the only person he sees in the mirror is aventurine. sure he walked past puddles of dirty rain back in his childhood, reflecting his younger self, but the images are vague and blurry. he doesn't know what kakavasha looks like and he probably never will.
and neither do you. the only thing you have in front of you right now is aventurine. a shattered soul that doesn't know where it belongs. his being consists of a thousand fragments, they're scattered thoughts that are similar to broken mirror shards.
they reflect the tales of his heart and reveal its greatest desire. mirroring those untold stories like the surface of the water. thoughts and wishes that are full of pureness, almost childlike.
the broken pieces that make up the man who's named aventurine long for a haven which he can call a safe space - a home. but on the other hand he thinks that he's not permitted to find such a place, that he's not allowed to stay, undeserving of it.
“no particular reason. i just like the way it stands out, it's easy to find and trace.” the words that roll off your tongue sting. they probably hurt as much as a paper cut you've received as a little kid, but it's not like kakavasha knows or is able to relate - he didn't get to grow up like the other children. but he can't blame you, you're oblivious to his past.
his body has gone through physical and emotional abuse. beat ups, labor or starvation. the reason why his collarbone is so evident, the face you adore is so slim, and his rips slightly poke through his body, is all because kakavashas hunger has never been satisfied and the dryness in his throat has never been quenched.
even after he put on the mask of the man who calls himself aventurine - a wealthy man, who’s a member of the ten stone hearts that makes more money than he spends, he's still reluctant when it comes to eating. of course he could buy all the delicacies that kakavasha never got to try - never even knew, but he hesitates.
the concept of chewing and swallowing the bits is still something aventurine can't befriend himself with. it's unfamiliar - he's not used to it, the feeling of a full stomach, what it's like to be satisfied after a meal. it's something foreign to him, a feeling he's not sure he'll ever get accustomed to.
he doesn't think he deserves to eat. to know what it feels like to be full, the rumbling that comes from his stomach is the one he grew up with is what brought him here. he fears that if he gets too comfortable with something or someone he'll forget who he is.
a lost soul that mourns after the past, but saved itself from the dark abyss, freeing itself. not allowing himself to get too close, always keeping everyone that comes near him at an arm's length. worrying he might grow too attached.
so why is he still here? here with you, chattering happily and conversing freely, he doesn't deserve it - he doesn't deserve you.
but is it wrong to be selfish for once? he knows the answer already: it is. but he can't help it, not when you coax him into this position, one which he can't leave, no matter how hard he tries.
“i love you.” you trace the letters along his neck, over the tattoo that is engraved on his skin.
you don't need a verbal answer to know that he feels the same way. perhaps, he himself hasn't realized it yet but he's conveyed his love for you many times already. just like now as he continues to lie in bed with you.
the both of you are oblivious, but that doesn't mean that either of you will stop in your tracks, turn back and leave. (even though he sometimes wishes to do so)
both satisfaction and love are two unfamiliar concepts for aventurine. but he'll try to get to know them. for the sake of you.
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xxchumanixx · 25 days
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Thought Contagion
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Bucky Barnes x reader
Summary: After a one night stand he ghosted you. When forced to talk, the lines slowly start to blur. Warnings/Tags: hurt, angst, fluff in the end, mentions of a one night stand, reader has the ability to communicate via thoughts and move objects Word count: 4.397 Authors note: I just love him. Do I need to say more? It's 4 am, and I'm dead. So this might make no sense at all, but hey I somehow managed to write this delusional on tiredness.
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Dr. Raynor's office
The clock on the wall ticked steadily, almost matching your heartbeat.
"Did you dream of him again?" she wanted to know, eyes closely watching you.
"No, I haven't dreamt of him in a long time now... but he contacted me." you gave back, fingers interlocked, fumbling with each other.
"Did he call you? Text?"
"No, he contacted me through my thoughts."
"That he can do?"
"When the will is there, yes."
"There has to be a deep connection between you for him to do that."
"No... not anymore."
"So there was a connection."
"Was. It doesn't exist anymore."
"What happened between you two?"
"We slept with each other. And after he left without me noticing, I never heard of him again."
