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wongyuseokie · 3 months

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Teardrops On My Guitar | h.j.s

Summary: You loved him, but he was your best friend. While he sometimes blurred the lines, he never saw you more than that. Since he was your best friend and you were so in love, you’d break yourself apart for him. You watched him fall in love with everyone, but you only question for how long? ☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ☁︎ angst | ♕smut | ♥ completed works

Word Count: 19,760 words

Pairings: Joshua Hong x Female Reader Genre/Trope(s)/AU(s): Unrequited Love AU! (don’t say I didn’t warn you; this really won’t be a nice one). Slice of Life AU! Fluff, Angst, Smut (the holy trinity, if you will)

Content Warnings: Yelling, swearing, crying, arguments, toxic coping mechanisms, smut, unprotected sex (don’t do this). Smut Warnings: Fingering, oral (male and female receiving). multiple orgasms, squirting, hand jobs. Body insecurities, bitchy drama from other girls (let's lift each other up). Slut-shaming. Authors Note 1: I think All Too Well was painful for me to write because that was the story about how a relationship that I deemed perfect fell apart, but this one hurts me more because this is a story I hate reliving so much. After all, this is the story of how I fell in love with my best friend and how I never told him (sort of), but now I had to watch him fall in love with everyone but me. This story is a letter to myself back then. I wish I loved myself more back then.

Author’s Note 2: This is a Seventeen rewrite of an old fic of mine, so if it looks familiar, that’s why hehe. Authors Note 3: Thank you so much to the following people for reading this for me @shuadotcom @gyuwoncheol @okiedokrie @wonuvs

High school sucked. It was a universal truth.

But you felt like some days it sucked for you more than it did for others. You felt awkward, you didn’t make friends easily – if ever. You basically had just two friends, while every morning on the school bus, you’d hear chatter about someone getting drunk or kissing someone at a party.

You would have to take a deep breath and pretend you didn’t care. But you didn’t even have enough friends to hold a party, let alone be invited to one. Hell, you couldn’t remember the last time you partied.

You even celebrated your birthday with your parents last year, entering the fifteenth year of your life in your bedroom, watching movies and spending time with your parents. And you didn’t really mind it. You just wished you had someone who wanted to spend time with you.

The worst thing was hearing about other girls your age having lavish birthdays, having their first kiss, and whatnot made you realise that you had no experience of any of that. This sucked completely,considering that everything felt like a competition in high school.

Who could get their first kiss before anyone else? Who could lose their virginity first? Forget virginity; you had never even kissed a guy. A proper kiss. Not a stupid peck, but an adequate kiss – one of those you saw in movies.

You were convinced that the only way you’d ever get your first kiss would be if you were granted a magical makeover where the universe would give you a new face, a slimmer body, and more proportionate features.

Your mother said you were pretty, but what mother wouldn’t? Some stupid boys in your high school took it upon themselves to tell you throughout your entire middle school years how undesirable you were. They would pretend that their eyes burnt if they saw you and they acted like you were Medusa. In some ways, you could relate. You, too, felt like you had a curse that wasn’t your fault either. You tried all the beauty hacks, scrubbing your face with homemade sugar scrubs and buying concealers that were too light to wear, all because you just wanted to be pretty.

Feel a little worthy.

Now that you were older, you knew their hurtful words were untrue. And no, you didn’t suddenly have an epiphany and start believing you were a beauty queen, but you knew not to take such awful comments to heart. Yet, you couldn’t help how they’d sometimes seep into your mind.

However, as you stood outside your dorm room as a fresher at university, you couldn’t help but wish this was your chance to begin again. You had a new start; no one here knew you from high school; you weren’t back in your small town; you were in the city. You could start over.

Your bullies, past, and insecurities didn’t follow you here, so maybe this would be the time you’d finally be able to restart. Get a new lease on life.

“Oof, sorry,” a voice apologised as its owner bumped into you, making you look up from the floor. You were met with dark brown eyes filled with kindness, compassion, and, at this moment, regret for bumping into you.

You looked away from the stranger’s eyes to take him in. He was tall and devastatingly handsome, with a giant grin adorning his handsome face, and you immediately felt like you were thrown back into high school. Guys like him would either mock your appearance or ignore you, pretend you were a wallflower.

Girls like you didn’t get guys like him.

You immediately looked to the ground and mumbled an apology.

“Hey, what are you apologising for? I bumped into you, and I bumped into my flatmate. Nice to meet you. I’m Joshua!” The handsome man introduced himself, holding his hand to you, and you accepted it gingerly as you shook it.

“What’s your name?” Joshua asked.

“Y/N,” you replied.

“Well, I’m excited for fresher’s week! I think it’s so cool that we get to live in co-ed living spaces and get to be adults. I’m also glad that our rooms both have an ensuite, thank fuck. Not the biggest fan of sharing bathrooms,” Joshua rambled, then laughed when he saw your confused expression.

“Sorry, oversharing with my neighbour within a second of bumping into you isn’t the best first impression, is it?” Joshua joked, and you shrugged, shooting him a smile.

“Okay, well, I got to finish moving in, but will you be coming across the hall for the freshers’ party? I have a couple of friends I’m going with, but I’d love for you to join us! Unless you already have plans?” Joshua asked.

You shook your head, stunned. Was this reality?

Someone willingly invited you somewhere, not out of force or school obligation but because they wanted to ask you.

“I’d like that,” you finally answered, making Joshua smile.

“Well, Y/N, apparently freshers have been told to wear comfy footwear, whatever that means, but how about I knock at your door at nine, and we can leave together?” Joshua offered, and you nodded as you hurried back into your room, slamming the door behind you.

You were beyond confused. You had plenty of outfits to choose from, but the one time you wore a skirt to your high school disco, you heard a few comments calling you a try-hard and an attention seeker, so you went home and threw the skirt into the back of your closet never to be seen again. And now, that skirt was in your hands again, reminding you of crappy memories and the fact it was impractical as it had no pockets.

You decided to wear jeans instead. Jeans were a safe option. You chose a black, strappy top with some sequins and threw on a black leather jacket.

The outfit was inspired by several hours of Pinterest-related shopping you did before arriving at university. You wanted a fresh start, which also meant fresh outfits. You wanted everything to be new.

You grabbed your white striped Converse and put them outside, on the floor next to the foot of your university bed, a modest single. You also decided to shower, shave and exfoliate. You didn’t think Joshua would find you remotely attractive, but you wanted to at least feel somewhat pretty.

A couple of hours later, you were putting on your silver hoops when you heard a knock on your door.

“It’s open,” you said and smiled at Joshua as he walked into your room in tight-fitted jeans and a loose black tee tucked in and completed with a black belt.

“You look nice,” Joshua complimented.

You hissed as you poked your ear with your earring at his compliment. “Ouch!” you yelped.

Joshua’s eyes widened as he approached you, taking the earring out of your hand and helping you to put it on. “Did I startle you or something?” he asked, his voice too close to you, breath fanning over your neck.

“I just… I don’t get compliments, so yeah, I guess you did,” you admitted, feeling stupid for admitting something like that to a perfect stranger. He would probably think you were weird now and walk away.

“Well, that’s a shame. You deserve plenty,” Joshua said genuinely as he squeezed your shoulder, smiling widely at you.

And for the first time in so long, you felt like there was hope for your heart, and for you to find and experience everything you never got to in high school.

The void in your heart… maybe Joshua could be one who could fill it.

“Oh, Y/N, by the way! They’re having a flat party. Everyone said that the freshers’ party is usually kind of boring and that nothing much happens. They were talking about things like safe sex, and I’m sure we’re all tired of that conversation from high school,” Joshua joked as you two walked out of your shared dorm and across the hall where you stood as he informed you of the flat party.

“How many people will be there, though?” you asked, feeling insecurity and fear flood your system. You didn’t want a ton of eyes on you in your outfit. You didn’t want to hear the whispers that would inevitably make you curl up and cry into your pillow all night.

“I think twenty, give or take. It’ll be our flat and the one across ours,” Joshua replied, and you pondered over the thought of meeting nineteen new people – people who could judge, mock and make fun of you.

“Hey, you’re my next-door neighbour—well, our doors are opposite one another—you are now my friend, and I’ll keep you protected. If anyone tries shit, I’ll smack them,” Joshua vowed, making you giggle.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, smiling as he watched you giggle.

“I just tried to imagine you even trying to beat someone up,” you replied, wiping the tears of laughter that collected in your eyes, making Joshua laugh at you.

“Oh, but I am fiercely loyal. Trust me, when it comes to protecting those I care about, I’ll fight,” Joshua said seriously.

You nodded, following him across the hall to the other flat as you two walked into the kitchen, where drinks were being poured, and you could tell several people were already quite drunk. You swore you saw a couple exchange a few kisses.

“Hi, we’re from flat 2A! Our flatmates told us about the party!” Joshua introduced himself, and one of the guys, who introduced himself as Jeonghan, approached you and Joshua.

“Well, 2A, welcome to flat 2B! We do have alcohol to spare, but if you want more, you’ll have to bring your own,” Jeonghan explained, the smile never leaving his face, and Joshua nodded as he brandished a bottle of soju from his coat pocket.

“I’ve got us sorted,” Joshua grinned, and Jeonghan smiled again as he welcomed you two.

“Y/N, have a seat next to me. We 2A’s need to stick together,” Joshua joked as he guided you to the black couches, where he helped introduce you to the other students. You exchanged several words with Nia and felt she could be a good friend. She had kind eyes and a soft smile, something you were never used to ever seeing.

“Alright, I’m bored. Can we play a drinking game? It’s the easiest way to get to know one another,” another girl, whose name you couldn’t recall, complained, immediately grinning when everyone agreed.

You could see she had no actual malice. She just wanted to party. Not everyone you’d meet in life would be your high school bully. This was something you’d have to remind yourself of during every interaction.

“Okay, what do you want to play, Nia?” Jeonghan asked as he joined her.

“Truth or dare! But take a shot if you want to skip the dare or truth?” Nia suggested.

Everyone nodded–including you, even if your heart beat wildly in your chest. What if someone asked you something like if you were a virgin? You’d lie, but the stammering would give it away. Then again, you had been a wallflower all your life. No one would ever pick you, you convinced yourself as you took a large sip of Jeonghan’s concoction.

It tasted more like he poured pure alcohol in and sprinkled in some diet coke to mask the fact he did not know how to mix a damn drink, but it was a drink you were thankful for. It gave you a nice buzz, lowering your inhibitions and fears.

“Okay,” Jeonghan said after three rounds. Everyone had a pretty good buzz, and the questions and dares were getting more unfiltered and scandalous with each game. “Joshua, I dare you to give Y/N a peck on the lips,” Jeonghan said smugly, making you gulp and swallow the remainder of your drink.

As you sighed, you didn’t think the party would come to this, but you realised you were fooling yourself. People would always care about this, and you didn’t fancy being a laughingstock.

“Wait, Y/N, where are you going?” Jeonghan asked, genuine concern lacing his voice. Joshua stood up, shooting Jeonghan a slight glare.

“I just, uh, want to go to bed; you know the alcohol has hit me,” you mumbled quickly as you nearly ran out of the flat and straight back to yours. You rushed into your room, taking a seat on your bed as you took deep breaths.

It was okay; he wouldn’t remember any of this tomorrow, and you’d avoid it if needed.

“You should lock your door, you know,” Joshua’s voice startled you as you stood up from your bed at his sudden presence.

“Can I talk to you?” he asked, and you nodded, knowing there was nowhere to run.

Then again, there was that large window… But if you leapt out of it, you’d fall into a bush of poison ivy, so you decided to take the scarier option of engaging in conversation.

“I’m sorry if Jeonghan went too far with that dare,” Joshua apologised as he sat down on your bed, and you sighed, shaking your head, joining him.

“No, it’s just… I didn’t want to make you feel repulsed by doing something you didn’t want to do,” you admitted.

Joshua turned to face you. “That’s the last thing I’d feel if I kissed you. You’re so beautiful. Anyone would be lucky to kiss you,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I wouldn’t know what to do,” you admitted, causing him to smile softly at you.

“May I?” Joshua asked, and your breath hitched, knowing what he meant, “not because I feel obliged, but because I want to,” he added, and you finally nodded, making him smile as he moved closer to place his soft lips on yours.

You didn’t know what to do, so you followed his movements, the way he moved his mouth ever so slowly against yours. He was kissing you like you were made of glass, and it made you feel like you were a crystal sculpture.

Fragile yet beautiful, his kiss made you feel worthy. Joshua smiled as he pulled away.

“Wow,” you whispered.

“Wow?” he asked, and you nodded.

“I’ve never had a kiss like this, just a stupid peck. But this one felt like a real kiss, so yeah… this one felt nice,” you admitted as Joshua nodded. “Sorry if I didn’t know what I was doing or it sucked, though, I just—oomph,” your rambling was cut off by his lips as they pressed against yours again.

You felt him smirk against your lips as he pulled away slowly. “You were fine,” Joshua clarified, and you nodded at him. “Look, the party isn’t over, and more people have joined. I think they’re playing music, and they’ve dimmed the lights, so if you want, we can go back?” he offered, smiling at you.

You hesitated.

“Or I can grab another bottle of soju, and we can put a movie on? Or I can leave you alone?” Joshua offered.

You smiled at him. “How about a movie?” you chose.

Joshua nodded with a grin. “Be right back! Let me go get the bottle of soju from my room. You pick the movie, but nothing horror,” he added as he left your room.

You smiled in his wake.

This was your new beginning. You could start afresh.

Two weeks in, lectures had started. Joshua had become your partner in crime, your closest friend. You had also grown closer to Jeonghan and Nia; they had become part of your little friendship group, and you felt wanted and included for the first time.

You felt needed, seen, and appreciated. It was everything you ever wanted.

“Yo!” Joshua yelled, barging into your room one evening while you were reviewing your lecture material for the following day.

“Do you bother knocking anymore?” You chuckled, shaking your head as Joshua got comfortable on your bed, kicking off his shoes as he lay down.

“No. Friends don’t bother with formalities,” he told you smugly, making you roll your eyes at him.

“Why are you here, anyway? I thought you and Jeonghan wanted to go to a social?” you asked him.

“Yes, but apparently, Jeonghan and Nia decided to go on a date or something, I don’t know,” he mumbled, making your eyes widen.

“Wait, what?” you exclaimed, and Joshua shrugged.

“I don’t know. Nia didn’t give me a straight answer, just kept blushing, and Jeonghan just smirked,” he answered as he shrugged off his leather jacket and threw it to the floor.

“Shua, are you planning on crashing or something?” you asked, putting your pen down and turning to face him, and he grinned at you.

“Come on, it’s movie night,” Joshua whined playfully, making you smile.

“Oh, shut up, you’re only here because Jeonghan ditched your ass, and I’m the second choice,” you joked, but you couldn’t help the thread of insecurity that weaved its way into you.

“See, normally, I’d let that slide, but I know you might take that to heart. Hey, I live across the hall from you, and you’re one of my closest friends here, okay? I don’t want you ever to think that you’re my second choice,” he assured you softly as he got up to wrap his arms around you.

That was a new thing you got used to: Joshua’s extreme affection - his need to touch and feel loved through the act of touch. It was new to you, but you weren’t entirely mad either. It felt nice being wanted and being a source of comfort to him.

“Now, stop doodling flowers on your lecture notes and join me. I want to watch something,” he teased, and you nodded, smiling shyly as you saw the flowers etched into your work.

“Shall we do a Pixar night?” He then suggested.

“Always,” you smiled, nodding as you joined him on the bed.

As you sat down, Joshua immediately pulled you to his side. Soon enough, he was curled into you as he held you during the movie, either babbling nonsense or pointing out things you never knew existed in the film. You loved that about him, you thought to yourself. You loved his ability to see the beauty in everything.

You paused as you stared blankly at the screen.

Was that it? Did you love him?

Were you falling for your best friend?

The man who took you seriously for once and made you feel seen, were you falling in love with him?

You knew you were falling for the man who could see the beauty in everything.

You wondered hard that night… would he be able to see the beauty in you?

“So, how was your date with Jeonghan then?” you asked Nia, who had just sat across you with her breakfast.

She shook her head. “It wasn’t a date. I needed to talk to Jeonghan, that’s all,” Nia explained, and you nodded at her.

“You two would make a cute couple, though?” You joked, earning a scoff from Nia.

“What would you know about relationships? Aren’t you forever single or something?” she snapped at you out of nowhere, making you feel like all your progress with your friends over the past month crumbled in a second.

“I…” You opened your mouth to defend yourself until you realised Nia was right. You were no one to give anyone any relationship advice.

“That’s what I thought. So keep your comments to yourself. Just because you kissed Joshua once does not mean you know a thing,” she added unnecessarily, her words pouring more salt into the wounds you kept so hard to keep closed.

Why did Nia know that Joshua had kissed you? And why was she using it as an insult? Did she find it laughable, or did Joshua embellish the story and tell them that he only ever kissed you because you were like a wounded puppy, and he felt sorry for you?

“I need to go,” you mumbled before speeding away, feeling nauseous as you returned to the dorms.

Would Joshua ever hurt you like that? You didn’t think so, but guys like him were never meant to be with girls like you.

“Yo, what’s up?”

You heard Joshua’s voice as you walked into the standard room, and instead of reacting like you usually did, you ducked out of the room and ran to your own. Just as you were about to close the door, Joshua’s large hand pushed between the space and wedged himself into your room.

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” he asked.

You sighed, not realising that the tears had fallen down your face. “Nothing,” you mumbled weakly, earning an eye roll from Joshua as he grabbed your books out of your hands and placed them on your desk.

He then held your hand as he walked you to your bed and sat you down. “What happened? I know something did. I’ve seen your happy tears, and these aren’t them. What’s wrong?” he repeated, his hands moving to cup your face.

“Fuck, Shua! How did Nia know about us kissing that night?” you burst out, making Joshua frown.

“Fuck, I was talking to Jeonghan. I didn’t think he’d blab to her. Why, what did she do?” he asked.

“I just… I was teasing her about Jeonghan and her going on a date, and she got annoyed. So I thought to diffuse the tension, I’d joke and say that she and Jeonghan would make a cute couple. She lashed out at that. She asked me what I would ever know about relationships, as I’m a forever single girl. Then, when I couldn’t say anything, she said, “Just because I kissed you, I shouldn’t assume that I know anything,” you admitted, feeling more tears falling down your face as you recalled the comments.

“What the fuck? Why would she say that? Listen, you can always give relationship advice without being in one, okay? I’ll find out what’s wrong with her, but what she said is so beyond fucked up,” Joshua snarled. You could tell he was angry.

“That’s not necessary, Shua. But… I want to know why Jeonghan even knew about the kiss,” you mumbled.

Joshua frowned as he sat down next to you. “I’m sorry. We were just chatting, and it slipped,” he apologised.

“Well, you should be more careful. It’s not fucking okay to do that,” you muttered.

Joshua’s eyes widened at your tone. “Why? Is it embarrassing to kiss me?” he accused, and you stared at him in shock.

“Oh, don’t even go there. You know I’m the one people laugh at and look at funny. The one everyone knows got a pity invite. And now they all probably think that you kissed me out of pity, too, and now they’re laughing at me!” you ranted, making Joshua scoff at you.

“I don’t know that much. You don’t let me in about a lot in your personal life or your past, but no one pities you here. No one thinks that—only you do,” Joshua commented, making you feel small.

“We all have a past, and I’m not trying to fucking invalidate yours, but you need to get over whatever happened to you in high school. This is a fresh start, so instead of victimising yourself every chance you get, maybe get out of that self-pity bubble you’ve trapped yourself in and realise that people might give a fuck about you! But if you keep wallowing and crying over stupid shit like this, then no one will want to be your friend for real,” he huffed out.

When you didn’t speak, Joshua looked up to see how you looked even more devastated than when you came in initially crying over Nia’s comments; he had made you cry more.

“Y/N—” Joshua started to say, but you shook your head at him.

“You’re right. I’m being a pain in the ass,” you mumbled, making Joshua groan.

“That’s not what I’m trying to say, but if that’s how you keep taking it, then sure, you might as well be,” he added, and you nodded.

“Can you leave? I have an assignment due tomorrow,” you mumbled, getting off your bed and walking to your desk, turning your back to Joshua, making it clear you wanted to be left alone.

Joshua felt like a complete moron. He knew he was being a dick, but he didn’t like how you spoke in riddles. He didn’t like that. He wanted proper sentences, and you gave him emotion but no real problem.

Joshua tossed and turned in his bed that night. What was your past? Why were you always suspicious of anyone who wanted to be your friend? Why were you always so guarded?

He didn’t bother taking the time to look at the clock. Instead, he jumped out of bed and out of his room across the hall and pounded on your door until you opened it, glaring at him.

“You could have woken up the entire fucking flat,” you hissed as you let him in.

“Tell me,” Joshua breathed out, and you stared at him, confused.

“Tell you what?” you asked.

“What happened in your past?” He asked as he sat on your bed, immediately getting comfortable under your blanket.

“Didn’t you, just like, a few hours ago, oh, I don’t know, tell me to not wallow in my sadness and that I should get over it?” you mocked.

Joshua sank, shaking his head for a second and holding his hand to you. “Sit. Tell me. Look, I was careless with my words. I just wanted you to stop feeling terrible. But instead of saying that or taking measures to ensure that, I lashed out. I don’t like seeing people sad, but I can be quite clueless when helping them out,” Joshua admitted. You nodded, sitting on the bed but not taking his hand to make a point.

“I don’t know what it was about me, whether it was my hair, skin or whatever… Maybe I had a goofy smile? And I guess no one liked that? Maybe? I don’t know. All I know is that the kids in my school suddenly decided that I wasn’t worth being friends with,” you started out, struggling to keep your voice steady as you recalled your painful memories, opening old wounds that you had only wrapped in gauze, never adequately healing them.

“All these students… they would never include me in games or let me sit at their table during lunch, so I’d play alone, eat alone. And then, one year, a group of guys thought it’d be great to act like I was so hideous that they’d cover their eyes for fear of being burned by my ugly face or something,” you mumbled.

You noticed Joshua’s jaw clench out of the corner of your eyes.

“That went on for a year, the calling me ugly things, but the general feeling and act of being excluded from everything happened and continued until the last day of school. If I’m being honest, everyone just acted as if I inconvenienced them, so I carry that, Shua. I assume I’m always a burden no matter where I go.”

“I fucking hate that, but, and I ask this not to blame you, but out of genuine curiosity and concern, did no one know?” Joshua asked.

You sighed.

“Teachers weren’t blind. They knew, but if no one was physically attacking me, they kept their mouths shut. I told a counsellor, and her advice to me was that I should seek compassion for those who bully me because they’re probably victims of bullying themselves,” you scoffed, recalling the god-awful advice the counsellor gave you.

“What about your parents?” Joshua asked, and you shook your head.

“Never, no. I mean, I’m sure they guessed. I never had any birthday parties, but I didn’t want to tell them,” you mumbled.

“Why?” Joshua asked, and you shrugged.

“I felt stupid because everyone else in school could make friends; they could go a full day without being bullied or mocked or made fun of, and I couldn’t, and I didn’t want to burden them,” you admitted, letting out a muffled sob.

“They’re your parents; they wouldn’t think you’re being a burden. You’re their daughter,” Joshua offered, and you shrugged.

“I wore a skirt to a school disco once, and all the others could do was point out how funny I looked. Everything and anything I did in school, I felt like a hundred eyes watching me, waiting for me to fuck up,” you explained, taking a deep breath.

“All through school, I lived like that, so forgive me for being cautious when a new guy—especially a guy like you—openly welcomes me as his friend,” you mumbled, making Joshua quirk his brows at you.

“A guy like me?” Joshua asked.

“A hot and handsome guy. A guy like you would be the boyfriend of one of the pretty girls, someone like Nia. You’d be with her, and you two would give me sickly sweet smiles before laughing at me the minute my back was turned, and I – I guess I know you’re not that kind of a person, but when Nia snapped at me and used the fact you kissed me as an attack… it felt like that I was back in high school,” you admitted.

“I see,” Joshua said before turning you around to face him. “I’m going to ask you something, and you need to be honest with me, okay?” Joshua asked. You nodded. “Did you think I was mocking you when I told Jeonghan we kissed?” he asked.

You nodded slowly. “I know you wouldn’t, but… I have a past where guys that looked like you and Jeonghan would mock me, and girls like Nia would get guys like you while I sat on the sidelines and watched,” you reasoned, and Joshua nodded.

“You’ve survived a lot, and I’m sorry you even had to go through it in the first place, but please know one thing: I’m not going to ever hurt you like that,” Joshua said, kissing your hand softly.

“I kissed you that night because I wanted to, not because I felt pity or anything. Girls like Nia… I don’t know what to make of that sentence, but I kissed you, not her. I find you beautiful, and I’ll gladly go blue in the face repeating it to you,” Joshua proclaimed, making you smile.

“It’s not out of pity either. I wish you could see yourself the way I do one day,” he inched forward.

“Can I?” He finally asked.

You nodded, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt his soft lips on yours. Moments later, Joshua pulled away and smiled at you.

“You’re beautiful. And I hope you’ll understand that every time I kiss you, it’s not because I have an ulterior motive but because I want to.”

You didn’t know how to respond, so you simply blushed and smiled at him, nodding.

“Now cuddle me. I want to sleep, and I know you don’t have an assignment tomorrow, considering you messaged me saying freedom in capitals,” Joshua joked as he pulled you into his arms.

You couldn’t help but melt at the fact that he remembered that little detail that would haunt you and make you overthink everything Joshua would ever do.

You had never slept next to a boy before. Let alone wake up with his arms wrapped around your waist and his leg thrown over yours. But here you were the following day – laying in Joshua’s vice-like embrace.ou moved slightly to get up, and you thought you were successful until you heard Joshua let out a soft moan.

You froze. You were sure that was just a regular moan he would let out in his sleep until he moved his leg, and you felt his hardness against your inner thigh. You might have never felt the touch of another pair of lips on yours until a month ago, but you weren’t an idiot. You could tell an erection when you felt one. You knew Joshua was turned on. But then again, you recalled reading that sometimes men just get hard for no reason.

That was it, you thought to yourself. It wasn’t because he was attracted to you; it was simply because there was a concept known as ‘morning wood’, and Joshua was prominently exhibiting it. Still, you couldn’t help feeling butterflies in your stomach. You couldn’t help the arousal you felt start to pool in your panties.

You were a virgin, not a moron; you knew what was happening to you. And you needed Joshua to leave as soon as possible so that you could take care of the problem he caused.

“Joshua,” you mumbled, trying to move away from him, which only made him move against you more, allowing his length to brush against your inner thigh over and over. He was incredibly long, is what you gathered. Very well endowed.

“Stop moving,” Joshua mumbled sleepily as he pulled you tighter to him, moving his hips again as his length brushed against you, this time dangerously close to your aching cunt. You knew you needed to stop him before it escalated, and he regretted it.

“Shua!” you yelped, pinching him, making him groan as he jolted awake, glaring at you as you broke free from his embrace.

“Woman, will you let me sleep?” Joshua complained, his morning voice doing nothing to ease the ache in your pussy. It was so husky and deep… You wanted that voice to wake up to every morning for the rest of your life.

“Not until that goes away!” you blurted out, making Joshua look at you funny until he followed your gaze down to his cock–his very hard cock.

“Oh fuck! Well… this is just a normal thing,” Joshua said, chuckling, and you knew you hated how that made you feel. You wished to be the reason to arouse him, but he chalked it up to biology. “If I’m not out of line in saying this, you would also cause a similar problem, and holding you in my arms like that last night… felt nice. So I’m sure my body was showing its appreciation in ways I didn’t,” he explained further, making you look down at the duvet with a stupid smile adorning your face.

“Joshua, if you need to take care of it, you should do it. I don’t know what to do,” you mumbled quickly, earning a nod from Joshua.

“Wait, ever?” Joshua asked, hating how incredulity laced his voice.

“No. You don’t need to sound so shocked,” you mumbled, feeling defensive.

“I’m not; I’m sorry, it’s the ass crack of dawn, and my brain is barely functioning,” Joshua defended.

You rolled your eyes at him. “And yet your cock was nestled in my ass crack,” you teased, your eyes widening in horror when you realised what you said.

“Did you like it?” Joshua suddenly asked; his demeanour changed as he leaned back against the wooden headboard, making you gulp.

His erection was more prominent with this slight adjustment.

“I asked you a question. Did you like my cock rubbing against you,” Joshua repeated, this time his eyes burning into yours, and you knew you couldn’t lie.

“What am I meant to say? I’m human,” you replied lamely, hoping it’d give him enough of an answer for him just to drop it.

“So, it turned you on?” Joshua asked instead.

You glared at him. “Why do you want to know?”

Joshua smiled at you, admitting, “Because to think you are turned on… it’s fucking hot,”

You wanted to yell but bit your lip to avoid verbalising your thoughts.

“It’s even hotter knowing that I’m the reason behind it,” he added, and you kept staring at the duvet.

“You should go,” you said abruptly, making him look at you in confusion.

Even you weren’t entirely sure why you said that.

Well, you did know why you didn’t want to be intimate with him: for fear that he’d take one look at what you had to offer and be repulsed. You’d be led to believe so what would stop him?

“If I overstepped,” he started to say, and you shook your head and held your hand out to him.

“You didn’t! Just go!” you rushed, getting off the bed, indicating to Joshua that he, too, should leave.

“I’ll catch you later?” Joshua quietly offered, and you nodded, waving to him awkwardly as he walked out of your room.

You let out a breath you were holding after he left.

You shook your head, cursing yourself for kicking him out, but you knew you did the right thing. Joshua, just like any other man, had eyes and would be disgusted once he saw what you hid under your clothes.

Later that day, you walked into your lecture hall, cursing, when you saw that the only empty seat left was the one next to Nia. You sighed as you moved to sit down next to her, and she hesitated for a second before moving her bag down to the floor allowing you to sit next to her.

“Hey,” you mumbled.

You weren’t entirely sure why you were trying to converse with her when she had been rude to you, but you didn’t have many friends. This meant you didn’t have very high standards or understand boundaries.

“Hi,” Nia replied. Her tone was clipped.

You assumed it was because she didn’t want to be disruptive during a lecture. She gave you a tight-lipped smile before returning to the front of the screen.

“Y/N, hold up,” Nia called after you as you started to walk out of the lecture theatre once the professor had dismissed everyone. “Thanks for ratting me out to Joshua, by the way,” she taunted, and your eyes widened.

“Look, I’m sorry for what I said to you. That was really shit. But you ran to Joshua, who then told Jeonghan, and then Jeonghan took it upon himself to lecture me about being kind to one another for twenty minutes. Either way, I shouldn’t have said what I said, so this is my apologies.

“We good?” Nia asked, and you nodded.

Not understanding what boundaries meant and not having many friends made you realise that your bar for human decency could have been higher. They needed to be higher. You knew that what Nia said to you was barely an apology. It was more of an “I’m sorry you got offended” apology, a shallow apology usually reserved for celebrities and their notes app.

“It’s fine, I’m sorry, it’s just that Joshua caught me crying that day, and I guess I ended up telling him everything,” you rambled, biting your tongue, realising that you should have done it sooner, for it would have prevented you from oversharing.

Your bond with Joshua was sacred; you didn’t want any other girl or anyone to come in between that. You knew it was selfish and childish, but he held your entire life in his hands, and he didn’t know it.

“So, are you two close friends then?” Nia asked as you two walked down the hall to the quad.

“Yes,” you confirmed. You were shy about most things, but not this. You were his friend, one of his closest.

“Then, do you know if he’s currently got his eyes on anyone?” Nia asked, her tone lowering slightly and your eyes widening at her question.

“Wait, what?” you asked, and Nia smiled at you, the kind of smile that reminded you of the girls in school who called you pretty – only to say that you were pretty ugly.

“Oh, I’m just screwing with you. He’s hot, but don’t worry. I don’t need your advice to get him. Besides, he and I have already kissed once,” Nia casually stated, making your heart sink.

“What? When?” you asked, your voice a mere whisper.

“Oh, you know, the night you chickened out for the dare to get pecked by Joshua? Someone dared him to kiss me after you left, and he did. I have to say I wanted to know what else he could do with his mouth,” Nia chuckled, making you feel like your stomach was twisting.

You needed to leave.

You couldn’t hear this.

“I have to rush back, but I’ll catch you later?” you rushed, and Nia smirked, nodding and sending you a sickly-sweet smile.

You were beyond thankful that your feet still moved because your mind was starting to malfunction and short-circuit.

Joshua kissed you after he kissed Nia. That meant it was a pity kiss. And not only that, you were so taken away by the sweet cherry taste on his lips. Now it hit you that the taste was not only cherry but also peach, and it wasn’t his lip balm. It was hers.

Joshua had kissed you without even bothering to remove the evidence that he kissed Nia minutes ago.

But it wasn’t his fault, you thought. You were so desperate to be loved and feel the intimacy – to feel a proper kiss, the kind of kisses your friends bragged about – that you didn’t care that your first proper kiss was not only a pity kiss but that you also tasted another woman’s lip balm with it.

You felt so stupid.

Joshua had lied to you about what the kiss meant and failed to tell you that he kissed Nia. But then again, he was under no obligation to tell you anything. Where his lips went was not your business. You weren’t his girlfriend. You were just his friend.

“Y/N, keep storming around like that, and you’ll burn a hole into the rug,” Joshua joked, his voice interrupting your thoughts when you realised that while you were busy ripping yourself to shreds, you reached back to the dorms. “Oh, by the way, I got something I want to show you. Can I show you in your room?” he asked excitedly.

You couldn’t help the jealousy, bitterness, and anger that overtook your following words. “Sure, but are you sure that you didn’t show Nia first and are putting on an act now, pretending to show me?” you spat at him, taking Joshua aback.

“Run that by me again?” he asked, and you scoffed as you opened your room door. Joshua walked in behind you, making you glare at him.

“You kissed Nia that night. The night you kissed me, the first night. You kissed her and then kissed me,” you mumbled, hating how vulnerable and weak you sounded at this moment.

Joshua kept going from being your safe space to a man who toyed with your feelings.

“I, fuck, how did you find out?” he asked, running his hand over his face and letting out a deep exhale, and you stared at him.

“You’re not going to deny it?” you asked, and Joshua shrugged.

“I’m not going to lie to you,” he offered bluntly, making you scoff.

“You had no problem lying to me that night,” you countered, and Joshua shook his head at you.

“I didn’t lie. I omitted a fact. But yeah, you’re right. Why did this conversation even occur? What did Nia say, exactly?”

You sighed at Joshua’s questions. “Doesn’t matter. The point is that you kissed me after you kissed her,” you mumbled.

Joshua frowned as he inched closer to you to place his hands on your face, making you look at him. “Why does that matter?” he asked so innocently that you felt like you couldn’t even be upset.

But you were. “Because I was a consolation kiss! You might not see it that way, but I fucking do, Joshua! I do. And you know what? It fucking sucks to know that you only kissed me because you felt bad for me. You kissed me after kissing the pretty girl, too, to what? Show that you’re capable of charity?” you accused.

Joshua groaned. “I get your past, and I get why it’s making you lash out in the ways it is, but you cannot compare everything I do to the people who fucked you over in the past! I’m not one of them,” Joshua defended, earning a dry laugh from you.

“Really? Because you are sure as shit fucking me over like them. I don’t want you kissing me or saying lewd things when you get hard from cuddling me because you think it’s easy to fuck with my feelings. I might not have any experience with all this, Joshua, but I have plenty of experience with being hurt and fucked over. You’re not the one I expected it to come from, though,” you spat back.

Joshua just sighed. “Look, come find me when you want to talk like an adult. But if every little piece of gossip sets you off like this, I cannot keep up,” Joshua announced as he stormed out of your room.

It was only your room he left… so why did it feel like he walked out of your life and broke your heart with the door as it slammed shut behind him?

You didn’t talk to Joshua for two weeks.

You’d bump into him often. How could you not? He stayed across from you, and it was hard to avoid your neighbour. Except it seemed like he would go out of his way to ignore you and express his disdain for you.

At first, you assumed you were being dramatic, just like Joshua would call you dramatic. Maybe he, too, realised he wanted nothing to do with you, just like everyone else.

“Penny, for your thoughts?” the guy suddenly asked you one day when you returned from your lecture.

“You’re talking to me now?” you asked, puzzled. Joshua smiled, nodding.

“I thought I wasn’t enough of an adult?” you snapped, making Joshua wince as you unlocked your door.

However, he still followed you inside your room, making you narrow your eyes at him.

“I didn’t realise I invited you in?” you asked, and he frowned, looking down at his feet.

“I know I did something shitty to you, and it’s even worse because I wasn’t an adult myself. Hell, I stormed out of your room,” Joshua admitted, chuckling, and you sighed deeply at him.

“I know I was too much. I just have a past,” you mumbled, and Joshua nodded.

“I’m not trying to negate it, Y/N, but at some point you need to move past it. You have a clean slate to do whatever you want; why don’t you take advantage of that?” Joshua offered, and you nodded at him.

“I know, and I get it. But with my past, Shua, I just – I let it haunt me so much that I end up struggling to believe that anyone could ever like me for me,” you admitted, and Joshua frowned as he moved to stand in front of you, his tall frame dwarfing you.

“I’m so sorry that I was not more understanding. Truly, I am. I should have been, fuck. I just let my immaturity get the best of me,” Joshua apologised, and you shook your head at him.

“We’re both learning. You have no reason to apologise to me. I’m serious. You don’t,” you admitted, and Joshua smiled softly at you as he wrapped you in a tight embrace.

“How about we blow off steam at the party that Jeonghan’s flat is hosting?” Joshua offered.

“I don’t know, the last party did nothing but cause drama, or rather, I overreacted,” you mumbled softly, making Joshua shake his head at you.

“Your reactions are valid. Please don’t let me or anyone take that away from you,” Joshua comforted you, making you smile softly at him.

“So, what’s the occasion of this party?” you asked, and Joshua shrugged.

“I honestly don’t know, and I quote Jeonghan on this: who needs a reason? A party is a party,” Joshua chuckled, making you smile along with him. “Come on, go get ready, and we can go!” Joshua cheered, making you smile at him. “Look, we’re going to have ups and downs in our friendships. Isn’t that normal? But I promise I’ll keep the dramatic storming out of rooms to a minimum,” he joked, making you nod at him.

“What should I wear?” you asked, making Joshua grin.

“Whatever you feel comfortable in,” he answered, making you swoon at his answer.

It was a simple statement, but he never pressured you to look a certain way. But you still let your demons get the best of you.

Was the reason why he didn’t deem it necessary to tell you to wear something nice that, regardless of what you wore, he’d never consider you attractive, so it didn’t matter?

“I can hear you overthinking. I’m saying wear something comfortable because it’s a flat party, not because I think you can’t pull off something else. I know you can. Hell, if you want to wear a dress and heels tonight, I support it, but I know you won’t be comfortable in it, not at a house party,” Joshua rationalised, calming the demons in your mind and making you nod and smile at him.

“Sorry,” you gave him a sheepish smile, and Joshua shook his head at you.

“Stop apologising for how you feel,” he said as he moved to open your wardrobe.

“Oh, what about this? It’s sparkly?” Joshua beamed as he handed you a sparkly green top.

You bought it on a whim once; it was what all the pretty girls in the magazines wore, it was what all the cute girls wore, and you just thought that if you wore that, you too would be pretty.

“It’s stunning, and I think it’d make you sparkle and look like a mermaid,” Joshua laughed.

“Mermaids are attractive?” You asked, taking the green top from him.

“Listen, Ariel is fucking hot,” he declared, making you laugh.

“She nearly gave up everything for a guy. A guy who she knew nothing about, and all because he was handsome,” you mumbled.

“Not a Little Mermaid Fan?” Joshua asked, and you shook your head.

“Not a fan of how much she gave up for him,” you mumbled, and he nodded, sensing that if he didn’t divert your attention somewhere else, this conversation would take a very gloomy turn.

“To be fair, and I’m just assuming here, it wouldn’t be easy to sustain a relationship with a damn fish,” Joshua said knowingly, making you laugh.

“Okay, get out, you fish expert. I need to get ready,” you joked, pushing Joshua towards your door, and he nodded.

“Be ready in about thirty minutes?” Joshua offered, and you nodded.

You were done with your shower, and as you walked out, you almost liked what you saw in the mirror.

Almost.

You wore the sparkly green top, paired it with black jeans, and wore your stripped Converse. You dusted a light wash of makeup on your face and some mascara on it then reached for the peach-flavoured gloss and dabbed your lips with a small amount before smiling in the mirror.

“Ready?” You heard Joshua yelling obnoxiously outside your door, making you cringe at him.

“You’re insufferable,” you giggled as you opened the door, laughing at him.

Your laughter stuck in your throat when you took in Joshua’s appearance.

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” Joshua giggled, making you glare at him.

“You look good, okay,” you huffed, making Joshua smile.

“Likewise. Shall we go? Jeonghan’s been texting me. Oh, by the way, Nia will be there,” Joshua said, his voice softening as he spoke her name.

“Shua, I can manage. She might have just been having a bad day. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s fine. It’s all in the past,” you said, not meaning it entirely, but Joshua was right. You couldn’t live your entire life crying at every upsetting situation.

“If she steps out of line, I’ll put her back in place, I promise,” Joshua added, and you smirked at him.

“Kinky,” you joked before slapping a hand over your mouth, your eyes widening in shock at what you said.

“Oh, do you want to find out?” Joshua teased, making you look down shyly.

“Come on, Jeonghan is waiting,” you said shyly as you dragged him across the hall to flat 2B.

You didn’t see it then, and how you wish you did because your words lit a fire of envy in Joshua, one he could not douse and one that ended up ruining the night.

The house party was going quite well, there were no silly dares and no bitchy comments, but you couldn’t place your finger on Joshua’s behaviour. The entire night, he was distant and standoffish with you.

Hell, he was chatting with Nia for a fair bit, but you chalked it up to the fact that you were a chronic over-thinker and that Joshua didn’t necessarily mean to do what he did with the intent of hurting you.

“I like your top, by the way,” Jeonghan said rather loudly and drunkenly, and you smiled, thanking him.

“Oh, thank you. Actually, Joshua helped pick it out,” you answered, and you saw Joshua smile warmly at you. He was about to respond when Nia spoke before him instead.

“Why? You can’t choose your outfits or something?” Nia mocked, earning a couple of chuckles from what you could only guess were her minions.

“I…” you mumbled, lost.

Joshua was about to speak, but something stopped him. That something was Jeonghan, who shot daggers at Nia, making her roll her eyes.

“Anyways, I was promised games, and all we’ve done is drink and make small talk,” Nia complained, and Jeonghan nodded slowly.

“Get the cards then, and we can start playing,” Jeonghan said as he turned to face you.

“You look beautiful, don’t listen to her. She has this bitchy persona, but she’s actually nice. Just got to get past the ice-cold persona,” Jeonghan mumbled to you.

You smiled at him before noticing how Joshua smiled at Nia and whatever she whispered.

Didn’t he say he’d set Nia straight if she spoke out of turn? So why didn’t he?

“Alright, we’re just playing snap but with dares and forfeits if you don’t do your dare,” Nia explained once one of her friends brought her a deck of cards to her.

It was quite an easy game, and the night was progressing smoothly. Nia hadn’t made a single snide comment, and thankfully, your speed made you avoid some stupid dares.

“Oh! Joshua, you lost that round. You have to complete a dare!” One of Nia’s friends squealed, making you wince.

“Ugh, I knew it. What do I have to do?” Joshua asked, smiling. You felt your heart starting to pound in your chest.

“Make out with Nia. I know you guys only kissed, but this time, a proper make out,” Nia’s friend suggested, making your heart fall into your stomach with her suggestion.

Surely, he wouldn’t say yes.

“Sure, why not?” Joshua chuckled as he turned to face Nia, who shot you a smirk before meeting to place her lips on his, earning a few wolf whistles and cheers from the others in the room as they kissed.

They fit together. It made sense. She knew what to do. You didn’t.

You could feel your eyes burn with tears and knew you had to leave. You couldn’t watch this. You couldn’t keep watching this.

You got up to leave but got up so hastily that you failed to notice that your glittery top got snagged by the edge of the table. The tear was barely noticeable, but the scrape of your chair against the floor was loud and got everyone’s attention, including Nia who smirked at you.

“See, this is why you should dress for your body, not just based on trends. I guess that the rip was the universe’s way of letting you know that the shirt needed to be let out a bit,” Nia said with a straight face, her voice devoid of emotion, but her words were laced with venom.

The venom that you could feel was starting to move in your body and to your heart and brain, making you hate everything about your body and yourself more than usual.

Nia’s vile comments finally made Joshua snap as he pulled away from her and stood up.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He shouted at Nia as she shrugged.

“She looked silly in that top. Is that why you picked it up, Shua? Because you couldn’t resist, knowing how stupid she would look in that?” Nia added, smirking. Her words were slurred, so you knew not to believe her, or at least that’s what you told yourself.

But then again, doesn’t a drunken mind speak sober thoughts?

“Y/N!” Joshua called out as you turned your back to everyone and tried to leave.

You took a deep breath before turning to him. “I’m fine, just tired,” you mumbled before exiting the flat.

After the flat party, you returned to your room, and you stood in front of your mirror in your underwear after a shower.

You stared hard; you could see every dent, mark, and scar on your body.

You weren’t chubby, far from it, but you weren’t a size two.

You had curves, which came at the cost of more stretch marks.

You had long, wavy hair that never seemed to cooperate with you.

Nia was right; you didn’t look good.

You were so immersed in picking yourself apart that you failed to notice Joshua walk in and wrap his arms around your waist.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he mumbled into your bare skin, and you could feel his toned arms under the flimsy fabric of your bra.

“For what? She’s just telling the truth. She’s the kind of flawless I wish I could be,” you mumbled, squinting at the reflection.

You hated what you looked like. You sighed deeply before removing Joshua’s arms around you.

“I fucked up. I said I’d defend you, and I didn’t,” Joshua mumbled, and you sighed, sitting on your bed.

Joshua sat down, kneeling, making you look into his big eyes shining with unshed tears.

“Why the fuck are you the one about to cry? I’m the one that got body-shammed in front of everyone. You got the pretty girl, and you got to even kiss her!”

“I’m about to cry because I have been spouting this loyalty bullshit from day one, and when it came to you, I just let it go. And I guess it’s because you dropped my hand when I was being suggestive and ran off to find Jeonghan instead,” Joshua grumbled, and you scoffed at him.

“That’s such a pathetic reason. I only ran off like that because, you know, I’m uncomfortable with sexual innuendos and jokes. I’ve never experienced anything, so how can I pursue a conversation further?” You questioned.

Joshua just frowned as he looked to the ground.

“I didn’t,” you started to say and moved to kneel until you were on your knees, sitting in front of Joshua. “I didn’t run because I wanted to get cosy with Jeonghan. But I’ll say he was a better friend than you were tonight,” you finished and stood up, grabbing an oversized shirt off your chair, pulling it over your body, and moving to Joshua.

“I was seeing red, and like a fucking dick, I said nothing. I didn’t pick that top for you because I wanted to mock you. I picked it because you looked lovely in it. It fits you like a glove,” Joshua spoke, and you scoffed at him.

“Are you sure I didn’t look like a stuffed turkey instead?” you mocked, and Joshua shook his head.

“I don’t know what Nia’s deal is—I don’t fucking know—but you didn’t look silly in the outfit. It’s your body; you wear what you want. You looked lovely, my angel,” Joshua smiled as he spoke, and you quirked your brows at him.

“My angel?” you echoed, and Joshua blushed slightly.

“I give nicknames,” he mumbled.

“Oh,” you mumbled.

“Only to the ones I love,” he replied, making your heart swoon.

You knew you already had it wrong for Joshua, but his saying made you swoon more. You felt safe, and you knew that you were falling for him.

“I didn’t look stupid in the green top?” you asked again, and Joshua smiled, turning to face you.

“No, you didn’t. Fuck Nia and her stupid ass opinions,” Joshua huffed, hoping it’d make you laugh, but somehow it failed.

“Wasn’t that your aim tonight? To fuck her. I mean, I gathered that was the aim because you leapt at the chance to kiss her,” you spat at Joshua, who shrank at the accusation.

“I just… fuck, I screwed up. I told you that I got mad, and I fucked up. I fucking did. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Joshua mumbled, and you sighed.

“It hurt to watch that,” you voiced, and Joshua nodded.

“Did, uh, did you want to kiss me instead?” Joshua asked, and your eyes widened.

“Is this some sort of stupid game you play where you kiss Nia first and then come back and give me a pity kiss? Because if it is, I want nothing to do with it,” you said as you tried to get up, only to have Joshua pull you back onto his lap, glaring at you.

“It’s not. Fuck, do you not realise that I had kissed you before, which wasn’t a fucking pity kiss? Two, I got hard for you. And now I want to kiss you because you looked amazing at that party, but you look even better in this stupid shirt that I kind of want to rip you off!” Joshua exclaimed, making your eyes widen.

“Oh,” you said, unsure of how to respond.

Joshua rolled his eyes at you. “Yeah, oh,” he huffed, making you giggle.

You didn’t know where you felt a surge of confidence rush into your blood, but you did, and as it did, the words tumbled out of your mouth sooner than you could stop them.

“Then kiss me,” you whispered out.

Okay, maybe you weren’t that confident, but you said the words, and you knew Joshua heard them because his grip around your waist tightened.

Joshua didn’t say anything. He simply pulled you in closer until your lips met his. You ignored the taste of cherry lip gloss on his lips and instead tried to enjoy his taste, but you couldn’t. You eventually sighed into the kiss as you pulled away.

“Did I do something?” Joshua asked, and you shook your head.

“I just… I keep tasting Nia’s stupid cherry lip gloss on your lips, and it’s killing the mood,” you admitted, making Joshua sigh as he used his shirt to wipe his lips.

“Try again,” he encouraged, and so you did.

This time, you could taste him; the cherry flavour was an aftertaste, but one you could swallow because you liked him too much to care.

As the kiss progressed, Joshua’s grip on your waist only got tighter, and you kept moving against his hips, making him groan into the kiss. He was so big and thick that you could feel yourself grow wetter each minute.

“Wait, stop,” he mumbled against your lips, his grip still tight on your waist because he knew you’d run away the second he told you to stop. “Where does all this leave us? The slight dry-humping, the kisses?” he asked, and you smiled at him.

You wanted to tell him you liked and wanted to date him, but you didn’t want to scare him off. So, you decided to choose an option that would only hurt you.

But if that was the only way you could ever have Joshua, so be it.

“How about we just keep it casual?” You said, trying to sound nonchalant and unbothered, and Joshua nodded.

“I agree,” Joshua replied, not leaving room for an explanation as his lips were back on yours instantly, making you moan into the kiss.

Casual it is.

Over the next three weeks, you learnt what casual meant. It meant still being friends with Joshua and having your usual movie nights with him. And then sometimes you’d end up on his lap, kissing him.

A week after the casual arrangement began, you found yourself bare-chested and at the mercy of Joshua’s lips and hands running all over your breasts while you palm his hard length over his boxers.

In the second week of understanding what casual meant, you found yourself clenching around his long fingers as they moved inside of you. You didn’t entirely realise how it happened. Still, it felt so good that you didn’t want to stop it. You were riding the wave of euphoria for as long as you could, and you couldn’t see it crashing anytime soon. You had also given your first blowjob. It was glorious watching Joshua fall apart under your touch. It was a sight you wanted to be tattooed in your brain.

During the third week of understanding the word casual, you felt pleasure you only thought was confined to porn and smutty fanfiction, but when you two stumbled back drunkenly after a night out, you couldn’t control your hormones.

You wanted him.

“Joshuaie!” you slurred slightly as he helped you back to your room.

It was a Friday night, and you had too much to drink. As a result, you ended up stumbling a bit, but you weren’t drunk, far from it. But you also had a pep to your step, one that did not help you walk.

“Sit,” Joshua ordered as he helped you sit on your bed.

His tone was slightly cold, and you immediately felt like he had poured cold water all over you. With one word, you sobered up immediately and let out a sniffle.

“I’m sorry I ruined your night out. I’ll be fine. You can go back and enjoy yourself,” you mumbled as you kicked your shoes off and scurried under your covers.

Joshua sighed as he walked into your ensuite bathroom, grabbed your makeup wipes, returned to you, and sat on your bed.

“Sit up,” he said, his tone softer this time, his kind eyes sparkling with endearment.

“You didn’t ruin my night, none of it. Fuck, I just got annoyed. A few guys made some shitty comments about you, and I wanted to punch them,” Joshua explained as you sat up, and he moved to wipe the makeup off your face gently.

“Oh, they probably said I looked hideous; no need to get mad at that, nothing I’m not used to,” you admitted, letting out a sad chuckle.

“Is that what you fucking think?” Joshua asked, and you shrugged, at which he sighed, kicking off his shoes.

You shrugged. “Is it not?”

Joshua shook his head. “Fuck, they couldn’t stop talking about all the sexual things they wanted to do to you, and I wanted to just punch them. No man should ever talk about a woman like that. It’s so stupid,” Joshua huffed out, making you smile.

“Well, at least I was being complimented,” you sassed back, spilling out of your bed as you drunkenly stumbled into your bathroom and stepped into your shower, the alcohol making you forget Joshua’s presence in the room.

Thankfully, you always kept an oversized shirt in the bathroom, which you changed into before stepping out of the shower and walking back into the room.

“The things those guys were saying weren’t complimentary. They were sexist and disgusting hell. If it were me…” Joshua trailed off when you joined him on your bed.

“What would you say, huh?” you asked, and Joshua smiled as he inched closer to you.

“I’d do more than speak,” he answered.

The atmosphere in the room suddenly changed; it was now filled with want and desire, and you decided to bask in the glory and be bolder.

“Show me then,” you mumbled.

“You’ve been drinking,” Joshua mumbled, and you shrugged.

“Your point? I’m buzzed, but I can consent. I can count to ten backwards if you want,” you joked.

Joshua smiled as he stood up, making you stand up with him. He pulled the curtains over your window so that the only thing illuminating the room was your table light. Joshua moved to pull the leather jacket off his body and tossed it on your desk before pulling you into a soft kiss.

“God, I’ve wanted to do this since I saw you tonight,” he admitted, making you smile. “Can I take this off?” he asked, and you hesitated for a second, then nodded.

“Just know that… I don’t look like a model underneath,” you mumbled suddenly. Even though Joshua had been intimate with you before, you still felt insecure every time.

“I’m glad you don’t. You’re beautiful. So fucking beautiful,” Joshua praised you as he pulled the fabric off your body, leaving you naked.

He walked you backwards until the backs of your knees touched his bed. He gently pushed you down, and you moved back on the bed as he crawled between your legs. He placed his lips on yours. You moaned into the kiss, and Joshua slipped his tongue into your mouth, deepening it. He pulled away gently just to look at you.

“Can I touch you?” Joshua asked, and you nodded slowly.

He smiled as he placed his lips on yours again, kissing you again, and then moved his mouth to your breasts.

“Fucking hell, these tits. You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to suck and bite them.”

You moaned as he squeezed your breasts, his fingertips rubbing your nipples.

“Each time you were in a low-cut top, I wanted nothing more than to bring you into a room and take your tits in my mouth.”

You squeezed your thighs as Joshua’s words did nothing but torment your aching cunt.

He moved a hand down your body. “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he said as he moved to lay down between your legs.

He pushed your legs apart, and his tongue found your cunt. He placed several kisses on your cunt, each kiss making you buck into his mouth. He wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Easy, princess, I’m going to take good care of you.” You nodded as he ran his tongue along your folds, moaning as he tasted you. He circled his tongue around your entrance as he pushed his long and thick tongue inside you.

“Fuck, Joshua,” you cried out, tugging on his hair.

He growled into your cunt when you tugged on his hair, the vibrations making you shake. He pulled his mouth away from you and pushed two fingers inside you. He stood on his knees and stared at you directly as he hooked his fingers inside you, his other hand pressing down on your stomach.

“Hold still, princess; I will make you scream my name.”

You nodded, and Joshua started moving his hand up and down vigorously. You could hear just how wet you were getting.

“Come on, princess, I can hear how fucking wet you are. Wouldn’t it be nice if you just squirted all over my hand?”

You arched your back as Joshua kept fingering you.

“Pretty girl, I can hear you squirt for me. I can make you squirt again, don’t worry.”

You kept whimpering until something inside you snapped, and you felt your vision fade as you came hard. You felt yourself squirt all over Joshua’s fingers. He pulled his fingers out of you and sucked on them.

“God, you’re so fucking sweet,” Joshua moaned, praising you. You felt a bolt of confidence surge as you got onto your knees. “You don’t have to?” he assured, but you shook your head at him.

“I want to. Will you let me?”

You reached forward and wrapped your mouth around his length. Well, as much as you could, your hands made up for what your mouth couldn’t. You ran your tongue along his length until you fixated your mouth around his tip. You kept sucking his tip, and your hands reached down to play with his balls. Joshua bucked in your mouth as you kept sucking his tip.

“Fucking hell.”

You smirked. Catching Joshua off guard was the only way to get him to submit to you.

“Fuck, baby, if you keep doing that, I’m going to cum!”

You kept bobbing your head up and down his length until you felt him still in your mouth and felt his warmth release down your throat. You pulled away, slowly swallowing his release and giving his sensitive tip a final lick.

“Fuck, get over here,” Joshua moaned as he pulled you into his arms for a sweet kiss.

You giggled into his chest as he cuddled you, making him nudge you. “What’s on your mind?”

“You’re perfect,” you said. No mumbling, nothing. You said it confidently.

“No one’s perfect,” Joshua countered, “plus, you’re only saying that because of the amazing orgasm I just gave you,” Joshua joked, making you groan and sit up.

“No, you are! You’re so fucking perfect, just you are. I’ll explain someday; right now, it’s fuzzy, but you’re the closest thing to perfection,” you mumbled as you laid back down and curled into Joshua’s embrace.

“Fuck, I’m going to miss you over winter break,” Joshua spoke, and you nodded.

“Only three weeks, nothing’s going to change. I’ll still be here,” you said, touching his lips and making him smile into the kiss.

The thing about bold statements is that they often come with uncertainty and pain should things not pan out the way you want. Which is precisely what happened to you.

You said in three weeks nothing would change, but you were wrong because you told yourself that when you were high off the orgasms and falling in love with Joshua, your love only grew stronger every second.

“Y/N!” Joshua exclaimed when he found you at the café. You were waiting patiently for him. It was the first week back from winter break, and Joshua finally texted to meet up.

You agreed. You also decided that you wanted to confess to him, to tell him you liked him.

“Joshua!” You greeted cheerfully as the tall boy hugged you tightly.

How do you get more handsome every day?

It was true; Joshua was getting increasingly handsome each day, and you weren’t entirely sure if it was good for your heart.

“So, what’s up?” he asked once you two sat down in a booth, and he smiled, noticing you ordered his favourite drink for him.

“Uh, winter break was good. I spent time with family, and uh, Joshua, I have to tell you something,” you started, and he nodded.

“Me too!” Joshua exclaimed, and you smiled, thinking that maybe you and him were on the same page. Perhaps he liked you the way you liked him.

“Really?” you asked. “Okay, you first,” you said, and Joshua grinned.

As he was about to speak, a pair of long, slender arms wrapped around his chest, and a kiss was placed on his cheek.

You felt your heart shatter into a million pieces – all stabbing you at the same time.

“Baby, I missed you!”

You looked to see Nia slide into the booth next to Joshua, making you feel nauseous. You felt like a fucking fool.

Why would Joshua ever reciprocate what you felt for him? Why would he ever want you when he had a girl like Nia?

“Babe, you’re early. I haven’t told her yet,” Joshua mumbled, apologetic as he awkwardly smiled at you. Nia shrugged.

“You two are dating?” you asked, and Joshua nodded.

“We met when I went back home, Nia’s from the same town, and we hung out, and you know, over the last three weeks, she made me the happiest I’ve ever been,” Joshua said, and you could feel your eyes starting to sting with tears.

“Wait, baby, they just called my order. Be right back,” Nia said, kissing Joshua’s cheek as she waltzed away.

“I know you’re not her biggest fan, but I promise she’s kind, loving and sweet when you dig past the cold persona. I wanted to tell you, but I also didn’t know how. We weren’t really together or anything, you know?” Joshua mumbled, and that did it for you.

He never even saw what you two shared as unique. You were nothing to him.

“Does she make you happy?” You asked, and Joshua nodded, smiling.

“Then I hope she knows that her side gets her the most amazing man, but if she hurts you,” you started to say, and Joshua shook his head.

“She won’t!” he said excitedly, and you nodded, knowing that your ‘I’ll hurt her if she hurts you’ speech would be wasted on him.

“Then, go be happy, Joshua, that’s all I want,” you said as you gathered your things. You had to leave this café. You’d fall apart if you stayed any longer.

“Wait, you said you have something to tell me?” Joshua asked, and you shook your head.

“I got to go. Another time.”

You rushed, hurrying out of the café and back to your dorm room, where you cried into your pillow. You cried until you couldn’t cry anymore, then you cried some more. You cried until you couldn’t feel anymore. You cried yourself to sleep, knowing that the boy you loved was never going to be yours.

You would have to see them, Joshua and Nia. You’d have to see her with him, and it’d hurt because she had everything you had to live without.

Joshua tried to balance, but he was failing. He would flake on meetings with you and study sessions or hangouts, which started getting on your nerves. You brought it up to him one night during a movie night.

“Stop making plans if you keep flaking,” you mumbled, and you saw Joshua glare at you.

“It’s not out of malice. Forget it; you won’t get it,” Joshua dismissed.

“Why wouldn’t I get it?” You asked, and he sighed.

“You’re not dating anyone. You’ve never been in a relationship either, so I guess you wouldn’t get it,” he mumbled, and you scoffed at him.

“I don’t have to be doing either of those things to call you out on being a shit friend,” you retorted, making Joshua scoff.

“You only just made friends, so please don’t act like you have any authority on what friends are meant to do either,” Joshua fired back, making your eyes well up with tears.

“That’s so mean,” you choked out.

Joshua groaned. “Oh, for the love of God, I can’t be at your beck and call! I have a life! I’m sorry you don’t, but I do! Why don’t you go out to make some friends? I won’t be able to be there for you all the time, not when someone needs me more, and she’s a priority,” Joshua said.

His words felt like daggers, slicing you open, drawing blood, but all you felt were tears stinging your eyes.

“I’m going. You’re right, I should make more friends. Also, I never asked to be a priority, Joshua, but I didn’t expect you to make me an afterthought… But I get it now, you don’t need me,” you explained, tears running down your face as you hurriedly grabbed your bag and stormed out of his room and back to yours.

He didn’t come after you this time when he made you cry. This time, you were alone.