She nodded to herself, carefully considering what you told her.
"Do you have feelings for him?"
"I've had feelings for him for almost ten years now."
You knew it wasn't right, not like this. When you first saw him, it was at the museum, Steve telling you everything about him. How brave he was, courageous and caring. How he looked after Steve, when no one else was left.
You developed feelings for someone who didn't even exist anymore, at least that was what everyone thought.
Who would have known, that he was still alive, breathing and killing.
"Do you know him this long?" she asked, head tilted.
"No. I met him, after Steve brought him back. I was there, when they brought him to Wakanda and I visited him during his rehabilitation. Then, when Thanos blib'd us, he was gone. And after he returned a few months ago, it just happened. I don't know if it was frustration, after Steve left us, or what else it was, but we lost control for a moment."
"Control over what? Your feelings?"
"He doesn't have any feelings for me."
"Are you sure about that?"
"Why do you think he ghosted me?" you chuckled dryly, brows furrowed as you looked at her like she was an alien.
You had to bite your lip not to snarl at her, send biting words her way. She was only trying to help you, had been for a few months now.
But sometimes, she didn't seem to understand you.
"Maybe because he was scared? Didn't know how to handle his feelings?" she suggested, cocking a brow.
"No, James Barnes doesn't have such feelings - only sadness and anger." you told her, the bitter feeling of guilt stinging on your tongue.
"Was it these feelings, that led to him sleeping with you? His anger, his sadness?"
"A moment of weakness, nothing more."
She wrote something into her notebook, before she tapped her pen on the paper. "What did he want?"
"He wanted me to help him."
You flinched, when suddenly a sharp pain tore through your head.
What the hell?
"Y/N?"
You believed you heard a voice, one that sounded painfully familiar.
"Y/N?" There it was again, and you sighed shakily, feelings starting to mix in a dangerous cocktail. "James?" you answered in a thought, eyes closing, as you tried not to betray your feelings with a quiver of your voice.
It must have taken him a lot to contact you through your thoughts.
You were a telepath, able to communicate via thoughts, as well as moving objects through the air. But it took a lot of willpower, to contact you through your thoughts, especially when it was over such a great distance.
And by someone like James Buchanan Barnes.
"Oh thank god." you heard him mumble, as your belly churned.
After you've spent the night together and he left, you hadn't heard from him. Why would he contact you like that of all ways? Why contact you at all?
"What do you want?" you returned coldly, teeth gritted, as you sat up in bed. You were just about to sleep, already tucked under your covers, when he contacted you.
The anger bubbling up in your stomach made it hard for you to concentrate, but the curiosity was the slightest bit stronger.
"I need your help."
Eyes widening, you fumed. Hands clenched into fists, the books in the bookcase started to rattle, trinkets threatening to tumble over.
Oh, the nerve he had - he had to be fucking kidding you.
"You need my help?" you seethed, not able to contain the angry chuckle that escaped your lips. "You have to be kidding me."
It was silent for a few moments and you started to think he might have cut the connection, when you heard him sigh.
"I-" he started, but was cut off by another voice. "What are you doing?" you heard the voice ask - Sam. "Are you praying or something?"
You could basically hear Bucky's eyes roll in their sockets, as he sighed angrily. "No, I'm not." he retorted, scoffing. "I'm-" he cut himself off this time, most likely rubbing the stubble on his chin. "I'm talking to Y/N."
It was silent for another moment, before you heard Sam again. "How? Where's your phone? Or are you communicating through prayers?"
Rolling your eyes, you shook your head.
"Forgot that she can communicate via thought?" Bucky gave back, sounding fed up. "That's possible?" Sam sounded surprised. "Over this distance? What do you want from her anyways? Thought you guys aren't talking."
Cocking a brow you huffed, and you heard Bucky stutter incoherently, eventually finding his words. "No- I-I mean, yes. We need her help if we want to find them!"
"Find whom?" you wanted to know, scrambling for the laptop that was under your bed, flipping it open, despite your better judgement. "What happened anyways?" Sam questioned, his curiosity getting the best of him.
Since when were they teaming up?