And this time, you knew he was not yours. Not anymore.

~~~

Three Months Later

You weren’t entirely sure what you were doing at this party; none of the people here were your friends, but you decided to go out because another girl from your dorm, Mai, invited you out. You chose to go since Joshua painfully pointed out how few friends you had and that you should go out and make some.

You weren’t entirely sure these were the types of friends you wanted to make. You weren’t judging them, but they were just different. They were more outgoing, the type to get wasted and hook up with each other. You judged none of it, but it just wasn’t you.

“Yo, Y/N, have a shot of this,” Mai said, rushing over to you and handing you a shot glass of clear liquid. “It’ll loosen you up a bit. You’re so wound up,” she moaned, and you sighed, taking a shot of the drink.

It burnt your throat, but it couldn’t compare to the pain you felt every time you thought of Joshua.

“Good, have another,” Mai said, handing you another shot, and you did the same thing, downing the clear liquid, shot after shot, until you were four shots in, your mind hazy, and you stopped thinking.

Instead, you soon found yourself on the dance floor, grinding against some guy. You forgot his name but didn’t care, not when his kisses distracted you from Joshua. And certainly not later when you were back in your room that night, he was down on his knees trying his best to please you.

“Babe, if you don’t want to, we don’t have to,” he spoke, and you looked at him, his chin wet with your arousal.

“Kyung,” you drawled; his name finally popped into your mind. “I do. I just don’t have protection,” you mumbled.

“Oh, is that it? I do,” Kyung said, fishing out a condom from his back pocket, making you smile in amusement.

You weren’t going to lose your virginity to Joshua. He made it clear that he didn’t see you as someone he’d prioritise, plus he had a girlfriend.

“Just go slow,” you told Kyung as you pulled your dress off.

You didn’t care what you looked like anymore. You didn’t. If Kyung could make you feel wanted, you’d do anything to feel that.

You wanted to know what it felt like to be desired, even if Joshua wasn’t the one to do it.

You woke up to Kyung gently snoring next to you until you nudged him awake the following day.

“Hey, oh, are you okay? Any pain, any regrets?” Kyung asked sweetly, and you shook your head.

“No… Thanks for last night,” you mumbled, and Kyung smiled as he slowly got out of bed.

“Look, I would stay, but I also don’t think your head is in it because you can tell when someone doesn’t like you, but don’t worry! I’m not mad,” Kyung explained.

“Kyung, I’m sorry,” you mumbled as he got dressed and shook his head. “It was a hookup, no hard feelings, right?” you asked, and Kyung nodded, smiling at you.

“Chill, we’re good. But you know, if you ever see me around and you want to repeat what happened last night, I wouldn’t be opposed to it. But if you never want to acknowledge me again, that’s also okay,” Kyung explained, making you smile.

“I’ll at least say hello,” you joked, making Kyung laugh.

“See you around, Y/N,” Kyung said as he left your room. You sat in bed and slowly got out later to shower, your legs aching with a good ache.

It felt nice last night to feel wanted. You felt utterly rejected by Joshua, and you wanted to feel needed, and if doing things like you did last night made you feel the slightest bit wanted, then you’d do it over and over again.

So, you did.

You continued it. Going out, getting drunk, hooking up with someone random, and each time, you felt more complete seeing how they drooled when they saw you naked. You enjoyed every moment.

Each hookup was your attempt at filling the Joshua-sized hole in your heart, and though it wasn’t entirely practical, it was enough. It was enough to numb your pain.

You continued this pattern for so long that you lost track, lost track of how many people you slept with. You just were chasing something permanent in something fleeting.

You hadn’t spoken to Joshua in two years.

Well, here and there, awkward hellos, but he’d become a ghost to you since he started dating Nia. You pulled away too because you couldn’t be around him, not when you felt your heart break a little more every time you saw him.

You hadn’t spoken to Joshua in so long, until today, in the final term of your last year of university. You had just returned to the dorms and were unpacking your things after going home for the winter break when you heard a knock on your door.

“Come in, it’s open,” you called out, and your eyes widened when they landed on Joshua’s scowling figure. “Well, hello to you too,” you huffed out.

You had gained more confidence in the two years but felt every bit of it ebb away when you saw Joshua again. Because when you saw him, you were always the broken-hearted girl who cried over the fact that she could never have him.

“What the hell are you doing with your life?” He asked, making you stare at him in confusion.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t act stupid with me. What are you doing, hooking up with someone new almost every week? Do you know that this gossip followed me back home?” Joshua accused you, making you scoff.

“Why do you care? You already made it painfully clear that I was not a priority anymore, so why do you care what I’m doing?” you demanded, and Joshua scoffed.

“Well, if everyone I know is starting to call you a slut, then I care,” Joshua fired back, making you scoff again.

“Do you think that?” you asked, and Joshua sighed.

“If the shoe fits,” he mumbled, and you rolled your eyes at him.

“That day in the café, I wanted to tell you I liked you,” you started to say as you unpacked your belongings. “I started falling for you, Joshua. The minute you made me feel seen, kissed me, and the three weeks we spent fooling around, I fell more and more. I thought you felt the same,” you said, pausing to breathe.

“But you didn’t, and I had a Joshua-shaped hole in my heart,” you finished, and Joshua stared at you with wide eyes.

“All that to say, I make no apologies for how I choose to fix that hole in my heart, and I make no apologies for how I choose to fix what you broke,” you responded.

“Did you just quote Meredith Grey to me?” Joshua asked, making you roll your eyes at him.

“Shut up, she had great lines,” you bit back.

“I’m just saying you’re getting a reputation, and you know people won’t respect you as much,” Joshua babbled, making you scoff at him.

“I couldn’t give less of a fuck. I’m trying to forget you,” you lied as tears started to pool in your eyes. “I don’t care about the respect of hundreds of people who don’t know me, but I do care about the respect you have for me,” you asked.

Joshua stayed silent, feet planted on the ground.

“I’ve gotten my answer, thank you,” you replied, and Joshua sighed.

“You keep this up. You’ll lose everyone,” Joshua retorted, making you roll your eyes at him.

“I only ever had you, and I lost you the day you started dating Nia, so I think I’m good,” you said, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Fine, be that fucking way,” Joshua scowled as he stormed out of your room, slamming the door on his way out, making the hole in your heart grow with every step he took.

“Y/N!”

You left bed one night when you heard someone yell your name. Startled, you ran to the front door, confused when you saw Jeonghan.

“Joshua’s in my room, and he’s crying. He needs you,” Jeonghan huffed, and you rolled your eyes at him.

“No, he doesn’t, he hasn’t for so long. Tell him to go run to Nia,” you spat out, and Jeonghan sighed, running his hand through his blond hair. It was tousled and messy. You guessed that he had just gotten out of bed.

“Nia is the reason he’s crying, so I can assure you, he does not need her,” Jeonghan deadpanned, making your heart sink. Joshua and Nia had problems?

“Just go to him, preferably before he drenches my bedsheets with his tears,” Jeonghan rushed, and you sighed, following him across the hall to Jeonghan’s room, where you saw the man you were deeply in love with curled into a ball crying.

“Joshua?” you said softly, and you only heard a whimper from him in response.

“Go, I’ll be in the kitchen,” Jeonghan said, pushing you into the room, and you cautiously approached the crying man.

“She cheated,” Joshua blubbered out, and your heart sank.

You could only see red. How could she? She had your entire world in her hands and crushed it in one thoughtless moment.

“I’m going to fucking kill her,” you spat out, and Joshua shook his head.

“No, just hold me. I don’t want ever to hear her name again,” Joshua begged, and you sighed, giving in to let Joshua cuddle you.

“I deserved this. I said such shitty things to you. No wonder I’m in this predicament now,” Joshua sighed, and you rolled your eyes.

“Shut up. You said shitty things. It doesn’t mean you deserved this; no one does; I’m so sorry,” you said, hugging him tighter, earning a soft sigh from him.

“Y/N, I haven’t been a good friend at all, and I’m going to be one of those douchebags who’s going to ask you to be there for me now because I need you, but I promise this time I won’t hurt you, not again,” Joshua admitted sitting up slightly wiping his eyes.

“I…” you hesitated and sighed when you saw hurt flash across his handsome features. “Of course I will,” you said, making Joshua smile.

Of course, you would because you held onto hope. Not that you ever wanted Joshua to get hurt, but he could finally be yours after the hurt passed.

Joshua was true to his word. Things went back to how they were, you two being the best of buds, no benefits, but still, he was your friend, warming your heart up. This time, it would be fine.

“You look nice,” Joshua commented as he walked into your room, his hands automatically moving to adjust the zipper you were fiddling with. “There, all done,” he beamed at you. “You look beautiful,” Joshua commented again as he took in your emerald, green floor-length cocktail gown.

You had just finished getting ready for the final year gala. You smiled at Joshua, and your eyes widened as you took in his appearance.

“You look just as handsome. Any girl would be lucky to have you,” you suggested, biting your lip when you saw how his expression fell.

“Let’s not mention that, please?” he asked.

“She who shall not be named?” you offered with a smile, and Joshua nodded.

“Yeah, she who shall not be named.” He smiled as you two walked out to your room and the ballroom.

“Shall we, our final gala as soon-to-be university grads?” Joshua asked, holding his arm to you, and you smiled at him.

You and Joshua enjoyed the gala. For the most part, there was no drama, just a few odd questions about if you and Joshua were dating, but he quickly shot them down. By the night’s end, you were tipsy enough to spill the words brewing on your tongue for the entire night.

You still loved him, and tonight, you’d tell him uninterrupted.

“Okay, what was so important that you needed to drag my ass out here and watch yourself! You’re going to fall over!” Joshua giggled as he wrapped his arm around your waist, making you smile shyly at him.

This was it; this was the moment you’d tell him everything you felt for him. You’d say to him right here that you loved him.

“Okay, sit,” you declared to Joshua, who only chuckled and then groaned when you pushed him down onto the icy-cold brick walls that adorned your campus. The décor of your campus made it look like a castle, and at this moment, you felt like you were maybe just in a fairytale.

Joshua was the prince, and you were the wide-eyed princess about to confess to him.

“Okay, now shut up and listen,” you giggled, making Joshua laugh.

“I’ve legit said nothing. The floor is all yours, my love,” Joshua smiled as he spoke, and you melted. That smile would be the death of you. That’s all you knew.

“So, this year, I felt we became so close. I mean, you were my first friend here, hell, you were probably my first friend here, and I know the last two weeks with your breakup, it wasn’t exactly kind on you. However, you could keep a straight face and smile through whatever pain you tried to hide. Inspired me,” you admitted. You saw Joshua’s smile, and you flashed him a smile before you continued to ramble.

“I also remember, the night after that awful party, I told you to come and help me out, and you did, and I remember just drunkenly mumbling apologies to you. I think that was the first time I expressed my gratitude for you. You’ve made me a better person, Joshua,” you professed, struggling to look him in the eyes as you poured your heart out.

“I’m not going to lie. Because of the alcohol, I can’t. Honestly, thanks to the alcohol, I can’t remember much of what I said, but I remember you smiling and saying thank you, so I guess I must have said something right!” You drunkenly continued your monologue, making Joshua nod at you.

“Now,” you said slowly as you stumbled to sit down next to him.

“I’m going to bring this up quick. The way you shut down when you and Nia broke up. It broke me. I hate the fucking fact that she failed to see how wonderful of a man she lost, but that’s her loss, not yours; I hated that you doubted yourself so much,” you babbled as you placed your hand on his, which made him look up at you.

“That being said, you inspired me even in your darkest hours. You were able to finally pull yourself out of that shitty headspace, evaluate it, and then reason. It’s something that I admire in you a lot and a trait I wish I also possessed. When I visited you the night, you found out about Nia’s unfaithfulness. I saw it was a different side to you. I no longer saw you as Joshua, the guy who always kept a straight face and never expressed emotions other than happiness and anger,” you explained, pausing to breathe.

“I saw a guy who was hurt, vulnerable, sensitive, but a guy who was honestly just emotionally drained. That night, I guess, would be the pivotal moment of our friendship because I saw you not only being happy and cheery but also having a different and more sensitive side of yourself,” you smiled as the words tumbled.

“Y/N, you’re going to make me cry if you continue,” Joshua mumbled, and you knew he wasn’t lying, especially with the way his voice was thick with emotion. You shrugged as you moved to sit down next to him.

“Okay, turn, face me,” you slurred slightly, making Joshua laugh at you as he turned to face you.

“How can I help you?” Joshua asked, and you grinned at him.

“Well, now it’s Joshua appreciation time!” you yelled in his face, making him laugh as he slightly cringed at the volume of your voice before nodding, allowing you to speak.

“Well, first, I’m jealous of you!” You exclaimed, making Joshua look at you funnily, “why?” Joshua asked, his voice small.

“You make everything so effortless, good grades, good friends. I know you put effort into everything you do, but you make it look so easy. I’m jealous of that,” you admitted, making Joshua blush as he smiled at the ground.

“Now, you remember how I said if I could use one word to describe you, it’d be perfect, well I still maintain that and let me break it down for you because I know you’re going to give me the bullshit that no one’s perfect, but listen up Hannah Montana, you are!” You declared, making Joshua laugh.

“Look, you’re a fantastic friend. Wait for not a perfect friend. You are excellent at giving advice. You are also extremely trustworthy! If I’m ever questioning or hesitant about anything, I can always count on you to give me the correct answer!” You rambled, pausing to take a breath before continuing.

“Jokes apart, speaking presently, I know this month hasn’t been too kind on you! I won’t dwell on the girl who shall not be named. I know how she broke you into two. Still, I hope you know that you fucking deserve better than her. She lost a good thing, and that’s on her to regret for the rest of her life, not you. You’re going to meet the perfect girl because you’re the perfect guy,” you breathed out, smiling at Joshua, who was now smiling softly at you.

“I know that sometimes you feel that it’s safer not to show your emotions, but as I said, you’re human. You’re entitled to feel and have every right to express them. I know you might find it much easier to ignore them and not deal with them, but sometimes, it’s not too bad to deal with them. All I want to say is that Joshua, if you ever need anything, a hug, a chocolate bar or a lame joke to cheer you up! Then I’m here! You’re one of my closest friends, and I never want to see you upset!” You exclaimed, pausing to take another breath.

“I love you, Joshua, and before I sort of end this obnoxiously long confession, I want to say that I know you felt that sometimes you weren’t good enough. I want to remind you that you are! You’re good enough, better, and stronger than you give yourself credit for! Thank you for letting me be part of your life,” you exhaled, taking a breath before continuing.

“So all that being said, I guess I’m trying to say something else too,” you mumbled suddenly, feeling your confidence drain out of your body, and Joshua nodded to you.

“What would that be?” Joshua asked, placing his hand on yours. You smiled at him as you decided to leap of faith and inch closer to him.

“I…” you gulped before moving closer. You decided kissing him would be easier than telling him you were head over heels in love with him.

You were about to place your lips on his when you heard her voice,

“Shua, what did you want to talk to me about?” Nia called out, and you looked at Joshua with hurt and betrayal filling your chest.

You got up and stumbled as you tried to move as far away as possible from him.

You could bear your soul to him. You could tell him that you’d take a bullet for him, and you’d still never be enough for him. You’d never be the girl for him. You’d never be her.

“Y/N, stop!” Joshua yelled out, and you shook your head at him.

“No, nothing; I just wanted to tell you you were great. I need to, uh, go. You go get your girl,” you mumbled, your voice betraying you as it cracked, and you could feel hot tears start to run down your face.

You tripped as you tried to run back to the dorms. You were never going to be the one for him.

You weren’t her.

You’d never be her. That’s all you knew as you cried yourself to sleep tonight,

Joshua didn’t come to check in on you either that night, but you knew where he was. Balls deep in Nia, or so you could only guess from the moans you could hear across the halls. He was back with her.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, like most nights, but tonight, you’d stay away from him; he was not yours, and his heart would never be yours.

You barely spoke to Joshua after that night of the final gala. You found out later that he had gotten back together with Nia that night, and so you decided that you’d forget it. Forget him, and heal.

Divider: Five Years Later

Over the years, you thought you had healed, and you wouldn’t think about him every second, and you thought you were fine until your high school reunion.

“Joshua, you’re strong now,” you moaned as Joshua carried you into your hotel room.

Frankly, you weren’t sure how you got here. You had shown up for a university reunion, and you and Joshua picked up from where you left off. It was as if nothing had ever changed.

However, seven drinks in, Joshua started getting flirtier, and you reciprocated his every advance until you were in this exact position, his arms around your waist, waiting to fuck you. You hoped he wouldn’t pinch you at this moment because if it were a dream, you didn’t want to wake up.

“You know what I want to do?” He whispered hotly in your ear, making you shiver in his embrace. “I’m going to finger you, lick you and fuck you till you’re trembling and begging to cum, and even then, I won’t let you cum. I’ll cum inside you and leave you tied to this bed. Your clit throbbing and you’ll be begging for me to let you cum, but I’ll leave you here filled with my cum.”

You whimpered at his words; your pussy ached for his touch. You nodded meekly at him.

Joshua slowly undressed you. He hissed when he saw your swollen pussy lips. He moaned at the scent of your arousal and traced a finger from your clit to your entrance. Gathering the arousal he collected from that simple touch, he put his finger in his mouth and sucked and moaned in approval.

“You taste so good for me, pretty girl.”

He stood up and slid off his clothes, his tanned and toned body, his hard cock long and thick. He climbed back onto the bed and hovered over you.

He placed his hands on your chest, massaging your breasts, making you moan. You didn’t wear a bra, so he felt your nipples harden and groaned in approval.

He slid your top up, exposed your breasts, took one nipple in his mouth and began to suck gently. He then picked up his pace and started to bite and tug at your hardened nipples.

You tried so hard to keep your mouth shut, but his mouth felt so good. You let out a soft moan. This didn’t go undetected by him. He slapped your now exposed clit. Your hips thrust up in response.

His mouth left your chest, and he moved his mouth to your dripping cunt. He started kissing your inner thighs, darting his tongue out and licking every part of you except your aching cunt.

You tried to move in an attempt to get his mouth onto your pussy. He slapped your clit again, except this time, he followed it up by inserting his long finger inside your pussy. You tried to suppress a moan, but it was too much, and you needed him to fuck you senseless.

“Baby girl, I see that you just don’t want to listen,” he said as he inserted another digit. He curled his fingers upright against your g-spot and started moving his wrist up and down. “So make all the noise you want, but you cannot cum.”

He continued his relentless pace and assault on your pussy. He leaned his head down and finally put his tongue on your clit, and you thought you were going to cum right then and there.

His tongue flicked at your clit, before he enclosed his mouth on it, and you lost it. You couldn’t control it, and you came undone on his tongue and fingers. Joshua growled at your release but didn’t ease up on his movements and kept sucking at your now over-sensitive clit.

He removed his mouth from your pussy, but he didn’t ease up with his fingers. He added a third digit and fucked you until you squirted onto his hands. It wasn’t long before the overstimulation turned into pleasure, and you found yourself cumming on his tongue.

You didn’t know how he could make you come undone so quickly and easily. You were shaking and trembling, tears of pleasure rolling down your face.

You couldn’t even coherently mumble out a word or move. You felt so good, and your pussy was still throbbing, and yet you ached for more.

Without letting you get more than a minute to recover, Joshua pushed his length inside you. He let out a growl and proceeded to fuck you, setting a relentless pace. He fucked you hard and fast, his thick cock hitting the right spots each time. He pulled out of you, and you moaned at the loss of contact.

He pushed himself into your dripping and aching pussy. At this point, he was just chasing his release. You finally used your arms to hold onto his broad shoulders as he fucked you into the sheets, your legs wrapped around his waist, allowing him to go deeper.

He was close. You could tell by the way his thrusts got more uneven. To tease him further, you clenched your pussy around his cock.

Oh, he was pissed.

“Baby girl, is that hard for you to listen?” His hand went to your neck, gently choking you, and he continued fucking you. The breath play only made you reach your high again, and he wasn’t far off either.

He came inside your pussy and stayed still for a little bit. Then pulled out gently, not letting his cum spill out. He moved his body down yours until his mouth reached yours again and stuck his tongue into your cunt and lapped at it until you came again, and he cleaned his cum out from you.

Swallowing, he moved up and pulled you into his arms, and you both lay on the bed.

“How are you, baby? I hope it wasn’t too much for you.”

“Was so good.” You were still basking in the afterglow of your session.

You woke up later that night feeling rather hungry.

Sex does that, you assumed. You noticed Joshua was awake and scrolling through his phone.

“Hey, do you want to grab a bite or something? I’m starving,” you asked, and Joshua sighed, taking a sip of the water you left by the bedside.

“This was a hookup, Y/N; please don’t read into it,” Joshua answered bluntly, and you stood up and walked to find his clothes and threw them at him.

“It was a fucking question, Joshua!” you yelled.

“I know not to hope with you anymore, but I can’t help if my heart doesn’t want to listen. But tonight, you showed me that you’re done, so I want you out,” you snarled, and Joshua nodded, getting dressed quickly and walking out of your door and crushing your heart again.

But that night was long gone, and so was he.

You noticed a heavily decorated envelope sitting on your desk later that evening. You must have collected the mail and not bothered sorting through it. You opened the envelope and held your breath when you saw an invite to Joshua’s wedding.

Joshua weds Yuri the card read, and for once, you felt pain, but unlike the past, it felt dull. It didn’t feel like you were being stabbed in the heart.

You RSVPed as soon as possible. You wanted to go.

So, you did. You watched the ceremony, and the happy couple exchanged their vows, and you approached Joshua to talk outside after the reception.

“I need to talk to you. I didn’t invite you to hurt you. I invited you because you’re a friend,” he started to say, and you nodded.

“Then, as a friend, I need you to listen to me one last time,” you pleaded.

Joshua nodded as he sat down on the bench outside the castle, his actions reminiscent of the time you confessed to him, but this time, it’d be different because you were different. Everything was different now.

“Look, thank you for being so brave throughout the wedding. I know it couldn’t have been easy,” Joshua started to say.

You had to take a deep breath to not scoff at his words. Did he still think you were in love with him after all these years?

Truthfully, you will always love him. He was your first love. How could you ever forget him? How could you forget the nights when he’d pleasure you and look at you like you were the only one in the world? But more importantly, how could you forget the nights when he held you while you cried, wiped away every tear and kissed away every insecurity? How could you forget the boy who made you feel beautiful for the first time?

But most importantly, how could you ever be the boy who kept breaking your heart repeatedly, and yet you kept forgiving him because you hoped that one day he’d wake up and realise that he loved you too?

But it was too late for all of that.

You were standing at his wedding, well outside the chapel, and you watched the entire night as Joshua exchanged his vows with someone who was not you. Your eyes moved to his left hand and zeroed in on the gold band that adorned his long finger, his ring finger. The finger that he’d always leave empty when he wore jewellery because he said he was saving it for someone special, and tonight, he finally found that someone special.

You could never forget Joshua. But it had been ten years, and now you could look at him with a mixture of feelings, hurt, regret, and a multitude of negative emotions. But tonight, what consumed you wasn’t all bad. You also felt free.

Tonight, Joshua gave his word to be with Yuri for the rest of his life and vowed never to leave her, and all while doing that, you felt the shackles of being bound to him loosening.

“I was about to confess to you after graduation seven years ago. I wanted to tell you that I loved you. Not that I think I needed to, I was babbling away how perfect you were, but then she came, and I felt like no matter what I did, there would never be a right time to tell you I love you,” you sighed, smiling at him.

“Over the years, I took it as a sign from the universe; maybe it protected me because the universe knew you’d never love me back, not how I did. After that hookup at the hotel, I said we should grab a bite. The first thing you said to me was that I shouldn’t mistake a hookup for feelings and that Joshua was when I realised that there would be no universe where you’d be mine,” you explained, making Joshua’s expression harden.

“This is my wedding night; I do not need to hear you say something shitty to me on what is the happiest day of my life,” he started to say, raising his voice, and you sighed, sitting down next to him.

“Let me finish,” you said, and Joshua pouted before nodding. “I’m not blaming you, Joshua. Yes, did we do stupid things that made me overthink and convince myself I had a chance, even if it was a glimmer of hope? Sure. But, all you ever were to me was a friend; you were my best friend, and you carried out your duties as a friend,” you explained, placing a hand on his, making him look at you.

“I fell in love with you, Joshua, but that’s not on you. I fell for the tall, gangly boy I met when I was 18, putting you on a pedestal and myself on the back burner. But tonight… Watching you getting married and exchanging your vows didn’t hurt the way I expected it to. It felt liberating,” you continued, making Joshua sigh as he withdrew his hand from you.

“We grew apart a lot, and it helped. It helped me think of you less, and over time, I guess I stopped being in love with you. And tonight, something clicked,” you said, turning to Joshua, who had an unreadable expression.

“What was that?” Joshua asked.

“I fell out of love with you, Joshua. I’ll always care for you, and hell, I’ll always love you, but Joshua, I’m no longer in love with you,” you admitted.

It was true.

Ten years ago, you tied an invisible string and pulled Joshua into your heart, where he stayed for ten years. He broke your heart so many times. Still, you kept him in there, holding onto hope. But tonight, when he said, “I do”, you felt that string lose its strength, inevitably weighed down and frayed over the last ten years, and tonight, it didn’t snap. It just—like your love—let go.

You let go of Joshua, and in turn, you set yourself free. Free from the ‘what ifs’, the nights where you’d cry into your pillow, wishing you were in his arms at night, but you weren’t awake. You laid awake at night thinking of him for so many years, and you felt like you could finally let go tonight.

“You will always have a special place in my heart, but how I loved you was dangerous and harmful. I put you above everyone and myself. I lost myself loving you, and I lost myself trying to be the girl you could love. But over the years and growing up, I realised that sometimes, it’s just not meant to be. And fuck, ten years ago, or even five years ago, that sentiment, the meant-to-be bullshit, would fuck me off, but tonight, I get it,” you explained, feeling tears of relief pool in your eyes.

“I loved you deeply and immensely, but it didn’t work out, and that’s fine because I learned one thing, I’m capable of loving, and one day, I know I’ll get that love back, the kind of love I had for you, undying and unyielding,” you finished off looking at Joshua who smiled sadly at you.

“When did you grow up so much?” Joshua chuckled, his voice thick with emotion.

You smiled at him and shrugged.

“Time heals everything, Joshua. I want the best for you. I do. I want you to have the most amazing married life. Never break her heart. Never go to bed mad at each other. Always tell each other you love each other,” you babbled until you felt a tug on your hand, making you look at Joshua.

“I couldn’t force myself to love you the way you loved me, and I won’t say I’m sorry for that, but I’m sorry for hurting you, seeking comfort in you for my selfish needs. You’re so special to me. You were my first friend in university; we have a history, and I want us to maintain that friendship. I want us to grow old as friends and laugh about this memory while we bitch about how annoying our spouses can be,” Joshua said, making you laugh.

It was an honest laugh. It wasn’t forced. It was real. You were healing.

“I’ll take you up on that, but tonight, I’m setting myself free, and you, Joshua, congratulations,” you said, standing up and holding out your arms for a hug.

Joshua smiled softly at you as he pulled you into a hug, and you felt like your broken parts were being squished tightly together and being fixed, but you didn’t need to be fixed.

You just needed to heal.

You kicked off your heels as you entered your apartment later that night, smiling. You didn’t feel broken or upset; you felt free.

Your eyes zeroed in on the notice board in your living room, where you had put up pictures of special people in your life.

You looked at the one you had of Joshua. You took it one night, probably in your first year of university when you started falling in love with him. But it was just him. All the other photos you had with your friends were selfies of you and your friend. Only Joshua was solo, in a way; you kept it that way for so long because, for so long, you held on to the hope that he would one day love you back, and then you could stick a couple’s selfie there.

You smiled at his photo.

Taking a deep breath, you leaned forward, pulled his photo off your notice board, and replaced it with the Polaroid from the wedding. It was one the happy couple sent out to everyone.

You smiled at the photo in your hand. Joshua would always be that story you could tell ten years later, but tonight, for the first time in a long while, you could sleep without agonising over the ‘what ifs.’ You locked away Joshua’s picture in a drawer where you knew you couldn’t find it even if you tried.

You smiled again at the photo of him and Yuri as you turned around and got ready to sleep. For the first time in a long time, as you lay in bed that night, you didn’t punish yourself, thinking you weren’t enough, assuming you missed every moment. You went to bed knowing that you had a great love. It just wasn’t a perfect love story.

But it was okay.

And you would be, too.

#seventeen fic #seventeen smut #joshua fic #joshua smut #svthub #kvanit

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targaryenluvs · 9 months

Text

VICTORS SPOILS

pairings: dark!finnick odair x fem!capitol!reader

warnings: obsession, following/stalking, creepy behaviour, naive/younger reader, age gap, (reader is 19 and finnick's around 25), non-con touching and kissing, manipulation, bj mentions/insinuations, sex mentions, prostitution mentions, finnick lowkey preying on you - descriptions of brown reader (i was self indulgent since i’m indian 😁) condescending/nit picking mother and pushy parents!

summary: a victor should be celebrated! a victor should get what ever they wish, even if it’s a sweet capitol girl who misplaced her kindness in someone who was in desperate need of reprieve and distraction.

a/n: ITS MY BIRTHDAY!!! HERES A GIFT FROM ME TO YOU ❤️GUESS WHO MADE HER OWN LITTLE HEADER GAHH!! i tried my bestttt - ive been away for a littleeee!! sorry babes <33 it was like 3am and i cooked this up in my head before opening my brewing pot (notes app) and jotting it down - NOT PROOFREAD

the hall was so loud.

they always were at capitol parties. your mother and father always dragged you along, stating that a young lady should be getting out, meeting people, friends, becoming well versed and established in the capitol. and that they wouldn’t always be here. “you need to learn to be alone, fend for yourself and stand your ground. how are you gonna do that if you’re always trying to keep to yourself dear?” your mother sweetly smiled as she looked over you, “i think you still have time to change that dress, not the most flattering sweetie.”

you scoffed as she walked away ever so elegantly. you looked over yourself in the mirror, the green dress was gorgeous, to you at least. but the blue dress your mother had chosen was breath-taking, as much as you hated to agree with her opinion. so you bit your tongue and put the chosen dress on.

mother knows best right?

the sun was setting with an especially beautiful array of colours to which you figured no one would really notice you were gone if they were all focused on something else. there was probably a screen upstairs which you could watch something on. a few things to eat and drink then you’d head up there.

finnick was glancing over to you the whole night. you’d worn blue, and he’d taken it as an ode to him. you hadn’t looked over at him yet but your leaving of the party seemed like an invitation to him to finally introduce himself.

as you settled down on the plush couch you felt all your tensions melt away. but finnick wouldn’t leave you alone for long. “i’m sorry i didn’t know this was occupied.” finnick looked sad and you had no clue why, so being as nice as you are had you opening the room in invitation to him. “no, no! i just wanted to get away from the party. you’re welcome to sit with me finnick.” it felt odd to you for some reason, calling him by his name as if he was a friend. you’d only ever seen him through screens and from afar yet he looked as amazing as always.

“are you sure?” you nodded and smiled, moving down the couch to make room for him. he sat down, respectful of your space. he looked drained and you felt the same way. “tired of the party?” you asked as he smiled and nodded, “a lot of people asking a lot of questions.” you spoke, “everyone has something to say or ask. my dad told me he got three men asking for my hand. we haven’t even been here for two hours. it’s like being in a room with vultures. and if i do accept i’ll just be, nothing. someone stuck to the side of some ugly guy who just wants a pretty face.” you didn’t know what it was about him but you felt as if you could tell him anything.

and he sat, and listened. nodding his head and adding it where appropriate. it felt, nice. having someone actually listen to what you said rather than just asking what you were wearing. he was nothing like what you expected. you’d heard the whispers. that he was a playboy, he was with and had been with multiple women and men over the years. and that he liked it, the gifts, the people, the uhm, other aspects.

“but you, i’m sure you have people to meet, scope out.” you wanted to curl up and die as soon as the words left your mouth. “no! oh my god, i do not mean it like that. you- i- you should not feel ashamed of what you like. i am so sorry- i didn’t mean to imply-” god would you stop droning on? finnick pressed his lips into a thin line, “hey it’s okay. you’re fine. in all honestly, i know everyone has mis-conceptions of me.” you took his place in attentive listening as he explained the truth.

the threats, the people pawing at him, him being sold from fourteen.

you were crying. it all sounded unbelievable and unbearable for someone to go through at such a young age, his life was ruined all because he was pretty, desirable. no child should even have to think of such things let alone experience them. and rather than you comforting him, he was sitting with his arms around you. he was too good to be true.

“i- no i’m so sorry that happened to you finnick. i had no clue, no one does. you are such an amazing person, from the little time i’ve known you. you don’t deserve any of this. how could you get away from this? we could- we could expose snow we could-” finnick cut you off with teary eyes, “there’s nothing we can do. trust me, if there was i would have tried. but i think, if i got married perhaps. i’d have a reason to stay away from the captiol. we’d live in district four, in peace.”

the idea was pretty decent, you’d give him that. and you couldn’t help your heart running a little faster at the prospect of potentially marrying him. you were already fast friends, at least you’d marry a friend? even if he potentially loved someone else or you loved another.

“what if- if you married me?”

he’d hoped you’d say that.

“you’d do that for me? seriously?” finnick faked shock as you nodded, “we’re friends, i’d much rather marry you than anyone else here to be honest. we could be happy.” you smiled as he wiped away his last tear. “y/n, that’s an amazing idea.”

your wedding was marvellous.

your parents pushed out buck after buck, no expense spared for their little girl. as if they actually cared for you. your wedding dress was white and pristine, courtesy of snow. your brown hair in curls and your brown skin glistening. but you added blue accents for finnick, or you thought you did. it’s not like he pushed for you to wear the things he bought by incessantly reminding the makeup artists and helpers that you were marrying the finnick odair, his wife deserved nothing but the best.

you stood infront of a friend, smiling, happy to be marrying a kind soul.

he stood in front of the object of his affection, his desire and love.

in the first few weeks you were undeniably happy, finnick was as sweet as ever and respected you. it was your best outcome. but overtime you seemed to notice changes in his behaviour. when you’d want to go out into town for dinner he’d always have an excuse up his sleeve.

“there’s roadworks towards your favourite restaurant honey. maybe another time?”

“apparently they’re all booked out, maybe in a few weeks time?”

“wouldn’t you rather have a home-cooked meal? i made your favourite sweetheart.”

it began to annoy after the sixth time. “it can’t always be busy can it? we use to go all the time, and it’s not like they’d refuse you finnick. what’s going on?”

“i give you everything you could ever want. why the hell do you want to go out so much? am i not enough? are you- are you seeing someone?” finnick slumped in his seat.

your eyes widened as you rushed over to him, settling on your knees as your hands were placed on his thighs, “finnick how could you say such a thing? i would never do that to you. i swear there’s nothing going on, i just, i’m bored. i’d like to go out with you, explore your district with you, meet new people with you.” finnicks eyes burnt into yours. this is certainly not how he first wanted to see you on your knees, but at least you were whining.

“yeah? you like me? you promise there’s nothing going on?” you nodded dumbly, “yes yes! nothing i promise.” finnick looked down at your hands in his lap, “how do i know you’re not lying?” your hands were on his knees as you straightened your back, coming closer to his eye level, “i promise finnick. you are my husband, i’m with you. i’ll do anything to prove it to you.”

finnick was fighting off every muscle in his cheeks to not start grinning whilst the sad look on his face was breaking your heart, “yeah? anything?” oh this was going to be good. your cheeks were flushed as you heard the words come of out his mouth, “undo my belt sweetheart, show me how much you mean it.” wavering hands hovered over his belt buckle as finnick relaxed into his seat, it couldn’t get better than this right?

wrong.

every time you asked to go out, to meet a friend, to go to the capitol he’d always sulk. and the night would end with you on your knees, him on his to make you forget, or the two of you tangled in sheets.

finnick was finally happy, he had the girl of his dreams after such a long period of sadness, of exploitation and terror. fake smiles and lingering eyes.

he finally got something out of the games.

and his gift?

the victors spoils.

#dark!finnick odair x reader #dark!finnick odair x fem!reader #finnick odair x you #finnick x reader #finnick odair x reader #finnick imagine #finnick odair x fem!reader #hunger games x reader

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billiethepumpkin · 6 months

Text

An Expanded Family: How They'd Be as Step-Parents

Warnings: Rated R. This content is intended for readers ages 18 years or older. If you are a minor, do not interact.

Contains: GN!Reader. Multiple family situations. Deceased parents. Coparenting. Absent parent. Blended families. Adoption of a younger sibling. Step-parent behavior.

Featuring: Izuku Midoriya. Ochaco Uraraka. Tenya Iida. Momo Yaoyorozu. Shoto Todoroki. Mirio Togata. Hitoshi Shinsou.

Author's Note: All characters are written to be adults because I am an old fuck :)

Izuku Midoriya

It had been the first thing he learned about you. You were a parent. Parenthood was deeply engrained in the way you operated, especially in the Pro Hero space.

When you started dating, though, it became so much more complicated than that.

He started overthinking immediately.

Deku was a lot of things. A lot of little kids looked up to him. He met people every day, but the pressure of meeting your little one was extremely high.

Sometimes you'd catch him mumbling to himself, practicing how to talk to a little kid. He knew that screwing this up might mean losing you forever.

But there is literally no possible way that he could screw it up. In any universe.

He decided to go with you and your four year old son to a playground. He put together a picnic and everything.

Izuku was perfect.

You were sure you fell in love with him all over again, watching him on the playground with your baby.

He was a little awkward at first, but as soon as your son asked him to play tag, Midoriya was all over it.

Your baby had him climbing up slides, going down fireman's poles, swinging on swings, the works.

And you couldn't tell who was having more fun: Izuku or your son.

Sometimes, Deku would come over and babysit for you while you had to run off to work or to run an errand.

Izuku always just treated them like playdates or sleepovers, though.

He asks your son's permission for everything first. Especially when he's about to take big steps in the relationship, like moving in.

But when Deku asked your son if he could move in with you guys, your son got all wide eyed and excited.

"Yeah!" he exclaimed, smiling wide. "It'll be like a big sleepover!"

Midoriya knew your son had another parent, whether they were involved or not. He wasn't really trying to take over the father role.

It just fit him so well.

Soon, he found himself making pancakes and packing lunches and planning birthday parties.

Midoriya loved the life he had with you and your son. He loved it much more than he had anticipated.

And when you saw how much he loved your son, and how much your son loved him, it sealed the deal for you, too.

Ochaco Uraraka

Ochaco was surprised to find out you had kids. You were always so put together.

Not that parents can't be put together, she supposed, but you just didn't really seem like the parent type when she met you.

But whenever she came over while your twin daughters were there, she immediately saw a different side of you.

It made her fall that much more in love with you.

The first time you asked her to babysit, you were on your way to the hospital to see your sister have her own baby. Their other parent was never really in the picture, and everyone else that you would normally ask to watch the babies was also going to the hospital.

Uraraka volunteered almost immediately.

She had been with the twins and you enough times that she thought she had the hang of it.

However, they were only three years old, and whenever it came time to feed them, Ochaco realized she knew so little about children.

Nothing she offered seemed to satisfy them. It took her a while to figure out what they wanted, with their picky palates.

But she did it, eventually.

She knew the routine. Dinner. Bath time. Show on the couch. Then bedtime in the room they shared.

That night, you came home to find your two girls asleep with their heads on Ochaco's lap, her head leaned back on the couch as she dozed, too.

You merely giggled and brought your two girls to their own beds, then brought Ochaco into bed with you.

After that, it took her a while to feel comfortable watching the girls without you.

But she was very good at following your parenting style whenever it was the two of you!

And, man they loved her.

Any chance they got, they dragged Ochaco into the floor to play with them.

Coloring books, ball games, dress up, anything they could convince her to do.

With your permission, she had even floated them a couple of times.

And it warmed your heart when you heard one of them ask her, "Ochaco, will you be my Mama?"

Tenya Iida

You only got your baby every other week.

Your son was still a newborn, and his other parent was still very much a part of his life.

You wanted to make as much of the time you had with him as possible. So originally, Iida wouldn't come over during the weeks that you had him.

However, all of that changed when his dad wanted to switch weeks for a family event that you'd had going on.

You'd been so absent minded about it that you had forgotten to tell Iida.

Tenya had offered to just go back home and to reschedule his visit for the following week. But you thought that was as good a time as any for him to meet your son.

Iida met your baby while he was sleeping.

He was quiet and attentive, taking in the entire nursery. He didn't think you had shown him that part of your house before.

And even though he loved you and your son, it took a long time for him to really feel like he was part of your family.

I mean, you were seemingly still really close with the baby's other parent. He was never going to be able to step inside the bubble of your family.

Especially because Iida never really did the whole "step-father" thing.

At least, not in the way that anybody else usually did it.

He was more clinical, more calculating, the way he was with everything.

He didn't give the baby any baths or diaper changes for the first six months that you knew him, at least. He felt like it was inappropriate for him, as someone who isn't even related to the baby, to be doing those things for him.

He would do almost everything else, though. Feeding, playing, walks, different learning exercises, cleaning, more feeding.

You knew that everything he ever said or did was only because he cared about you and your baby.

However, he was always insecure about it. He never thought he'd be able to get your ex to trust him, and he never wanted to give either of you a reason not to.

Until you had a conversation with him about it.

You had a heart to heart about how it felt like you were doing a lot of things alone in your relationship and that you needed him to do a little more.

It was then that he told you how much he worried about things like diaper changes.

After you had a long talk about it, he revealed that he had no problem with those kinds of things. He just worried that it would affect the baby's development, to have a stranger around for intimate moments like diaper changes.

After that, he started to help more. He became stronger and stronger as a caregiver for your baby.

He would never be the baby's father. You both knew that. And Iida wasn't trying to be his father. All Tenya wanted was to love both of you for as long as he could.

Momo Yaoyorozu

You had a ten year old daughter when you and Momo started dating.

In fact, Momo met your daughter almost right away. She didn't have much of a choice because you had a really hard time finding childcare for her while you were away.

Your ex wasn't in the picture and didn't want to be. You didn't want them to be either. And your family didn't exactly raise kids the way you wanted your daughter to be raised. So it was just you and your daughter for the last ten years.

Until Momo came along.

She started out as just a really good friend.

Plus, now your daughter had someone else to look up to in her real life. Momo was smart and powerful, and you wanted your baby to have a woman in her life to look up to. Momo was perfect.

And then it became so much more than that.

Soon, Momo was over every single day. She picked up your daughter from school when you couldn't. She helped with homework and studying. She made dinner and taught your daughter everything she could about math and science and chemistry and hero work, everything she could get out of her system

And your daughter really didn't know how to feel about Momo because she just came on so strong all the time.

I mean, your daughter did like Momo.

It was just hard for her not to have some big feelings. She only had one real parent, and she didn't like any of her other family because of how mean they were all the time.

And Momo went from her parent's friend that sometimes tutored her to the person that sometimes steals her only parent.

And sure, it was cool to have a superhero as a stepmom.

But really your daughter missed the days when it was just the two of you.

When you noticed, you were heartbroken. You apologized over and over, and you promised your daughter that you could plan more days for just the two of you.

Momo was fully supportive of you having more alone time with your daughter. She knew it was important for your daughter to have that bonding time.

Momo just wasn't really sure how to react at the news that your daughter wanted her around less. She hadn't really considered how much she cared for you and your family until then.

Somehow, even though Momo knew how important it was for your daughter to have you as a support system, she still felt rejected and sad. She didn't want to leave you alone.

Momo pulled away for a while. Not because she was angry or anything, but because she didn't know how much space she was supposed to give you to be with your daughter.

Eventually, your daughter did start asking about her again.

"When is Momo coming back over?" she asked one time on the way home from school. "I miss her."

It took a long time, but you eventually learned to balance your time with Momo and your time with your daughter.

Shoto Todoroki

You took in your younger brother when your parents passed away.

You were happy to do so. The two of you had always been close, and you were happy to be the one who takes care of him.

But he was a bitter, emotional thirteen year old boy whose parents had just passed away. And there was nothing you could do to ease his pain.

You did everything you could think of. You started both of you in therapy. You spent quality time together. You made his favorite meals. You invited his friends over. But nothing consoled him.

He was mean and angry. He was sad and anxious. He insisted on being alone the majority of the time.

And you spent so much time trying to help him heal that you ended up isolating yourself.

That was when you met Shoto. He was a good shoulder to lean on. He was never judgmental of you or your situation. He always listened and never spoke until the time was right.

Todoroki also put you first, the way that you were never able to. And you fell in love with him months after your brother moved in with you.

You were extremely careful of the way you presented your relationship to Shoto to your brother. You thought it would be too quick of a change for him so soon after the last one.

Your worry actually led to you keeping it a secret for a little over a month.

It wasn't on purpose. You always meant to tell your brother that you had a boyfriend. But at first he just wasn't responsive to anything you said.

But then he met Shoto on accident.

Shoto went into your apartment to grab something you needed for work. It was only meant to be a quick trip to the apartment, and your brother wasn't meant to be there.

But he was. Your brother had skipped school. Apparently it's something he'd been doing for a while. He would just walk home after you left for work.

Shoto found him, and they struck up a deal. Todoroki would teach him some skills in combat and he would avoid telling you about the skipping class if your brother would stop skipping school altogether.

Suddenly, Todoroki became best friends with your younger brother.

Your brother became more social, more active. He started talking to you again. He started getting better grades in school. He started joining you for family dinners.

And when you were finally able to tell your brother about the nature of your relationship with Shoto, it turned out that he already knew.

Apparently, he overheard you on the phone with Todoroki one night.

Todoroki became increasingly protective over your brother.

He took your brother to nightly training sessions to help him work off his emotions.

Your brother even convinced Shoto to try going to therapy himself, something he had considered but never actually went through with.

After that day, they started becoming closer. Almost brotherly, almost the relationship you knew Shoto was missing from his siblings.

You knew they both needed each other.

And Todoroki was so spoiling for the both of you. He took you both on trips. He bought you gifts for holidays. He took you to dinner and to his Pro Hero parties and banquets.

Every once in a while, he would work late, and he would refuse to come back to your place because he didn't want to wake up your brother.

And one day, when Todoroki had been at his own apartment for several nights after being on late night patrols, you heard your brother ask you from the other room, "When is Shoto coming home?"

And ever since then, the three of you became a happy family.

Mirio Togata

You and your daughter met Mirio in the park.

Your daughter had been just six years old. Her other parent had passed away when she was an infant.

Your parents lived far away, and your partner's parents couldn't bear to look at your daughter now that they'd had to bury their own child. And you couldn't really blame them because of how much she looked like her other parent.

It was just the two of you, you and your baby.

Mirio had brought is own daughter, one from a previous marriage.

Their divorce had been amicable, though his ex-wife had since made some poor life choices and was no longer able to visit or take his daughter on the weekends. So they spent their days visiting parks and playgrounds.

You met because your daughter had taken quite a fall off of the swings and scraped up her hands, and Mirio's daughter had helped her up. Mirio, then, helped her find you so you could bring her home.

You were thankful, and you took your daughter home after a brief exchange of niceties.

From then on, you always noticed him at the playgrounds you frequented. Your daughter became very good friends with his, and you found it in your best interest to become friends with Mirio.

The rest is history.

You found out that your daughters would be going to the same elementary school. And from then on, they did everything together.

Meaning that you and Mirio now did everything together, too.

Mirio was particularly doting on your daughter.

He would play with her whenever she asked, no matter how silly the game was.

He would give her piggyback rides into school.

He would nurture her whenever she needed loving.

But he also never neglected his own daughter. He made sure they still went out on their father-daughter dates to cafes and parks and playgrounds.

Watching him love the kids so much created a longing in your heart that was so strong you couldn't deny that you had feelings for him.

Eventually, things spiraled until the two of you were much, much more than friends.

You hadn't exactly explained anything to your daughters yet, but during a play date, they walked in on the two of you kissing.

It was innocent enough. Nothing got remotely steamy. But it was just an innocent moment.

You both startled when you heard "OoooooOOOOoooh!" from the two tiny voices peaking around the corner.

You all started laughing, and your daughters came bounding in the room. "You loooooove Mirio!" your daughter teased.

"Yeah, I guess I do!" you said with a smile, looking at him lovingly.

Mirio was just as doting and loving on your girls as he had been the entire time.

A couple of months into your relationship, you discovered that you were pregnant. And then a few months later, you welcomed a new baby boy into the family.

At first, your girls were so loving and doting on their brother. They "helped" feed him, change him, and bathe him, which really meant just talking to him and giving him lots of kisses.

But you could tell that something with your own baby girl had gone awry.

She would cling to you all hours of the day. She always wanted to be cuddling you, right by your side every minute of the day.

Eventually, she let it slip that she thought you and Mirio loved the new baby most.

You decided that you had to do something. Your baby had to know that you loved her just as much as the rest of the family.

So you set up a special time after the baby was laid down for bed at night where you all did something together.

Sometimes you'd watch a show and cuddle under blankets on the couch. Sometimes you'd play board games together. And sometimes you would take turns reading parts of books.

You each took your girls out on solo adventures whenever you could, making sure to spend time with them just as you did one another.

You did your best to make sure that your family unit all felt loved the way they deserved.

Hitoshi Shinsou

Shinsou actually met your eight year old son first.

You had been holiday shopping on one of the busiest nights of the year.

You knew you shouldn't have brought him with you. You knew you should've just waited until your parents could watch him.

But now, here you were, frantically running around the shopping center, waiting for your eyes to lock with his.

You couldn't help but shame yourself while you searched for him.

First, you got pregnant in high school. You knew you weren't mature enough to have a child, and all of this proved it. You were still a child yourself. You had no business raising a kid all on your own.

And then you saw it.

You saw your son being led through the crowd with a man with purple hair, and you finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Fast forward to a year and a half later, and you and that man were moving into the same apartment.

Shinsou had proven to be an amazing parent, even if he really hadn't seen himself as a parent before.

He knew he wasn't really the "step-dad" type, and he never pretended to be.

He just wanted to care for you and your son as much as possible.

Hitoshi really struggled at first.

Sometimes, when he was over, he just couldn't understand why he could wake you up in the night with some love and affection.

Eventually, you explained that your son's face was peacefully sleeping on the other side of the wall between your bedrooms. "What the hell would you do if he walked in, 'Toshi?" you had eventually asked.

The look on his face seemed like he'd seen a ghost when you asked.

It took him a long time to get used to the schedule, too.

You and your kid got up so freaking early.

And yeah, he knew it was for school. But that didn't mean he wasn't grumpy about the alarm buzzing on your bedside table at six every morning.

One morning, though, he had been awake when your son had woken up from a nightmare.

You would have been happy to wake up and be there for your son. But Hitoshi also knew this was his chance to really bond with him in a way he hadn't been able to. So he got up and led your son into the kitchen.

Hitoshi took the time to heat up some milk with honey and cinnamon mixed in, just like in that movie he had watched with you and your son recently... Oh, what was it called?... He couldn't remember.

They talked about the dream. Shinsou told your son all the ways that he remembered to be brave when he was afraid.

And ever since then, your son went to Shinsou for everything. It was like he was obsessed with your boyfriend.

Ever since then, they were best friends, always getting into one thing or another together.

413 notes · View notes

kithtaehyung · 1 year

Text

busted (3tan) (m) | myg

title: busted pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) , jungkook x reader(f) series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: when things go a bit south at your house party, decisions between you and yoongi have to be made. note: well. here we are, y’all. it’s been quite a long time, but we are back to regularly scheduled programming :’)) thank you to everyone that has supported and encouraged me throughout this whole process – and series, for that matter. i couldn’t have done this without y’all and the next part is already in the works. also i cried a lot writing this lol have fun! note 2: happy birthday, hedgehog! and to colourless and nicki and whoever else had birthdays recently, consider this my gift to y’all! warnings: language, the amount of content itself fck i’m so sorry, parties, alcohol consumption, tense situations, shoving, abandonment mentions (parental), obligatory yoongi on the phone, ch*king, head/hair pulling, reader has a pain kink and it shows oops, angst, overthinking :((, penetrative s*x, chains but come on now, protective s*x, cowgirl, or*l (m/f rec), edg*ng a ha ha, thro*tf*cking, kissing :’))), kissing D:, did i say angst?, bro😵‍💫, but also bro😭, jungkook gets a warning too, yoongi’s jeans are as ripped as he is heyo, hitting from the b b back, yoongi king of consent sheesh, multiple org*sms, spitting lmfao, sl*t/wh*re mentions, yoongi jfc lol, the aftercare y’all i–😭, the ending🧍 drop date: june 9th, 2023, 7:17pm est word count: 18.8k gdi

Here goes nothing and everything.

It was fifteen years ago when you first met Jungkook. When the sidewalks in your neighborhood were fewer and the occupancy in your house was higher.

A tiny boy, he was immediately ready to stay by your side, despite the limited amount of time he got to hang around before his parents corralled his energy back inside their car.

Later on, he would tell you that had something to do with them not wanting him influenced by your brother and his group. But you didn’t know that at the time.

Ever since the two of you met, you became the best of friends. And as you grew older, it was only natural that feelings bloomed with everything else.

In the midst of an ever changing garden, you found something that never wavered, vibrant in color and immovable at its root.

Which was strange. You’d never compared people to flora before him.

But, because of Jungkook, you couldn’t help but see everyone as such—lilies, buttercups, the ones that trap to survive.

And he was the prettiest, strongest flower of them all.

There was rain. There were storms. But with them came hope, and a pair of cheap rings that the two of you bought nestled nicely in boxes, waiting to be unearthed when you were ready.

However.

What also came was a lesson. One that you would learn again when two of every seat remained unused in your household.

A lesson that people are more like seasons than flowers.

They change with or without you.

And they pass by.

“We can go somewhere quieter if you want,” Jungkook offers. And you know he’s going to suggest your room before he even utters the words.

But of course he adds a small, “If I’m allowed in there anymore.”

When he laughs, your smile is as slow as your head shake, a few memories of old tasting bittersweet on your tongue. “We can.”

“Okay.”

When you make your way to your room, you hear the thumps of music and rhythms of conversation—both casual and loud—echoing throughout the house. Some people are sharing laughs, others are scooting just a bit closer, and a lucky one is cackling before demanding that everyone hand over their money.

All of them oblivious to the fact that you’re about to rip off a piece of your heart.

Well. That may not be the case. But based on the conversation that you had with Jungkook before your interview, this wasn’t going to be an easy one in the slightest—not for him, nor for you.

But if he’s gonna keep pushing forward, this is a stop you need to put up regardless.

During a party isn’t what you had in mind, though. Much less one in your own house.

You don’t know if anyone sees you open your door for Jungkook to pass through, or if they notice the slump of your mood, but you figure no one will care anyways.

Until you see someone out of the corner of your peripheral.

And the skip of your heart tells you who it is.

Occupying one of the hallways a ways away, you can tell he’s very aware of you despite being in the middle of a chatty group.

But what’s on his mind? Is he worried? Is he gonna ask what this is about?

Damn it. You’re just gonna have to tell him later. You can’t exactly do anything now.

A voice peeps from behind your tense shoulders,

“You okay?”

Fuck.

Turning, you nod to the boy in your room before shutting your door, giving one more look to the man whose last text you couldn’t read.

And the way he stares makes you wanna bolt from everyone entirely.

When your door clicks shut, you slowly swivel, only the bass of your brother’s music pushing the walls in closer.

Jungkook’s doing exactly what you knew he’d do, wandering around your room and either leaning in to observe, or lightly touching things that he remembers.

The soft puff of a laugh snaps you into focus. “I can’t believe you still have all his medals up.”

Ah. He even remembers the way you have all your brother’s trophies and achievements displayed—all because you liked seeing them shine, and he didn’t want them in his room.

Sweeping your gaze along two of your walls, you let out a tiny sound of amusement while agreeing, “I can. Too lazy to take them down.”

“I can do it,” he immediately responds. “If you need me to.”

If it had been five years ago, you would’ve been enamored that he even offered.

But five years ago is when he shattered any hopes you had for the two of you, so you turn him down yet again. “It’s okay.”

“You sure?”

“We’re here to talk, not decorate, Jungkook.”

He stares before nodding in dejection, eyes finding something other than you. “It’s still weird to hear you say my name.”

It’s weird to say it.

But you can’t let him know you agree, so the sound you make is half-cautious and weakly lighthearted. “You think so?”

“Ah, yeah.” He flashes a smile that still squeezes air from your lungs. “I’d gotten too used to all the names you had for me.”

“Oh, god.”

“But I guess someone else gets to hear them now.”

Goddamn it. He’s not gonna give up, just like he said right before your interview.

“Who are you seeing?”

“Kook…”

“I wanna know.”

“Why?”

He walks over to your nightstand, picking up a picture of you and your friends from years back.

And your heart pangs at how big his back has become.

Without turning, Jungkook lifts his head to stare at your ceiling. And if he’s wondering whether the glow stars he stuck all over it are still there or not, you don’t know if you’d admit that you never took them down.

“So that I’d know if I still have a chance.”

“You already had yours,” you whisper. “Remember?”

And when you look up, he’s already staring at you with regret.

Memories start to come back, but you shove them away with force, trying to empty your sinking boat with a teaspoon.

Every time he had walked back from school with you, every time he would make you laugh when you felt alone, every time he stayed at your place when your brother had to be out—all of them competed with each other to punch you in the gut and push you to your knees.

“I do,” is all he says before softly placing the frame on your bed. “I fucked that up, didn’t I.”

The times he said he’d be there when you needed him, the times he said it was gonna be okay when you struggled with your seemingly deepest darkest secrets.

All the times you knew you’d have a long future with him.

“You did.”

Everything leading up to the time he said you should break up before you left for university.

Right before you were going to tell him you loved him.

Your heart hasn’t beat in awhile, but you don’t notice until Jungkook starts walking towards your planted feet. Was he really so far away? How did he cover the distance between so fast?

With a sigh occupying your chest, you muse that he looks so different, but also not different at all.

And just like the time you saw him downtown, your brain doesn’t know how to separate the Jungkook you knew from the one you see in front of you.

Because they are still the same.

You don’t budge as he stands resolute, inches away but encasing you in his familiar presence. When his hand comes up to your face, he almost touches—but the slight hesitation has you holding your breath before he surrenders his hand at his side.

“I was an idiot,” he admits, throat seemingly small and making yours the same size. “I never should’ve… I can’t believe I…”

You watch as he flips his head up, and you hate how you know exactly what he’s trying to hide.

But your soul still remembers the wound it was dealt. So while you don’t want him feeling this way, you’re perfectly okay to fight back.

He doesn’t get to cry when he’s the reason for all those tears.

“And yet you did,” you remind him, proud of how stable your voice leaves lips that used to seek his. “And you left me so fucking confused.”

“I know.”

“Do you really?”

He flickers regretful eyes your way, giving you all the room to talk.

And you’re going to.

“Do you actually know, Kook? How fucked up that made me feel right before going where I knew nobody. No one.”

His nostrils flare while eyebrows flinch.

You expel a tough breath, everything that happened before bubbling up to the surface. The nights you spent wondering what happened, the days you spent feeling unwanted, the times you felt so fucking alone.

“Is it true that you even loved me?”

“Yes,” he finally shatters, face contorting and eyes welling at their rims. “Of course I did.”

Did.

“I still do.”

Liar.

“I thought I was the only one.” You search his eyes, hating how you would comfort him in an instant if this were any other circumstance. Hating, hating, loathing that this is how you find out your love wasn’t unrequited. “Why did you push me away?”

“I didn’t—I didn’t mean to…” He turns, unable to handle the loud silence streaming from your bones. Voice shaken, he flounders, “I don’t know. I’ve—”

When he pauses, it’s to keep his lips from shaking. You just know it.

“I’ve regretted it every day since.”

“Bullshit.”

“I have!”

“Really. So all those texts you never sent were full of regret, too, huh?”

“No, I—”

“All those calls you never made.”

“I wanted to call!”

“You wanted nothing to do with me!”

“No! That’s not true—”

“Liar!”

He digs palms into the soaking divots of his face, tense at all angles and making you so, so angry that this is what the both of you have come to.

“I’m not lying!”

“You are!”

You thought it would feel better seeing him cry.

But it’s not, it’s not, it’s not. You hate this.

Because Jungkook made sure your tears were short-lived. Made sure to chase them away every single time—

There’s a rapid twist of your locked doorknob before you hear a shout,

“What the hell’s going on in there!”

Shit, your brother. Were you both yelling?

…Were you both that loud?

“We’re fine!” you shout back, embarrassed that your fight somehow managed to outperform the aux. “It’s okay.”

“Open the door.”

“No.”

“You better be serious—”

“Promise!” You look toward the shouts. “We’re okay.”

“…Okay.”

And then it’s completely silent.

But you know he hasn’t left.

Fuck, he can’t hear the rest of this. He shouldn’t have heard any of it in the first place, and you can feel the heat of his questions coming later tonight.

Which, you are fine answering when it’s just the two of you. But you cannot have anyone hovering right now so you go to open the door and tell him off,

“Dude, I said I’m—”

Oh, fuck.

Yoongi’s right there with him.

And your heart fucking lurches.

Fuck fuck fuck they both see your tears and you’re getting moved aside before you know it now there’s—

“The fuck are you doing making them cry?”

“Wait, it’s not like th—”

“You come into our house after years—”

“Stop!”

“And pull some shit like this?”

Alarmed, you squeeze yourself between him and a very wide-eyed Jungkook, having to wrestle an angry wrist off a captured bicep. “Seriously, relax!”

You and your brother have a thousand differences.

But one thing you two have in common?

He’s just as stubborn as you are.

A strong swipe moves you back so fast that your feet can’t keep up, and you find yourself stumbling until firm hands and familiar cologne keep you upright, voices springing up all at once.

“I’m not—”

“Hey—!”

“The fuck—”

“What’s wrong with you?” you question, commanding attention and snagging both your brother’s and Jungkook’s stares.

Barely even caring if they see where you are and who’s holding you.

Because this is all stupid. It’s not fucking high school and you aren’t some kid that needs their useless, shitty, good-for-nothing parents to stand up for them.

Resisting Yoongi’s grip until he lets go, you stalk up to rip your brother’s hand off your ex’s arm, voice darkened and sharp, “Get out.”

Breath hard, the reply you get is directed more at Jungkook than your own pinched brows,

“Why should I.”

“Cus it’s fine,” you shoot out, sparing a glance at Yoongi and regretting it immediately.

Because he’s not looking at you. He probably wasn’t ever looking at you.

No. Based on that look alone, he’s been eyeing Jungkook with an energy that sends chills straight through your veins.

It’s so unmoving, so infernal that your throat dries, forcing you to swallow before laying more reassurance on three pairs of tense shoulders. “It’s alright, okay? We’re just talking.”

“…So it’s like that?”

Jungkook immediately replies to your sibling with a monotone, “Of course it is.”

To which he moves forward again before you stop him with a hand and a shout,

“The fuck it isn’t—”

“It is! Fucking hell, dude...”

You force an exhale, hating how your room is overflowing while you’re still drowning in the conversation prior.

Because now one talk is gonna sprout into three, and you already dread what each one is going to look like when it develops.

You hope Jungkook understands that you’re done.

You hope your brother understands that you’re tired.

And, above all the others, you hope to any high power out there that Yoongi understands that you are anything but finished.

When the tension doesn’t budge, you sigh and shift your weight.

“Look. We’re just talking. But I need to speak to him alone.” You breathe with finality, eyeing your sibling and his ride or die—hating and loving how ready they are to do whatever they need to, together.

But they don’t have to do anything.

Except let you do this yourself.

“Please.”

After a moment, they both look over your shoulder before your brother watches your face again.

But Yoongi seems to have finally caught Jungkook’s attention, because his eyes haven’t broken their lock until you say something,

“Trust me.”

Two weighty seconds pass before both men nod. And they leave without a word, emotions toppling on each other as soon as your door shuts.

When you walk up to lock it shut, you stare at the knob in silence.

While that was massively uncalled for, it could’ve gone much worse. You can already think of over a hundred outcomes, because that’s a look you’ve seen on your brother many times.

However. That’s not what has you lost in thought.

What keeps you frozen is the fact that you have never seen Yoongi like that.

It almost scared you, but somehow comforts you all the same. You can still feel the way he subtly squeezed you in assurance, pressing you into him when you really didn’t fall that far. There’s a jittering in your chest that hasn’t simmered, and it makes you feel like you’re halfway floating back to where Jungkook stands.

But you’re promptly grounded when you rejoin him, voice soft when you ask if he’s okay.

“He hasn’t changed,” is all he whispers.

And you look at the door with a sigh of disappointment. “He has a little. Still uptight as ever, but. At least I can leave the house.”

“Yoongi was a surprise.”

Oxygen abandons your lungs before you quickly catch yourself. “They’re best friends.”

Jungkook glares at the floor in thought before exhaling, and his silence seems charged. Almost off.

“Right.”

…Well, what the hell is that supposed to mean?

Is it because he saw when Yoongi caught you? Or the fact that he showed up at all?

“Hey,” you whisper, hoping to rope him away from whatever scary things he could be pondering. When he flicks his attention to you, it takes a lot to not flinch at his watery eyes. “Ignore them. We aren’t finished here.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and your conversation jumps right back to where it was. “For everything.”

“I know.” You close your eyes before sadness lowers your gaze. “But it’s gonna hurt for awhile.”

Even if you get this closure, it can’t cover all the years he made you doubt yourself. Made you feel like everything you went through was a lie and that love was something you just didn’t deserve. Confidence vaporized as a result, leaving nothing but issues and manufactured intimacy for years.

Maybe that’s why everyone said you were a bad lay before. Because you actually were.

Through your thick haze, you hear a faint, broken,

“You loved me?”

“I…” Don’t say it. Don’t tell him. “I still do.”

“What?”

Fuck.

It’s true. While he broke your heart first, he still cared for it more than anyone else after him had—until recently. The only grief he gave you was the breakup, which was why it threw you for an absolute loop.

As you grew up, though, you started to rationalize that the split was a good decision. He was moving, and you were leaving for college. How would you both have fared with the long distance? It probably would have ended one way or the other anyways.

So while the resentment burned your heart, it didn’t quite rid you of affection. What you feel as a result is similar to before, but so very, very different. Subdued. Faded. Like jeans you wore constantly but haven’t touched in years.

In all honesty, what broke you the hardest was losing a dear friend.

“I do,” you finally admit, not looking at him because of your next words, “But not the way you want me to.”

Jungkook doesn’t respond, letting the outside world bleed into the room like a bitter interlude.

When he still makes no sound, you lift weary eyes to check on him.

And your chest constricts at the way he looks utterly and totally lost.

When you call his name, his gaze doesn’t leave the floor. When you whisper it again, the tear that falls makes you weak. “Kook, what’s wrong?”

He finally looks up, and you feel your eyes quickly reflect his. “I was so stupid,” he sniffles, wiping his nose. “I really didn’t know. Honestly, I knew that was impossible.”

For some reason, this makes you chuckle, and a new mood starts to paint the walls. “Why?”

“Because you were so cool.” His smile hasn’t changed. And that’s what cuts the deepest. “And I was just there because I always was.”

“What?” You start to join him in bittersweet recollection, albeit from a different perspective. When you reach forward to point at his necklace—because you will not touch the ring—you softly laugh. “Then what were these for, silly?”

When he sighs, you can feel the cracks in his curve. “I’ve been told that I’m clueless.”

“You are,” you say with a sagging grin. “Extremely.”

He laughs again. So do you.

And the both of you break all at once.

He’s crushing you in a hug and you’re crying into his clothes, hands gripping at his jacket and shoulder feeling the weight of his world.

While he repeats that he’s sorry, you choke out that you are, too. When he says it was never your fault, you cry even harder.

You fucking hate this. Now that you know the truth, it hurts that much worse. You hate, hate, hate that this is what everything came to. Everything that you both went through, destroyed by one mistake at the bitter end.

But you need to move on. You need to sacrifice the past for the future.

“I still love you,” he whispers, and you tense when he tightens his arms. “And I’m still sorry.”

“You idiot,” you cry into his chest, and you hear him hold back a sob before burying his head again.

And the two of you stay like that. One last embrace that you both needed.

Reminiscing over everything that doesn’t matter anymore.

When you both calm, you feel like it’s been hours.

But you move to step away first, confused at the way he doesn’t let you leave.

What’s he doing? Why is his mouth hovering over yours? You need to move. You need to move away.

But all you can do is plead, “I can’t.”

Still, Jungkook moves in.

Leaning to kiss just next to your lips instead.

What once would have lit your soul on fire now feels like a tempered flame, the smallest light of a candle before it burns out. And you’re grateful that he respects you enough to not push in a time of weakness.

You move away again, and he lets you go this time. But not without last words, “Promise me this person is alright.”

“I promise.”

“Only alright? I have a chance then.”

“Kook.” When you give him an empty glare, dying stars still linger in his eyes. “Friends?”

His lips give away his breaking heart before he nods. “I’m not leaving you again.”

Swallowing, you spread a thankful smile. “You better not,” you sniffle. “I need to decorate.”

He huffs, giving you one more teary stare. “If they ever hurt you, let me know.”

“I’ll be okay.”

After a noncommittal nod, he stands until you politely tell him you need a minute. When he leaves, you wait until the door shuts before wiping nothing from your cheek.

Wondering why this closure doesn’t make you feel better in the slightest.

You don’t know how long it’s been. Time doesn’t exactly flow when you’re caught between the past and the present.

But when you open your door, Dom is watching you with pure, unadulterated focus.

And your face scrunches in pain before she ushers you back inside.

She doesn’t say anything as you sit on your bed, offering her shoulder even though she doesn’t prefer physical contact.

While you’re grateful—so, so thankful for her presence—intermittent sniffles are the only sound you’re capable of.

Until you stabilize and come up for air, fishing words from your river of grief, “Remember what I told you. When he broke up with me.”

Anger simmers in her reply as her shoulder moves under your chin. You assume by the movements that she’s typing something on her phone—or prepping for revenge, either one of the two. “I do.”

“He said he still loves me.”

Your first thought is proven correct as a device plops onto your comforter. “Bullshit.”

“Dom…”

“What? Like he loved you then, too?” She scoffs. “You were the one that loved him and he cut you out. He needs to get over that.”

“He said it was a mistake.”

“It sure as fuck was.”

“I dunno. Something just doesn’t sit right.” You swipe at your nose. “He looked so.. I just…”

“Uh uh. It’s too fresh.” She gently lifts your heavy cloud off her person, firm fingers squeezing out rain. “You gotta get out of your own damn head right now.”

“I know.”

“Now.”

You break into another sob, hiccuping before nodding. “It just sucks, Dom. I d—”

“Look, I get that. But everything you’re thinking about already happened. It’s done.” A glance is thrown behind her back before she swivels around. “Focus on what you have now.”

In your moments of weakness, you ask the dumbest things,

“What do I have now.”

As always, Dominique is quick and to the point. “A man that’s waiting outside your door.”

Huh?

Your eyes flash up to hers as she stands. “Wait, what?”

What did she say? What does she mean? How does she know that what’s going on—

“One minute,” she warns, far away and not to you. “Then you’re on your own.”

“K.”

Wait, what.

You don’t even realize you’re vacating your bed as you see him walk in, nodding back at Dom closing the door before regarding your wreck of a face.

His name is molasses on your tongue.

What is he doing? Isn’t the party still on? Why is he walking closer?

He’s not supposed to be in here he can’t be here and you’re telling him that but he pulls you in so tight that the rest of your tears rain down in sheets.

“Fuck,” is all you can manage now, and he crushes you in even harder, as if he wants you pressed against all of him forever like a keepsake leaf on a journal page.

Your voice writes words into his clothes, silence his only reply but the only one you need.

Even if you only get a minute, this is enough. It’s enough, not enough, enough.

When he holds you at arm’s length, his question comes out a bit fast-paced, “What happened?”

Damn it. As much as you should probably tell him, you use precious seconds to pause, not really knowing if you want to or not.

“Don’t sweat it,” he quickly understands, kissing your forehead just as chaste. When he moves again, you catch the tension in his shoulders, notice the ruffles in his hair. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yes. No.” Fuck, he kinda looks as rattled as you feel. What is happening right now? “I just, umm. I need a minute.”

“You don’t have to go back out there, you know.”

“But you do,” you counter. “And I just wanna see you.”

Finally, Yoongi stops, and his whole upper body relaxes at once. A beautiful sound to your ears, amusement huffs out his nose before he mutters, “You can’t keep saying shit like that.”

“But it’s true.”

His chuckle is light, and mischievous eyes find the ground before they lift to yours,

“Makes me wanna take you home.”

Well. You swiftly realize why he doesn’t want you to keep saying certain things. The zing of emotion through your body was definitely uncalled for.

Any other day, you would want this type of conversation to keep going. And maybe you’d be a little coy about it.

But right now, all you are is tired, and your barriers are crumbled enough for a truth to escape.

Resigned, you step closer to wrap his waist in your arms, not caring if he can feel the rapid beats of your heart. “I want you to do that,” you admit, breath warming your face on his already warmer shirt. “All the time.”

“Take you home?”

“Mmhmm.”

Yoongi runs fingers along your arm. “You know I’d do it if I could, doll.”

If you were someone else. If you didn’t have to hide.

If you didn’t have to wait.

At least you don’t have to wait for much longer. Definitely can’t say anything to your brother tonight, but you and Yoongi agreed on after this party. So things will be better from here on out.

But why does he seem so—

You’re spooked by a warning knock on your door, and you flicker eyes to see his filled with something you don’t like.

And the air suddenly shifts to something alarming.

“Listen.”

“Hmm?”

“I know we said we’d say something.”

Oh. You shake your head, already on the same page and liking how in sync you are. “There’s no way. At least, not tonight. Jungkook—”

“It may need to be a bit longer than that.”

Huh.

What does he mean by—

“So you probably won’t see me for awhile.”

You freeze.

So does time.

A minute is no longer enough.

“Yoongi, please—”

“Can you do that?”

Your heart slams against your ribcage, banging and banging and screaming that what he’s asking is not possible.

Because he isn’t asking what you want to do. He isn’t even asking how long you can wait.

There’s a reason why he’s risking all sorts of shit to say this in person. Why he seems so restless.

And you’re already missing him so hard it hurts.

Truthfully? You can’t do this. Not now. Not when your heart is bleeding out on your own bedroom floor. There isn’t even enough time to process Jungkook’s talk and now you need to deal with this?

“Babe?”

But despite what you feel, even if your throat is seizing and your chest is caving in, your answer will be what he needs.

Because seeing Yoongi look like this—torn and frayed at the edges—renders you powerless and protective all at once. For fuck’s sake, he looks slightly panicked and this is the second new side of him you’ve seen tonight.

And yet he found a way to be with you one last time.

Sacrificing seconds just to say goodbye.

So you give up something, too. Your wants and needs because you don’t think you can do this, but it seems way too important to him to not try.

You get it. That whole confrontation probably snapped all sense back into him. He doesn’t want to hurt his best friend. Or disrupt his work environment. Or both. Whatever whatever whatever. You should’ve seen this coming.

If distance is what he wants, you’ll give it. Instant karma because you just told someone else to give you some, too.

Of course you lose someone as soon as you gain back another.

“Doll, let me know because—”

“Anything,” you rush out, and yearning taints your voice on the descent. “I’ll do it.”

He pans from one eye to the other, and you weakly reveal a crack in your resolve,

“Anything for you.”

That answer was a lot more than what you meant to say. And the next look he gives rips you into shreds. Shreds of the bigger truth you just told him with moments left of his time.

“For us,” he corrects, swooping in to give you one more soul-shattering kiss.

And with that, he pulls away, turning to retreat into the real world that proves absurdly cruel.

You don’t know when you’ll get to be alone with him again. It could be a day. Or months. Or even longer.

But watching him go, you know you can get through this. You know you can do it.

Because this is nothing new. Just another person leaving. You’ve gone through it before and you’ll go through it again and this time will be different, right? Right? He’ll come back. Of course he will.

And yet there’s still a part of you that questions.

If people are like seasons…

Which one will Yoongi be?

Fuck.

Your body is moving before the rest of you does, and you propel forward to tug him in, flooding his lips with saltwater and longing and a deluge of reluctant trust.

And he responds in an instant, swallowing you in an embrace you’ll cherish forever and willingly giving in to your desperate tugs on his jacket.

“Yoongi, I—”

You hear another insistent knock before he slings you into the nearest wall, and he grips the back of your head so hard you sob into his mouth.

“I know.”

His name rattles around your mouth.

“It’ll be okay.”

You wanna believe him.

“Okay?”

But you only nod, eyes filled with oceans but gaze unwavering. Because you need to see him. Because you need to see him.

“Fuck.”

He smashes his lips on yours once more, capturing every soft plea for him to stay and holding you so tightly that your heart splinters. And while you know this is his way of telling you everything will be okay, you have a sinking suspicion that he is fighting to believe it himself.

It’s not fair.

None of this is fucking fair.

If he was anyone else, if you were anyone else, if your brother wasn’t the way he was, if Jungkook wasn’t in the position he’s in now.

It was just nights ago that you cradled all his moonlight in your palms.

And now you’ll be farther apart than stars.

Yoongi finally pulls away right as Dom opens the door, and a myriad of emotions slosh into your brain when his eyes never leave you.

“I got us,” he vows, finger on your chin the sole thing keeping you afloat, and you suspend in disbelief that someone you know is witnessing his lips press your forehead in real time and no explosions or helicopters are crashing onto the scene.

Just a panicked “Hurry up, for god’s sake!” to indicate your friend is not amused or phased.

Yoongi finally steps away, slowly backing up before slipping out, and the door closes with only you inside—hand clawing deep into your chest.

Because you know him well enough.

He was committing your every feature to memory.

And the desperation in his reddened eyes hunches you forward in pain.

The rest of the party goes on. Music booms, people laugh, conversations sparkle.

And you hear them all through your door.

Unmoved from the spot everyone left you in.

Idiot🙄 [1:34am]: Hey

Idiot🙄 [1:34am]: You up or nah?

You [1:40am]: yeah

Idiot🙄 [1:40am]: Help me clean up

You scoff at your phone, letting it fall from your hand before resting tired eyes between your knees.

When it buzzes again, you reluctantly read it with vision unreflecting.

Idiot🙄 [1:42am]: Left food for you, too

That you will leave your room for. You may have just cried out your weight in tears alone.

You🙄 [1:46am]: ok

Idiot🙄 [1:46am]: 👍

Cleaning is a quiet event, with you both doing the chores you’ve defaulted to over the years. While he clears the floors and deals with the trash, you steadily get through the dishes, scrubbing them as well as you can before placing them in the washer to dry.

A plate. A bowl after that.

Two whisky glasses even though there were plenty of solo cups to use.

You needed this. Needed a way of going through the motions and letting your brain fly on autopilot. If you sniffle, the water drowns it out, and only the dishes get to see any lingering tears.

And unluckily for you, there are plenty of both.

“Hey.”

You hum.

“Do I need to beat his ass?”

Well, that didn’t take long.

Frustration tears its way up your throat on all fours, “I should kick yours for what you did back there.”

“And I’d deserve it.”

You pause.

“But I still wanna know.”

Sighing, you shake your head, knowing that neither of you are angry enough to fight anyways. “No, okay? I was serious. We talked.”

“I know you talked but he still hurt you.”

Your lip stings under your teeth.

“And I can’t just let that go.”

When he stops, you place another dish on its rack. “Let’s just finish and I’ll tell you everything in a sec.”

He sets down the last of his trash before retiring in the living room, the thump of weary weight squeezing a sigh out of the couch.

And you eventually join him, water cutting off with a squeak before you shuck off your gloves.

As you walk through the cleaned-enough rooms, you keep hearing afterimages of conversations, wondering how many revolved around your shouting match with Jungkook, or how many speculated who Yoongi is or isn’t seeing.

All these pretend scenarios mock you from all sides.

But the conversation you’re about to have with your brother is gonna be real. And a long time coming, quite frankly.

You take a breath before crossing into a space that’s seen and heard many things. While you take residence in your regular spot on the sofa, your brother doesn’t deter his gaze from a television that’s not on.

But as soon as you blurt out your confession, he slowly closes his eyes.

“He broke up with me. Before I left for school.”

“...Why didn’t you tell me.”

Brows scrunched, you waste no time in pinning him with your response, “Did you see yourself back there? Imagine if you found out back then.”

Silence.

“Besides,” you continue, deflating back into the cushions, “He was moving, remember? And you had enough going on. I didn’t want you to worry.”

“I always worry.”

“It’s whatever at this point. I didn’t even know he was back until Yoo—you told me.”

Shit, that was close.

“I shouldn’t have made it a surprise.”

“Not your fault. What’s done is done.” When you observe the blank screen, you can see your brother aim a look your way. “Just made the whole uni thing miserable at first.”

And the years after, too, but he doesn’t need the same details that Yoongi got.

He sighs, hand scratching the side of his head before free-falling. When it’s quiet, you think he’s preparing for war. Prepping a vow to go after Jungkook and dealing with a problem that’s not yours anymore.

But he doesn’t do that. What he says catches you completely off guard.

An apology.

“I’m sorry I’m always gone. Or not really here when I’m back.”

Where did that come from? Are you already done with a talk you dreaded for years?

This can’t be it.

Blinking, your mouth slowly opens before you respond as level as possible. “It’s okay. I can pretty much fend for myself at this point.”

“I know. But I’ll try to be better.”

He’s gonna what? “Why?”

“Cus I feel… Uhh.” He moves his lips around in thought, as if the next sentence takes strategy to arrange. “I feel like we don’t really talk anymore.”

“…Oh.”

You’re thoroughly thrown. Because who the hell is this person you’re talking to right now? What’s up with him? He doesn’t need to try anything better except calm the fuck down sometimes. And let you be an adult.

And frankly, you feel like you talk a normal amount anyway. At least, you didn’t think anything was off about it.

What the hell happened after he left your room?

Suddenly, you see him laugh at the ground before asking it a question. “Remember when we’d go get our own food?”

Alright, he’s definitely drunk or a clone.

But you’ll take it. This switch in what you expected this conversation to be is a welcome one, and you softly entertain memories that aren’t supposed to be this funny. “Yeah. We’d get told to come back with our parents.”

“Until they realized we kept going alone.”

A memory makes you smirk. “You even tried dressing like a grown up.”

He chuckles again, elbows resting on his knees as he watches your coffee table. “I really thought I did it, too.”

“You did.” Thinking about all the shit you both went through, it’s truly a wonder how you’re both still here. Living and existing and doing big things.

A rueful chuckle leaves your lips, floating to the floor. “We’re fucked up, huh.”

“Very,” he agrees. “But who isn’t.”

True. “It could be worse, I think.”

“How?”

You play with some of the frays on your sofa, wondering when this piece of furniture started to resemble thin lines of too-soft polyester at its edges.

Did it start to give up around the same time your parents did? Or had their patience worn thin way before the threads on this cushion began to fade?

Whichever truth remains, at least it’s still here—witnessing all the struggles and triumphs, the highs and lows, and all the times the two of you had sat in puffy-eyed silence.

Together.

“They could’ve left us somewhere else.”

“Ah,” he nods, slowly shaking his head and twisting the watch on his wrist. “Nah.”

Silent, your eyes find his side profile in due time. “No?”

And his glare burns the path ahead. Just like it always has. “I wouldn’t have let them.”

“Oh, really.”

“I got them to leave us all this, didn’t I?”

Wait, he did what now?

…You didn’t know that.

“Hold on,” you breathe slow. “That’s what happened?”

“We had a deal.” He sighs before leaning all the way back, hands joined at the knuckles on his stomach. “If I graduated with full marks and, uhh. Got a starting salary high enough, they’d pay for your tuition.”

The pause he makes weighs a ton.

“And leave this to us when you came back.”

So… He…

Holy shit.

You were just fucking relieved you didn’t have to pay any loans. For once, you thought your parents really had your best interests in mind and did something out of kindness before peacing the fuck out.

But it’s all because your brother negotiated and pulled off the near impossible?

…Is he paying loans?

“I didn’t know any of that,” you whisper, finding yourself on the verge of tears again.

He simply shrugs, looking down at his cherished piece that he rarely takes off. “You didn’t need to. You were just a kid.”

“So were you.”

Your brother purses his lips, and you wonder what words he could be holding back. What thoughts he has that he won’t say out loud. If any of them are things he wants to say but can’t.

“It’s whatever.”

He had to grow up fast so that you didn’t have to.

And you don’t have the heart to tell him that university fast tracked that anyways.

So, while grateful as hell and knowing you’ll be thinking about this conversation for years, you switch the subject. You’re already overwhelmed as is.

And you suddenly understand what Yoongi might be struggling with, too.

Because if he did all this for you, what lengths has he gone for his best friend?

Shoving that thought into a far corner of your brain, you rest your head to mirror your sibling, letting your tears slide back to where they came from. “I, umm. Was wondering why they left us the house. But I figured they just didn’t wanna pay for it.”

“It was already paid off,” he explains, seemingly just as happy to talk about something else. “Don’t ask me how I know this, but it’s how I was able to negotiate in the first place. They had four other properties, and a condo on some island.”

“What.”

“That’s why they were rarely here. Work trips, my ass.” He scoffs before bouncing a leg. “And they had us in this place.”

“I like it here, though.”

“I do, too, but…” You hear a shuffle of his feet before he stops. “I just. I dunno, it’s just us here. It feels...”

“Empty?”

“Maybe. More like something’s missing? I dunno, that’s probably lame.”

You inhale before assuring him. “It’s not.”

And with that, you’re both left to stare at the same ceiling, conversation stewing and simmering around the whole room.

Usually, this is when you leave. Because you don’t wanna talk about shit like this, or you simply feel like doing anything else.

But tonight, you want to stay. You didn’t know these things about your brother and what he did, and it’s making you realize a lot of things.

And regret others.

A question rolls off your tongue before you can overthink it, “Do you ever wonder what we did wrong?”

“All the time.”

“When I think about it, I always end up thinking the same thing.”

“Hmm.”

You tilt your head his way. “We weren’t the adults. But neither were they.”

And you both huff in tandem after he grins. “Damn.”

You don’t know how the two of you got here. But it was much better than talking about anything else, and you silently thank him for not making you more miserable than you already were.

Truthfully, you feel a little better instead.

He just needs to know for sure that you really are past the whole situation. Mostly. A healthy amount, at least.

So you tell him. “I mean it, thou—”

“I’m sorry.”

“Huh?” You look over to see regret fill his side of the couch.

“For what I did. I was outta line.”

“Oh.” You swallow, surprisingly emotional that he’s even owning up to it. You know it only happened because he was being protective, but hearing this from him is huge. That had to be hard. “Thank you.”

“I just.. I love you, okay?” He turns to look at the ceiling again, and you quickly have to do the same because you know how that was even tougher to say. “You and my brothers.. You’re all I’ve got.”

Liquid emotion runs down your cheek, never having been told that more than once in a single day.

It’s a shame how foreign it sounds when you say it back.

But that doesn’t make it any less true.

“Love you, too.”

An hour later, you find yourself in bed, clutching your phone while a single question loops through your brain.

…Calling should be okay, right?

Even if you can’t see him, or really be in the same room, this should be okay. At least, in the dead of night when even birds are asleep. When no one is awake to judge you both for lying to the people you...

Your chest squeezes when you press down on your decision, the talk with your brother repeating in your ears.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

It’s ringing.

Still ringing.

…And you feel your chest cave when you hear it go to voicemail.

Fuck.

Maybe he’s sleeping already. Unforeseen circumstances like emotional turmoil tend to slow down your getting ready for bed process, so it took a lot longer than usual. Maybe he isn’t actively avoiding your calls and is just face down in a pillow you miss using.

And maybe you need to get used to this god-awful feeling as quickly as you can.

This hollow, aching, painful feeli—

Yoongi: Incoming Call

Your chest booms when you see his name, and you try your absolute hardest to answer normally even though instant tears blur the screen.

“H—”

“Sorry, I was showering, fuck.”

His breath sounds so rushed, and you immediately wonder what he looks like if he didn’t take that long to answer. Imagining him in only a towel or less, you let out a pained chuckle before whispering, “You okay?”

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking that?”

Of course that’s his answer. “I’m not. Just wondering if you were.”

“Why would I be if you aren’t? Ow.”

Body alert, you only focus on that last syllable. “Wait, are you hurt?”

You hear a low grunt before he responds.

“Just hit my fucking knee getting out.”

Ouch. How the hell did he do that? “I’m sorry. You got ice, though, right?”

“It’s not that bad. Just stings.”

“Okay.”

There’s some crunching sounds before you hear footsteps and hisses, and a thump before other noise crackles through.

“Spoke to Kook.”

Shit.

“And the guys.”

Oh. About work. “What’s up?”

“We’re gonna be busy as shit for the next month or two, so.. Guess that came at a good time.”

Ah. No finish line in sight.

But he didn’t hide that information from you, so you appreciate the honesty. Better than him leaving you in complete darkness.

“Yeah, do your thing,” you support. “I need to prep for this interview anyway. And figure shit out if I end up getting the job.”

“When you get it.”

You exhale, shy. “When I get it, yeah.”

“Where is it again? That blue building, yeah?”

“Mmhmm. But where I’ll be is like, third floor.”

“See? Claiming shit already.”

You realize right as he says it, but you meant something completely different. Your laugh is soft. “I meant for the interview.”

“Mm. Well lemme know where you post up after they hire you.”

“Yoongi.”

“Fine.”

“Did you, umm. Did you and Kook talk about anything else?”

“Just work stuff.”

“Okay.” Your eyes lower. If he’s telling you everything, you gotta reciprocate.

Even the stuff you don’t wanna mention. “He tried to kiss me.”

“What.”

Swallowing at his tone, you whisper, “I told him I couldn’t.”

“…I see.”

Fuck. He does not sound okay with that in the slightest. Disappointed with yourself, you apologize, “I’m sorry.”

“Huh? Don’t be.”

“You sound mad.”

There’s another moment of silence, and you don’t think you breathe until he responds,

“Not at you, doll.”

Well, shit. You don’t wanna cause any friction between them, especially after the energy Jungkook gave off earlier. It’s still bugging you to hell. “Nothing happened, baby. But he felt really off after y’all left, so.. I dunno. Be careful.”

“I will. But that means I can’t talk when he’s around.”

You bury your head, watching the hours that you get with Yoongi dwindle away. Knowing Jungkook, he’s gonna immerse himself in whatever keeps him distracted. So he will most likely be at the studio just as much. “At least you were there today,” you whisper.

“Mm.”

“Honestly, I didn’t expect that.”

There’s a breath on the line, and you can tell he’s hesitant just by the way he moves his phone. So when he finally speaks, your jaw goes slack.

“I was there first, doll.”

He what?

“Wait… You were?”

He was at your door first? He has to know how that looked, right? Your brother clearly saw him if he was the one to shout, and yet there was no mention of it when the two of you spoke.

Maybe that’s part of why Yoongi decided what he did. A decision to help you came with consequences he knew were coming. But he did it anyway.

Your breath is suddenly short. And your head is starting to spin with information overload.

“The plan was to only check for a sec, but he had the same idea. Showed up right behind me.”

“So… You both heard—”

“Nothing until the yelling.”

They were there the whole time. Both of them. Yoongi first? Your brother joining him?

Nope. This is too much. All of this is way too much for one night and your head is bursting at the seams.

Just another reason why this separation could be a good thing. Other than the fact that Jungkook seems weird and you can’t see Yoongi at all and him and your brother really are more than friends and you wedged yourself right in between everybody—

Information. Realizations. Guilt. You’re spiraling.

Run.

“I’m, umm. I’m gonna get off now.”

“You okay?”

Say yes. Say anything but “No. I’m… I don’t know, I really don’t know—This is a lot and—”

“Wait—”

“I get it and I’ll stay away for as long as you want—”

“Babe, talk to—”

“Bye, Yoongi.”

And you immediately hang up before your dam floods.

He doesn’t need to hear your grief over the past, your regrets of the present, your fear of the future. He doesn’t need to know how pained you really feel dealing with everything at once. How harsh his departure is because this is when you need him most.

Yoongi: Missed Call

All he needs to know is that you’ll do this for him. Because he would do the same for you.

And he’s done enough for everyone other than himself.

But goddamn if this doesn’t hurt like nothing else you’ve experienced before.

And you’ve been through hell.

Yoongi: Missed Call (2)

Why is he calling? Won’t this just make it harder?

Why does he keep trying if you need to stay away?

Yoongi: Incoming Call

With a heart so busted you don’t know where all the pieces are, you finally reach up to acknowledge his effort.

And his greeting sends a pang through your chest.

“Knew you’d answer on the first try.”

Sniffling, you say his name so, so softly.

“You didn’t let me say bye.”

When you don’t respond, he trudges on.

“So now, you get to hear the longest good night ever.”

Huh?

“And no hanging up this time.”

What the heck does he… mean…

As soon as you hear the light strums of a guitar, your heart shows signs of life. And you let everything out while he gathers the scattered shards with every chord. Every note.

Every second he doesn’t say goodbye.

A river flows into your pillow until it runs dry, and the Moon outside your blinds casts a silver blanket over your defeated shoulders.

And it’s only when you and your phone are dead to the world that the Sun steps in to peel it off with calm palms.

For the first time in a long time, you plan a sleepover at Taehyung’s.

And after getting a rundown of what happened, he completely agrees that you both need it.

It’s been a minute since you slept over there, and rolling onto his driveway makes you remember the first time it happened.

Your brother was outright flabbergasted you even asked.

But after some arguments from you and very clear energy from Tae, your brother waved you off and just demanded no funny shit better happen.

And you’ve spent so many nights over there since then that Taehyung’s one of the people he calls if he’s looking for you.

Being reminded of something else interesting, you think back to the first time you went to Yoongi’s, spending enough time there that he ended up on the list of people to call about your whereabouts.

As hot as he was picking up with a cheeky arm around you, it was surprising he was on that list in the first place.

Well, maybe not. They’re best friends. But why would he—

“You just gonna waste gas in my driveway or what?”

Snapping your head up, you see Taehyung looking bored, hands on his hips and wearing the most comfortable clothes you’ve ever seen.

Your glare in return is empty when you finally get out, circling around to grab your stuff and take-out from the passenger seat.

“You’re lucky I like you,” you joke as he goes to grab the food. Locking your car, you follow his grumbles into the house with a laugh, feeling a little okay already.

“How’s Jimin?”

“Still complicated, but that’s not what we’re here to discuss.”

You sigh before you poke your noodles, knowing you have quite the catch-up to get through. If only your attempt at procrastination worked.

“Eat,” Taehyung orders before taking a hearty slurp of his meal. “I don’t care if you’re sad, this wasn’t cheap.”

“Excuse you.” He’s lucky you resist the urge to fling saucy food all over his shorts. “Also, I paid for it, the hell?”

When your friend blows air through his nose, you scoff before silently doing as he says, pouting at the beginning credits onscreen.

“How long has it been?”

Ah. That’s a good start.

As you peer down at your food, emotion and appetite abandon your palate,

“A month.”

“...Damn.”

Taehyung already knows all about what happened. But even if he didn’t, you think he would’ve caught on to your increasingly depressing song choices. And the way you barely watched Yoongi during the last intramural game.

“How’s the new job, though? Good distraction?”

That you can talk about for hours. “Thank fuck it is.”

“That’s good, at least.”

As your meal progresses, you continue to catch him up on everything, including the way night calls are the only thing keeping your hopes afloat.

Because Yoongi was right. Ever since the party, weekdays have been radio silent, and you soon got accustomed to looking forward to his late texts saying he’s home.

And you’ve been okay with that. Landing the job and getting swamped with training has kept you busy, and your friends have been a wonderful salve for persisting wounds.

It just stings when you know the studio is close by. Because even though Yoongi extended invitations before, you avoid that area like the plague.

“But enough about me,” you huff. “Still complicated with him, huh.”

If Taehyung knows you’re too sad to keep talking, he doesn’t show it. His response simply comes after a few chews. “Yeah. But”—he swallows—“Not in a way I’m mad about.”

“What do you mean?”