"Did you hear about the group 'Flagsmashers'?" Bucky asked, focusing back on you. "Of course, do you think I live under a rock?" you scoffed in return.
He rolled his eyes, you swear he did.
"Well, they plan something big and we can't find them." he explained, ignoring Sam who was still demanding an answer. "We need satellite pictures or video or whatever. Sharon can't hack into them."
"Sharon?" you retorted, huffing. You hadn't seen her since she had to flee, now knowing why. She must have holed up wherever Sam and Bucky where. "What makes you think I have access to satellites wherever you are?"
He hesitated, as you grew impatient.
"And what exactly makes you think I'd help you?"
He must have been very desperate if he contacted you of all people.
"After all I thought we weren't talking?"
He was frustrated, you could tell. You could feel it seeping into your bones.
"They are killing dozens of innocent people!" he explained, anger and frustration filtering through his voice. "Could you please help us? I wouldn't ask if I had another option."
I wouldn't ask you of all people.
"Already on it." you mumbled, as you were already typing on your laptop, telling yourself you were doing this for the innocent people he mentioned, ignoring your aching heart.
The group he was talking about was all over the news lately, gathering more followers each day. They were a threat, and no matter how much you despised talking to Bucky, you knew you had to help them.
Going through the various pictures, you scanned them for the group. "Found 'em." you announced, zooming in on a picture.
"I'll send Sam the location."
Bucky made a noise like he wanted to protest, say something like 'Why not sent it to me?', but he must have remembered that you weren't talking.
"Thank you." you heard him mutter, before he abruptly cut the connection, leaving you wide awake.
Closing your eyes you tried to hold back the tears. It was pointless crying over him, you did for a while now.
It never changed anything for you.
But, as Bucky was forming a plan with Sam, he could hear it clear as day - the single sob that managed to spill, leaving him wondering if he really heard it, or if he just imagined it.
"Did you help him?" Dr. Raynor asked, brows furrowed. She as well had heard about the group of terrorists, and she had talked to Sam and Bucky not long ago.
"I had to." you retorted, huffing.
"Why? Because he asked you to?"
"Because it was the right thing to do."
"Because of this group they are trying to stop?"
"Yes."
She nodded to herself, biting her cheek.
"How do you feel about John Walker being the new Captain America?"
Your eyes snapped to hers, hands stopping their trembling. "Don't call him that."
"Why not? Doesn't he fit your expectations?"
You chuckled dryly, smirking at her. "My expectations?" you wanted to know, leaning forward with a cocked brow. "Steven Grant Rogers was my best friend. He was my anchor, and when he left, living a life in the past with Peggy Carter, he fulfilled his greatest wish. Do I hate him for leaving me behind? Yes, I do. But I support him and his decision nonetheless. He gave the shield to Sam, who gave it away. Who am I to have expectations, when my biggest hope of someone worthy stepping into these massive footprints has been so utterly disappointed?"
Her forehead creased in thought, tapping the pen on the notebook again. The sound was so familiar already, that you had started to ignore it a long time ago.
"John Walker is said to be a good man. Don't you think he will make a good replacement for Captain America?"
"He can be good all he wants, wear the medals he obtained with pride - but he'll never be like us. The Avengers, people that gave everything for others, never once thinking about ourselves. Did we get any medals when we stopped Thanos? When Tony undid the blib, sacrificing himself? No. My best friend - my sister - died, forcing my dad to forever feel guilty for not dying in her place. Can she be replaced? No. Just as Steve can't be replaced. But Sam was the best option to be the next Cap."
"You're dad?"
"Clint. He took me under his wing almost fifteen years ago. He's the dad I never had."
She nodded, scribbling something down again.
"Will you talk to him again?"
Your brows furrowed, remembering the conversation you had with your dad only this morning.
"James."
Sighing, you leaned back against the cushions again, crossing your arms over your chest.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Why not?" you repeated her words, anger bubbling up yet again, as your eyes widened in disbelieve. "James Buchanan Barnes ghosted me after we had sex, only contacting me to get my help. After that, he ghosted me again. And you're asking why not?"
She heaved a sigh, glancing at her watch only to see that she had another thirty minutes with you.