Taehyung settles back into the sofa right as a ball of fluff hops on, and you watch the movie roll by while he gently orders him to get down. “He’s not as flaky. We just haven’t really labeled anything yet.”

That’s surprising to hear. Tae doesn’t strike you as the labeling type at all, so your question is genuine, “Do you need one?”

A huff is what you get in return, and you can hear the smile in his tone. “He seems to want one more than me. Which is why I don’t get the hesitation.”

“Mm.”

That makes more sense. Knowing what you know about Jimin, you aren’t shocked he would be conflicted about something he really wants.

Why he’s skirting around the point is the question. It’s clear to you that they would be so cute together. And sickly annoying in public.

“Maybe that’s a good sign,” you blurt, roping your friend’s gaze and attention. Spotlight on you instead of the characters bustling about his television, you smile. “It’s like he’s scared because he cares about your feelings.”

Not unlike what’s happening between another pair of friends you know.

Taehyung blinks, and you’ve always liked the way curiosity widens his eyes.

But he’s so quiet that you shift. “What?”

He keeps staring before biting an incoming smile. Before you can question him again, something brightens his expression. “You’ve changed, you know that?”

Huh. “Me? How?”

Your friend just grins before resting his head on the top of his cushion. “I’ve always known you were amazing. But now you look like you know that, too.”

All thoughts fizzle out before your jaw dips. When you try to present arguments, none materialize, and Taehyung laughs at the way you physically buffer.

“Not even denying it. I like this.”

“Shut up,” you finally pout, embarrassed and shy when he laughs again.

The rest of the film continues with nothing else but your commentary, and Taehyung clicks out of the queue screen before another one can start.

“Break? Or what do you feel like?”

You feel Yeontan’s fluff at your feet. “We can keep going.”

“Mmk.”

Both of you contemplate which one to pick when you feel your phone vibrate a ton. And when you see the notification, your heart leaps before crashing back down to the ground.

Yoongi [5:02pm]: Just got booked for another week

Yoongi [5:03pm]: Can’t talk now but

Yoongi [5:03pm]: Letting you know

Right.

You slowly let your hand drop with a sigh, and you can feel Taehyung’s pitied stare without moving.

“I know,” you whisper. “I shouldn’t be upset.”

“You can definitely be upset.”

You lift weary eyes to see that your assumption was very wrong. There’s no pity evident at all.

Only warmth. And understanding.

“Cus knowing him? He’s probably more frustrated than you are.”

There’s a pinch in your chest, a sharp one that cuts your breath for a small second in time.

Him? Being more upset than you?

You only thought about that possibility once, but you quickly dismissed it. There’s no way.

But hearing Tae say it from a guy’s perspective—and someone that knows how Yoongi can be—gives you pause.

It just didn’t make sense before because he sounds fine when you call, and he doesn’t really talk much about his own shit unless you ask. Which is strange considering he was fine doing so after your huge breakthrough at his place. Granted, it was mostly about good things.

Does he only hold back when it’s about stuff that stresses him out? That’s not ideal. You’ve told him before to tell you what’s bothering him, so if he’s still hesitant to let you in…

Taehyung’s honeyed voice brings you into the present,

“What are you gonna say?”

Blinking, you push your lips together in thought before looking at your phone again.

If Yoongi really is more upset than you are, then you should tell him something that you would wanna hear from him. Even if you aren’t feeling so hot.

You [5:07pm]: how’s ur back feel from carrying everyone so hard🥴

You [5:07pm]: jk its ok<3 you’re getting recognized and it’s about time

When you send those, something strange happens to your shoulders.

They’re lighter.

How is that possible? You’re still sad.

But your mind seems to clear some junk out, instead feeling a little okay about the whole thing.

Hopefully Yoongi receives them well. If he doesn’t, you’ll figure something else out.

Yoongi [5:09pm]: Lmaoo I’m saying. They better run me my check and cover my hospital bills.

You laugh with teary eyes, soul feeling like it’ll live despite plans being pushed back again.

The lingering sadness remains, but it’s dwindled for now. An afterthought to the slight happiness you feel from lifting him up instead of dragging him down.

Another message slides into the thread before you click your phone shut, so when Tae gets more food, you catch what it says.

Yoongi [5:11pm]: Fuck I miss you

And your heart beats extra loud, mouth slightly curved and wobbly because you agree but it’s okay, okay, okay. You can both do this.

You [5:12pm]: i miss you too.. but focus now and tell me all about it later

Of course you want to cry. Of course you want to curl up into a ball and sob.

Yoongi [5:15pm]: Thanks doll

But just like there’s strength in being strong, there’s just as much strength in being gentle.

Because as upset as you feel, it’s better if you don’t show it. While you aren’t completely resolute, you push forward in silence. Even if you can’t see the finish line.

The lingering feeling of anxiousness remains; the what-if’s batter your mind from the inside. But you choose to stay optimistic for him, and even you have to admit that’s admirable.

But the yearning still packs a fucking punch.

Your shoulders must be slumping to hell because you feel a warm presence settle against you, slinging an arm around and holding you close.

The only sound you make is a quick sniffle, but you don’t move as Taehyung reads the thread on your phone.

“You see what I see, right,” is all he whispers.

And when you slightly shrug, he leans his head against yours.

“You will.”

Nodding, you feel more tears follow the paths of their predecessors, and you don’t move to wipe them away. “You’re a good person, Tae.”

His chuckle sounds like a hearth, and you welcome Yeontan’s sniffs on your legs.

“Jimin’s lucky you’re even giving him a chance.”

“Ah.” After squeezing your bicep, your friend reaches down to pick up his baby. “He’s lucky I gave him more than one.”

“Oh? The luckiest then.”

“You can do this,” he murmurs. “He’ll be ready before you know it.”

With heavy eyes, you glance down at your still unfinished food.

“Maybe you’re right.”

One week turns into three.

Then two more pass.

And Taehyung might be less correct than you thought.

“Fuck,” you groan, clutching under your stomach. “Sorry, I’m a mess.”

“It’s okay.”

“At least you don’t have to see me this gross.”

“So?”

“You better stop.” Another eruption of pain shoots through your lower body, and you exhale into your pillow. “This is only making it worse.”

“You got a heating pad?”

A what? How does he know about—

Oh. Right.

…You probably shouldn’t tread waters you don’t know the depths of.

“Yeah. But it’s too far and I’m lazy.”

He laughs in pity but doesn’t show any in his words,

“Go get it, doll.”

Because being reminded of his last relationship also makes you wonder why it ended. And wonder if that also has anything to do with his decision.

Now hurt in multiple ways, you childishly retort, “You get it.”

“I would if I was there. But I’m not, so you’re gonna.”

“Fine.” You huff into your pillowcase, knowing you’re gonna get up because his perfect mix of support and command is annoyingly attractive. “How much longer?”

Yoongi’s too quiet for your tastes.

“I’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

Eyes closed, you’re silent for eons.

“Okay.”

To your confusion, you get a food delivery at your office the next day.

Inspecting the contents of the bag, you’re cautious until you notice a takeout box of mandu under some sweets and a few all too familiar fruits.

And at the note inside, you promptly proceed to the least used bathroom to compose yourself.

Soon.

Soon and Almost are somewhat similar.

Both can give people a bit of hope.

But they can also be the most dangerous words to play with.

Because soon is hilariously arbitrary, and you almost believed it meant something good.

“Going to Yoongi’s.”

“K.”

“You wanna go? He’s having a few people over.”

You bite down so hard your jaw hurts. “Nah, I already have plans tonight.”

“K. Have fun!”

When the door closes, you keep your eyes on the television.

Arms falling at your side because you know you aren’t going anywhere.

On a random Tuesday, you finally get a package you’ve been waiting on for what seems like months, and you rush to your room to check if it’s exactly what you wanted.

When it looks so beautiful, and feels smooth to the touch, you clutch the material in sorrow.

It’s perfect.

And completely useless for the time being.

Calls have been the one thing getting you by.

But over time, even those have virtually stopped.

It can’t be helped. He’s working far too late into the night for you to stay awake, and is passed out by the time you need to wake up.

Spending time with friends helps distract from the drift, especially when one of them keeps snapping you into the present, but they’re getting busy, too.

However. Despite all the obstacles, you keep waiting. A season has passed, yet you stay grounded.

Hoping, wishing, choosing to believe that Yoongi’s not gonna do the same.

You accidentally spill your drink.

And you sob.

One chilly night, you take more of Taehyung’s advice, going to Jimin’s determined to have a good time.

But despite the manufactured confidence you had while getting dressed up and the way you were totally fine walking in and conversing with people and the admittedly perfect vibes of the party…

There’s a hole in your chest that won’t decrease in size.

No matter what you feed it—food, drinks, the compliments of others—it refuses to budge, and this emptiness holds weight. Heavy. Melancholic.

Painful.

As you suddenly find yourself on Jimin’s windy balcony, one with a slightly different view than the one you’ll remain on forever, dull eyes lower to your solo.

If you forget this one on the railing, too…

Will he finally show up to hand it back?

A sharp ache spreads as the hole expands, new tears too powerful to ignore. You know your vision swims, but you don’t move to stay afloat at all.

Three months.

Ninety days.

Eight million seconds.

It only took sixty for you to miss him. And it only took sixty-one for you to feel something else.

How many more will you end up counting? How long until you get to count down instead of up?

You keep asking yourself that. When you know for damn sure that you don’t want to know the answer.

A breeze wraps around your limbs as you sip, the chill cutting through your dress and making you teeter in your heels.

Because it seems like Yoongi doesn’t know, either.

To the point where it’s starting to scare you.

Has he been perfect otherwise? Sickeningly.

But something in you keeps wondering why the wait keeps extending, anxious that he could be flat out stalling.

Prematurely saddened by the possibility that he’s reconsidering entirely.

It makes sense. At least, more sense than him actually wanting something with you. Maybe this time apart has given him the clarity to realize how rose-tinted this whole situation has been. How unrealistic and laughable.

But that night in his kitchen…

It’s getting harder and harder to stay positive.

On the verge of defeat, you hold out your phone, clicking around until your finger hovers over a certain Call button.

You can’t.

He’s working. Someone could see your name, if he has it saved as normal as you have his.

Your finger moves a bit closer.

What the fuck are you doing? Stop. Don’t screw up everything you’ve had to endure with one impulsive decision.

But your mind is fucking bad tonight and you have no clue why.

When the screen lights up with the call screen anyway, ice water rushes through because you totally didn’t mean to call and you need to end it now.

Hold on, it’s an incoming call?

Oh fuck, it’s an incoming call.

Your throat sears as your eyes shut tight.

How the fuck did he know? How the fuck does he always know?

Tears burning, you try your hardest to calm the hell down before you answer, wondering why he dubs you his good luck charm when he puts guardian angels to shame.

You can’t even say hello.

“Hey.”

Fuck. Get it together. Gentle, silent, strong.

“Hello?”

But you can’t. Not this time. Just hearing his voice for the first time in weeks has you crumbling, and that damn hole in your chest is unquenchable.

As soon as your greeting is nothing but a weak sniffle, his change in tone seizes your soul and squeezes.

Because it plummets.

“Where are you.”

There’s quick shuffling and a door opening.

“What’s wrong.”

Damn it there’s keys jangling and you can’t help but sob even harder knowing exactly what he’s doing.

Goddamn it, Min Yoongi. He doesn’t have to go home just because you’re what, sad? Pathetic.

You feel way too many things for this man and it fucking sucks that eight million seconds have gone by after you finally acknowledged them.

However many you get with him now, whenever that may be, you’re not taking a single one for granted.

“Babe, tell me. Now.”

“Jimin’s. Outside,” you choke out, sniffling and wiping both cheeks. “But nothing happened, Yoongi, I just—It just—”

“Gimme twenty. Can you do that?”

Lowering your head and expectations, you huff in sad amusement.

Of course you can. Twenty minutes is nothing to you now. You can wait until he’s free. “Guess so.”

“K. Go back inside and grab a bag.”

Huh? Knitted brows get aimed at your cup as you question him.

“Chips, doll. Jimin has some in the pantry.”

That doesn’t answer anything, so you remain thoroughly confused. “I’ll be okay,” you respond after a moment, simply assuming he wants you to replenish sodium. “I’m not hungry.”

“I am.”

You freeze.

So does time.

And the next three seconds are enough.

“But you better bring the good shit or I’m not letting you in the car.”

After camping in the only unoccupied bathroom, you finally get a text that he’s somewhere around the corner.

And your chest has never felt lighter.

Texting Tae, you let him know that you’re leaving and that you don’t apologize to Jimin for raiding his kitchen. When he responds, that’s when you slip out, your departure a mess of crinkling and racing heartbeats.

If anyone sees you walking out with chips, you pay them no mind. Because you only care what one person thinks.

And seven minutes later, when you see him doubling over at the bazillion noisy bags in your arms, you laugh along at the absurdity of it all.

It’s almost enough to distract you from what he’s wearing.

But to your credit, you don’t exactly see the damn rips in his jeans until he opens a back door for you to throw your haul in.

As if the black top wasn’t already disrespectful enough. His hair has even gotten longer, and you really, really like the new length.

“Fucking hustler.”

No second is wasted as you grab his shirt, positively melting at the way he doesn’t resist or shy away at all.

In fact, he does the exact opposite, crushing you against his warm car so fast he has to brace himself. You welcome the way air leaves your lungs, because you’re giving it all to him with each pass of his lips over yours.

Both of you know you’re outside, in public, somewhere you can be seen. But, mirroring the last time you kissed under a starry sky, neither of you act like you give a shit.

Just like that, everything that has haunted you fades. The worries, the fears, the doubts. It doesn’t matter how many days have passed, because it feels like he never left.

And you suddenly know Yoongi is summer.

Endless.

“Get in,” he rasps through a smirk. “Thief.”

With a grin spread so wide your cheeks hurt, you respond right as your foreheads meet,

“Anything for you.”

With nothing but the road ahead and him beside you, everything is right with the world.

“You still have to gimme chips.”

Maybe not quite everything.

Smile ruining your attempted pout, you reach behind your seat to pick a random bag, settling on the easiest one to grab. “You really made me get these just for you, huh? Are you eating?”

“Yes, my love. And I never said that.”

Well. That first sentence will never, ever, ever be unpacked.

As you shakily open the bag, you hope his music hides your shiver, “Such a smartass.”

“You’re the smartass.”

“Don’t act like you aren’t smart, too,” you laugh, tugging down your dress because he has his car pretty cold tonight. “I know you are.”

When Yoongi reaches to grab some crisps, his blatant stare on your thighs makes you squirm. “Why?”

“I just… You read.”

To your chagrin, he laughs in surprise, forcing you to look out the window.

Which makes you miss the way he turns down the fans. “I’m smart cus I read? How do you even know?”

“You have books under your coffee table,” you answer without doubt as he digs for more chips. “And you don’t have decor just to have it, so…”

He cocks a brow before focusing on the road, licking his fingers and giving you grief. “I moved those, by the way.”

“Em”—you cough—“Embarrassed?”

“Proactive.”

“Huh? For what?”

He can barely contain his spreading curve. “The next time you decide to fuck up my place.”

Your heartbeat skips as you gawk, and the current song is overshadowed by your playful shouts and tickle attempts. “Oh, bullshit!”

“You soaked—aish—my whole apartment!”

“That was you!”

“No?”

“Yes? I was nice and only got your head wet!”

Yoongi glances at you then, head tilted up in cockiness and wide smirk slicing through your every thought.

And you glitch when you realize why.

Settling back into your seat with arms guarding your shyness, you sniff upward. “Ugh. Whatever… I’m right.”

He chuckles a bit before making a turn, and the scenery starts getting familiar.

Way too familiar.

Wait, he’s taking you back to your house?

No no no. Why is he taking you there?

You got into his car fully prepared to go back to his place, consequences and shit be damned. Everything else be damned. One night is all you want right now, and there’s no way you aren’t going without a fight.

All sense of the current mood dissipates when you grip his forearm. “Not there.”

He flicks his gaze, rolling to a stop at an intersection that’s frighteningly close. And his expression falls when he shifts into park with a sigh. “Babe… We can’t.”

“I don’t care.”

“I was only gonna bring you back.”

“Baby, please.”

“He’s home—”

“Do you still miss me?”

He freezes.

Which gives you a chance.

Eyes glossy, you use all the seconds you have to say everything you’ve kept to yourself.

Almost everything.

“Because I get it if you don’t. I do. But I really… I really fucking miss you. And not just because of, whatever. But I consider you a friend and fun as hell to be around, and I haven’t”—you inhale, hating how it shakes—“I haven’t been this happy in weeks. And we aren’t even doing anything.”

Yoongi is completely silent. But that’s okay because you aren’t done.

“I know you said I wouldn’t see you. But after getting to know you? The real you? …That sucks.” You can’t look at him when his hand slips from the wheel. “I’m not gonna make you change anything, just. Telling you what’s on my mind. Like you said. I’m gonna do that a lot more now.”

He doesn’t say a word as a tear cuts one of your cheeks, and you’re brave enough to look his way again. “But it’s been three months, Yoongi,” you whisper. “Is that still not enough for you?”

Time ticks as you hold your breath, oxygen depleting and lungs nearing collapse as you watch his eyes close.

You laid everything out on the table. Your words, your thoughts, your pain.

Whatever he decides, though? You’ll respect it. You said what you wanted to say and you won’t take any of it back. If he wants to prolong this, you won’t stop him. If he doesn’t want this anymore… the home in your heart will need repairs, but you’ll live. Somewhat. You don’t know how but somehow. People are like seasons. You’re used to it.

Yoongi’s still way too quiet.

So, giving up and getting the point, you reach up to open your door.

“Stop.”

You do.

And the way he flexes his jaw shoots magma through your veins before he wrenches the car into drive.

The universe spins as you burst into Yoongi’s apartment, running, bumping, slamming into furniture until you get thrown against his bedroom door.

Welcoming the pain, you devour his scorching lips, fingers digging into his hair with a desperation that frightens you. All you feel is him him him, barely recalling the manic drive over and the way he all but busted into his own place.

If there were any lingering doubts to your question, they’re left out in the chill, not allowed to witness the way he hitches your leg up before pinning you firm with his pelvis.

“Shouldn’t be fucking doing this—”

You moan at the way his jeans feel on your skin, shivers running rampant when you more than feel his hardness poke through. “Please,” you pant, sticking to your word and ready to tell him what you want.

“Please what.”

Everything you want.

Tugging his head back, your admissions rub right against his mouth, “Choke me. Use me. I don’t care, do it all.”

“Huh?”

A breath whooshes out when he yanks you forward with a growl, and you cannot seem to stop, “Don’t be nice. Spit in my mouth. Make me beg like a fucking slut, I need it.”

All the other times, you’ve seen Yoongi break in different ways.

But this is the first time you’ve felt him legitimately snap.

“The fuck.”

Lightning strikes the dark as he slams you backward, teeth clinking against yours when he smothers you with saliva and lust. When he shoves his door open, you stumble back, more unholy plans in mind than he imagines.

You don’t know what’s coming over you.

Even as you force him sideways to shove into his rolling chair, the piercing look he gives is no match for your inner storm.

“Babe—”

Impatient, you drop to your knees, the pain nothing to you as your fingers twitch over his zipper. As you tug his pants down with force, Yoongi’s outright shock is another first for you.

“Are you su—”

“Let me do this,” you plead upward, and you feel highly motivated when he doesn’t do a thing except let out a low, gritty hum.

Grabbing at his cock, you already moan at the way it feels in your palm…

Softly, oh so softly, a large hand closes over yours, and you hear your name in a whisper, haze temporarily receding.

What’s wrong? Does he want you to stop?

When you ask without a word, Yoongi leans forward to capture your lips, and this gives you a warm sort of deja vu. “You drank tonight, yeah?”

“Yeah…?” Oh. He totally tasted alcohol. And your frantic behavior. He thinks—Oh.

Understanding what he’s getting at, you reach up and caress his cheek. “I’m not drunk, baby,” you chuckle. “I just missed you.”

Again, he looks at your eyes, one after the other. When you say it once more for good measure, he kisses you in acceptance.

“So are you gonna fuck my throat or nah?”

He falls back with a groan, raking his hair and legs spread wide. “What are you doing to me.”

“This.”

Without prompt, you dive head first, leaning forward to take his tip and swirl your tongue all around. Commanding his every drop of attention, you don’t let up as you tug your dress downward, breasts spilling out before you stand just enough to claim his lips.

He takes full advantage with a devilish curve, smacking your tits before ordering, “Get the fuck back down there.”

And you obey with a proud smirk of your own, hoping he’s liking this new side of you, too.

Back between his knees, you worship his length in earnest, swallowing him again and again and lathering him in saliva so your hands slide easily on him, too. When you feel his veins rub both your palms, you hear a symphony of lustful baritones.

“Holy fuck.”

You quickly discover you can’t get enough. Lapping, sucking, sheathing your head on his cock so far your brain smushes upward. He feels so familiar at this point that you realize you missed him even here, knocking the back of your throat and burdening your tongue with heavenly, sinful weight.

And you feel more familiar palms grip your head, eyes opening to see him staring down with reverence and something you can’t quite decipher.

“So fucking filthy...”

You chuckle, the rumble making him hiss and throw his head back against his chair.

“Don’t do that.”

You gladly disobey, laughing even harder around him before releasing with an expert pop to suck on his balls.

“Fuck!”

There’s a slight squeak before he grips you again, and you can tell he’s slipping by the way his moans devolve into breathy, short hisses.

Breaking, he pushes your head into his sack before slapping your cheek with his cock, and you hum as it slips back inside your grin.

Yes yes yes. You want him to enjoy this just as much as you do, steal this time together and run with it, need him to hang on the brink of mania where you currently reside. Because even though he’s saying things, you can’t hear them over the wholly impure sounds slopping out of your esophagus.

“Fucking hell, baby,” he praises, thrusting up slow as you keep him slathered. “Missed that fuckin’ mouth.”

You finally come up for air, gulping in air and letting him see you in all your panting glory. When you lock eyes, his lidded gaze is loaded, aimed only at your taunting stare.

Drool coats you in globs. Your chest, the floor, hanging from your lips as you stroke him with wet fingers before swallowing another time.

And you think you can do this until your jaw falls off.

But suddenly you’re hoisted upward before being thrown onto soft sheets, legs roughly shifted to one side as you paint the dark with your hoarse giggles. Before you know it, his lips attack your chest, and he’s setting butterflies wild as you arch in record time.

“Take this off,” he growls, tugging at your dress with sweaty fingers that you want lodged in multiple places. “No more hiding.”

You mewl, undressing as fast as you’re able, tearing the garment off and flinging it away. But your heels are still on, and whether he’s just as deft at removing those, too, you’ll need to hit pause. “What about my—”

“Don’t,” he grits with brows pinched, and his next vow is absolute, pure sin,

“I’m fucking you with them on.”

“Oh, fuck.” Your whine is high as you throw your head back, the next groan guttural as you feel a hand smack the side of your ass with force. Your jaw comes loose, soreness shooting through its curve as your legs are erotically parted to give Yoongi a view of everything.

You know your panties are soaked.

You know he’s gonna wreck your shit.

But seeing him eye the whole mess on display before lifting his hungry gaze your way? You’re damn sure you aren’t gonna survive the night.

Perfect.

“Please fuck me, baby,” you let out with a tone so soft that you think he doesn’t hear you.

He does. “I’m gonna do a lot more than that, doll.”

You tilt your head, confused and wondering what he means.

But he ignores your wordless question, sliding fingers along your ankle before holding your leg to kiss that same spot.

The action alone is enough to rewire your brain, but it’s the way he looks so confident, so unbothered, so determined that has your insides churning with want.

He plants lips there again before shifting his hand down to your calf, yanking your leg back wide and pulling a tiny help out of your throat. When he shifts to grip your other leg, he growls under his breath,

“So fucking perfect.”

“No, you,” you counter with a pout, and flinch what the fuck his slap to your cunt felt good. “Hey!”

“None of that,” Yoongi orders with finality. “Not after all that shit you said at the door.”

“I dunno what happened there,” you admit, inevitably shy under his commanding presence. Your cheeks sizzle before your teeth grip your lip, temporarily brought back to normalcy at his confession,

“Almost made me come.”

“Be for real.”

“Damn serious.”

The cheshire cat would be jealous of your grin. “Then I should keep going?”

“Uh huh.” He cups your whole cunt, and the possessive nature it exudes pushes a whine against your teeth. “Tell me.”

“Fuck me like you missed me.”

A groan rips through his room before he swoops down, lips bruising yours on the landing before he shoves his mouth against your neck.

Tingles erupt over your skin as he laps at your throat, so hard that your entire upper body slides across his rumpled sheets. When you feel his cock rub across your thong and his jeans grazing your skin, his name flies out of your chest. Moans, sighs, everything in between.

“Careful,” he warns low before another toe-curling lick. “You won’t leave if I did that.”

“I don’t want to,” you grit in return, reaching to sink claws in his hair and tug. “Wanna stay.”

Strong arms wrap around you before you feel him spread liquid fire up your shoulder, and he reaches to nip at your ear before deft fingers flick a nipple.

His voice rasps against your cheek, but the words sound reluctant to even leave. “You shouldn’t even be here, babe.”

Fuck. You know that’s true but your heart is rattling like a monster starved.

“Just tonight,” you plead your case. Because you don’t want to be shooed away before it’s over, but if this is all you get, he needs to do something now. “But if you really don’t want this then please kick me out before—”

“Fuck that.” After greedily tweaking your other nipple, he rolls his body against yours, making you fiend for the weighty cock wedged against you with only thin material between. “Fuck all of that.”

He rushes upward before nudging your leg over with a strong hand, and you fixate on the way his chains hit his chest. Just like always. “Don’t move.”

You don’t even get to breathe twice as he drops from sight, and you yelp to his roof as soon as you feel teeth nick your inner thigh. At your flinch, you feel him grip your leg with force, ordering you even harsher,

“I said. Don’t move.”

“But—Yoongi!”

You don’t notice him yank your underwear sideways before flattening a hot tongue against your folds, sucking so good you have to back away from the stimulation. Immediately, both your legs are seized before he tugs you back to him.

“Uh uh.”

And he keeps your legs apart before diving deep, and you’ve never devolved into a quivering mess so fast in your goddamn life. The way he licks, sucks, kisses just where you need—everything sends thunder through your chest, lightning across your cunt, rain into your eyes.

You can do nothing but squirm, squeals and whines and high moans leaving arrowheads in his ceiling.

Holy fuck, did you sound this loud when you worshipped him? Even now, spread wide and willing to give Yoongi the world, you find a moment to be embarrassed in the best way.

If the neighbors hear, you don’t care. They’re gonna know how well he’s feasting on you, how gorgeously corrupt you feel. How you’re his and his alone and ready to scream it to the rooftops.

When you feel a finger alongside his tongue, the sound you make borders on inhuman. You think it’s his name, but even you aren’t quite sure.

All you know is that you’re close. Your thighs are burning and your fingers swipe at his locks but he refuses to let you go. “Yoongi—I’m—”

Suddenly.

He stops.

And every nice thing you have to say to him falls to the wayside. “No no no! Please, fuck—”

The light tap to your cunt makes you quiver, and your chest heaves when he chuckles without pity,

“What’d you say?”

“Plea—Baby!”

“Huh?”

Every fucking time you speak, he taps again. And every time he gets you close, he edges with aggravating control. Again. And again.

And again.

You exist between reality and fiction, somehow seeing yourself unwinding, winding, spiraling out of control. Words start to form abstract blobs of syllables, your mouth hanging open as he peppers lazy, unbothered kisses on your thighs.

In your foggy vision, you think you see him stand. And you’re pretty sure he grabs his cock before he’s rubbing his thick head between your folds oh fuck—

“This is what you wanted, huh.”

Your breath hitches with a whine as you nod.

“You gonna be a good little slut?”

Oh, you’re gonna be whatever he fucking wants. So you nod again, not without a smile lopsided.

“Then fucking beg.”

He smacks his cockhead against your cunt, springing your back in an arch and tugging strings of incoherent speech from your depths. You make hard lines of his sheets as you grip them in both palms, and you don’t wanna know what you’re saying because the way Yoongi’s staring with a smirk has you blacking the fuck out.

To the point where you’re nothing but a quivering, shaking, restless mess on his bed.

You somehow closed your eyes at some point, because they fly open when you feel his lips on yours, and you tug at his stupidly attractive shirt that he didn’t bother to pull off. “Please,” you whisper, brain floating oceans away. “I need you.”

“Need you, too.”

He breaks away to grab a condom, and this is when you realize how intertwined you feel because even this distance is too much to bear. You’re spilling nonsense and breathing harsh and you attribute that to the sole fact that you crave release. It’s aching. Consuming.

Yoongi’s already naked and prepped by the time he positions himself between your sore legs, and you give in without resistance again when he descends on your lips.

When you whisper his name, he kisses it away, and you briefly wonder why his hands shake running up your sides.

Finally, finally, finally, he gives exactly what you want, the initial connection stretching you sore because it’s been way too long. And you feel emotional when you don’t even doubt it’s been too long for him, too.

Because his eyes speak volumes.

They hold onto your every move, watch your every reaction, hesitate when you blow out air accommodating his size.

But you lock yours with him when you relax, weakly grasping his jewelry before sliding fingers up his shoulders. When you nod, he pushes in further, both of you sighing in tandem.

And as soon as you whisper you’re ready, all niceties fly out the window.

You’re thrusted up his bed with a determined stroke before he sets a pace, and your head kicks back as soon as a hand captures your neck.

“Look at me,” he commands, and he gives you a light pat on the cheek before squeezing your jaw. “Open up.”

When you do, spit flings from his mouth into yours, and you already sprint to the edge feeling the weight of your heels and the strength of his body. “Fuck!”

You get pat again—rougher this time—before Yoongi goes to choke you a second time. “What do you say?”

“Me?” you pant, tearing the first thought from your throat when he grits it again. “Thank—”

Fuck, his dick is hitting every spot you need it to. It takes you a second to repeat your garbled guess in full, knowing it’s something you would’ve said anyway. “Thank you.”

“Now swallow.”

As soon as he shoves inside, your obedience is your undoing. The skies open to welcome you as your body locks, thighs squeezing his taut sides as he moans through your release. Waves tug you unbelievably far, and you almost lose yourself in the swell before you crash onto shore again.

“Such a whore for me,” Yoongi praises, kicking you back to the very first night and making you melt. When you peel eyelids open, you notice his smile matches yours, and the shared, cherished memory smoothens your gravelly laugh.

“Love when you do that,” you admit, shaking your head at your own strange preferences. “Don’t know why.”

“Me neither.” He spears you again with a cheeky lip bite. “But it’s so fucking hot.”

Your grin can’t be contained, and this is where you wanna be. Right here. Nowhere else in the fucking universe.

“I’m ready,” you pant, and he gives you a brief look of affection—which you shatter with force. “Fuck the shit out of me.”

Yoongi twitches madly inside your core as he expels a pained, breathy laugh. “Goddamn, this isn’t good for me.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” He doesn’t waste a second gathering your calves while you ponder what he says. “Hold these pretty legs up for me. There you go.”

When you find the easiest way to do so, you marvel at how shaky and slippery your thighs are, wondering if the rest of you is faring any better.

It’s not.

But you can’t dwell on that now because Yoongi is holding on like he’ll lose you, resuming a delicious pace and smacking your hips into his with the most indecent sounds.

Your whines soon join in, and his hums of satisfaction fuel your ever going flame. Heaven and earth could move and you would remain here, suspended in time as he fills you perfectly with every fast stroke.

“Feel so good—”

When he leaves your cunt, you mewl before he grunts, “Fucking—Get up.”

What is he—

You’re hoisted upward so quickly that you see starlight, not even registering the clanks and shifts of items before he’s spinning to pin you down on a solid surface. Your heels find purchase on the floor but your knees prove unbelievably weak.

What’s—

Oh fuck, are you on his desk?

Your hands retreat until they find an edge to grab, and you moan outright when you feel his fingers slide up your cunt, shoving your thong farther over one side of your ass.

“Yoongi—”

You feel full in an instant, jaw going slack as he shoves you backwards on his cock, praises washing down your back as he pushes down any arches you instinctively make.

“Uh uh. Stay like that.”

“I wanna—” Your words are cut off with a whine as you feel a sting on your ass. “Fuck!”

“There you go.”

The rock of the desk is so strong that every bang against the wall booms loud, equipment sliding back and forth and making you briefly worry if anything will fall.

But this is the most turned on you’ve ever, ever felt, and you have no fucking clue why.

You wonder if he feels the same right before his dark laugh consumes you.

“Goddamn.”

Your hands are grabbed before he shoves you forward, letting more of your body lie on the surface so that he can pin sweaty arms at your back.

Oh, fuck!

Your moans glide across wood as he doesn’t let up, and you don’t even want to know how much drool will exist on his desk when you’re done. Maybe you’ll never be done. Maybe he really will keep you here forever, and you’ll soak his whole—

“Come here.”

He gathers your wrists in one large palm before reaching to grip your chest, hauling you up and securing you against his body by the throat.

And you think your soul just left your earthly vessel.

Pressing you further into him, he grits in your ear,

“Never fucking kicking you out.” His tight stroke launches you across space. “Don’t even think about saying that again.”

When did you— You said— Why don’t you remember—

You go limp when he shoves into you again, but your heels wobble and you focus damn hard on staying upright.

But Yoongi doesn’t give a shit. “You hear me?” When you let out a breathy confirmation, he still isn’t satisfied. A hand pats your cheek before he asks again, “Say it louder.”

“Yes!”

“Good.”

He drops all talk, pistoning in from behind while you take it and take it and love it. Mercifully, he lets your sore arms go to pin you down again, gritted words and curses dancing with your high-pitched sighs.

Fuck, his strokes are so deep that you see into the next universe, and you don’t think your mouth has been shut ever since you made contact with his desk.

Maybe he was more frustrated than you were. He’s using you as stress relief like you intended, and his roughness is a fantastic surprise.

It’s just what you need. Which kicks you into a whole other level of want and the beast inside you transforms yet again.

When Yoongi yanks himself out, you’re quick to spin and shove him backward. As he flops onto the bed, he laughs like sin incarnate when you pounce, his hot hands grabbing at your hips and encouraging your behavior in the nastiest way.

“Let’s go then, pretty bitch.”

“You already fucking know.”

“Show me what I’ve been missing.”

“Don’t fall in love.”

When you sink onto him, Yoongi’s already groaning. But when you start to swivel at a pace that will render you sore, he begins to lose it.

“Fuck.”

His head kicks back, eyes shut and brows pinched to hell. After holding your waist, he has to slap his sheets to squeeze even tighter, chest marred with red under pretty silver.

You make sure every rotation is full, slowly rocking with each circle you make and gritting teeth at how fucking big he is.

Soon, his hisses devolve into groans, and he snaps his head back up to slap your breasts—one after the other before gripping your hips so hard you welcome the pain.

“Fuck, I missed this pussy,” he confesses with husk, and you whine in response as you lower yourself to kiss him deep.

“It missed you, too.”

Coming back up, you dig one of your hands in his mattress while bracing on him with the other, and you close your eyes in bliss as you arch your tits toward his hungry lips.

Just like you want, he chuckles in satisfaction as he suckles, lolling his tongue all around before giving your nipple a hard suck. His noises remind you of lollipops, and you briefly think of a few fun things you could do with those for next time.

But a hand juts up to seize the back of your neck, forcing you to arch in place as he starts thrusting hard.

“Yoongi!”

“Uh huh.”

Before you can talk again, his other hand joins in to choke you just enough, and you find yourself teetering on a precipice. Holy fuck, holy fuck, you’re close again.

“You gonna come?”

A frantic nod.

“Then come.”

As soon as you hear the words, you do exactly that, windpipe released just as you pulse around him incredibly hard. The waves prove tsunamis, and you dangle from their crests before plummeting and tumbling below. Your moan extends as he thrusts erratically through your quivers, encouraging you and digging rough fingers into your hips.

“Again.”

Somehow, that’s enough to make your body obey, and you cry out as you flutter around his trembling cock, hearing him talk you through it but not quite understanding what he’s saying.

Maybe you also choose not to listen because of what you think you hear, and you don’t want to be haunted if you realize later on what you thought you heard wasn’t true.

The world rotates up as Yoongi sits up, and you sling arms around him as he leans back on his hands. Your breath hitches at the new angle he’s filling you at, and your eyes swirl when he coolly, confidently commands,

“Again.”

You can’t you can’t you can’t but you can. Holy fuck apparently you can, and this time, it consumes you so hard your eyes roll back enough to see the past. Past you, insecure and meek and scared to say what they want.

Oh, if they could witness you now.

You shudder impossibly hard around him, coated with his deep chuckles and dashing, ego-ridden grin. It’s all you see before you slump against his chest, heartbeat pounding against yours when you can’t feel any bone in your body.

One breath.

Two breaths.

Two hearts.

One night is enough.

“So fucking perfect.”

“For you,” you wisp out, lost in galaxies. “Only you.”

He can only kiss the side of your head in response, gently lowering you both onto spent cotton and helping you straighten out your muscle-locked legs. When he asks if you’re okay, you can only nod, and he plants another kiss on your temple before sliding off his protection.

Both of you take time to calm down, breaths heavy from what felt like a marathon. But a much better marathon than the one you’ve had to endure over the last three months.

When you lie against his chest, you silently thank him for giving you tonight. It’s the riskiest thing you’ve ever done with him, but you won’t worry about it. Not right now. Not when you feel more at home here than your own house.

Your brother is right. Something is definitely missing over there.

It’s when your pants have relaxed into soft breaths that you nudge your head against Yoongi’s chest, eyes shut in peace as he lazily draws circles on your back.

And the first words he says in minutes inject sparkles into your eyes,

“I need to re-up this damn cat’s food.”

Oh, shit!

Your outright squeal is surely coming out too loud but you don’t care. Don’t care don’t care don’t care not when Yoongi just gave away so many different things.

This man leaned right into the whole thing.

“I knew it!” You proclaim in triumph, smacking his thigh while hearing a very elongated ‘shut up’ at your side. “Tried to hide it from me all these months? Somebody’s getting soft.”

“First off.”

“Uh huh.”

God. If only you both could go on one of those late night shopping trips he talked about before. Maybe you could’ve gotten plenty of things. Like some little cat toys, or extra storage cabinets for your clothes.

Yeah. Stuff like that.

“I’m her favorite.”

Your scoff is immediate as you hoist yourself up, leaning on your hand and regretting the burn in your arm. “Only because you gatekeeped her.”

A soft disagreement precedes a more prominent, “Won’t even matter.”

Yoongi looks so at peace when you stare, and your voice calms to match as it floats down, “You took care of her.”

When he only smiles, you decide that this is how you want him to be all the time. Content and outright glowing, fireflies dancing in his eyes.

Does he feel at home, too?

“She was gonna be your surprise,” he finally murmurs. “For getting the gig.”

Heart and tear ducts full, you lower yourself to tenderly press lips to his. And, since it seems to work for you, his forehead is what you decide to kiss next.

Then you pull away.

Wondering why he’s not smiling anymore.

“Come here.”

You blink, lying back down to snuggle against his side. When his arm wraps around your shoulder, it's only then that you’re aware you still have shoes on. A clean person, you hope Yoongi doesn’t mind them touching his sheets.

But maybe it’s a tad too late for that concern.

“How are you gonna get home?”

Oh, right. You use his chest to scratch an itch in your nose before responding, “I’ll call a ride in the morning. He’ll be out cold until noon at the earliest.”

“K.”

“Did I keep you from anything?”

A puff flies out his nostrils. “Kinda late for that, huh.”

“True,” you sigh, berating yourself for thinking a lot of things too late. “Sorry.”

“But no, we were finishing up when I called.”

“Okay… Did I scare you?” You lift your eyes then, because you need to know for sure.

When he levels a look, you curse at his quiet confirmation. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

“S’ok.”

“I just… It hurt tonight.” Emotion washes over your face before you bury it. “Really hurt.”

After a light squeeze, Yoongi gently rolls you over, resting his head exactly where your hand clutches your chest. When you move your fingers, he kisses that same spot, and your heart stops. “How about now.”

Feeling the deepest pain you’ve ever felt in your life, you cradle his head with a whisper,

“Maybe try that one more time.”

And he does, not looking at your tears as he sits up to peer down the bed.

When he scoots down to the edge, your breath catches as he holds a heel in sure hands, his back beautiful even with the scars. While he works through leather straps, he starts to speak,

“I always do, babe.”

Blinking, you ask what he means as he slips your shoe off with ease.

“Miss you.”

As he tenderly holds the other, you gulp in oxygen to quell the sear around your eyes. “I just… Wasn’t sure,” you admit, voice wavering.

His hair falls forward when he sighs, and his palms feel way too relaxing to just be taking your heels off. Even now, it feels like he’s revering you. And you truly don’t know how you deserve any of this.

“That’s my fault.”

Throat small, you’re swift to reassure him. “No, no. I need to just suck it up. I’m sorry.”

After freeing your other foot, he rubs it without prompt, and you don’t know how to deal with someone giving you this level of care.

“Just a little bit longer, doll,” he says, and you admire his profile when he turns. “I’m sorry.”

“You gave me tonight.”

When he swallows, you reassure him with all the support you can give,

“A little longer is nothing.”

A moment passes by before he finally moves, and you catch a hint of a smile right before he faces his disheveled to hell desk again.

Deciding that conversation has concluded, you crack the atmosphere with a joke, “You liked whatever happened over there, huh.”

Immediately, Yoongi’s shoulders bob with a laugh before he admits, “Fucking you on my desk? I’ve wanted to do that for months.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He leans forward. “There’s a lot of shit I’ve wanted us to do for months.”

Us.

Thoroughly giddy and full of life again, you egg him on. “Oh? Like what?”

Finally, he looks over his shoulder with a grin, and you scoff in frustration at his answer,

“What’s the fun in telling you?”

“Ass!”

While you’re getting ready to shower, he leans against the doorframe of his bathroom.

“We have a game next week.”

As you fetch a towel from his cabinet, you clarify, “The championship, right?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I’ll be there,” you confirm, walking away to slip the thick cloth over its rack. “I can’t believe it’s still going.”

“Same. But there’ve been a lot of delays, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” Your hand feels out the water, satisfied with its temperature. “I meant your win streak but whatever.”

And you squeal when he rushes forward, shutting the glass with a wobbly thud before he can get to you. When you stick out a childish tongue, you laugh under the spray, curve slowly, curiously, softly fading when he simply keeps staring.

What’s he doing?

You don’t move as he slowly slides the entrance open again, and you don’t dare breathe as he leans inside to kiss your wet lips.

When you tenderly take one of his wrists and pull, he obliges without hesitation, and you take another shower with the man that sets fireworks off in your soul.

An hour later, filled with food and laughter—and slight disappointment when you couldn’t find your surprise near his door—you occupy his bed with full bellies and fresh minds.

As he lies on your chest, you think this is better, because it gives you time to think about things. And tell him about others.

You finally tell him what all happened with Jungkook, to which he listens without a single word. When you can’t seem to shut up about your job, he doesn’t stop you, and you adore the way he cuddles you under faint moonlight cutting through his window.

“Oh, wait,” you stop, feeling like you’ve talked his head off by now. “What did you call about?”

“Huh? Tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“We finally have a confirmed date. For that album,” Yoongi rumbles against the shirt he let you borrow. “I was gonna invite you to the release party.”

Whoa, what the fuck? “Me?”

He chuckles soft, and you wonder if he can guess how shocked you look. “Yes, you. All of y’all.”

At least it’s everyone. But at the same time, you still hesitate. “That won’t be weird?”

“Nah. You can bring anyone you want, so. I was assuming you’d bring your friends.”

“Ah, I see.”

You didn’t mean to sound disappointed. You truly aren’t. But Yoongi pushes up to comfort you anyway, planting kisses along your skin, your neck, and finally your lips.

“It won’t be the only one,” he promises. “We got time.”

“Duh,” you giggle. “And I’ll be at all of them. Whether you like it or not.”

Yoongi regards you before laying his weight back on your chest. And you find it strange how familiar his body already feels. How you’re already attuned to every way his legs fit against your own, or how you would know it’s him solely based on how his chest molds with yours.

You start mindlessly caressing his hair, fingers weaving through a dark sea of strands before smoothing over its surface.

And you start to hum.

It’s not really any song, just notes you start stringing together at random. You build up before you dip back down, staying in a comfortable middle range and dancing between similar tones.

You stop from time to time, trying to figure out what would sound best next and changing up the cadence. Always coming back to a central theme because it’s what you deem best.

And you’re so comfortable that you completely forgot he’s lying right under your chin.

“Shit, was I too loud?”

He just shakes his head, arm pressing a bit more into your side.

“Not at all.”

So you keep going, humming more familiar tunes and phrases, softly giggling when Yoongi huffs at the way you drum on his head.

And that’s how the night goes on, with you at peace and him in your embrace.

Never noticing how the shirt you're wearing collects rain.

When dawn breaks, you part with one final, heavenly kiss.

Yoongi watches until you get in the ride he politely called for you, and you spend the whole drive with eyes filled with light.

You can do this. Just a little longer, he said.

For him, you can do anything.

But when you get home, your brother occupies the foyer as soon as you open the front door.

And you feel the world shatter and crash at your feet.

“I think,” he states, “There’s something you wanna tell me.”

—

tbc. :)

—

a ha ha... what do we think/like! | wanna support with a 🍊?

A/N: i’m so swirly-eyed that i don’t even know what to say here other than i’m sorry for throwing that ending at y’all! busted pt. 2 is gonna be its own huge part at this point so i had no choice but to end it here (originally it was gonna end before they went back to yoongi’s but i love y’all too much dlkfjdsklf) A/N 2: gonna say this again: enormous thank you to everyone supporting this whole journey, whether that’s liking/commenting/reblogging/messaging, recommending this series to people, telling me how it makes you feel or what it means to you, or even wanting a physical copy of the series like😭 that’s surreal to me and makes me wanna keep working harder. A/N 3: as far as feedback, i would absolutely love any type y’all wanna give. this chapter took all of my brainpower and the next one is gonna take just as much haahahahdksfks so any encouragement would be wonderful! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ three tangerines masterlist ⇥ masterlist

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norrizzandpia · 11 months

Text

Masterlist 2

Lando Norris:

It’s Your Birthday. Of Course, I’m Here

It’s Lando’s birthday and Y/n can’t make it. Or so he thinks.

A Sign Of My Love

In which Lando chooses the most obvious way to declare his love for his best friend and she is the only one who doesn’t get it.

All He Needed Was Her

Following the Vegas ‘23 crash, Y/n and Adam find Lando in his hospital bed, yearning for the comfort of his girlfriend’s touch.

A Second Chance

Secrets are a hard thing to live with, they always come out in the end. When it comes to Y/n and Lando, their loved ones struggle to understand what occurred between the two when both of them refuse to discuss it. What happened that night that warranted two people so in love to separate? What triggered Lando to become so violent, so hostile? Why is there a lone engagement ring lingering in Lando’s apartment when it’s meant to rest on Y/n’s finger? What’s happened?

You Were Never What I Wanted, Pt. 2

Lando and Y/n have never liked each other and it’s only the distaste the world has for them when McLaren forces them to “put on a show for the public”. At first, a few hand holds and light, quick kisses seem to be tolerable, yet feather light touches turn into longing stares and, suddenly, they’re falling in love. Although, hatred is a powerful emotion. Can love really trump it?

Ski Trips and Smiles

A proposal on a snowy ski trip.

Showing You My Love

McLaren’s forced Lando into a PR stunt of a relationship and his girlfriend, Y/n, back into hiding just when she was ready to go public.

One-Sided Fake Dating Pt. 2

When Y/n has continuously been used for the image that has pristinely been constructed for her and the connections she has through relation to her parents, she has cultivated a dark image on the world, especially on love. However, when Lando comes into her life and shows her what it’s like to be wanted for who you are and not what you can provide, she begins to open up and she begins to explore what it’s like to be loved and to love. Although, nothing is permanent and what happens when the man she had thought to be better than everyone who had previously screwed her over turns out to be worse?

Love You the Way I Do

When Y/n starts to pull back, Lando knows exactly what to do.

When?

Apparently, to Lando, it is not a question of if he will marry Y/n, it is when.

Safe With Me, Love

When a man at a club makes Y/n uncomfortable, touching her, grabbing her, Lando’s the first to stop it.

The First Time

In the midst of the dirtiest act, Lando’s loose lips stall his impending orgasm.

Let Me Be Happy. Don’t Be Mean.

Y/n is not experienced in the realm of dating. For years, she has convinced herself that no man sees her as lovable. So, when a guy steps into the picture who checks off all the boxes, making her feel secure in his feelings towards her, she’s elated. However, when she goes to share in the excitement with her best friend, he ruins it all, along with it her happiness, by uttering three small words.

My Coat, Your Coat

Y/n is freezing. Lando is her boyfriend. There’s only one remedy.

Whatcha Readin’?

It was a good story, that was her only argument.

Look How Amazing You Are

After Lando’s disastrous qualifying in Qatar and redeeming podium just hours later, Y/n is there to remind Lando of where his worth truly lies.

Sparkling Eyes

When Y/n is distracted, Lando usually takes the opportunity to admire her. Although, this time, he has an audience.

She Calls Me Daddy Too

When Y/n and Lando are having dinner at her house with her parents, Y/n asks her father to pass the salt. Too bad she didn’t specify which one she was referring to.

His

When a fun pool party turns into a hurtful disaster, the only good thing to come from it is two confessions.

I’ve Got You

In the midst of the FIA determining whether his lap times will be deleted, Y/n finds her boyfriend sitting in front of multiple cameras, but that doesn’t matter, he’s upset and she’s got him.

Lala

When Y/n meets Lando’s family for the first time, Lando warns her about his niece who glues to his side whenever he’s around. What she isn’t expecting, however, is the heart melting nicknames he has been given. It prompts some interesting confessions.

My Name

Y/n and Lando have a painful past together. When they go their separate ways and are left to pick up the pieces, Lando realizes he can no longer hear the woman he loved’s name without feeling deeply ashamed.

We Can Be Kids For Right Now

When her week has tried to suffocate her, Lando turns up at her door and forces her to remember just how worthy she truly is.

Wrong Number, Right Person

A wrong number leads Lando right to Y/n, but even the beautiful love they find together struggles to stand a chance against Lando’s lie of identity.

HE WON! LAN WON!

A long awaited win warrants a shouting Y/n, the proud girlfriend of Lando Norris, 2024 Miami Grand Prix Race Winner. Not only that, but also a smiling Lando now ready for questions about their future.

Olive

After a massive loss, Lando and Y/n find themselves losing sight of the love they once shared. A ghost town in a house they once imprinted their love in is riddled in pain and grief. Right at the edge of the cliff, ready to give up and part ways, an anniversary pulls them back together and reunites them in what they once had.

What Died Didn’t Stay Dead

Y/n’s close to fatal car crash and the epiphanies that followed.

Can You See Me Using Everything To Hold Back

Lando and Y/n have always been as close as can be, but unresolved and disregarded feelings threaten everything they thought they once knew.

Oscar Piastri:

British v. American

In which Oscar tries to teach his girlfriend how to drive in England. The only catch? She’s never driven on the other side of the road. Oh, and she’s never driven anywhere else except for California.

Don’t Worry Everyone. I’m Alive.

The fans love her, so when they hear their favorite driver, her boyfriend, killed her, they aren’t happy.

Sleeping Buddies or Dating?

Oscar and Y/n love to sleep next to each other. They don’t love each other. That’s it.

Storms

Where Y/n hates thunder storms and Oscar’s the only person who can calm her down.

Let’s Have A Baby, Baby

There is nothing Oscar wants more than for Y/n to get pregnant with his kid, and everyone knows it.

When’s It My Turn

When Oscar can’t find Y/n and realizes she’s off with Logan, he gets possessive over how much time his girlfriend has to give.

Chuck a Uey

Blurb when Non-Australian!Reader misses a turn and Oscar tells her to “chuck a uey”. Long story short, she has absolutely no clue what that means.

To Be Loved Is To Be Seen

Oscar knows his girlfriend well and it’s obvious to him when she starts breaking down. He’s happy to help or, more specifically, remind her how worth it she is.

Just Benefits Right Now

It’s common knowledge they love each other. Just not to them - even when they’re sleeping together.

Y/n and the Piastri Sisters, the Piastri Sisters and Y/n

Oscar knew that Y/n and his sisters were close, but to wake up on a Saturday morning to find all of them gone, he wonders if he really underestimated how much the girls loved each other’s company.

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hysteria-things · 7 months

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✿ PROMISE? ✿ PART ONE.

ʚ♡ɞ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 ʚ♡ɞ

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chris x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: guess who’s back in town: the sturniolo triplets. it’s for their birthday party their parents are throwing, the same party your parents force you to go to.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,054

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: we’re locked in on the series, folks!

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐍’𝐓 𝐆𝐎 𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐘 without seeing something along the lines of the sturniolo triplets, and it fucking pisses you off. your parents went to high school with theirs and were really close. your mom got pregnant with you around the same time marylou got pregnant with the triplets, your “best friends.”

the same triplets that left you months ago because of their career of being youtubers. the least they could’ve done was still message you, but no. they unfollowed you on everything.

you texted them multiple times, but all you got was one-word answers or no answer at all. as much as you didn’t want to, you stopped trying after a while because it was no use.

your parents still hang out with marylou and jimmy, sometimes even justin when he’s in town. at least you got one more best friend that you grew up with, nathan doe.

nathan is the youngest out of the four of you. nick, matt, and chris are turning twenty tomorrow and nate’s turning nineteen on the ninth. you’ve been nineteen since april, so you’re right in the middle.

you guys met him in elementary school and he was the last piece of the puzzle. you guys were even called the FOREVER FIVE, something you all made up at a sleepover in the fourth grade.

of course the three stooges didn’t drop him when they left. favoritism, i guess.

you scroll angrily on tiktok. it’s like the app senses your hatred for them and decides to put edits or clips from their videos on your for you page. this shit is definitely not for you.

then, there’s a knock on your bedroom door. “come in.” you call out, and your mother comes in. she sits on your bed and sighs. “what’s up?” you ask.

she gives you a face of sympathy, and it scares you a little. “the triplets are back in town.” she starts, and that gains your attention. “and i want you to come with me and your father to their birthday party tomorrow.”

“no.” you flat-out say. it’s no secret that your mom knows about your hatred either since you cried to her for a week straight about how they abandoned you.

“y/n, please.” your mom puts a hand on your knee. “marylou would love to see you there. she asks about you, you know. she misses you.”

frowning, you start to think. you miss her too. you never blamed her for what her sons did, but you haven’t seen her since they left. she is the sweetest lady you’ve ever met. “and they’re celebrating nate’s birthday, too. you have to at least show up for him, okay?”

you exhale sharply. “okay.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ✿ ⋆⁺₊⋆

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐔𝐏 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 party the next day with your parents, making your way to the backyard where it’s held. not a lot of people are there, just close friends and family. you scan the area at the top of the steps for nathan, getting disappointed when you don’t see him.

marylou engulfs you in a hug the moment you step on the grass. “hello, sweetheart!” she exclaims, pulling away with a big smile on her face. she places her hands on your shoulders. “how are you doing? you feeling okay?”

“i’m doing fine!” you reply in the same tone, putting on a fake smile.

“thank you so much for coming. i know it’s been a little… strange for you for the past few months. i’m sorry about that.”

“please don’t apologize. you did nothing wrong,” you say and she pulls you back in for another hug.

“if you want, the boys are standing by the chips and dip. if not, don’t be afraid to make yourself comfortable.” she points to the numerous folding tables set up.

god, you missed this woman. “i will. thank you so much.”

you walk over to the table where your parents are, placing your things down before joining them.

“twenty years old is fucking disgusting.” nick rants, dipping a chip in onion dip and popping it into his mouth.

the other two giggle. “yeah, well—” chris pauses when he turns his head and lands eyes on someone. “holy shit, guys.” he taps both of his brothers on the arm.

“look.” he continues, pointing at you from across the way when he gets his sibling’s attention. “we have to talk to her.”

“chris, no.” matt says. “do you not know that she hates us? it was shitty, what we did. that’s honestly my biggest regret.”

“we are petty losers for that.” nick chimes in.

chris crosses his arms. he would do anything to get you back into his life. there was no specific reason why they did what they did. they ghosted a lot of old friends ever since they moved to LA, and you got unlucky. “fine. if you guys won’t, i will. i want to get my best friend back.”

“chris, wait! that’s not a good idea!” the two scream at him as he starts to march over to you, who’s now pouring pepsi into a red solo cup.

you gasp out of shock when you turn around and see a brunette towering over you. “hi.” he says lowly. “i didn’t think you’d come.”

“i came for nate.” you say coldly. “where is he?”

“he has to do something before he comes.” you move over to start walking, but he steps in front of you.

“chris—”

“i’m so fucking sorry.” he apologizes. “we miss you.”

“should’ve thought of that before you woke up one day and decided to pretend i didn’t exist.”

his heart aches at your words. the three of them really are assholes. “can we just start over? please?”

“start over?” you scoff. “we can’t start over after all of that. i practically known you since birth, and you want to start over?”

“y/n, i’m—”

you peek over his shoulder and cut him off. “nate’s here.” you eventually get out of his way and start to head over to nate, but stop and turn back around.

there’s a hint of hope in chris that you changed your mind, but he was wrong. “i kept the note.”

he furrows his eyebrows. “what note?”

ouch.

you laugh to yourself. of course, he doesn’t remember. “never mind. happy birthday.” you mumble, walking off into the crowd.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @idkhowtosleep @sturniolho

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fluff #[ ✿ ] promise?

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partitionis · 3 months

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on the horror of fame:

something that I often find myself thinking about when I’m back in Taiwan and around people who are far richer than I’ll ever be [1] is how the day-to-day experience of being rich and powerful is actually pretty… dehumanizing

there’s a sweet spot where you’re wealthy enough that you don’t have to worry about money ever and still anonymous enough that you can pop down to the 7/11 without anyone knowing who you are, but once you’re famous enough that people on the street tend to recognize you? you’re fucked.

ok, you haven’t driven a car in a few decades because you’ve been rich enough to employ a driver and someone of your status isn’t really the type to drive themselves around. this is fine. except now your driver knows all of your business. that’s also fine, you pay him for his discretion. do you pay him enough? can you be sure that his institutional loyalty is enough to stop him from taking a tabloid payment? maybe you want to go somewhere spur of the moment. you could call your driver, and he’d drop whatever he was doing and be at your house to get you within fifteen minutes [2], but you know, maybe he’s with his kids or something. you could take the subway, except if you do that multiple people will recognize you and everyone will treat you like you have some sort of infectious disease [3]. guess you’d better stay in.

and every moment of every day is like this! being a famous man is great because women want to have sex with you and men want to be you. except mostly what everyone wants is access to the wealth and power you represent: people tell you half-truths to try to convince you to invest in some bullshit or they put their hands dangerously close to your penis in public social situations [4]. you— the person you actually are— are mostly treated like an obstacle to be overcome or a puzzle to be figured out. ‘what kind of currency do I need to put in to the old man to get what I want out of him’

so you have all of the things people want, but they’re poisoned by abundance. you can go anywhere and buy anything, but you can’t do it without feeling the eyes of the world on you. you have more friends and potential lovers than you know what to do with, but do you? one of the great privileges of being a regular person [5] is that you can generally trust that social gestures are genuine. I’m just a regular guy and the only benefit anyone gets from throwing me a birthday party or having sex with me is that we ate birthday cake or had sex. none of these things will unlock access to money or power because I’ve got none to give, but once you do, you invariably attract these people. they’re not all of your social circle, but they’re a lot of it, because competing for your limited time and attention with the people who are willing to grope you in public feels vaguely debasing

no wonder musicians are alcoholics! no wonder the people I know are all withdrawn and snappish. you’re just some guy, and you’re living a life so divorced from the rest of the world that you have more in common with the god-kings of old than you do with your own parents. is it worth it? I mean I won’t lie, sometimes it’s pretty sick; I’d never buy a $5,000 watch, but I can pretty easily imagine what I’d do with thousands of dollars of pocket change. but then I remember that one person I know refuses to tell anyone when his birthday is because people make such a big fucking deal out of it and I think, hm, if that were me I’d probably develop a heroin addiction [6].

[1] presumably

[2] let’s not consider how much it sucks to be the driver in this situation

[3] you are not the good kind of famous in this story, sorry.

[4] I’m sure this was titillating at one point but I’m also pretty sure it got old by the third decade, never mind what it’s like in the fifth

[5] unless you’re an Olive Garden manager who posts a lot about fake friends and backstabbers on Facebook or wherever the beleaguered Olive Garden managers of the world are posting today

[6] at least I’d be able to pay for it

#why is the line spacing on these paragraphs inconsistent #兄弟義氣萬年長 #<- so I can find it again

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niallsstainedcoffeecup · 4 months

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A Scoop of Love

Y/N, a single mother, who no longer believes in love, meets the new ice cream shop owner, Harry Styles. Can she balance a new love, her ex-husband, and her daughter? Or will it all fall apart?

This is a new miniseries I'm working on. Let me know what you think, and if you would like to see anything in the future parts. Lots of love! Love either bloomed beautifully or withered wastefully. Y/N witnessed this first-hand with her parents’ marriage, then her own. Her parents loved one another, from sharing multiple morning kisses before leaving for work to drawing lavender bubble baths for one another after a rough day. She grew up surrounded by love, so naturally, she searched for and planned her true love. They would meet at a bookstore or in a university lecture, and then he would propose after three blissful years of dating. They would get married in the church her parents got married in, she would wear a modern version of her mother’s wedding dress, and there would be bouquets of beautiful pink peonies everywhere. However, a higher being glanced over her plans and laughed.

She met her husband at the first university party she attended. He was in his second year of university, and she was in her first year, but her dark humor and extensive music knowledge kept him entertained all night. They dated for an exciting year filled with morning kisses before she left for class and late-night conversations about their future, and then they were blessed with the news that she was pregnant.

Her parents rejoiced, but his parents forced him to propose. They were married in her parents’ garden, under a floral arch her mother designed, with very few guests because his parents did not want their friends to see the small bump under the maternity wedding dress that she despised. At twenty, she gave birth to their beautiful daughter, Daphne.

The couple attempted to raise their daughter together, but the morning kisses turned to cold glares, and conversations about the future transformed into hate-filled mutters about feeling trapped. A few weeks after their daughter’s third birthday, she divorced the man she planned to spend forever with. Her marriage devoured her hope for love. * * * * *

Oldies from the sixties and seventies flowed from the Bluetooth stereo and throughout the small kitchen. She flipped the sizzling bacon, plated the burning eggs, and buttered the steaming toast. Pausing the music, she listened for movement, like the sound of her daughter’s electric toothbrush or the squeak of those awful shoes her daughter’s school assigned as the required dress code. The sneaky eight-year-old was known for slipping back into bed after her mother returned to her busy morning schedule; however, they could not be late this morning. The bathroom door’s squeaky hinge informed her that Daphne just finished her morning routine and should appear in the kitchen soon. She chugged the remainder of the French vanilla coffee in an attempt to muster all possible energy.

Two bouncing ponytails hovered beside the wooden kitchen table and then descended until they disappeared with a giggle. “Did it look like I was walking downstairs? Daphne asked, hopping up the minute her mother chuckled at the illusion.

She nodded, wrapping her arms around her daughter’s small frame. “My little magician. Who taught you that?”

She knew the answer before she asked the question, recalling mornings when her ex-husband would send her into a fit of laughter by claiming he left the eggs downstairs and then descending behind the counter until he reappeared with two eggs in his hands. Late at night, she often wondered what happened to that man. Did she kill his spirit? Or did he reserve that side of himself for people he actually loved?

“Daddy. Will he pick me up after school?” She never knew how to answer these questions. She should have a solid answer, but her ex-husband loved creating excuses as to why he couldn’t watch their daughter during his scheduled weekends.

Instead, she replied by handing her daughter the breakfast plate. “You need to eat breakfast. We’ll leave in ten minutes.”

Daphne hopped onto the nearby stool, taking turns between eating breakfast and kicking her feet along with the music’s beat. Her mother rushed around the apartment, shoving expired library books into the young girl’s pink backpack. No matter what time her mother woke up, she was always in a hurry. She couldn’t remember a time when her mother wasn’t busy, even when they visited her grandparents, her mother took it upon herself to cook everyone dinner.

“Are you ready to start our Friday?” Y/N asked, helping the little girl into her black raincoat.

Daphne nodded, flashing her mother a wide, toothy grin before running down the quiet hallway. Shushing the eight-year-old and her heavy feet, she followed her daughter down the stairs and into the real world. She despised Fridays because Fridays looked like her, alone in the apartment with a Chinese delivery and a movie that she ignored in favor of thinking about where her life was headed. Her best friend, Christie, often suggested that they go out and find someone new, but she knew the love of her life wasn’t in a bar waiting for her. Romantic love skipped right over her, so years ago, she decided she would focus on the only love in her life, her daughter. * * * * *

A higher being loved irony, especially when leading her through life. Although her chances at true love were dashed when she signed the divorce papers, she spent the majority of her days photographing random couple’s wedding photos. Sure, she also photographed family portraits, fashion shoots, and other various photography projects, but many of her customers were couples in love.

Today, she was capturing the love between Peter and Samantha, a young couple who planned a Shakespearian wedding, so they dressed as Romeo and Juliet for the wedding invitation photos. She wondered whether Romeo and Juliet were couple goals because wasn’t the play criticizing the societal norms that killed the teens? Peter’s check told her to shut up and do what she did best–photograph the sweet couple. She had about thirty photos before her ex-husband’s ringtone startled everyone in the studio.

She sighed, waving over her assistant, “I’m sorry. Kira will provide you both with champagne while I answer this call.”

Kira poured the champagne for the happy couple, who reassured them they needed a break anyway. She walked away from the small group and farther into the studio’s storage room because her gut knew Tyler’s call was not about what he ate for lunch.

“Hello?” She prepared her heart for the excuse.

She heard shuffling on his end as if he wasn’t expecting her to answer his call. “Hey, I’m sorry to call you at work. How are you?” His deep, hypnotic voice shook with guilt.

The first time she heard that familiar shake in his voice, she thought she still made him nervous. However, she quickly learned that his voice shook when he was about to utter another lame excuse as to why he couldn’t be a father that weekend. She rolled her eyes because she did not have the time for this.

“Tyler, what is it this time?”

He sighed. “I need you to cover for me this weekend. Jo asked me to drive her to the doctor’s office, and she also planned a romantic weekend away.”

A low growl pulled her lips back into a snarl. “You can’t spend time with our daughter because you have to drive your girlfriend to the doctor? Can she not drive herself like an adult? Do you not understand how much Daphne misses you?”

“Listen, I didn’t call you for a lecture on parenting. We all can’t be perfect parents like you.” Tyler hissed, a tone she knew very well from their relationship.

The couple could argue about anything, from when the milk expired to why he never wanted to hold her hand anymore. The passion in their marriage centered around their hatred of one another until, one day, the arguments stopped, and a cold silence enveloped the couple. The heart of their marriage had shriveled up and died.

She chuckled bitterly, running her free hand through her hair. “I’m not asking you to be the perfect parent. I’m asking that you be there for our daughter, and you can’t even do that. Have fun with your girlfriend.”

Tyler ended the call without another word. Did he not respond because he knew she was right? She would break Daphne’s heart when she told her the news, but they would still have an amazing weekend because her daughter deserved it. Sighing, she regained her composure and returned to the lovely couple, whose love reminded her that love was still alive for everyone except her. * * * * *

“He canceled on Daphne again because Joanna needed an uber? Did you tell him to fuck off?” Christie complained as if she were the one who divorced Tyler.

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. “No, I did tell him to fuck off in parent though. Does Joanna not understand that Daphne misses her father?”

“You mean the woman who ruined your marriage is trying to separate your daughter from her father?” Christie’s sarcasm usually made her laugh, but those words stilled her hand on the computer mouse.

The wedding photo she was editing once again mocked her situation. Her marriage wilted away for two years, but Joanna produced the final drought that destroyed every root and petal.

She recalled the day, replaying the moments as if they were scenes from a movie. She left early that morning, dropping Daphne off with her parents while she went shopping for her daughter’s birthday party. She purchased party hats detailed with a singing, independent princess and ordered two cakes decorated with the same princess and her quirky sidekick. Deciding to surprise her husband with a lunch date, she returned to their apartment, where she found her husband kissing another woman in their kitchen.

The cheating couple spun around toward her, and his only response came in the form of an apathetic mutter, "I thought you would be gone all day." They divorced a few weeks after that. She never cried because Joanna slept with her husband; she cried because the couple shared an emotional connection far deeper than what they ever had. The love in his eyes returned and sparkled brighter than she had ever seen, all for a woman he met five months ago. He found his soulmate, and it wasn’t her.

“Y/N? Hello? Did the call drop?” Christie’s frantic questions rescued her from the dark spiral she fell into.

She gasped, realizing she had fifteen minutes of editing time before she had to pick up Daphne from school. “Yeah, I guess this photo distracted me for a moment. I’m sorry. I’ll call you later.”

The problem with phone calls is that Christie couldn’t spot her friend’s distress. Her teeth gnawed on her bottom lip, her fingers picked at her fingernail polish, and her knee bounced erratically under her desk. The couple’s smile in the photo made her stomach churn with jealousy and sorrow. When would she find her soulmate? Could anyone love her? After downloading the images onto her thumb drive, she locked away the hideous feelings behind her studio’s glass doors and walked toward her sunshine. * * * * *

Daphne dried the hot tears from her cheeks, swallowing the sobs she wished her father could hear so he would cancel the plans that kept him from her. Her watery vision focused on the delicate rings decorating the hand holding her left hand, which provided the warmth and comfort needed to soothe her broken heart. Glancing up, she admired her mother's ever-present smile that never seemed to falter, especially when her father did not have time for her.

After her mother broke the news outside of the primary school, she wiped the tears from her daughter's damp cheeks and mentioned a surprise. Walking down the busy sidewalk, they slowed their pace once Y/N spotted the neon blue sign that read Dream Cones. Two months ago, Daphne returned from a friend's birthday party and raved about the delicious ice cream served. Today, Y/N saw the friend's mother at the school, and she asked for the ice cream shop's name to surprise her daughter. Her daughter's sparkling eyes and enthusiastic giggles revived her heart from her earlier conversation with Tyler and Christie.

“Surprise. Should we go inside?” She asked, already knowing the answer she would receive from her daughter.

Daphne nodded, gripping her mother’s hand with the strength of a hundred sugar-crazed children. Y/N might regret her decision later, like during their bedtime routine, but her daughter deserved a good childhood, and she would strive to provide her with that. As they entered the shop, a golden bell chimed loudly above their heads. “Welcome to Dream Cones.” The men and women cheered from behind the white marble counters. The warm, sugary scent of freshly baked waffle cones greeted their noses. Y/N's eyes flitted around the room, stopping briefly on the cerulean walls, the ornamental vanilla cone hung above the menu, and the wooden tables crowded with laughing families. Despite the conversations melding together into nonsensical noise, she could still pick up the soft pop music flowing through some unseen speaker.

Daphne seemed to speak the words she was thinking, “This place is cool.”

They approached the marble counter, reading the various ice cream labels, which featured unique names like lemonade over ice. She enjoyed the clever names; however, her eyes and stomach could not believe how fluffy and creamy each flavor looked.

“Mommy, will I like Sign of the Limes?” Chuckling at the amusing name, Y/N wondered whether the staff competed to create the unique names or the owner carefully curated each one.

“Yeah, do you want a cup or a cone?” The eight-year-old took a second to consider her options before ultimately choosing the waffle cone.

Y/N nodded, waiting until one of the women behind the counter asked for their order. She ordered the flavor Watermelon Sugar in a cup and Sign of the Limes in a cone for Daphne.

“Watermelon Sugar is my favorite flavor.” The cheerful worker commented, handing out the coral-colored ice cream. “Let me know how you like it.”

“Absolutely, I’m a sucker for anything watermelon flavored.” She giggled, agreeing with her customer that anything watermelon flavored was superior.

“Okay, your total is 23.96.”

Y/N's eyes widened, and she nearly gasped when she heard the price. She appreciated the artistic decor and the friendly workers; however, twelve-dollar ice cream was expensive for a single mother's budget. Smiling through the pain, she handed the woman her card.

“This is delicious. Can we have ice cream every Friday?” Daphne asked between mouthfuls.

Y/N giggled, wiping the messy corners of her daughter’s mouth with a napkin. “Of course.” She would find room in the budget for twelve-dollar ice cream as long as it made her daughter happy.

She stole a spoonful of ice cream from Daphne, which resulted in her daughter shooting her a playful glare, which she fixed by giving her a spoonful of her own ice cream as an equal trade. Between the two flavors, she could not decide which one she enjoyed the most. While she liked how the lime's zestiness did not overpower her palette, the watermelon found a balance between salty and sweet due to the salt crystals disguised as watermelon seeds. However, she knew one thing for sure, she loved the shop. After they finished their treats, they returned to the counter.

“Well, what is the verdict on Watermelon Sugar?” The woman asked, wiping the counters with a wet dishrag.

“Absolutely delicious,” she licked her lips. “Can you give our compliments to your boss?”

The woman nodded fervently, “Of course.” Then she paused, processing her idea before responding with a smirk. “Would you like to tell him yourself? He recently returned from a late meeting.”

Y/N shrugged, unsure about the possible interaction, but she recalled the numerous compliments she received from customers and agreed to the suggestion.

The worker walked away, disappearing behind a door labeled Employees Only. Y/N understood her compliments could brighten the owner's day; however, the longer the woman remained behind the door, the longer she had to overthink the future conversation. What if the owner did not care about her opinion and laughed in her face? What if the owner misunderstood and expected her to complain? Her worries eased once the door swung open, revealing the worker and a Greek God. The moment her eyes fell upon the curly-haired man with his lime-green sweater, her mouth ran dry.

“Hello, I'm the owner, Harry.” The man's low and slow tone melted her heart like ice cream on a summer day.

She smiled dreamily, “Hello, I'm Y/N, and this is my daughter, Daphne.”

Before she could produce a compliment, he turned and faced the little girl. “Hello Daphne, did you enjoy your ice cream?”

She watched in awe; not only did he acknowledge her daughter, but he also cared about her opinion. The girl's father rarely asked about her interests. She reminded herself not to idolize this stranger's kind gesture simply because her ex-husband lacked decent human qualities.

“Yes sir, my mommy bought me a lime cone. She said we could come back every Friday.” Daphne gushed, revealing their plan with a toothy grin.

Harry's smile widened, unveiling two crescent-shaped dimples that dented his cheeks. The man was perfect. “Awesome, you must have a cool mom.”

Daphne agreed, smiling proudly at her mother, who blinked back happy tears. Y/N cleared her throat, feeling slightly embarrassed that her daughter's compliment nearly brought her to tears.

“We appreciate you and your staff. Everyone is so kind, and the ice cream tastes wonderful.” She mumbled timidly.

His crystal green eyes found hers, sending chills down her spine at how they seemed to sparkle from the compliment. He reached up, placing his palms over his heart.

“Thank you. Our customers brighten our day, but compliments like these are the reason why we opened this place. What flavor did you try?”

“Watermelon sugar, and I think I’ll crave it until next Friday.” She giggled, shaking her head in shame over her sweet tooth.

Harry threw his head back, releasing an abrupt cackle that fluttered her heart. Her mind stuttered, questioning why her body was reacting to this man she met five minutes ago. Why did his beautiful laugh make her want to join in?

“Imagine how I must feel working here. I spend a majority of my day in my office because if I didn’t, I would have to reopen my gym membership.”

Now, it was her turn to laugh, a proper boisterous laugh, which she had not heard in quite a while. However, her ex-husband's cruel nature rang loudly in her head, reminding her not to be annoying. She quickly recovered, silencing her laugh and preparing an apology, but before she could speak, Harry settled her doubts and insecurities.

“You have a beautiful laugh.” He admired her melodic laugh.

She ducked her head, hiding her sheepish grin from him. Daphne's eyes traveled back and forth from the curly-haired stranger to her bashful mother. The interaction made her question why her mother and father never laughed or smiled around one another. Did her mother like this man more than her father? Daphne hummed, examining the man further, deciding whether or not she liked him, and since she liked the lamb on his sweater, she decided the man was okay to talk with her mother. However, she needed to leave soon to change out of her uncomfortable shoes.

“Mommy, my feet hurt.”

Daphne's whines reminded Y/N, that as a mother, she should not flirt with random men. She didn’t have time for a relationship and should focus all her efforts on her daughter. Cooing, she lifted the exhausted little girl up into her arms.

“Well, I hope to see you two soon. Daphne, next time try the Lucky Charms ice cream." Harry suggested, waving goodbye to the mother and daughter.

Daphne created a mental note to try the suggested flavor next time. However, she doubted her father would bring her next Friday, so she hoped her mother might bring her back before then. Y/N wondered whether she could return to the ice cream shop. Her heart rejoiced from the attention like a middle schooler who received a note from their secret admirer. However, she could not allow this infatuation to blossom into anything else. She would return because Daphne loved the ice cream, but she would not flirt with the handsome man. * * * * *

Red paint bled through the thin paper and mixed into the watery blue paint, coloring the princess's hair a violent purple. The plastic paint brush fell against the kitchen counter at the familiar sound of jingling keys unlocking the apartment door. The little girl raced toward the door that swung open to reveal her mother’s beaming smile.

“Mommy, I missed you.” Daphne confessed, jumping into her mother’s loving embrace.

Holding her daughter tight, Y/N chuckled and dropped her purse onto the nearby table. “I missed you too, Nugget. Where is your Aunt Christie?”

“She’s cooking dinner in the kitchen before you think I abandoned your daughter.” Christie shouted from the kitchen, making the mother and daughter giggle.

When setting her daughter down, she spotted a bright red paint stain on the girl’s uniform, which transferred onto her blazer. Pressing her palm against her forehead, she hoped Christie bought washable paint so she wouldn’t have to purchase another uniform blouse for Daphne.

“Mommy, come and look at my painting.” Her daughter grabbed her hands, leading her toward the kitchen, and with that simple gesture, her worries about stained clothes washed away.

While some might consider the painting grotesque due to the amount of red paint coating the cartoon princess’s body, she admired the art as if Van Gogh completed the masterpiece himself. She grabbed a yellow alphabet magnet from one of the kitchen’s drawers and hung the art on the fridge.

While the little girl danced with joy, Christie announced, “Watch out world. A new artist has entered the scene, and her name is Daphne.”

Since last Friday, Y/N noticed how Daphne rarely cried over Tyler’s absence, and she finished the wedding photos without any more pity parties. Choosing to ignore her previous stressors, she found herself singing and laughing more often. Eventually, she knew Christie would ask about her sudden change in mood, and the question came during dinner.

"You two seem happier. What happened? Did Daphne pour sugar in your cereal?" Christie wondered, earning a giggle from her niece.

Daphne responded first, answering the questions through a mouthful of broccoli. "No, do you remember when Andrew had delicious ice cream at his birthday party? Mommy took me to that ice cream shop, and I ate an entire scoop."

Christie’s brown eyes widened in pretend shock. “An entire scoop by yourself? Are you sure your Mommy didn’t help you?”

She nodded as if she were convincing her Aunt of something unbelievable. "I did because it tastes like your key-lime pie, but next time, I'm going to try the Lucky Charms flavor because Mr. Harry told me to. I like Mr. Harry. He made Mommy laugh."

At the mention of Harry's name, Y/N ducked her head down like a teenager avoiding an awkward conversation with her mother. Taking an interest in the vegan meatloaf on her plate sounded better than making eye contact with her nosy best friend. However, once Christie cleared her throat, she knew she could not escape the inevitable questioning. Glancing up, she found herself face-to-face with Christie's smirk.

“Who is Harry?” Those three words manifested a swarm of butterflies in her stomach.

She attempted to shrug nonchalantly to convince her best friend that he was not important, but her robotic movements unveiled her nerves about the subject.

“He owns the ice cream shop. We complimented the shop, and he thanked us.”

Christie knew her best friend better than anyone else, and the slight sparkle in her eyes told her all she needed to know. Y/N finally found a man worthy enough to develop a crush on. This time, she hoped she wouldn't ignore her feelings and allow herself to find happiness.

“Is this Harry attractive?” Y/N squeaked at the straightforward question, which only made Christie laugh loud and long.

Munching on the lumpy mashed potatoes, Daphne watched the women talk about Harry. She noticed how her mother wore the same smile from Friday, the smile showed more teeth, unlike the tight-lip grin she sported around Daphne's father. Her grandmother wore a similar smile when she told her granddaughter the story of how she met her grandfather. Was this what adults call love? Shouldn't her mother love her father?

Y/N took a sip from her glass of red wine before responding, “He could be a Gucci model.”

Christie hissed as if she burnt her hand on something hot. “You caught the attention of a Gucci model, and you didn’t ask him to father your children?”

Y/N gasped, reaching across the table to lightly slap her friend's arm. "Daphne is in the room." She grumbled, shaking her head with embarrassment.

Christie frowned, deciding it best to change the subject. They could discuss the possible Gucci model at a later date when her niece was not around.

Instead, she turned toward the little girl and asked, "Babe, did you tell your mom about music class?"

Daphne gasped, falling into an animated story about how Ms. Lee assigned her the role of drummer in the class band. Y/N hung on every word, but her mind and ears groaned at the mental image of her parents surprising Daphne with her very own drum kit. After that story, they all took turns telling stories from their day until their plates were empty. At the end of the night, Christie hugged them goodbye and informed Y/N that she would call tomorrow for more details about Harry. Once she shut the door, Daphne asked the question that had been on her mind since dinner.

“Do you love Daddy?”

Y/N froze, gaping at her daughter like a fish out of water. Tonight must have been the night for shocking questions because every question caught her off guard. How should she answer? Should she call Tyler before she answers? Her heart uttered the words, just be honest with her.

“I do love your father, but not in the same way that grandma loves grandpa. I want your father to be happy and healthy, but we stopped being in love a long time ago.” She hoped the questions would end there, but her daughter was as curious as her mother.

“Why?”

She hummed, kneeling so she could look into her daughter’s eyes. “Well, your father and I were very young when we met, and we did not know who we were as people. During our marriage, we both changed and realized that we were better off as friends than husband and wife. I’m sure your father is happy we ended our marriage because he found Joanna, and she makes him happy.”

While Daphne nodded, Y/N could see her mind trying to process the information before coming to the conclusion, “I’m glad that Daddy is happy, but I want you to be happy too.”

Tears blurred the woman’s vision, and she choked through a heartbreaking sob. How could her daughter not see that she was one of the few people who brought her happiness? She shook her head, cupping her daughter’s cheeks. “Baby, you make me the happiest mom in the world. Now, how about we cuddle and watch some cartoons before bed?”

“Yes, can we watch my favorite show?” Daphne asked, bouncing with excitement.

“Of course.” Standing up, she walked into the living room with her daughter by her side. Watching the silly cartoon, they forgot about the heavy conversation and enjoyed each other’s company. Y/N would answer Christie’s questions tomorrow, but today’s conversation with Daphne reminded her that her family was more important than a handsome man. * * * * *

The bright sun peeked out behind the dreary clouds, drying the murky puddles from the sidewalks and streets. Birds flew from the damp branches, lightening the solemn mood with cheerful chirps and songs. People fled from their busy schedules to spend a few moments outside, enjoying the sights, sounds, and smells of nature.

Since her next client booked a later appointment, she decided to eat lunch at the nearby park. The fork poked at the roasted brussel sprouts while she watched the crowds of people around her, from the family of three setting up a picnic to the lovely couple sharing a lunch before their offices called.

There were moments when her parents dropped all worries and duties to escape into nature for a few days, like the weekend her parents planned an impromptu camping trip because the deadlines became too much, so instead, they taught her how to build a fire and enjoy the music of the critters. She carried that sentiment into her life, finding moments throughout the week to feel the fresh air on her skin. However, her buzzing phone interrupted her second of silent gratitude.

Sighing, she answered the call despite knowing what it would bring. “Hello?”

“Hey, I need a favor. Before you lecture me about the importance of parenting, just know that I will pick up Daphne, but my boss scheduled an emergency afternoon evening. We probably won’t get out until six, so can you watch her until then? I would ask Joanna, but her boss double-booked her.” With wide eyes, she pulled the phone from her ear to double-check that the man speaking with her was her ex-husband.

This man would rather spend time with his daughter than create an excuse to skip out on his fatherly duties. Typically, she could hear the annoyance in his voice as if having a child were a burden. While her heart soared at the possibility that her daughter might finally have a father who took an interest in her life, her mind questioned and created reasons why he suddenly cared about their daughter.

“Of course, should I feed her dinner? Or do you and Joanna have dinner plans?” She asked, thinking of how long it had been since she and Tyler had a civil co-parenting conversation.

He hummed in thought for a second before deciding, “We can feed her. Wait, I almost forgot, could we keep her until Monday?”

Her heart stuttered when she thought about spending the entire weekend away from her daughter. She could not recall the last time she spent more than a few hours, let alone a day, without her. Also, she worried about her ex-husband's fatherly nature. Sure, she wanted him to spend time with their daughter, but she worried that he would not successfully prepare her for a school day.

His reassurance broke her reluctant silence. “Y/N, you can trust me. I have a few pairs of her school uniform, I know her schedule, and I will walk her to the front gates. I can even update you. Please, let me keep her for the weekend.”

She sighed, rubbing her temples with her free hand. “Fine, but promise me that you will call me if anything goes wrong.”

Tyler chuckled, shocking her even more because she hadn’t heard that delightful sound in so long. “I promise. Joanna and I planned a Sunday dinner with my parents, and they asked if they could see Daphne, complaining that they haven’t seen her since her birthday party.”

Rolling her eyes, she exhaled the irritation growing in her chest. Her relationship with Tyler's parents was rocky. During their first meeting, they wooed her with luxury cars and expensive food, which differed from the lifestyle she grew up with.

However, once she announced her pregnancy, his parents uninvited her to their events and took to uttering hateful comments about their future granddaughter. Everything about the situation threatened their social status in the gated community. The cruel comments ceased the moment they laid their eyes on the beautiful baby, and instead, they turned their cold glares and vicious whispers toward Y/N.

They criticized her parenting skills and provided unwarranted advice on how to raise a polite young lady. Despite their hostility, Y/N sent frequent updates and planned weekends for them to visit, so their comment to Tyler irked her. If they had not seen Daphne since her birthday party, it was because they chose not to.

“When will your parents stop being so charming? Daphne will be excited to see her grandparents.”

Tyler laughed sarcastically, understanding the trouble his parents caused everyone. “I’m glad that someone will be happy to see them. Well, I better finish these reports. I’ll see you tonight.”

Ending the call, she sat, shocked that they discussed their daughter without starting an argument. Throughout the years, she could count on one hand the amount of civil co-parenting conversations they had. She wondered how long this civility would last and if her advice about being a better father finally permeated his mind. She shook her head, deciding to focus on the positive rather than overthink the conversation until she found a reason to spoil it. If she was on after-school duty, then she and Daphne could stop by Dreams Cones, which meant she might run into Harry again. She leaned her head back, thanking the sun for blessing everyone. * * * * *

Children gathered around the marble counters to speculate about the new ice cream flavor, teenagers borrowed board games from a bookshelf to rid themselves of the pressures from school, and parents claimed tables to discuss upcoming weekend plans.

Daphne sprinted toward the crowd, ignoring her mother’s stern reminder that people do not run indoors. The magenta-colored ice cream gained everyone's attention because, unlike the other flavors, this new sweet treat lacked a name. Instead, someone had scribbled three question marks onto the paper card taped to the glass display.

Harry chose unique names for the other flavors, so she wondered why he hadn't done the same for this one. Perhaps he needed to workshop the name some more, but his excitement insisted that he could not keep the flavor from his customers any longer. Maybe he chose a name but taped the wrong placard to the display.

Breaking her focus from the mystery container, she looked up, expecting to find the grinning woman from their last visit; however, she found herself face to face with the owner’s irresistible dimpled grin. All the air from her lungs became trapped in her throat, and her heart tried beating out of her chest and into his beautiful hands.

“Y/N, I'm happy to see that you and Daphne returned.” The sincerity in his voice made her heart flutter wildly. Despite the numerous customers he met daily, he remembered their names and actually sounded happy to see them. She wondered whether or not this man was real.

Locking away her bothersome emotions, she responded rationally and calmly. “Thank you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” Well, she tried.

Harry's eyebrows shot up, but once the initial shock cleared, he didn't seem disgusted by her comment. Instead, his warm smile shifted into a smug grin as if her slip-up intrigued him. While he handled the situation with grace, she prayed for the ground to open up and swallow her whole. She pictured some higher being cackling at her as she shook her head fervently.

“I'm sorry. I meant to say I haven't stopped thinking about your ice cream. I promise I'm not trying to hit on you." Her mind begged her mouth to shut up. She didn't want him to think she didn't find him attractive. "Not that you aren't incredibly handsome."

Processing the conversation, she groaned and dragged a palm down her face. At that moment, she decided someone could die from embarrassment. She recalled when she could speak normally with people she found attractive, but her skills must be rusty from their lack of use.

An amused chuckle flittered past his rosy lips as he crossed his arms across his chest, clearly enjoying the sight of her squirming and scrambling to correct herself. “Thank you, I needed that today. I woke up feeling unsure about myself. Would it be inappropriate to say that you look beautiful?”

“It's not, thank you.” She mumbled, biting back a bashful grin.

For a moment, she basked in his sweet words, allowing her heart to soar with excitement because he thought she was beautiful. Would she replay this conversation before she fell asleep tonight? Yes, she would repeat his words and alter the situation so that it ends with them on a romantic date. Her dreams were the only space she could be selfish and chase after the life she wanted.

Daphne watched the shy couple flirt with one another, stopping her staring only once to wave and smile at Harry when he looked at her. Thanks to her friends, she realized that her mother might have a crush on the curly-haired man.

During recess, she told Ziva and Andrew about the situation, and they informed her that her mother like-liked Harry. However, Ziva raised an important question, did Daphne want a new father? She didn't know. She never questioned her parent's relationship because her earlier memories always featured her father's girlfriend. Did she wonder why her parents weren't in love like Ziva or Andrew's parents? Yes, but if her father could be happy with Joanna, then her mother deserved happiness too. She was hesitant to replace her father with Harry, but she would accept him because he made her mom happy.

“Hi Daphne, how are you?” He asked, returning her wave.

“I’m excited because I get to spend the weekend with my dad and Joanna.” She announced through a toothy smile.

He glanced at Y/N, scanning her face for negative emotions before returning his attention to the little girl. “I hope you have an excellent time with them. Did you want to surprise your father with a cup of our ice cream?”

She shook her head while her mother answered his question. “Although my ex-husband loves surprises, he despises anything sweet.”

Then Daphne added some vital information, “He’s also allergic to milk.”

Harry chuckled, nodding slowly. “Well, that’s too bad, but at least you can still enjoy ice cream. What flavors will you two be trying today?”

Daphne found herself in a predicament. The Lucky Charm ice cream promised colorful marshmallows and cavity-causing sweetness, but the mystery flavor guaranteed excitement and amazement. What flavor did her mother want? Could she convince her to order the new flavor while she stuck with the safest option? Before Daphne could decide, her mother eased all of her stress.

“I might try the new flavor.” His dimpled grin reappeared at her response.

He nodded once before bouncing toward the purple treat, his head bobbing side-to-side with each step. Elation radiated from his heart and soul, eliminating anyone's sour mood in a two-mile radius. Y/N and Daphne shared an amused look and a giggle before following the man. The short distance between them allowed Y/N to peek at his outfit for the day, which consisted of navy blue dress pants, a pastel blue striped dress shirt (which he folded at the elbow, a look she found herself drooling over), and a sweater vest with white sheep dotted over it. She should hire him as her stylist since her closet consisted of worn shirts and blazers for work.

“Recently, I created a new ice cream flavor, but I struggled with the naming process. I wrote down multiple unoriginal names. Until I had an idea to let my customers choose the new name. If you order the ice cream, you will also receive a slip of paper to write down your idea and drop it in the box by the door. In two weeks, the staff and I will choose our favorite suggestion, and the winner will receive free ice cream for a month.” Once Harry finished his announcement, she realized a crowd of curious customers had gathered around them. Perhaps she should have paid attention to the contest rules instead of watching his rosy lips curve around each word.

“How fun and creative. Can I have one scoop of the mystery flavor in a cup, and a–” she paused, realizing she hadn’t asked Daphne what flavor she wanted.

Luckily, he heard the lull in her speech and jumped in where she left off, “Daphne, what flavor would you like?”

“Lucky Charms in a cone.” Daphne's anxious heart rested easy because now she could taste both flavors without the risk of wasting her Friday treat on an icky treat.

Before scooping the sweet treat, he readjusted his sleeves, pushing the starchy material further up his arm. Y/N couldn't help but admire the concentrated crinkle between his eyebrows as he created the perfect scoop. Her knees even went weak when his pink tongue poked out to swipe over his bottom lip. Why did this man have such a powerful effect on her? Was she really that lonely? Her mind reminded her heart that true love did not exist, and her feelings were caused by a chemical reaction.

“Here you go, love. Be careful, the cone is a bit messy.” He mumbled, handing her their order. While reaching for the cone, her fingers brushed against his soft hands, sending her heart into a frenzy. What did her brain know about love?

Before Harry could ring up the two scoops, two teenagers shouted their orders at him. He appeared hesitant, stuck between helping these new customers and continuing his conversation with them. However, he chose the former in an attempt to ease the customers’ scowls. Another cheerful staff member informed Y/N that he could finish where his boss left off, and although she doubted that, she followed him to the register.

“What does the flavor remind you of?” She asked, processing the tangy yet fruity flavors dancing along her tongue. Did she taste blueberry or blackberry? When was the last time she ate a blackberry?

Her daughter hummed, tapping the spoon’s handle against her chin. “Christmas.”

Confusion halted all other thoughts about the flavor. Instead, she chuckled lightly, raising an eyebrow. “Christmas? Why?”

The little girl shrugged, delving into her well-thought-out response, “Every Christmas morning, Grandma surprises us with blueberry muffins, and when I taste this, I miss Christmas and Grandma.”

In parenthood, there were many moments when a child might say something sweet, which not only made the parent proud of the small person they were raising but also brought tears to their eyes. She rubbed the corners of her eyes, catching any stray tears from rolling down her cheeks. When she missed her parents, she would replay memories of Christmas mornings in her mind because they radiated love and happiness, and now, she learned that her daughter also cherished those moments.

“Well, we should suggest the name, Christmas morning.” A gleeful giggle bubbled past Daphne's lips as she watched her mom write down the name on the slip of paper. “Should we leave? Your father should be at the apartment soon.”

Daphne nodded, sliding off the chair. “I can’t wait to see Daddy. Do you think he’ll take me to the zoo?”

While her daughter bombarded her with questions about the weekend, Y/N glanced over at Harry, wondering whether she should say goodbye; however, his furrowed brows and the crowded counter convinced her to walk away. Dropping the paper slip into the box by the door, she answered a few of her daughter’s twenty questions. She ignored the painful tug in her heart caused by the thought that she wouldn’t see Harry until next Friday.

Reigning in her emotions, she reminded herself that she did not have time to date. Also, why would Harry want to date a single mother? She pictured him dating a beautiful, up-and-coming model who spent her free time ending world hunger. He belonged with someone as wonderful as he was and who did not have as much baggage as she did. Thankfully, Daphne pulled her mother from another spiral with a hilarious joke about cows and movies. Laughter dissolved her stress as she wrapped an arm around her daughter’s shoulders, bringing her ball of sunshine closer so that her gray clouds might float away. * * * * *

Neon-pink lights illuminated the dark room while trendy music blared from a nearby speaker. Draping a feathery boa around her shoulders, an optimistic university student discussed her dreams about the future. She imagined exploring unknown locations, tasting world cuisine, meeting new people, and falling in love with strangers. She might even find her soulmate on a beach in Greece. While the camera captured the young woman's beauty, Y/N listened intently as if this girl were her daughter. Through a warm smile, she showed her support for the young woman and her aspirations because they reminded her of the goals she made before meeting Tyler. However, she hoped no one derailed this woman from achieving her dreams.

“Scrolling through the photos, the woman gasped. “Wow, you made me look beautiful.” She whispered in awe, selecting the perfect one for her birthday Instagram post.