It wasn't that she didn't like you, but you reminded her of Bucky in your stubborn and deflective ways.
"Maybe you should." she spoke, tilting her head. "Talk to him, demand answers as to why exactly he ghosted you."
Scoffing, you stood, feeling the sudden urge to leave, get the hell out of there.
"Sit." she demanded sharply, the tapping of her pen coming to a halt.
Groaning, you did.
"Why don't you help them in trying to stop this group of terrorists for starters?" she suggested, leaning forwards on her elbows, that were resting on her thighs. "And maybe you can talk to him afterwards."
You laughed at her suggestion, declaring her insane.
But you couldn't deny the aching in your heart at the prospect.
You yearned for his touch, his scent, his voice. The way his fingertips ghosted over your skin, lips brushing over the shell of your ear as he whispered sweet nothings into it, hips connecting with yours over and over again.
Dr. Raynor smirked, like she was able to read your thoughts. She wasn't, though she still seemed to know exactly what you were thinking.
Cheeks reddening, you cleared your throat, deciding that you were in need of another topic.
"How was your weekend?"
____
You hated this.
Why exactly did she manage to convince you to follow them, again?
You were late, seeing as the whole scene was crowded, the Flagsmashers already captured, their leader dead. She was a young girl, barely old enough to drink legally.
You were standing at the rear of the ambulance, watching Sam and Bucky who were stood at the front, backs turned towards you. They didn't know you were there yet, talking to each other.
Your heart was thundering in your chest, and you were scared Bucky could hear it with his super soldier hearing.
You were contemplating if you should turn around and hurry the fuck out of there, but it was too late, when they turned instead, heading towards you.
They hadn't seen you yet, but when Sam looked up, his steps faltered, causing Bucky to look your way as well. He stopped dead in his tracks, jaw slack, before it clenched.
Sam hesitantly closed the distance, whilst Bucky was glued to the spot.
"Hey." he voiced, glancing back at the frozen super soldier. "I'll leave you to talk."
"What if I don't want to?"
"You should."
He patted you on the shoulder, before he left for someone that called out to him.
Your hands trembled, your whole body trembled, as you both stared at each other. Neither of you knew what to say, neither wanting to be the first to speak.
"Should have expected you to turn up here." he muttered, and you scoffed. "Believe me, I'm not here because I wanted to be." you retorted as equally cold, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jacket.
He cocked a brow, mimicking the movement, his arm reflecting the light. "Why are you here then?" he wanted to know, fighting the urge to lean against the ambulance.
He didn't want to come over as relaxed, because he definitely wasn't with you standing in front of him.
Not anymore.
He hadn't expected you to show up, he had hoped you wouldn't.
"I wanted to see if you need more help with the Flagsmashers." you explained, looking past him. "You already helped enough with the location." he returned, unwavering.
Nodding, you bit your lip, looking away.
He was shoving you away, again.
"Well, then I suppose I will go." you spoke, swallowing. "Should have expected not to be welcomed."
You didn't mean to say it out loud, really. It just slipped through somehow.
His brows furrowed, eyes narrowing. "Welcomed?" he asked, taking a step closer as his head tilted. "No one invited you. You didn't need to come."
Huffing, you nodded again.
"Well, and no one invited you." you retorted sharply, looking back up at him. "Yet you came as well, before you left without a word."
His jaw clenched, teeth gritted.
"But hey, lets not talk about it, its not worth mentioning anyways."
You wanted to scratch his ego, your own lying broken in a corner. It worked, as he took another step closer, head tilted. Lowering his voice, he spoke exactly what you were expecting him to.
"Didn't sound not 'worth mentioning' it, considering the way you cried my name out for everyone in the building to hear."
You shivered involuntarily, trying not to let him see, though.
He wasn't wrong, but you wouldn't have him know that.
"Really? Maybe I'm just a good actress."
He scoffed, chuckling dryly.
"Just as good as you're at sneaking out."
He fumed at your words, face hardening. His arm whirred quietly, so hard he must have been clenching his hands into fists.
You stared each other down, as your heart silently begged for you to stop. But you were caught in the moment, caught in your anger and hurt.