Y/N chuckled, returning the extra props to the storage room. Since her next appointment was after lunch, she would reorganize the items once the customer left. Easy days, like today, were great because they allowed her to catch up on simple tasks she kept putting off. If she bribed her assistant, Kira, into helping, they might be able to leave earlier for lunch.

“Remember, the camera captures the art. You were always beautiful. I hope you have an excellent birthday.”

The young woman pouted her lips and cupped her chest. “Thank you. Can I give you a hug?”

The woman briefly hugged Y/N, then spun around and walked out as if she were on her next mission, but not without almost bumping into Kira at the door.

“She’s in a hurry,” Kira mumbled, glancing back at the young woman getting into her Uber ride.

Y/N grinned. "It's her birthday, so she scheduled a self-love day. What did you bring me?" She asked, eyeing the two plastic cups filled with iced coffee.

Growing up, she despised coffee and coffee-flavored products. However, once she gave birth to Daphne, her body craved the extra energy, juggling between university classes and a newborn baby. As long as she flavored the drink with creams and syrups, she could find the strength within to swallow the liquid. Now, her body could not function without an ounce of coffee coursing through her veins.

“I ordered two brown sugar coffees with oat milk. Have we tried that one?” Her assistant asked, handing her the cold drink.

Every week, they ordered a drink they hadn’t tried before, but she also didn’t remember trying this drink, so it had to be new. She shook her head, sipping the caffeinated beverage, immediately tasting the harsh, bitter coffee notes rather than the sugary sweetness she was used to. She couldn’t disappoint her assistant, who appeared to love the drink by the speed at which she was drinking it, so she hummed and nodded her head as if the drink impressed her.

“Thank you. It's delicious, but I miss my usual order." She lied partially because she did miss her favorite caramel-flavored coffee, but she did not enjoy the new drink.

“I'm glad we tried something new,” Kira admitted before glancing at the crowded storage room. “Do you need help reorganizing the props?”

She nodded. “If we finish early enough, we can have a long lunch.”

“Sure thing.” Kira followed her toward the room, pausing the moment she remembered the last-minute appointment she had not added to her boss's calendar. “Wait, I scheduled an eleven o’clock appointment. The client’s name is Gemma Styles. She and her brother want to surprise their mother with a sibling portrait.”

“Okay, that sounds easy enough.” She mumbled, loading a few props into her arms. “Will you stay at the front desk and wait for them?”

While tidying the storage room, Y/N thought about Daphne and the weekend. Tyler's parenting skills surprised her. He planned a zoo visit, sent her photos of Daphne with the flamingos, and called her every night so their daughter could say goodnight. He hadn’t been a present parent for two years, but she couldn’t be happier that something or someone finally woke that side of him up.

Her only complaint involved the lack of information about yesterday’s dinner with his parents. When she asked about his parents, he avoided the subject, which meant they either criticized his parenting skills or hers, but curiosity bubbled within. What did they say? If it was about her, did he stand up for her? Was it about Joanna? She hoped Daphne could answer these questions when she picked her up from school.

“Welcome to Artistic Lens. My name is Kira. How may I help you?” Kira’s question announced the arrival of her afternoon clients. “Hello, I’m Harry. This is my sister Gemma.” Her ears perked up the moment she heard his angelic voice.

Her hands paused their movements while her mind raised questions. Was Harry actually in her studio? Did he know she owned this space? Is that why he chose this location? Wiping the sweat from her palms onto her jeans, she ignored the questions distracting her from moving. She cleared her throat, reminding herself to remain professional because he was her client first and potential crush second. She could not afford another slip-up like the last time they spoke.

She spotted his curly locks first, then his floral sweater, which featured an array of bright colors like turquoise and sunflower yellow. Gemma, his sister, wore a floral dress that contained similar colors to her brother's outfit. The siblings shared characteristics, such as their astounding beauty and cheek dimples. She wondered if they had tried modeling. She could picture them walking the runway in Gucci, Bode, and other big-name designers.

“Hello, I'm Y/N, and I'm the photographer.” She plastered her best customer service grin onto her face to appear unbothered.

When he heard her voice, Harry experienced four distinct emotions: confusion, realization, happiness, and lastly, embarrassment. A sheepish grin unraveled across his face while his eyes met hers once before glancing around the room. She smiled at his sister, chalking up his shy behavior as his reaction to seeing her outside the ice cream parlor, like a student seeing their teacher out in the wild. However, Kira and Gemma witnessed the interaction, leading his sister to embarrass him further.

“It’s lovely to meet you. Harry, didn’t you just tell me about a woman named Y/N, who you found very—” Harry’s eyes widened, and his hands covered his sister’s mouth before she could finish her sentence.

While Gemma shoved her brother away, Kira and Y/N shared an amused look. He huffed, fixing his posture and rolling his eyes. Y/N giggled, finding the entire situation sweet and flattering because, according to his sister, Harry talked about her.

“Harry and I have met. My daughter and I love his ice cream shop. Now, tell me about your vision.”

She moved the conversation forward and away from their flirty friendship, watching his shoulders deflate and his dimpled grin return as if he could finally relax.

“Our mom always complains that we never take pictures together anymore, so we planned on surprising her with photos of us.” Gemma explained, obviously taking charge of the surprise.

Y/N nodded, motioning toward her camera and the backdrops. “Great, we can get started over there. Kira, will you bring us the wooden bench from the storage room?” While her assistant disappeared to the storage room, she positioned the Styles siblings in front of the gray backdrop.

Before beginning the photoshoot, she checked the lighting, flipped through the camera settings, and examined their outfits. Harry paired his bright sweater with beige pants, and Gemma tied a pink scarf around her neck to match the peonies on her brother's top. She feared the light colors might wash out the siblings; however, the camera captured their beauty and radiating glow.

“You both look amazing. I selected your first pose, but feel free to move and pose as you like. I want the photos to look natural rather than two perfectly still models.” She explained, snapping a few test shots.

Kira returned shortly with the bench, placing the item beside the backdrop. "Should I turn on your playlist?"

She nodded, “Sure, unless Gemma or Harry, do you want to play a certain playlist?” Lifting her head from the camera, she saw Harry shaking his head.

“No, you should play your music. People find my music taste—” He paused, rummaging through his mind for the correct word to describe his music, but Gemma responded for her brother before he could even stop her, “Eclectic.”

“Yes, so please, play whatever you like.” His eager smile contained a level of excitement that she found endearing, almost as if he truly wanted to learn what music she loved.

Shuffling the playlist, she smiled when her favorite singer crooned through the speaker.

“I love this song,” Harry confessed, bopping his head to the beat.

“Me too. Don't you want to sing along?” She asked, humming with the love-sick singer.

She pictured a life where she and her spouse would listen to this music while cooking dinner. A life where they would sing along, off-key, of course, while chopping vegetables. Her spouse would grab Daphne's hands and dance with her around the kitchen. She would capture these important moments with her camera. A room overflowing with love and laughter.

Lately, these daydreams featured a curly-haired, green-eyed man. His hands would grip her hips, spinning her around and away from the cutting board while he hummed some romantic song. They would waltz around the kitchen, discussing their days in hushed whispers. Eventually, he would let her finish dinner while he helped Daphne with schoolwork. During these moments, she believed someone as handsome as Harry could love her.

Gemma chuckled, shaking her head while finding a new pose. “You don’t want me to sing. Unlike Harry, some of us weren’t born with an amazing voice. Did you know he was in a band?”

Her head shot up from the camera as she blinked the shock away. Harry, feeling sheepish again, twiddled his thumbs while she stared at him in awe. “First, who cares if we suck at singing? We should sing along anyway. Second, you were in a band? Please tell me more.”

While dragging his fingers through his hair, a nervous chuckle fumbled past his rosy lips. “When I was fourteen, me and my mates decided to start a band. Our parents and friends hired us for local events, but the band barely survived two years.”

“During his university years, he performed solo at pubs.” Gemma added, smiling proudly at her brother.

Y/N smiled through her shock. During their university years, she and Tyler spent many weekends at pubs, and now, she wondered if she and Harry were ever in the same room. However, she thinks she would have remembered his angelic voice and alluring presence.

“Well, I think that’s amazing. You are quite the catch, Harry.” She winked, bringing back his dimpled grin.

Continuing the photoshoot, Y/N focused on backdrops, props, and poses. Everyone fell into a comfortable silence, only speaking when Gemma mentioned a topic she planned on discussing on her podcast. During these moments, Y/N agreed with her positive attitudes and views. She could see Gemma joining her and Christie for Sunday brunch, where they could gossip and laugh over mimosas. Should she befriend the sister of the man she was crushing on? Her eyes washed over him, admiring the sparkle in his green eyes and the two tattooed swallows on his chest. She paused. When did this gentle, shy man get two tattoos? Were there more?

“You have a tattoo.” What should have been a question came out as a statement, one that made Harry scan his body as if searching for which tattoo might be on display, which only answered her question that there must be more than the two on his chest, then with a furrowed brow and worried eyes, he made eye contact with her intrigued ones.

He cleared his throat before speaking up. “Yeah, I have multiple tattoos. During uni, my mate bought a tattoo gun, which resulted in many stupid tattoos, but I don’t regret them. They remind me of a different time.”

While listening to his explanation, her heart fluttered. “That’s incredibly sweet. I want a tattoo, but I’m terrified of needles. I nearly fainted when the nurses gave me the epidural for Daphne’s birth.” Her confession made the siblings chuckle.

“I was like that during my first tattoo, but now, I'm a pro. If you really want one, I could come with you to keep you company." He stuttered through the end of the sentence as if his mind processed what his mouth said. “Unless you want to bring anyone else who isn’t a complete stranger to you.” He rambled, trying to fix his earlier statement.

She shook her head with an amused giggle. “Harry, you aren’t a complete stranger. I’m very touched by your offer, and if I ever decide to get a tattoo, you will be the first person I call.”

He sighed with relief, dropping his shoulders down from his ears. Gemma observed the interaction, noting her brother's unusual behavior. Throughout her life, she witnessed Harry's confidence first-hand. From the moment he could talk, he loved being the center of attention, and his charming attitude introduced him to more relationships than she could remember. She recalled a time when he tripped over a rug, ripped his pants, and still received a phone number from the person he was chatting up. His confidence carried him through life, and she had never seen it falter until she watched her brother flirt with the photographer.

“Okay, we are all done. I think your mother will love these.” Y/N bragged because although she captured the magic, she couldn’t have done it without Gemma and Harry’s natural beauty and warmth.

“Thank you so much.” Gemma giggled with excitement, wrapping her arms around the photographer’s body.

Y/N chuckled, returning the comforting hug. She spotted Harry’s warm smile over Gemma’s shoulder, which served as his “thank you” for the photographs and for entertaining his sister. The smile resembled that of a loving boyfriend, happy that his girlfriend impressed his family. Her stomach clenched with butterflies at the idea of Harry as her boyfriend.

She pulled away from the hug, dropping her gaze from him. “Once I edit the photos, I’ll send them to you. Should I have any questions, is the number on file a good one to reach you at?”

Gemma nodded, then hummed as if a thought just struck her. “Well, I probably won’t answer if I’m in an interview.” She turned toward her brother with a mischievous grin, revealing her intentions. “You should give her your number too. You answer the phone more than I do.”

He nodded once, scribbling his number onto the contact sheet Kira provided them. Y/N could sense his annoyance with Gemma's constant embarrassing comments, so she planned to make the rest of the interaction fast and painless. She handed Kira the sheet, which they would file later, and then faced the siblings.

“Great, I hope you two have an excellent day.” Y/N smiled.

Harry mumbled a “you too” under his breath, shuffling toward the glass door, unlike his sister, who had one more plan up her sleeves. “Wait, have you eaten lunch? Harry and I would love to treat you to lunch as a thank you.”

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat, her mind racing with every reason why she should not accept the invitation. Harry noticed the hesitation in her eyes, which landed on his, and searched for any sign that he did not want her to join them, but all she found was a warm welcome.

“You should come. I’d love to get to know you more.” He spoke up, running a hand through his hair.

Y/N nodded, matching his dazed grin. “Well, I’m never one to turn down a free lunch. I would love to join you.”

#mine #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #one direction #new series

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restlessmaknae · 2 months

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your heart is the target // jay

The last thing Jay expected when striking a fake dating deal with you was to get jealous (and ultimately, to fall head over heels for you).

➳ Characters: rich business student!Jay x professional archer!female reader/you

➳ Genre: fake dating au, high society au, olympics au, fluff, comedy

➳ Words: 5.5k

➳ Warning: mentions of food & drinks; vocab related to archery such as the usage of the words 'shooting' 'aim' and 'target'; my knowledge regarding archery comes from watching the Olympics, online research and this archery glossary, so feel free to correct me if I'm wrong! Jay is big time jealous in the first scene and big time in denial in the third one, so excuse him, he's just hiding his big heart!

➳ A/N: This story was heavily inspired by the Olympics, ISAC, 'Brought the heat back' aka the perfect jealousy song and this short on Youtube.

It's also a spin-off to 'how to cross the line?' with Jake and 'red light, green light' with Sunghoon which both take place before this one, but this story can absolutely be read on its own. ❤️

Apparently, Jay didn’t think through what kind of consequences the fake dating would bring about, and how he would react to them. To be precise, to boys around you.

But it did save him time, money, and let’s be honest, mental energy to not spend so much of his time going on blind dates his mother used to send him off to. Even though he would have plenty of time to meet girls at university, most of them only talked to him because he was 1) a rugby player for the college team 2) he had a lot of money and 3) he was handsome. He wanted more than that, but he didn’t seem to have too much luck, and it didn’t help that both of his university friends - Jake and Sunghoon - already had girlfriends, so whenever they spent time together, he felt like he was fifth wheeling.

So really, it was a sensible deal between you and him, even more so because you were a professional archer, training for the Olympics, so you had even less time to focus on dating than he did. So realising that both of you were fed up with the unfruitful blind dates you had to attend when you two had been set up, you had struck a deal. You would pretend to date for the sake of your families and yourselves, but if either of you found someone they actually liked in the meantime, you would call it off. Otherwise, you could take advantage of the other as a plus one at events, further minimising the chances of shallow-minded boys or girls coming up to you two in hopes of seducing you.

However, sitting through the opening ceremony of a music hall that Jay’s parents built where most people knew who you were wasn’t the same as accompanying you to your birthday party where all kinds of boys showed up he hadn’t seen before. Even the sight of them around you angered him, but the way they mistook him for someone else was truly dancing on his nerves.

At first, there was this tall, broad-shouldered boy who seemed younger than him, but multiple heads turned his way when he walked by, probably because of his handsome looks. Though Jay would never think of growing his hair long, he had to admit that he had a majestic feel to him because of his shoulder-length chestnut brown locks.

“Oh, noona!” The boy hollered when he caught sight of you, and Jay immediately stiffened beside you, but didn’t move when the other boy halted in front of you. As if he didn’t even see Jay, he boasted a wide grin as he handed you a gift box. “Happy birthday!”

“Thank you so much, Leehan! I’m glad you could make it,” you reciprocated his wide smile, visibly comfortable even with the close proximity of the boy. Or maybe it seemed close only because Jay was also by your side.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Though we had a bit of an emergency because Jaehyun managed to spill coffee on my suit, but alas, I look dazzling in any suit,” he blabbered joyfully, and only after you asked a few more questions about his day and silence settled on you three, did the boy turn his head towards Jay.

“Oh, you didn’t tell me that you had a bodyguard,” he noted with curiously widening eyes, and Jay’s eyebrows immediately shot up.

“Pardon?”

“Who are you then if not her bodyguard? You look so serious,” he pointed out, shrugging his shoulders casually. Jay felt like he could combust from both the embarrassment and the fury he felt, but held himself back because he was better than that. Besides, he might have stood too stiff beside you, but every approaching boy was a target in his eyes.

“Oh yeah, Leehan, I didn’t tell you. He’s my boyfriend, Jay. Jay Park.”

Leehan let out a little giggle before mentioning that it was funny that he had the same name as the singer. It wasn’t the first time he heard it, but it didn’t seem to get old no matter how much he hated it. It was just a name after all. It was like joking to every Kitty about Hello Kitty.

“Leehan and I used to be neighbours when I was living in Busan,” you explained as you turned towards him, and despite the fact that he didn’t even know you used to live in Busan, he appreciated the fact that you shared it with him. The explanation soothed his nerves a bit, but he was relieved only when Leehan left to say hello to your parents.

It was crazy, he was crazy, Jay thought to himself. He wasn’t usually like this. In fact, he was never like this. You weren’t even his real girlfriend, yet he was acting like a real jealous boyfriend. Did he even have the right to act this way? After all, Leehan was right. He was standing there beside you like a stuck up person, waiting to judge the next person that came up to you.

You took note of his behaviour as well, and asked if he was alright.

“Why wouldn’t I be fine?” Jay sulked like a little kid, hoping that the tone of voice was as close to neutral as possible, but judged by the way you let out a resigned sigh, he had a feeling that he wasn’t very convincing.

“I’m sorry that I dragged you into this. Maybe it was a bit too soon to have you here today,” you mused out loud, biting on your lower lip as you looked around, at the hustle-bustle of the guests. He knew exactly what you meant by ‘too soon’; a month into your fake dating deal, but it was what he had signed up for, so it wasn’t your fault, and he didn’t get why you felt this way.

“I’m fine, really. I just hardly know anyone, and it seems that people think I’m either your brother or your bodyguard, not your boyfriend.”

Your lips curled upwards when he mentioned this, referring both to Leehan’s bravado and Mark’s who was a childhood friend of yours, but went to the States to study, and totally forgot how your brother looked, and mistook Jay for your brother, Heeseung. In Mark’s defence, he supposedly had not only horrible eyesight but a poor face memory, too.

Coming to think of it, these were pretty amusing conversations, but Jay didn’t feel like laughing even though the bell-like sound of your laughter did awaken something inside of him. He didn’t have a lot of time to ponder what this unfamiliar feeling was though because the next guest came up to you, and you immediately welcomed him with a tight hug.

A hug.

From a boy he didn’t know.

What on Earth was going on? Why did you know so many people? Why did you know so many boys? He met like six of your acquaintances who were boys, and there was only one girl. Just why?

“... and this is Jay,” he faintly heard your voice, and when you called his name, he perked up, looking at you. He was so lost in thought that he barely registered that you and the jet-black haired boy had already started talking. He seemed kind with his big brown eyes and lips that curled naturally into a genuine smile, and even his tone was friendly when he spoke up.

“Your boyfriend, Jay, right?” He asked in a casual, conversational way as he reached his hand out for a handshake.

Now, this boy… he was a keeper. Jay liked him.

“Yes, that’s me,” Jay greeted him with a relieved sigh and shook his hand. He had a firm grip, but his kind smile wouldn’t have made him think so.

“My name is Sung Hanbin. We are archery partners with Y/N,” he explained after he let go of his hand, and now Jay didn’t know what to say. Seeing his confused face, you rushed to explain that you and Hanbin were training together as a mixed team for the Olympics.

“I thought that only same sex teams were competing.”

“There are actually 3 different archery categories. Individual, team and mixed team. We’re in the mixed team with Hanbin. It’s only us two, it’s not like fencing when there could be 4 people in a team,” you answered him in detail, and you were patient with him even though he had no idea about archery as a sport, let alone how the Olympics worked. On the other hand, he would definitely look things up after this because he didn’t want to embarrass himself like he did so.

Not like Hanbin seemed bothered by his lack of knowledge regarding the field. Instead, he asked about his side, and was super eager to learn about all the business things Jay studied at university. He was even more curious when he got to know that Jay did rugby, and asked him to show him some moves one day, he would be looking forward to it.

“You should also come to one of our practices. Y/N is seriously so amazing on the field,” Hanbin suggested, awe lacing his words. There was something in the way he said it, but he wouldn’t think that it was because Hanbin harboured feelings for you. It seemed more like respect than infatuation.

“Ah please, I’m just…”

“I’ll make sure to come by. If you don’t mind,” Jay made up his mind about it quickly, and searched for your eyes. This was the first time you wouldn’t bring the other as a plus one to an event, you would do it simply because you wanted to. It could be seen that you were taken aback by the suggestion, but you composed your features within mere seconds, and directed a smile at him.

“Sure. I’d love that.”

There was a moment when you just gazed at each other, and he forgot about everything else around you. He simply focused on the way the shiny peach-coloured lipstick sat on your lips as they curled into a smile, and the way the lights from the grand chandelier above reflected in your ocean deep eyes. The way the foundation couldn’t hide your beautiful moles, and the way you radiated confidence and chicness in your feminine pink and white body suit.

“Okay, I’ll leave you two lovebirds to have some time to yourself. I might check out the drinks instead,” Hanbin announced, pulling you two back to reality. A hue of pink crept onto your cheeks at the reminder that you were not alone, but your smile didn’t waver as you bid your archery partner goodbye.

“I’ve also brought you a gift, but I left at the table where I saw people leaving them,” Jay announced when he looked down at the gift boxes in your hand. You thanked him, and told him that you would definitely check it out and let him know what you thought about his gift.

Not like you had a lot of time to open gifts because your birthday party was more than packed with conversations with familiar and not so familiar figures, and by the end of the night, Jay had no idea how you still had the energy to greet everyone as energetically as in the beginning. Thankfully, there were no more people who assumed that he was your brother or bodyguard, but some found it surprising to see you as a couple. Like the ever so talkative Keeho who analysed the future of your relationship based on your music taste, MBTI and star sign (whatever he meant by that), or one of your mother’s friend’s daughters - Giselle - who was convinced that Jay was Hanbin because she thought that you were dating your archery partner because that would be so YA book-like.

Nevertheless, Jay truly hoped that after this night, everyone would know that you two were dating, so he wouldn’t have to go through this again. He wasn’t sure he could take that.

You didn’t know what got into Jay when he gave in to Hanbin’s suggestion because he was usually reserved when it came to such events. You would think that he didn’t want to bother with it since he hated blind dates just as much as you did, and you weren’t even dating for real, so it could have been just another nuisance in his eyes.

Nevertheless, he didn’t go back on his word, but asked when he could come by, and so you settled on a date. He made sure to ask if you were comfortable by the idea of him coming to your practice, but you reassured him that you were totally fine with it. Even though you didn’t interact that much in person, you rather texted the other, your impression of him was quite positive. He was a just person, someone who wasn’t afraid to speak his mind, but he was also very attentive, noticing when the screw of your earring let go and fixing it for you at the business event you had attended, or how he had gone around to find a blanket for you when you had been sitting outside in the garden at your birthday party. Even his gift was thoughtful: he bought an Avalon archery bag for you which was a good quality bag for professional athletes. You were in need of a new one anyway, so you brought it with you to practise ever since, something that Hanbin couldn’t not notice.

Ever since the two boys had met at your birthday party, Hanbin had been asking about how you had met and whether it was difficult to keep up a relationship with your training schedule and Jay’s university classes. To be honest, you didn’t decide on such details with Jay, so you spoke the truth, and told him that you had met on a blind date, and you had made it work through texts and calls because you wanted to. Which was actually true because you and Jay were getting to know each other, and sometimes it felt like it wasn’t just for the sake of the fake dating deal, but because you really did want to know more about the other. At least, you wanted to know more about him.

The indoor archery range had a security system in place, so only the athletes and the staff could enter who had a card to use the building, so you went out to let Jay inside when he texted you that he arrived. You inquired if he found it easy to get here, and he said that it was fine, and he found a decent parking place not far, so it was alright. Because of course, he knew how to drive and he had his own car. Jay was every girl’s dream after all, no wonder that title followed him around like second skin.

“So it’s just you practising today, or will there be others?”

“We’ve booked a range for us, so it’ll be me, Hanbin and our two coaches. I let the coaches know that we would have a visitor, but it’s alright. A lot of archers visit each other’s practice to learn about techniques, so you won’t stand out too much. Or maybe just a bit,” you pointed at his sleek black cotton pants, dress shoes and white shirt that he tucked into his pants, highlighting his slender waist.

Jay seemed a tad bit coy at your playful call-out, his lips slightly puckering as he looked down at his - probably usual - attire, but he went back to his usual self immediately.

“I hope I won’t be too distracting,” he mentioned with an unbothered look, but you couldn’t help but nudge him in the side.

“What was that? Were you flirting with me?”

“I-” He was about to protest, probably not thinking too much into his words, but then, it dawned on him why you teased him. “I’m your boyfriend after all, aren’t I?” He shrugged nonchalantly, but you could see a hint of amusement prompting his lips to curl upwards.

No matter how many times you said the words ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’ out loud, it still seemed unfamiliar. Yet, there was a certain thrill to it too, something that you had never experienced before. Not since you had broken up with your boyfriend of three months in high school, at least.

After pulling yourself together, you guided Jay to the right room, and told him that he could sit in the spectators’ stand, you also put your bag there. So he took a seat in the front row beside your bag after greeting the ones who were present. Hanbin gave you a knowing look before he turned towards his coach who gave him some instructions. After warming up, you attached the quiver to your waist, and you held up the bow, testing the limbs and the hand. That’s when you realised that you had left a part of it in your bag, so you jogged up to the slightly confused Jay.

“Could you pass me the kisser from my bag?”

“The what?” The boy’s eyebrows shot up so high, you were afraid that his eyes would pop. That’s when you realised that you had used the jargon that he wasn’t familiar with.

“It’s this little black button in the right pocket of my bag,” you explained to him while you leaned onto the rail separating you two. Jay’s shoulders sagged in relief, and you found it difficult to hold back your laughter seeing his bewildered expression. Well yeah, the button was called kisser because it was attached to the bowstring, and your lips usually touched this part when aiming, to give consistent vertical reference. But he must have thought of something else.

Either way, Jay found the button, and handed it to you which you accepted with a grateful smile. Your fingers lightly grazed his hand in the meantime, and you felt heat rushing to your cheeks. No matter how many accidental touches you shared, it was still unfamiliar to you, the effect he had on you.

“Are you sure you will be able to concentrate with him here?” Hanbin teased once you jogged back to him, and you gave him a long stare.

“It’s not like it wasn’t your idea to invite him here.”

“Well, let’s just say I knew what I was doing,” he shrugged, a teasing little grin stretching on his lips. You nudged his shoulder in return and told him to focus on hitting the gold target face.

Despite Hanbin’s warning, the practice went well. What’s more, it went exceptionally well. You both scored high, and even if you didn’t perform that well in a set, you made up for it in the next one. One thing about mixed archery that you liked was that you could cheer on your partner without fearing for your own ranking, and it was easy to shoot beside Hanbin because he was very supportive, and even if he took archery seriously, he knew when to be silly to ease the tension. He was determined and hard-working just like you, and your coaches often said that you seemed like you were made to be each other’s partners.

Once your coaches left and it was nearing the end of your time slot, Hanbin inquired from Jay if he wanted to try it out himself. He objected vehemently, saying that after your practice, he didn’t want to embarrass himself. You didn’t force him either, but thanked him for coming by.

“I will give you a lift,” he offered gently when you walked up to him to get your bag.

“You really don’t have to. It might take about half an hour before I will get ready.”

“It’s alright. I don’t have other plans,” he protested firmly, and you didn’t have the heart to go against him when he offered it himself. He really wouldn’t say it out loud, but you had a feeling that he was offering to give you a ride because it was getting dark outside, and he didn’t want you to go home alone.

“Thanks. I will be quick,” you promised beamingly, and off you went.

After taking a quick shower, getting changed and putting your hair up into a high ponytail, you were fresh and clean, ready to head out. Jay was standing on the other side of the security gate, leaning against the wall while scrolling through his phone. You had a feeling someone let him out - maybe the security guard or Hanbin because he always finished earlier than you -, but still, it was nice to see him standing there even though he really did stand out in his business outfit while you had sweatpants and a knitted sweater on.

Jay’s nonchalant expression turned lighter when he caught sight of you, and he immediately reached for your bag, holding it for you without saying a word. Your face flushed when your hands touched again, but you looked the other way to hide your embarrassment.

You let silence fall over the two of you as you were walking towards his car, and when you stepped inside the vehicle, you felt like you were the one who stood out in your casual, sporty outfit. Alas, you preferred comfort over style when you were off to practise or coming from practise, and you were thankful that you didn’t need to wear high heels or dresses during these times. Plus, it’s not like Jay made a comment on it, instead, he inquired if the temperature was alright in the car, and if you preferred to have the radio on or not.

“So how did you like the practice? I hope it wasn’t too boring,” you inquired when the boy started the engine and drove out from the parking lot.

“It wasn’t boring at all. I didn’t know the distance for archery is 70 metres, so I was impressed that you could control the arrow from such a distance.”

“How did you know it was 70 metres?”

Jay’s Adam’s apple bobbed hearing your question as if he didn’t want to acknowledge that he clearly made his research. You definitely didn’t tell him about that.

“Well, I read it somewhere before,” he mumbled under his nose, but you couldn’t help this warm, embracing feeling bubbling up inside of you. He might have looked cold and composed, but you seemed to shake up his demeanour lately.

You talked a bit more about archery during the car ride because he was curious about the type of arrows you used, how you controlled the draw length and the aim, and whether you enjoyed individual, team or mixed archery the most. You found it heart-warming that he asked you about this because archery meant so much to you, but when you went to high society events with your parents, oftentimes the people there only asked about whether you had a boyfriend and when you would join your father’s company. Your parents never forced you to choose a different path, but these kinds of interactions came with the type of life they had chosen for themselves when you moved from Busan to Seoul, and your father set up his company that has since become one of the most important AI consulting companies in not just Seoul but the whole country.

Time passed by in a blink of an eye while you were talking, and you found yourself at home in no time. Yet, as his car drove out of your driveway, you realised that you wouldn’t mind if he gave you a ride back home more often.

Bit by bit, you and Jay got closer, and there was no denying it anymore. He went to your practices a few more times, you showed up at business events beside him other times, and in the meantime, you continued texting and calling each other. Jay also made it a habit to pick you up after practice when he didn’t have anything else to do, and sometimes Hanbin joined you, too. Jay liked him because he could see that he was a genuine, kind guy who would want nothing bad for you, and your archery partner also gave him his phone number, so Jay could reach out to him in case you didn’t pick up your phone or anything like that. Which was really attentive of him, and despite not saying it out loud, Jay grew fond of the other boy, too.

Alas, his fondness towards you could not be contained that easily, and it didn’t take long for his friends to pick up on his antics. Jake and Sunghoon teased him ever since Jay admitted that he “wasn’t feeling neutral towards you” which, in his dictionary, meant that he liked you, and they kept bombarding him with dating advice. He would never force you to date him though, and you had enough on your plate with the Olympics coming up, so he didn’t want to complicate things even further.

However, it didn’t mean that he couldn’t be supportive of you and your dreams.

“So… are you going to the Olympics with Y/N?” Jake inquired once when they were having lunch together between classes. Jay almost choked on his food, he was so surprised.

“Why would I go with her to the Olympics? She didn’t tell me that she wants me there,” he furrowed his eyebrows, looking at his puppy-like friend. Jake and Sunghoon shared a glance, and there was a knowing smile in the corner of Sunghoon’s lips when he spoke up.

“Jay, my dear friend, you really don’t know a thing about relationships, do you?”

“It’s not like you have that much experience,” Jay snorted, pointing out the fact that he and Chaerin had only been dating for half a year. To be precise, dating officially because they also had their fake dating period when Sunghoon had tried to keep Chaerin’s douchebag ex away by pretending to be her boyfriend. But he had already had a crush on the cheerleader, so his feelings had been genuine when they had started fake dating.

“Well, it’s still more than your experience which is close to zero,” he shrugged and reached for his bottle of water. Jake found the conversation amusing as he kept smiling while shoving kimchi fried rice into his mouth.

“Well then, enlighten me. Why should I go?” Jay gave up on trying to argue with them because as much as he wanted to deny it, the thought had crossed his mind that maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be too bad if he went to the Olympics to watch your competitions. Then again, you had never asked if he wanted to come or if he was willing to come, so he didn’t bother asking either.

“To support her. I’m pretty sure she’s all nerves, especially because she had a bronze medal in the last Olympics, so she must be feeling a lot of pressure. Not to mention that she and Hanbin are said to be the most promising duo for the team archery.”

“It’s mixed archery,” Jay corrected Jake’s choice of words, and his two friends immediately shared a glance. Oh well, he had really become a bit of an expert in archery, but could they blame him? He was trying not to be too nosy during practices, so he did his own research and watched your previous matches to gain more knowledge regarding your field.

Jay didn’t need to ask how they knew about your rankings because they pulled up your Wikipedia page the moment he told them that you were his fake girlfriend, and besides, he might have been dropping hints here and there. However, he had to give it to them that they were right, and despite the fact that you wouldn’t want to show it, he could see the dark circles under your eyes, and you had even managed to fall asleep once while he had been driving you home after practice. You seemed to lose a bit of your smile too, and he hated that he couldn’t do anything about it, except trying to be extra comforting and supportive.

He didn’t even need to be told twice. After asking Hanbin about your Olympics schedule, he booked himself a hotel and a plane ticket, and arrived the day before your first official match. He didn’t want you to worry about his safety while you were supposed to focus on your performance, so he only told you that he arrived when he got the green light from Hanbin that you finished with your last practice before your first day of competing.

Locks still stuck to your forehead when you rushed out of the stadium after a shower and changing clothes, and you hugged him so tightly upon seeing him that he immediately knew that coming here was the best decision that he had ever made.

“Thank you so much for coming! I can’t believe that you’re here,” you exclaimed giddily, and despite the fact that it was your first hug, somehow it felt so good, so right. You didn’t even seem embarrassed as you kept babbling afterwards about literally everything: the food in the Olympic village, how your room looked and how practise went that day.

He listened to you attentively, his heart a lot lighter that he could see you smile, and because you must have been hungry and tired, he treated you to a meal. You didn’t even want to talk him out of it, and enjoyed dinner with him to the last moment. He didn’t even want to let you go so soon, so he offered to walk you back to your accommodation.

“This morning, I was so nervous that I thought I’m coming down with something. I was also not performing as well during practice as I wanted to, but I feel like I’m a lot lighter now that you’re here. The fact that you carved time out of your day to come here willingly means so much to me,” you admitted coyly as he was walking beside you. He couldn’t go with you all the way because outsiders weren’t allowed in the Olympic village, but you still had some time as it was on the other side of the park you were currently strolling in.

“Even just the fact that you are here means that you’re doing great. I know you might feel the pressure to do better than four years ago, but know that you’re already a winner. You’re already one of the most excellent archers in the whole world,” he mused out loud, and if it wouldn’t have been for the bright lights in your deep dark eyes, he might have wanted to dig a hole for himself because that was quite cheesy. It came from his heart though, and you seemed to appreciate it so much that you were visibly touched.

“Don’t cry…” he shushed you when he noticed you tearing up, and reached out to wipe the first teardrop away that was racing down your cheeks. You looked up at him with those beautiful eyes, and he felt like time stopped around you as you two were standing still in the middle of the walking path, surrounded by the shushing of the trees and the watching eyes of the street lamps. To him, you looked vulnerable yet strong, someone who wasn’t afraid to face her feelings and though the sight of you with tears in your eyes churned his heart, he was also thankful that he could be there for you.

“I’m just… I’m just so happy that you’re here,” you choked up, hidden away emotions surfacing as you let it out. Jay let you cry as much as you wanted, handing you tissues and letting you hug him as long as you wanted. Before, he might have thought that you would be better off without him because you had a lot on your plate already, but now more than ever, he was sure that you needed him just as much as he needed you.

But he didn’t ask the question until you were finished with all of your competitions, until you were finished with all the celebrations for your gold medal in individual female archery and mixed archery alike and 4th in team archery, and until you were leaving behind the country.

Only as the stewardesses signalled that the plane was ready to depart in Seoul, did he dare to ask the question:

“Would you like to go on a date with me? A real one?”

The smile that you gave him was enough of an answer by itself, but when you confirmed that yes, you would be more than thrilled to go, he was the happiest person on Earth. Even if you managed to confuse Hanbin who was sitting on the other side of the aisle (after giving up his seat for Jay) by what you meant by a real date.

But he didn’t have to know that.

➳ Check out: my ENHYPEN masterlist

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think!

If you want to read more stories of mine, let it be for ENHYPEN or for other artists, consider signing up for my taglist here.

Hope you have a lovely day/night! Take care! ❤️

#enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #jay x reader #enhypen jay x reader #jay x you #enhypen jay x you #jay scenarios #enhypen jay scenarios #jay imagines #enhypen jay imagines #park jongseong x reader #park jongseong x you #park jongseong scenarios #park jongseong imagines

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reallyromealone · 1 year

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WARNING: ANGST, RAPE THEMES, IT GETS DARK, EDDIE IS A BIT OF A DICK, OMEGAVERSE

Eddie Munson x male reader

🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐

Resilient.

That was the best way to describe (name).

Having been through the works in life, he pushed through.

"Goodnight baby" (name) tucked little (sons name) in, the boy content in the queen sized bed and hugged his little teddy bear.

His third birthday was near, something (name) thought about deeply.

He had put aside money for a gift and gathered his god parents, the only ones (name) trusted after all this time.

Opening up his laptop he hesitantly opened his email and typed.

This was the last time he was contacting Eddie Munson.

Not for money, not for anything.

This was the last olive branch he was giving him about their son, having sent countless letters to Wayne's home though he doubts Wayne told him after... the incident.

"Nancy wheeler... you can go to hell" he whispered to himself and sent the email.

"A son... fucking gold digger" Eddie hissed as he glanced at his phone while at a party with his friends, Dustin glancing at him "how dare he... probably not even mine."

"Dear Eddie,

I know you hate me, but I just want you to know, you have a son.

You don't have to meet him, but you should know he exists.

-(Name)"

He read this out loud and the party seethed, the band seethed as Eddie sent an email, not noticing others doing the same, Dustin, Mikey, Garreth and Eddie sending horrible messages.

'gold digger '

'slut'

'shameless whore'

'Come crawling back now that he's worth something? Pathetic'

'why not crawl back to the guy who knocked you up you cheap bitch'

These were things sent to him in multiple emails by people he once considered his pack, the Omega breaking down once his son went with his grandfather Hopp for the day, the cop wanting to take his duckling fishing for the day.

"I-I didn't cheat-- I-I swear!" He gasped out as Steve and Robin held him close, the two knew the truth of what happened and wanted to throttle Eddie Munson for how blind he was.

(Name)... wasn't a cheater.

He was a victim.

(Name) never let anyone get close to him like that since high school ended, his focus on his pup.

That boy was (name)s world, sacrificing everything so he had a good life.

And he would never let another alpha hurt him again.

"And then my ex, you remember (name)? Fucking messages me and like 'this is your kid'" Eddie ranted to his friend, an outcast who also attended Hawkins high "fucking slut cheats then has the Gaul to say that kids mine? Guess the baby daddy ditched him"

"...you didn't hear?"

"Hear what?" Eddie was hesitant as he looked at his friend "(name) didn't cheat..." he said softly "he was raped, there was a whole rape kit and everything, Nancy made lies about him because she thought he was too close to Steve because she didn't know you two were dating" the friend explained and eddie felt his world stop.

"...what?"

No.

What?

Holy shit.

Eddie felt his world stop as he thought about everything.

Oh god...

He... he was so cruel to his boyfriend at such a traumatic moment.

Eddie shot up and left, driving back to his house.

Rushing to his laptop he went back to that email, clicking the photo attached to it and stared. That was his son, he was a spitting image of Eddie with (name)s eyes and skin tone, wild hair and the smile... oh god the smile.

He didn't know what to do.

"He was raped... oh god my mate was raped..."

By who?

Who did that to him?

Oh.

Eddie thought back to that day.

The day he dumped (name).

"Oh my god..."

#stranger things x reader #stranger things x male reader #omega male reader #omegaverse #male reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x male reader #angst #r*pe tw

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wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart · 1 year

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Robin never really got boys talk.

When Sarah turned 14 she invited all the girls in band for a sleepover. It started out fun. After her parents went to bed they put on a creepy horror movie and watched it in a huge cuddle pile. They braided each other's hair and did each other's nails and squeezed each other during tense scenes and muffled their shrieks after a sudden jumpscare.

After that they watched another one. This time Sarah sneaked her mother's makeup kit down to the living room, and so lipstick and eyeshadow joined the mess of nail polish, hair clips and snacks already on the floor.

The second movie was different. In the first one, the blood was obviously fake and the acting wasn't the best (to say the least). But the second one was tense through and through. The cries of pain were so visceral that Robin shuddered, and in the end everyone was terrified. It was silently and unanimously agreed upon that everyone had had enough TV for the night. It was already 3 in the morning, but tomorrow was the weekend and right now Robin wouldn't be able to sleep even if she wanted to, and thus began Robin's first real boys talk.

It was funny at first. Sarah pretended to die of heartbreak when "the blond hot one" was unfortunately the second to die. Heather said the nerdy one with glasses and abs was cuter, which started a very heated discussion of whether blond or brown is the more attractive hair color. Robin had to defend her correct "redheads" opinion all by herself.

(When the others got into a stalemate Sarah turned to Robin. "C'mon", she pleaded, "you know that the blond one was hotter. Just tell us which one you found prettier! And don't forget that this is my birthday party."

Robin laughed at the ribbing, played a bit hard to get, until she finally admitted. "I actually found the first one who died the prettiest." Sarah was already halfway through her victory dance, when Robin corrected her. "No, I don't mean the dude. I mean the first one. The girl with the pink purse."

Everything was silent for a moment.

Then Emma laughed. "You don't have to be jealous Robin", she consoled, "you are also very pretty."

"Yeah, especially after our makeover!"

Robin laughed and agreed and continued on as if her world just hadn't been turned on its axis. Because she knew that the stirring in her gut and the beating of her heart had nothing to do with jealousy. She didn't find the blond one hot or the brunet one cute. That was the first time she really knew it. She liked the girl.)

It was a bit funny the first time, even though she couldn't really join. It got less funny the more it went on. Suddenly boys was the only thing everyone wanted to talk about. And worse: it wasn't just unreachable famous boys like singers or actors anymore. Suddenly it was all "oh, Steve Harrington is sooooo cute" or "oh my god, Tommy Hagan had suuuuuuch a glowup" and "I want to lick the sweat of his body after basketball practice" (this last one was applicable to multiple different people, including Steve and Tommy. It was not applicable for Chrissy when she exited cheerleading practice or Beth after football.)

She thought it would get better when Emma finally confessed to her crush and they actually got together, but no. It somehow got worse. Because "normal boy talk" turned into "experienced boy talk", and Robin wasn't allowed to admit that the only thing that got wet when she thought of Billy Hargrove was her mouth, because he made her want to throw up.

At first she'd say that she didn't have crushes. After a while of people refusing to believe her (even if she was telling the truth! Sometimes.) she started pretending to be into Steve Harrington. Every girl had a crush on Steve, so it made sense that she'd been embarrassed to admit that she was just like everybody else. He was way too far above her league for her friends to force her to "confess" and she could stare without fear when he passed by in the halls with the beautiful Tammy Thompson in his arms. Truly, it was a brilliant plan. It didn't stop the boys talk, though.

So she became a tomboy. She joined football and she hung out with boys and she cut her long hair into a bob. She lost a bit of touch with Emma and Sarah and the others, but she tried not to think about it too much. Instead she threw herself into sports and started hanging out more and more with Matt, the second trumpet in band.

And that was that. Sometimes she missed wearing dresses, but it was a relief not to have her mother insisting she "do something about that hair" anymore. She and Matt became best friends. She even considered telling him for a while. Until he sat her down and confessed his feelings.

She tried to let him down as gently as possible, and they never talked again. The cycle would repeat for multiple times.

Someone out there is laughing their ass off because who would have thought that the dude she pretended to have a crush on would turn out to be the missing half of her soul?

It started out like always. She teased him, he laughed. They suffered through customer service together. He was funny and surprisingly in touch with his emotions and apparently babysat a bunch of middle schoolers, which was equally hilarious and adorable to watch. They both enjoy sports and they both hate Billy Hargrove with a passion and Robin is heartbroken because she knows she can't get attached. She has already been through this too many times to allow it to happen again. She gets close with a guy, they become best friends, he confesses, she can't reciprocate, they never talk again.

This is what is going to happen. She should already be used to it, but it still hurts. It's better for her to keep her distance. To encourage him to flirt with other girls, even if she can see that he mostly does it to amuse her.

And then they uncover an actual real life Russian spy network right beneath their place of work like some fucking blockbuster. And then they are pumped up with drugs and the next thing she knows is that they are both throwing up in a cinema bathroom.

And then it happens. Of course it happens.

He starts his little speech and her heart is already breaking. She surprises herself when she realizes how much she started enjoying Steve's company. He is a dingus, but she is also a dingus and they just fit.

She is already preparing her apology in her head (oh fuck work is going to be so awkward), but what comes out instead is what she wishes she could've said every time this happened. What she wished she could have said every time she got close to another person, every time her parents questioned if she finally found a boyfriend. Something she really tried not to feel ashamed of, but it was so fucking hard when you had to keep it hidden all the time.

(She remembers when she used to train in front of the mirror. She would stare at herself and repeat again and again "I am Robin Buckley and I am a lesbian. I am a lesbian. I am-")

She doesn't breathe as she waits for what she knows what comes next. What has to come next. There is a reason she never told anyone, always kept it hidden and to herself even if she wanted to scream it into the world. He will mock her and he will out her and he will be disgusted and-

"Tammy Thompson?!"

Instead they have girls talk. And Robin finally gets it.

#heteronormativity being like: every strong emotion you feel towards the other gender is romance #+ patriarchy being like: men are entitled to women #= robin suffering #</3 #fun fact i actually never had to invent a crush #like they questioned that i never seemed to be into anybody sometimes #but i always said it so vehemently and also outside of 'boys talk' that they just believed me after a while lol #but i know of multiple ppl who had to #robin stranger things #stranger things #steve harrington #robin buckley #pen.#stranger things drabble #robin buckley drabble #stobin #platonic with a capital p #platonic stobin #does this count as a character study?

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brownsugarwrites · 10 months

Text

Up late.

Pairings: Bodyguard!Kuai Liang x Black!socialite!reader

Warnings: Smut, established relationship ,edging, tears, praise, bratty reader, soft dom kuai but he is a asshole, choking , cursing, cumming inside, squriting ,aftercare. also not alot of dialouge here.

wc: 1.5k