When neither of you said anything for a good minute, you shook your head and turned around, starting to walk away.
You should have known he wouldn't talk to you.
"Do you think it was easy?" he shouted after you, causing you to halt in your movement.
"Do you think it was easy? After everything that happened, being turned to dust, returning, only for Steve to leave me behind?"
You turned back around, scoffing. "He didn't leave only you." you reminded him, voice harsh. "He left Sam and I as well. He left us all behind, staying in the past to spend his life with Peggy - the only wish he ever had. He was selfish, yes, but he knew we'd manage."
He shook his head, biting his cheek.
"I failed him."
You couldn't help but laugh, frustration growing thicker. "Why do you think so?"
His eyes were glued to the floor, before he looked back up at you.
"I tried, but I didn't manage." he explained, taking a step closer, partly closing the distance you had created. "I spiraled downwards, losing control. I-" he cut himself off, eyes flitting to the sky above you, as he licked his lips, before he looked back at you.
"I lost the little ounce of control I had left when I let you in." he continued, shaking his head, as he bit down on his cheek, the sting momentarily distracting him from his raging heart. "When we- when we spent that night together, I panicked. I hadn't done something like that since the forties, and I didn't want to drag you down into the hole I was falling into."
You had to swallow, eyes stinging, even though you did your best to ignore it.
"And what about me?" you wanted to know, clearing your throat, as your voice quivered. "What about the hole I was falling into?"
His jaw ticked, and he swallowed.
When he didn't answer, you continued.
"You left me behind, in the moment I was the most vulnerable. I needed you, and you left - as well."
He shook his head, hand brushing through his hair. "You don't need me."
"I shouldn't need you." you corrected him, shaking your head with a frown, as you took a step closer. "When Steve first told me about you, showing me your picture at the museum I knew I was done for. Hell, when you stood in front of me, breathing and not dead, like you were believed to be, I thought I was dreaming. I envied Steve, because he made you sound like the best person on earth."
He scoffed, but didn't interrupt you further, eyes downcast.
"I wanted to get to know you, wanted to see if Steve was right." you continued, fighting a smile, losing. "He was, and when we spent more time together, I started to see what he saw. And then you turned into dust. The whole world tilted, for five years. You were gone, Sam, my dad and my whole family suddenly vanished. And when you returned I was so happy - only for you to leave me again. I know it probably didn't mean anything to you, but for me it did."
You breathed in shakily, stopping your own rambling, heart hammering in your chest, threatening to break through.
"You're wrong." he muttered, swallowing, as he locked eyes with you. "It did mean something to me - it meant the whole world to me. You didn't judge me, no matter what I did. You made me forget. You where there the whole time, accompanying me the whole way. But when Steve-" he choked on his breath, shaking his head with tears glistening in his eyes.
"I lost it. And I couldn't risk bringing you in harms way - my way. I didn't want to hurt you."
Sniffing, you bit on your cheek, almost drawing blood.
"But you did." you whispered, tears making your eyes burn, blurring your sight. "You did, when you pushed me away. You where the only constant I had left, and you pushed me away."
He nodded, sniffing as well. "I know, doll." he spoke, biting his lip. "I know."
Even though you felt a weight lift from your shoulders, it didn't feel as relieving as it should have. A tear fell, but you didn't brush it away.
You fell silent, lost in thought.
Somehow, you just confessed your feelings to him, stripped them bare for him to see. Leaving you even more vulnerable.
Your fingers tapped on your thigh in a nervous habit, wishing you could read Bucky's mind. Even though you were able to communicate via thought, you weren't actually able to read other peoples thoughts.
"Will you forgive me?" he suddenly rasped out, eyes staying a second longer on the ground, before they found yours, hope glistening in them. He sounded so broken, so vulnerable, like you never heard him before.
"Please, Y/N."
You swallowed at the nerves bubbling up, slowly starting to nod. "Yes, Bucky." you breathed out, sniffing. "Yes, I forgive you."
How were you supposed to stay angry at him, after what he just told you? After everything that had happened?
He breathed a sigh of relief, nodding to himself, as his eyes closed for a moment.
A tear slipped past his eyelashes, and he bit his lip. You had only seen him cry once, causing you to inhale shakily at the memory.
He wiped at the salty liquid, before his eyes opened again, his feet taking him closer to you, until he was as close as he was the last time you had seen him in person.
You could smell his familiar cologne, feel the heat his body radiated.
His flesh fingers hesitantly moved, brushing a few stray strands of hair out of your face, softly cupping your cheek. The action made you shiver, goosebumps covering your arms, as you leaned into his warm touch the slightest bit, eyes locked onto his blue ones.
"I'm so sorry, doll." he rasped out, eyes fighting to stay on yours. "I did what I thought was best for you, but I know now, that I was wrong. I'm having nightmares again, but I'm working on it. I'm working on everything, trying to get a bit of the old me back to life - the one Steve had told you all these stories about."
You knew about his nightmares, even though they were different now, thanks to the Dora Milaje who had managed to free him of the Winter Soldier state.
He didn't turn into him anymore, not for the briefest of moments. Something he would forever be grateful for.
"I'm an idiot." he mumbled, eyes leaving yours, his hand leaving your face, falling back at his side with his head downcast. "I never should have left - never should have let this happen. I should have listened to Dr. Raynor."
You cocked a brow at his words, head tilting to somehow meet his gaze. "What do you mean?"
He sighed heavily, swallowing, as his nerves got the best of him. "I mean that I should have talked to you, instead of just leaving you behind." he explained, tongue brushing over his lip, hesitating. "Should have told you how I feel."
You inhaled sharply, hands starting their nervous trembling at your sides again.
"What do you feel?" you managed to breathe out, and his eyes met yours again, the intensity of his gaze stealing your breath.
His lips parted, only for his tongue to wet them again. He searched for the right words, soon giving up and opting for the simpler option instead.
"I love you, Y/N."
Your breathing hitched, heart stumbling, before it doubled its speed.
"You're pure, soft and so lovingly." he continued, hands cupping your face. There the words were. "You never once judged me, not even in my darkest hours. You're the thing that kept me going, made me push through to get rid of the Winter Soldier. I wanted to be better - for you. But I fucked up, so badly. I fell into an old habit, pushing you away so you wouldn't get hurt, but instead I did exactly that: hurting you. And I'm a fucking coward for pushing you away, and not pulling you closer instead, now that I'm actually able to."
Words had left you, only tears managed to spill. He brushed them away with his thumbs, one cold and one warm, yet they were both so soft.
His eyes closed, forehead brushing yours. Your eyes fluttered closed as well, breathing him in.
"Working with Sam on this distracted me enough to forget it for a moment." he spoke quietly, leaving you to wonder how exactly that had happened. "But I was selfish when I contacted you, asking for help. I wanted to hear your voice, even if you would have just shouted at me, telling me to never talk to you again."
You bit your lip, more tears falling.
"I would have never." you told him, eyes squinting, even though they were already closed. "I love you too much."
His body moved abruptly, a sob breaking through his lips. It was one of relief and deep shame.
He nodded, his forehead leaving yours to press kisses to your face. Your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, until he finally met your lips with his own.
You tasted the salty remnants of your combined tears on your lips, but neither of you cared. Hands wrapping around his neck, brushing through his hair, you tugged him closer.
Something wet hit your cheek, but you couldn't tell if it were your tears, or his.
His hands on your cheeks tilted your head back, deepening the kiss. His tongue brushed yours, an action so soft it left you yearning for more.
When his lips left yours, you sighed, eyes slowly opening to meet his blue ones. His lips were kiss swollen, but so were yours.
"He took the shield." Bucky breathed out with shining eyes, fingers dancing through your hair. Nodding, you couldn't help but smile. "I know. Finally."
He chuckled quietly, before his lips connected with yours again.
"Now that this mission is complete, I'm all yours." he promised, forehead meeting yours again. "I won't ever do the mistake of pushing you away again, I promise."
You smiled, feeling the tears return, happy ones this time.
"I'm yours." he repeated, lips meeting your cheek. "I'm yours."
"I know." you returned, eyes fluttering closed.
"And I'm yours."
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