listened to alot of ari lennox while writing this. This was supposed to be done weeks ago but school was beating my ass saur I hope everyone enjoys!! For your listening pleasure.

It was late. Very late. 2:30 in the morning to be exact. You had just come from a night out with your best friends who had come into town for the weekend. Your parents were currently on a business trip so you were under Kuai’s supervision. But, the only problem was you didn't tell Kuai about you leaving and going out.

Was it out of pettiness? Yes. But you were sure he would do nothing about it. The past few weeks he had been letting you slide more than usual. You would yell and curse him out just because he told you no or you would just be defiant knowing you got under his skin with the little things you did.

Locking the door to your G-Wagon your father gifted you for your 21st birthday your heels clacked on the pavement of your driveway as you made your way to the front door. Fumbling in your purse to take out your house keys you sighed in exhaustion. You forgot had thrilling it was to sneak out and go party with your friends all night

Walking into your home you slipped off your heels before hanging your purse on the hook. Flicking on the light in the foyer you jumped seeing your personal bodyguard Kuai Liang sitting on the couch waiting for you to get home.

You were fucked.

“Oh hey, I thought you would be sleeping right now,” you said quite nervously but you tried not to show it

“Where were you?” he asked calmly.

You knew he already knew the answer to that so it was a matter if you were gonna lie to him or not. Knowing you were already in deep shit you decided to be truthful this one time.

“I went out with some friends. Why does it matter?” you asked crossing your arms

“Because last time I checked. You are under my watch correct?” he asked

You nodded your head before opening your mouth but Kuai cut you off

“Yes, you are under my supervision this weekend. So why did you think it was ok to go out without telling me where you were going”

You sat in your thoughts for a moment. Until the light bulb metaphorically appeared over your head.

“I'm grown first of all. All you do is treat me like I'm a child who can't handle themselves,” you said standing your ground before walking away to your bedroom.

Following behind you as you walked away from him he called your name continuously as you ignored his advances, Soon you reached your room and before you could close the door on his face he caught the door before it could close.

“I wasn't done talking to you.” He said voice slightly deeper than usual

“Well, I am-” you began before looking into his eyes seeing the seriousness in them.

Before you could think, he was gently pulling you by your neck to bring your face to his before kissing you harshly. Having to clutch on his shirt to keep you steady you grounded yourself before feeling Kuais hands go to your ass lifting you partially his way of telling you to “jump”

Bringing you closer to the bed your stomach churned in anxiousness mixed with arousal watched as he discarded his shirt on your floor. Watching him climb back over you he didn't say a word as he nearly tore off the dress you were wearing.

Some may say you were spoiled by nature. With your parents owning multiple businesses you never had to want for anything. No was not in your vocabulary or your parents. This made you entitled for lack of better words. You didn't care about how other people felt (sometimes) and how your actions would eventually have a consequence.

That was until Kuai was assigned to you about a year or two ago. When Kuai came you calmed down tremendously. You started to like him and you didn't want to run him away. Therefore you toned down to pursue something further with him, secretly of course (his brothers knew).

Once the two of you started to secretly date your shell started to peel slowly and soon enough you were back to your usual antics.

Peeling off your thin underwear he kissed your thighs a few times before leaving little bites and licking a stripe along your cunt. He quickly replaced his tongue with his fingers. Hitting that particular spongey spot that had your mouth running dry and seeing stars

“Kuai.. I’m bout to cum-” You would pant nearing your release

Soon as those words fell from your pretty mouth he quickly took his fingers out of your aching pussy hearing you whine in need

“Kuai why did you do that?” you asked sitting up on your hands before looking him in his eyes

Staring at you he couldn't help but think you were so beautiful like this. Even though you were near tears because of your denied release. This would set the tone for the night. Saying nothing he climbed on top of your flower bed sheets before pulling you in between his legs with your back against his broad chest. Taking a hand to turn your head to give you a soft kiss you thought that maybe he would let you cum this time around.

You were wrong.

Every time you were near a release he released his fingers from your puffy clit as the tears streamed down your face. Your whines and pleads for him to let you cum were strong as you felt like he had you in this position for hours toying with you while whispering sweet nothings in your ear as you begged for a release. But, you weren't getting off that easy.

“I need you so bad. No more teasing Kuai please baby” you said breathlessy wanting to be satisfied.

“I dont think you’ve learned your lesson princess,” he responded rubbing your thighs to try to calm down a little

“I did! I'm sorry Kuai just please I need you so bad.”

“Promise you won't be mean any more?” he asked smiling

Nodding your head rapidly you whined feeling his fingers rub on your clit once more before lifting you to place you on his lap. Incoherent words fell from your lips as you sunk into him.

“There we go sweetheart, shh I got you,” he said along your neck before bouncing you up and down.

Usually, Kuai kept his composure very well. But when he was inside you his composure slowly faded away. The way you squeezed him and the little noises you would make as he fucked into you kept him going while driving himself crazy at the same time.

He was in love with you. No matter how spoiled you were, he knew the other side of you that most didn't. He was grateful to see both sides of you. His brothers always talk about your behavior and how your attitude could be too much to handle. But he knew how to get you to submit completely to him. It took some time but he knew how to get you there.

Putting you on your back he continued to fuck you into feeling your almond-shaped nails digging into his back as you cried out for him nearing your release.

“Just wait princess, im close hold on a little longer” he grunted continuing to fuck into you

Squeezing your eyes shut you tried to hold on for him but your body was defying what your mind was saying

“Cant hold it anymore baby please.” you whispered trying to open your eyes

Seeing your glossy eyes he groaned seeing how fucked out you were. That was all he needed to cum

“Cmon baby, thats it, i got you” as you released all over him as he pumped his cum into you.

He laid on top of you as the two of you breathed in sync. Feeling warm and soft kisses being placed on your forehead before getting carried to the bathroom.

Running the hot water with your lavender soap he went back to your room to change your sheets and to pull out your sleepwear for the night. Coming into the bathroom quietly he tied your headscarf around your braids before putting on your bonnet. Once the water was done running he set you in the tub gently before getting behind you.

“Thank you.” you said softly sinking into the hot water

Helping wash each other off some kisses were shared in between with light giggles from the bubble getting on kuais face. Retreating from the bathroom Kuai went to grab some clothes from his overnight bag before coming back to your room to put his clothes on.

Peeling back your comforter the two of you laid down on your soft pillows while staring in each others eyes.

“Are you upset with me Kuai?” you asked softly before playing with his hair.

Before he could answer he took in the way the soft moonlight illuminated your brown skin and created a twinkle in your eyes. You were perfect.

“I could never be upset with you. I just didn't expect you to be gone. Your parents would kill me if I let you get hurt.”

“Im sorry…” you said with shame laced with embarrassment.

“I forgive you, princess. Next time just tell me when you’re going out. Ok?” he said before kissing the inside of your wrist.

Nodding your head you quickly snuggled into him before closing your eyes

“Good night Kuai. I love you.”

#kuai liang smut #kuai liang x reader #kuai liang x black reader #kuai liang x you #kuai liang #mortal kombat x black!reader #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat smut #mortal kombat x black reader #video game x reader #video game smut

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pinazee · 2 months

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I have some random hatchetfield character HC’s (forgive me if any of these are repeats or already mostly canon haha) sorted by musical for ease.

TGWDLM :

-emma kills every house plant she touches but she doesn’t know this because pauls like a savant with plants (plant daddy) and takes care of them without her knowing

-bill and alice used to go to an afternoon tea place every sunday after church. It was their special daddy/daughter activity until alice turned 10. Whenever Alice is feeling down she stops by the shop and grabs a scone. Sometimes she’ll leave one at her dads place before shes taken back to her moms.

-ted was rarely in petes life growing up. By the time pete was old enough to remember him, ted was already moved out. He knew pete looked up to him though, and loved it. He would visit home, tell tales of his conquests (lies), and give pete just the shittest advice on how to pick up chicks (pete was 7).

-charlotte was the badgirl cheerleader in high school. She looked like sandra dee but acted like Rizzo. Thats when she got involved with sam. At her lowest point when she was 26 (having to be saved by the coast guard after a night of partying had her stealing a boat and losing the paddles shortly after, leaving her adrift for several hours) she found the church and changed her ways. This initiated the divide with sam who didn’t like this new version of her.

Black friday:

-toms favorite time of year was the first week of school. The kids were still squirrelly as they adjusted to class periods again, everyone was dressed in their best ready to show off their brace-less teeth or their new haircuts, there was a hum of excitement even as the kids groaned when they got their first piece of homework, and he got to play his favorite “accidentally chopped his thumb off” prank with all the freshman.

-Lindas always had “friends” because of her extravagant birthday parties but there was only ever one that actually knew her. During her 11th birthday, after her father had mocked her pig nose in front of everyone during the cake photo, linda hid in her room, and no one noticed she was gone- except for one boy, who came to see if she was okay. They became close after that. It wasn’t until months later that Linda learned he only came to ask because his mother made him (she was trying to find a way to lindas dad). She was so hurt that she had her dad pay off his parents to transfer him to sycamore.

-the first thing Lex ever bought was a bag of those shitty glow in the dark stars when she was 9 using the money she’d saved by scrounging for cans. She’d wanted them for months after she saw them in a friends house but her mom refused. She kept them up for years, even though they didn’t really glow anymore, because it reminded her that she could get things done on her own.

NPMD:

-steph is a huge gamer. She is frequently the highest scorer in any game she plays but her specialty is shooty games. She’s been known to seek revenge, often killing players she feels has wronged her over and over, hunting them down until the mods have to get involved. (I dont play games like that is that how it works? Lol)

-no one wanted to be the mascot. In fact, the kid who used to be the mascot quit the moment he heard max joined the team. The coach told them they needed one though so max grabbed the first dweeb he saw (richie) and shoved him inside. Richie had no choice but to roll with it, so even though it meant he was a target of maxs more often, it became worth it when people actually started cheering when he showed up. For him, its like cosplaying being popular.

-Ruth writes “friend fiction.” Each chapter is a different scenario on how her and another classmate could become involved. Pete and steph both have multiple chapters. Richie has none (simply because its never crossed her mind.)

-grace was kicked out of debate club because she ended every argument by saying it was gods will

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mysticmunson · 1 year

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turn on that red light: eddie x reader x steve

gigolo!steddie x bestfriend!reader

summary: the indianapolis nightlife has become steve and eddie's career, but they didn't expect you to walk through the bar.

warnings: no minors! smut, brief mention of kidnapping, first time

author's note: hi! it's been awhile since i've been able to post and hopefully i'll have some more time to in the coming weeks :) thank u to @lilacletter and @andvys for being amazing and i love u! i hope you all enjoy :) xx elora. (didn't proof read)

It started off as a simple favor.

Eddie was paranoid about reaching another birthday as a virgin, so Steve became his wingman, heading to the bar with him. The pretty brunette caught his eye, elbowing his friend who sprung into action, both going up to her with charisma and a few shots of whiskey down their throats.

She had been around Hawkins before, coming to the buzzing parties for drinks and a quick romp. Steve recognized her from some parties and she was always friendly, usually switching between conversations and dancing.

Earning her attention, Eddie fumbled some words, but was able to charm her. The issue arose when she grabbed both of their hands, pulling them to a darker corner to kiss Eddie. As Steve went to slip away, she turned to meet his lips, still grabbing onto his friend.

They stumbled into an uninhabited bedroom, covered in a peculiar shade of green that raised their brows. It wasn’t a typical first time by any means, but when the girl left, an idea sprouted.

“Shit, I’d pay for a fuck like that.”

Two days later while Eddie browsed the aisles of Family Video, their cumulative thoughts reached a tipping point when they saw a copy of American Gigolo, a movie neither of them had seen personally, but knew the plot and how scandalous it was considered.

The erotic cover felt strange in the sea of movies beside it in much more pleasant art, but he still found himself looking at the plastic sleeve, reading the back intently.

Steve continued to check in movies, but kept his eye on Eddie, somehow picking up on what his friend must have been thinking. He just wouldn’t be the one to initiate it, abiding by his task at hand before Keith came in for the night shift.

“You think people do shit like this here?” Eddie wondered out loud, not averting his gaze, his friend was the only one in the building.

Although he knew what his friend was referencing, he played clueless, sending a hum as a response. The tape was thrown in front of him onto the counter, Richard Gere standing in the shadows of blinds in a suit.

With the curiosity harvesting, they went out later and later on weekends. After the friends' weekly movie nights, they’d meet up when everyone else retreated, walking around until they found something that piqued their interest.

Illuminated by the neon lights above their heads, they watched the only strip club in Hawkins go from a ghost town to welcoming people from the upper class to the lower class.

Yet, they knew they needed to head back to Indianapolis to dig a little deeper. Not only for more information, but to sustain their anonymity. Living their whole lives in a small town meant they had to be careful and in a big city, they faded into the background.

A few months later, they spent multiple nights a week in the big city, now one of the most sought talents in the clubs. Wandering from club to club, they received a call from the manager of the club, stating someone needed to see them. Sometimes, they were granted a brief description, but others remained a mystery until the door was locked.

The rooms began as motels, working for a hundred or two, but as they became more notorious, the luxury crept up. Large penthouse suites with skyline views, expensive wine that Steve had only had with his parents, and significantly higher pay.

None of their friends had discovered their little secret, keeping the extra cash saved with Eddie putting some towards bills behind Wayne’s back to avoid confrontation. It was only when Robin got a little too nosey in Steve’s room when he went to the bathroom, finding one of the envelopes with the outline of his appointment that night.

Despite using the alias’ in front of customers, it had Steve and Eddie’s names beside their fake ones, Titan and Sneak. Steve thought he would throw up when he walked in on his best friend holding the paper in her hands.

“Robin! What the hell-”

“Steve, what is this, are you and Eddie-”

Steve hushed her quickly, not even saying it out loud when home alone, paranoid of lingering ears. She looked at him with wide eyes, clearly taken aback, not just by the letter, but by Steve’s anxious demeanor.

“Rob, you can’t tell anyone, please.” He huffed, sitting in front of her on the ground as she sat against his bed. She almost laughed at how juvenile he seemed, pouting with worry.

“I won’t, I swear,” She rushed, patting his shoulder awkwardly. With his heart trying to get back to its standard beat, Steve grabbed the paper back, crumpling it in his hands.

That night at Steve’s house, Eddie, Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle, Robin, and you came over to watch a movie. Things went as normal, popcorn and candy with more joking than movie watching.

But the lingering fear you would discover the truth remained. You had grown up in Hawkins and became friends with Eddie in junior high, meeting Steve at summer camp when you were 14. The two boys becoming friends after high school made your small trio form, practically attached at the hip.

There was a mutual protectiveness over you that the boys shared, knowing you were sensitive and had no ill will to anyone. While you weren’t naive, you were fairly innocent and hadn’t experienced as many things as they had.

Watching you walk into the door, smiling and giving both boys a tight hug, the strain in their chest resonated quickly. The warmth of your smile made them melt as you remained in their soft spot, joining the rest of their friends on the couch.

As the credits rolled, everyone, but Eddie and Robin left. She could tell Eddie was antsy, likely hoping she would leave so they could take the hour-long drive. While she knew she wouldn’t tell anyone, that didn’t mean she wasn’t nosey.

“So, how weird are these chicks that pay for sex? Or guys, obviously I don’t judge.” Robin blurted, Eddie choking on his beer with wide eyes while Steve threw his hands up in disbelief.

“Rob!” Steve hissed, running his hands through his hair, cringing at the bluntness that they weren’t used to with that topic.

“Why the fuck did you tell her?” Eddie practically yelled, beginning to pace around the living room anxiously.

After relaying the story, Eddie calmed slightly, knowing it was a pure accident and Robin would likely keep the secret as her closest friend is a central one involved. Her inquiries spewed as soon as both boys relaxed, getting ready for their night out.

Suddenly, Robin went from completely oblivious to their confidant, their ramblings increasing in detail as it went further. An encounter she couldn’t help, but laugh at was an older rich woman who asked them to dress like sailors and dance for her before sex.

“She paid a lot, so I don’t give a shit.” Eddie shrugged, spraying a bit more cologne and tying back his hair, “We’ll fill you more in later, we got to roll.”

—------

You and Robin had been sitting in Starcourt after she secured free ice cream from an old manager from Scoops Ahoy who couldn’t care less about their job. With a scoop of Oreo in your cup and cookie dough in hers, you sat down in a quieter corner of the bustling food court.

“I went to rent a copy of Dirty Dancing and Steve wasn’t working,” You sighed with furrowed brows, “He hasn’t been there the last few times I’ve been and Eddie hasn’t been at the mechanic’s shop either because I had to bring in my mom’s car and they said he’s only working one day a week, but they seemingly have more money than ever!”

The nervous glance she gave you was brief, but seen, making your suspicions rise.

“What do you know?” You glare though not very menacingly, Robin was tempted to crack under pressure, you two had known each other for a few years now. You had never given her a reason not to trust you.

“They got second jobs.” Robin quipped, shoving her mouth with the treat that was melting into soup.

“Oh, really? Where?” You pondered, accepting this, slightly wounded that they didn’t tell you.

The crimson coating Robin’s freckled face puzzled you, her mouth opening to tell a lie, but as you looked into her eyes without an ounce of insincerity, it became more difficult.

To say Robin made waves would be an understatement, she released a whole tsunami. Each new tidbit of information surprised you, that your two closest friends were sex workers. When the conversation ran dry, you went your separate ways and you went straight to your bedroom.

The borderless confines of your mind ran with the thoughts of your friends, thoughts you had kept at bay for years in fear of ruining your dynamic, constantly in a limbo of liking one or the other.

The insecurity of your sexuality had been potent as years went on, feeling yourself missing opportunities you didn’t realize were there. It seemed like some cruel joke that not only were your friends having sex, but they were getting paid to do it.

As you got ready for bed, your inquisitiveness crept upon you as you undressed, running your hands over your bare chest, pretending they were a set of hands that had yet to linger there. The mere thought of them seeing you in that light made you aroused, imagining how they’d be territorial, not wanting anyone else to see your gentle skin.

The adrenaline of lust drove you to your family's copy of the Yellow Pages, looking under Indianapolis and reaching the Adult section meant for clubs. Spotting one of the ones Robin mentioned, Dazzler, you clicked the loud buttons on your phone and held it close to your ear.

A man with a husky voice answered, seemingly not accustomed to calls this late, but you swallowed your pride.

“Do Titan and Sneak work next weekend?”

—-----

The past few days had flown by for Steve and Eddie, beginning their search for an apartment closer to the city and seeing their friends. However, you hadn’t been as present, noting school or work was absorbing most of your time.

As a busy woman, you didn’t always have time during the week, but when Friday rolled around and you were nowhere to be seen, they felt uneasy. You always requested off Friday nights, claiming it was your favorite night of the week and the movie night felt peculiar without you there.

Like clockwork, as Jonathan, Nancy, Robin, and Argyle headed out, the two of them got ready for their shift. With only one ‘appointment’ tonight, they were hoping it was someone older with low stamina, getting them in and out of there before sunrise.

Meanwhile, you paced around the lavish hotel room brought with your ‘package deal’ for the night. Taking a generous sip of the vodka from the alcohol cart, you winced as it stung down your throat, but the warmth coated your skin.

The dress you wore showed more skin than normal, accentuating your collarbones and neck as it scooped downward. The black dress flowed below your bust, accentuating your chest and legs as it stopped towards your upper thigh.

Your instructions were to go to the bar downstairs and meet with them, saying you were Jane Doe, a standard anonymous title until you reached the bedroom. After that, it was up to the customer to continue with or alter the name, you hadn’t thought that far.

The top level of the hotel had beige walls with intricate linework, likely wallpaper, but it looked far more elegant than anywhere you had stayed. The premium package was draining your bank account, but you didn’t want them to have to meet you at a motel, hoping this would prove you were being serious.

Pressing the square elevator button, the silver box slid up quietly, startling you when it opened. Thankfully no one was in there, giving you the time for a silent pep talk, even if there was no ridding of the butterflies swarming within.

Walking into the dimly lit room, your heels clinking against the polished floors were no match for the jazz music playing. The reality of your choice confronted you as you spotted curly hair beside fluffy, the two conversing with the bartender and enjoying a drink.

Part of you considered running away, taking the financial and esteem loss with stride, but your feet listened to the liquid courage cascading in your veins. Sitting on the barstool to their left, leaving one in between, it was now or never.

“I’ll have a martini, please.” You spoke after the bartender introduced herself, nodding as she began your drink.

Their brisk movement was almost audible, heads snapping to you as you looked forward, accepting the glass gratefully and complimenting her quick assembling. Steve said your name, worry and confusion mixed into one as you looked over as if you hadn’t seen them, swallowing harshly.

“Oh hi,” You smiled, bashfulness taking over, wondering how the hell you were going to pull this off, “What are you guys doing here?”

Dumbfounded, the two struggled to vocalize their coverup until Eddie interjected, “Meeting a friend, why are you here?” The other brunette agreed, shaking his head far too enthusiastically.

They couldn’t believe you were here, not just in the context of their work, but caught off guard by you alone. Dressed well and paired with a nice shade of lipstick, they soon had mental backup if their client was bleak.

They felt they could never admit they found you so sexy, feeling too perverted. But here you were sipping a martini with hooded eyes when you rarely drink in the first place.

Ignoring their inquiry, you saw your leeway, “Oh, who?”

Taking another sip of your colorful drink, you observed the way they squirmed, knowing you were likely the first person they knew to see them ‘in the act’. Steve’s eyes were scanning the rest of the bar, likely making sure your presence didn’t detour their client.

“Jane,” Eddie began, “Why are you here? It’s late, you shouldn’t be driving this far with your mom's car.”

He was correct, your mom's car was in Eddie’s shop so much, it should have a membership card. Their concern made you warm, toying with the jewelry hanging from your neck.

“I-” Your breath hitched, taking a deep breath, “I-I’m Jane.”

The surrounding noise went mute within your world, taking a large gulp to finish off the drink. A crinkled $20 bill from Eddie’s pocket hit the counter as he grabbed your arm, leading you towards the elevator.

“What’s the room number?” Steve spoke in a hushed tone, a sense of hostility completely obscure to you.

“628, but-” Remarking with the card in your hands, he grabbed it and hushed you, Eddie not moving his tight hold.

The ride was dangerously silent, the doors opening on the final floor as you went to the large suite. You felt more akin to a young girl in trouble, not a mysterious sexy woman.

With a click, the room unlocked as they flicked on the lights, the tight fingers on your arm releasing as you went in, sitting on the couch with your arms wrapped around yourself.

“What the fuck are you doing? Is this a joke? How did you find out- Was it Robin? I swear-” Eddie began to verbose, pacing back and forth as you shifted on the floral linen cushions.

The stress on Steve’s face showed as he scanned the room, the initial shock subsiding as he took in the indulgent scenery. This was an extravagant hotel, one they had only been to a few times, typically going to 3 or 4 stars.

“How much did you spend on this?” Steve adjourned with crossed arms, the question causing the other man to stop as well, looking at you with hands on his hips.

Even if you were going to tell them, you couldn’t due to the croak threatening to spill instead. Their stern glares made your skin turn to flames, the air becoming harder to push through your lungs.

“It doesn’t matter, this was so fucking stupid, you guys can just go.” You admitted, the tears spilling before you could halt them. Covering your face in your hands, your own cheeks exudes warmth to your palms, the wetness mixing in.

At first glance, they thought you were doing this as some weird joke or humiliation tactic. While extremely out of character, they only thought the worst when it came to people discovering their job.

There had never been a reason for them not to trust you, to worry you would judge them for their choices, but still, their guard was up. However, watching you crumble in front of them made them realize it was genuine, which was a whole other level of emotions.

Rushing to your sides, you tried to elbow them away, clearly humiliated by their responses. They stayed, Eddie’s arm slinking behind you while Steve’s hand rubbed your upper back.

“Sweetheart, you didn’t need to do this.” Eddie assured, but his words felt judgemental, making your body shake with anxieties and cries. Abruptly standing, you stepped forward a few feet, moving your hands to behind your neck.

“It’s humiliating!” You ranted, their faces in slight shock at your bluntness, despite knowing the information, “Please stop trying to spare my feelings and just go, I already paid so it’s fine!”

“Hey!” Steve interjected, moving to walk in front of you with Eddie facing toward your back, “Spare your feelings? We just want you to know you didn’t have to pay for us! Why did you?”

Though his words were direct, he sweetly swiped his thumb beneath your eyes. Finally looking up, you noticed his look was genuine, turning to see Eddie’s was as well. But the panic wasn’t gone, still feeling like this is some cruel joke that they’ll laugh at once you’re gone.

Looking down at the rug beneath your feet that cost more than your tuition, you felt your heart in every limb as you stood stagnant. The door felt too tempting, attempting to bolt to the gold handle that barely reached your fingertips until two tattooed arms wrapped around your waist.

Your feet were now a few inches off the ground, kicking them as you wiggled to no avail, forgetting how strong Eddie could be when he wanted to.

“Please just let me leave with some dignity.” You whined, trying to wedge your fingers between his arm and your own skin.

“You’re not going until we talk.” Eddie stubbornly stated, his hold not faltering as he walked backward, putting more distance between you and the escape route. Steve walked in front of you, feeling slightly trapped by their sturdy bodies.

Steve’s eyes remained on your face, trying to figure out any information, but was left at a loss. He could pick up clues for what the action meant, showing up anonymously, but he couldn’t figure out why you seemed so upset.

When you stopped struggling in his arms, Eddie released you back to the ground. You walked towards the bed, climbing towards the center and sitting with criss crossed legs. With your head in your hands, you felt the bed dip twice in front of you, situating on the corner.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You whispered, “I thought we told each other everything and I’ve known you guys for so long, Robin found out before me!” The hurt was scattered on your face, wiping beneath your nose with the back of your wrist.

The boy's shoulders drooped, shifting to sit fully on the bed, waiting for you to look up. After a few beats, you did with slightly red eyes, the skin inside your cheek slotted between your teeth.

“We didn’t tell anybody,” Steve cautiously stated, “Robin found out by accident because she’s a snoop. We’ve only been doing this for a few months. We trust you so much, doll, but we didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

The pet name was comforting, one that had stuck for the past few years after Steve planned out your outfit for a date, claiming it made him feel like he was dressing a doll. His doll.

“It doesn’t make me uncomfortable, I support you guys through everything.” You mumbled, running the pads of your fingers over your fresh manicure, freshly painted a dark blue similar to a night sky.

“We know, it was just so new for us,” Eddie affirmed, “And you’re so sweet. We look out for you more than everybody else.”

The gentle assurance made you smile, loving the dynamic you had built, but then he continued his thought. “But, uh, not to be frank, what was the point in calling us? Spending all this money just to see us and let us know that you know?”

The question was genuine, but it shrunk you to the size of an ant, hoping they would have understood the subtext initially and could drop this. The salty expression swam over your vision, threatening to overflow as their eyes zeroed in, a hitch in Eddie’s throat making you whimper.

“Please,” Eddie pleaded, “Please don’t tell me you did this to lose your virginity.”

Silence had never felt so heavy as you bent forward on the mattress, hoping the plush cloth would absorb you whole.

“Oh, doll, no.” Steve sighed, hearing his hand brush against his stubble, rubbing his jaw.

Letting your body take control, you sprang up, startling yourself and the boys. The attempt was futile as you didn’t even get two feet away from the bed before Eddie pulled you back. But a surge of anger jolted you back.

“You guys don’t get it!” You exclaimed, “I’m a virgin in my twenties and it’s embarrassing! I mean, fuck, I even tried paying for it and it still won’t work! I just want it to be over with.”

The bluntness of your words still startled them as you had certainly overheard the boys discuss vulgar things, you rarely verbally engaged.

As your rant proceeded, they gave each other a look, knowing their thought process was likely similar. Steve went to speak, but you didn’t cease, with Eddie trying the same to the same response.

With a booming voice, the longer-haired boy shouted your name, just low enough to not alert the neighbors. Stopping your frantic movement, you heard the squeaks of shoes until they stood before you.

“You know how this started?” Eddie proposed, “It was all cause Steve wanted to be a wingman for me so I would lose my virginity, but the girl wanted us both and made a comment that she would pay for a fuck like that.” The admission made his skin warm, feeling so distant from that boy at the bar to now, but still so familiar.

The information widened your eyes, unknowingly making them shine under the illuminant lights. Each boy gave a smile of reassurance, taking an inch forward that it was practically unnoticeable.

“We don’t want you to feel embarrassed, we’re just confused,” Steve emphasized, taking hold of your hand and rubbing your knuckles, “We don’t want you to think you have to pay us to see us.”

“Why didn’t you just ask?” Eddie pondered, “Is it only because it’s a job for us now?”

The head shake was immediate, soothing the man’s nerves as he worried their best friend saw them as mere sex objects.

“No!” You interjected, using your spare hand to grab Eddie’s, “I thought about this before all this-“

The awkwardness was one-sided when you realized what you were saying, the boys raising their brows before smirking, feeling you release their hands as yours began to clam up.

“Oh, so you have the hots for us?” Eddie teased, poking your side that he knew was ticklish, watching as you squirmed in chagrin. His goal was met when you laughed, covering half your face with a palm.

Steve sat on the edge of the bed, patting his thighs before opening his arms. Tentatively, you approached him, holding his shoulders as you straddled his lap.

A hand went to your lower back to keep you steady, another one following suit when Eddie sat beside him. The brown streaks in their eyes were distinct under the harsh lights, looking in wonder at the faint freckles you only saw when they were asleep.

Wordlessly, Steve leaned in, dragging his nose against yours as if he were an animal greeting its mate. There was something so primal about the communication of bodies, universally conceptualized, yet so misconstrued.

Eventually, your lips skimmed against one another, but they didn’t pucker, cheek drifting to press against yours to nuzzle. Inhaling your perfume, he tucked the hair on the opposing side of your face behind your ear before hastily kissing you, catching you slightly off guard.

A different set of lips was soon pressed to yours, not leaving your spot as hands roamed against your anxious frame. It felt simultaneously natural and foreign to engage in this behavior with them, so new, but so instinctive.

“This okay?” Eddie breathed out, pulling away from you and looking into your eyes. Nodding your head with dilated pupils, Steve patted your thigh as a sign to stand, following after you.

Maneuvering behind you, Steve grabbed the zipper perched on your back, glancing at Eddie who remained seated on the cloud-like bed. Your sharp intake of breath was in sync with the zipper becoming undone, standing between the man’s legs.

The black dress revealed your dainty set, a lace pink bra with a lace thong to match. Not too extravagant, but something you had stowed away for two years now, encouragement to get out there. The realization of the state of undress you were in made chills run down your spine, multiplying as both sets of brown eyes danced over them.

The man behind you pressed himself to your rear, hands trailing up and down your waist. The texture difference of the detailed material to your smooth skin was enough to make him hard, grunting as your shoulders relaxed. Eddie’s thumb brushed to the dainty flower at the center of your waistband, his other hand grabbing the plush of your thigh.

“I have a question.” You stated, releasing far more breathless than intended, but their brows raised in curiosity, “I’d like to know how to give a blowjob.”

Your eyes wouldn’t meet theirs, but they met each other, smirking in cheekiness. With your sights on the floor, you saw Eddie’s legs become unbent and soon two pairs of pants were on the ground with coordinating belts. Shirts were disposed of soon after, the other man disappearing from your sight as the bed creaked.

Steve walked you closer to the bed as you kneeled, going to crawl to the center as he gave your bottom two pats of encouragement, causing a whimper.

“Oh, we’re saving that for later.” Steve joked, sitting beside Eddie, who lay against the giant pillows, only he sat upwards.

Covering your face with your hands, stifling the quaint giggle at the absurdity of the scenario until they grabbed your wrists, waiting for you to look upwards.

“Our shy girl,” Eddie teased, “Can’t be all that shy if you’re asking to suck our cocks. Just do what feels right, pretty girl.”

The vulgarity made your mouth hang open, shutting it to smile, shrugging with a nod. Adjusting to lay on your stomach, you propped upon his thigh, breasts smooshed against the tattoo that resided there. His grey boxers were skin-tight, not leaving much to the imagination as he began to chub.

Leaning forward, your nose breezed through the tuft of hair on his lower abdomen, a gentle kiss placed on his upper navel. A series of pecks were set on his waist, cheek occasionally bumping into his manhood, resulting in a pleasurable hiss.

Truthfully, most of Eddie’s sex experience was now work-related, only hooking up with a few girls for free who didn’t dote on him in this way. Not that it was expected, he just didn’t realize he’d like it this much.

The thick band was pushed downward until his hardness sprang free, blushing red as the cool air hit it. Looking at it for a moment, you pressed similar pecks on his length, gradually opening your mouth more to add spit and your tongue.

Sitting back, you fully removed his underwear before resuming position, kissing it a few more times. The boys watched as you pulled away and looked at him, the gears turning on what to do next.

“Take him in your hand,” Steve coaxed, snapping you from the trance, “put some spit on ‘im too, it’ll make it slide easier.”

Pooling some saliva, you released some into your palm and held his warm cock, stroking up and down. He grunted, throwing his head back as you enclosed your mouth around his tip. The smooth skin touched your tongue, tracing over the slit and circling it.

As your mouth and hand found a steady motion, he relaxed in your hold while Steve mumbled the occasional words of encouragement, fixated on the way you handled his friend. He looked at his friend's blissed-out face as his eyes fluttered open, widening for emphasis on your skill.

“Oh, fuck me!” Eddie blurted, startling the man beside him, looking down to see you were still stroking him, yet your mouth had moved down to his balls. They couldn’t fit in completely, but they weighed heavy on your tongue, taking one at a time as slobber went against them.

“Okay, okay,” Eddie panted, tapping your cheek with one finger for you to halt, “Give Steve a shot.”

As great as he was feeling, he knew he was on the road of no return and was determined to last much longer than a three-minute blowjob. He had never come so quick in his life and he didn’t plan to start now.

Eddie sat up as Steve slunk down, removing his own dark green briefs and tossing them to the pile. Your mouth salivated for him, kissing up and down his twitching erection, tongue gliding against his sensitive tip.

“What was that, doll?” Steve asked, feeling your lips mumble against his hardness as you explored it, unaware it even slipped out.

“Oh, you both have pretty cocks.” You whispered, hearing their subtle gasps at your bluntness, but humming in approval. Spitting as politely as you could, you let it dribble to your palm, stroking him as your lips enclosed at the top.

“Thank you,” Eddie smirked, “Try twisting your wrist a bit- Ah, there you go, good girl.”

The wanton cry at his endearment made his mouth open, a grin peeking at the corners of his mouth, while Steve shuddered at the added vibrations.

Noticing your embarrassment, they chose to keep that for later, seeing the glimpse at all of the fun they would have in store. Even without the few tips, they felt this was one of their top blowjobs ever.

“C’mere, doll,” Steve suggested, sitting up as you followed, “get comfortable.”

The three of you switched spots as you sat against the pillows, the boys on their haunches on each side of you. Their eyes ignited your skin, seeing an unfamiliar look in their eyes that you attributed to lust.

“Can we take this off?” Eddie pondered, looking at the lace detailing on the cups covering your breasts. Arching your back, you snuck your hand behind to undo the clasp, but was swiftly swatted away by his hand. He undid it much faster than you had anticipated, bringing it off your arms to join the pile.

The cool air made your nipples begin to firm, coincided with the gentle touch administered by the men with Steve grasping them in his palms. You relaxed further into the pillows, head going back as you bit your lip, but he kissed you soon after.

It meant to not hold back, to not bite your lip, or repress your emotions. It was likely subconscious, knowing he just wanted to hear you and kiss you at that moment.

Eddie’s rings grasped at your hips, pulling the thin cotton down, stifling a chuckle. Steve looked at his friend who showed the wetness pooling in your panties and glistening on your cunt.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie trailed off, smiling with adoration at how demure you seemed, lowering himself between your legs, “gonna taste your pussy, is that okay?”

Your brief look of conflict made them nervous, Steve leaning beside you, pushing away the hairs near your face.

“You don’t have to, Eddie.” You confessed, picking at your nail that flaked off a thin layer at the tip.

“I would like to, but we want you comfortable.” Eddie explained, sitting up, not an ounce of judgment eminent on his features.

Glancing over at Steve, you saw the same genuine look, one that almost made you clench your thighs.

“How about we try something else and if you decide you’d like to try it, we can do it?” Steve offered, rubbing your hair as you nodded.

The thought of their faces between your legs was enticing, something you had selfishly dreamed about, but now that the situation presented itself, you felt a little too vulnerable. It was something you wanted eventually, but not tonight.

“Can we put our fingers down here?” Eddie mused, leaning on his elbow on your right, parallel to Steve.

After your confirmation, you felt a gentle pressure on your bundle of nerves, legs widening. Eddie smiled against your ear, nibbling against your cartilage that made you whimper.

Steve shuffled lower, mouth latching onto your nipple, hand going towards your dripping hole. A finger prodded, long enough to find the spongy area swiftly, your back arching sharply as you moaned.

“Easy, tiger,” Steve smiled, lifting his head to its original propped station, and pushing your hip back onto the mattress. Eddie’s fingers filled you soon after, his lips meeting yours, entering your mouth smoothly.

The sound of rattling, pulled you two apart, seeing Steve grab his bag that was on the bedside table. Yanking out a line of gold-foiled condoms, he ripped off two, handing one to his friend. He grabbed a bottle of lube, placed it on the counter, and dropped the bag to the floor.

You watched attentively as they rolled the plastic on, a minuscule part of you wishing they’d come inside of you. The lingering thought that this was work crept in, but you pushed it away, too aroused to contemplate.

Eddie hovered over top of you, noses squishing as your lips engulfed one another’s, moving to kiss your cheek and jawline.

“Tell us if it gets to be too much, doll.” Steve instructed, watching as Eddie lined himself up at your entrance.

His tip entered you covered in your own slick, gasping at how he stretched you. He got on his knees, lifting your hips from the bed as he began to descend you onto his cock.

Your choked cry was suppressed until he reached halfway, Steve immediately coming to your side. His hand grasped your chest, distracting you from the ache in your core.

“You’re doing so good, doll,” He praised, kissing your temple, “It’s going to feel so good soon, I promise.”

It seemed foolish, but you would’ve believed anything either one of them would say to you. Having them inside you made your brain grow fuzzy, trusting them as your mind floated off and your body sacrificed control.

Steve’s spare hand cupped your cheek as Eddie’s grabbed your hips, rocking his hips back and forth rhythmically.

“There we go,” Eddie praised, smiling down at you as his thumb met your clit as he was fully inside of you.

The tempo increased as your body relinquished its stiffness, forehead pressed to Steve’s with your eyes closed, while he fixated on your sweet face contorted with pleasure and pain. Your mouth hung open in silence until a tearless wail came through, hips flinching in the ring-adorned man’s firm hold.

“Almost all the way down, baby.” Eddie announced, watching as your essence covered almost his entire member, his affectionate name making you throb and his smirk.

Throwing your head back on the pillow, you whimpered at the acceleration in his movements, moving to rest on your elbows to look at the two of them. It was the first time they noticed the genuine lust in your eyes, making Steve harder and Eddie sharply thrust.

A groan exuded from the depths of your chest as Eddie’s cock fit snugly inside you, balls pressing to the curve of your ass. The sounds of pleasure you released were music to their ears, Steve playing with your breasts and occasionally kissing them or your neck. Letting out a breathy moan mixed giggle, they couldn’t stop their own smiles from appearing.

“What’s so funny, pretty girl?” Steve grinned with creased eyes, reaching the dimples on his dewy face.

“Feels so good. Didn’t know it would feel this good.” You sigh in awe of your bodies, how such pleasure existed within yourself at the simplest touch.

Eddie watches your hazy features contort as your back hits the mattress, a warmth that only came when you touched yourself hit your body, only this was far more intense. He lowered himself to be right above you, Steve’s nose pressed against your cheek as his hands continued to assist.

“Open your eyes.” Eddie cooed, noticing how swiftly you obeyed his command, knees pressing against the sides of your thighs.

Before you could prepare, your orgasm blindsided you, grabbing onto Eddie’s shoulders as you writhed. He felt his own finish approaching, stuttering his hips with a gravelly moan that seeped through your incoherent haze.

Steve could barely contain himself when Eddie rolled off of you, pulling away his condom and tossing it in the black with gold detailing trash can nearby.

“Good job, sweetheart,” Eddie heaved, regaining his composure beside you, eyeing his friend who he knew was losing his composure, “You ready for Steve?”

Nodding, you barely looked at the boy before his lips were on yours, cupping your jaw in his palm that traveled to your hip. He pulled away with puffy lips, blown pupils, and messy brown locks.

“Do you want to try a different position, babe?” He mentioned, tucking hair behind your ear as you thought it over.

“We can try on my tummy.” You proposed, already rolling over with Eddie at your other side, kissing the top of your head. Unknowingly, this was one of Steve’s favorites, though he enjoyed classic missionary, and Eddie smirked at his friend’s stunned face.

Manhandling came naturally as he adjusted your hips, bringing them up so you rested on your knees, spreading out for him. Your previous orgasm was beginning to pool toward your center, watching as you clenched briefly, inadvertently pushing more out after.

Groaning, he grabbed your ass cheeks and pulled this apart slightly, wishing he could lick a stripe up your cunt. He heard your bashful whimper, making Eddie chuckle, cupping your jaw, and kissing you.

Steve got on his knees, giving himself a few tugs before sliding the tip between your glistening folds. He slid in much easier than Eddie given the extra lubrication, but the stretch was still foreign to you as he thrusted.

The pleasure arrived quickly, the softer part inside of you being hit just right as Eddie sucked the sweet spot on your neck. Steve grabbed the flush of your bottom, quickly letting go.

“Can I smack your ass?” Steve questioned, feeling slightly silly as most in this position expected a few taps, but knowing your inexperience, he didn’t want to startle you. A quick nod put his mind at ease, his firm hand sounding off your delicate skin with a pathetic cry.

“Oh, that is just too sweet.” Eddie cooed against your ear, snickering as you whimpered, head smushing into the pillows. His hand went down to the throbbing bundle of nerves between your legs, activating another whole level of stimulation as Steve showed you the new position.

With closed eyes, your prominent sense was touch as your body was explored. Ranging from delicate to rough, your mind wandered into the opening abyss, unable to conceptualize what would happen after this.

Currently, your two best friends were splitting you open, tasting and touching you in a way no one ever had. They seemed intrigued, but was this because it was your first time or even because you paid? When the sun began to crawl up north, would they lay at your side or rarely speak to you again?

Typically emotionally sound, the thought of losing either of them overwhelmed you, along with the vulnerability you were placed in. You hadn’t realized your slight wheeze in your moans until Eddie pulled you up by the hair, a concerned look in his shimmering eyes.

What you hadn’t heard were their gentle calls for you, asking if it felt good or if something needed to change. When you barely moved, they felt sick, hoping there was no pain brewing.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asked, seeing your lip pout with a tremble, Steve resting halfway inside of you.

Gulping, you felt 5 inches tall, two sets of eyes on you examining your every breath. You pushed your hips back, only to be stopped by Steve’s grip, giving you a warning look to the back of your head.

“Nothing.” You stuttered, making Eddie scoff and roll his eyes, Steve adding a small pinch on the meat of your hip.

“Somethings wrong, know you too well to play this game,” Steve quipped, “We’re not starting again until you say what’s bothering you. Are you comfortable? Do you want to move positions?”

Like a petulant youth, you grumbled, furrowing your brows. The mix of insecurity, sexual frustration, and the reminiscing euphoria from your climax blended into a troublesome combination.

“Stop, I’m fine!” You sassed, looking down at the creasing sheet, “Just fuck me like you do all your customers and continue on with our nights!”

Not looking up, you didn’t see both of their eyes enlargen, mouths falling open slightly. Thankfully, Steve pieced some things together and knew stopping wouldn’t help this scenario. He figured they could try something else, mouthing for Eddie to follow his lead.

Suddenly you were facing the ceiling with a gasp, Steve’s hand around your neck as he pushed you against his chest, looking up at him through your eyelashes. The light made him look angelic, cheeks flushed red with a golden glow from the chandelier above their heads.

His hips snapped forward as Eddie pressed his chest to your front, a hand finding your nipple and the other to your clit. It seemed vengeful, the way they began to fuck you as if you were a measly plaything.

“This what you want, hm?” Steve gritted, trying his best to ignore your clenching, “Want us to stop really caring about you? Just focus on getting you off and out of the door?”

His palm met your ass again as you cried, the one at your neck moving to sprawl across your chest, keeping you in place. Eddie trapped your cheeks in one of his hands, adding to the riveting lack of control you were experiencing.

“Eds, Stevie.” You gasped quietly, trembling at the enthusiastic pace and intensity of the scenario. The following orgasm was coming closer than intended, hoping you’d prolong it farther to ensure more time between their heated skin.

Eddie patted your cheek warningly, “Nu-uh, our clients don’t call us that.”

Your whine made them satisfied, knowing your wall was tumbling down as you shook your head.

“Don’t want to just be your client.” You murmured, looking at Eddie’s eyes that softened, his hand cupping your cheek before kissing you.

“Yeah,” He smiled, pulling away and wiping the dangling spit, “You’re our girl, right?”

“Yes!” You yelped, their joint attempt to help you finish succeeding as you shook, Steve’s hand moving away from your collarbone and to your other hip.

Eddie catches your convulsing body, mewling into his glistening skin, as Steve groans into your shoulder and fills his condom. Slipping out of you, he fell back onto the bed, chest rising quickly as his eyes shut briefly.

His protection was soon discarded, watching as you lay with resting eyes in between them. The white noise that surrounded you was beginning to diminish, the sounds of their breathing coming to you.

Before your eyes were fully open, you were scooting off the bed, grabbing your clothes from the ground without looking behind you.

“What’re you doing?” Eddie asked, seeing you fumble with the back clasp of your bra, hands still shaking from your orgasm.

Rubbing your thighs, trying to steady yourself before standing, “Don’t they usually leave after?”

Their silence taunted you, biting your lip until a hand reached each of your biceps, pulling you back to the pillows with a shriek. As if it were magic, Steve undid your bra with one hand as Eddie yanked it off.

Soon you were sandwiched in their bodies, adjusting to find comfort in your frame, sighing contently like small kittens once they did. The insecurity fell into the mattress and seeped to the floor, smiling at their affections.

“Psst,” Eddie hushed, poking your side, “Psssttttt!”

Squinting your eyes, you looked at his joyful expression that was soon pressed against your cheek, nose jutting to your temple.

“Yes?” You replied, feeling Steve mimic the position on your left cheek.

“You’re still our best friend.” Eddie whispered, startled by his blatant sincerity until he blew a raspberry on your face.

Squeaking, you flinched away, into Steve’s arms who encapsulated you in a warm hold. Yet, he betrayed you by blowing one on your neck, laughing boisterously as you squirmed.

The ice was broken as you all relaxed, shrugging the blankets up to your chest as the air conditioning tickled your skin. Steve propped up on an elbow while Eddie remained pressed against you on his side, your head below his chin while laying on your back.

“Talk to us next time,” Steve began, hand petting your hair as you looked up at him sheepishly, “You’re getting your money back anyways.”

Before you could argue that you did make them drive all the way here, Eddie butted in, “Yeah, buy us breakfast in the morning and gas- Did you really drive your piece of shit car up here, oh my God.” His teasing transcended into legitimate worry, already envisioning the black smoke coming from the hood.

“I took a taxi.” You shrugged, feeling the end seem on the sheet, seeing Steve’s body tense in your peripherals.

“You what!” He barked, making you hold back a laugh, “You took a taxi all the way- What if you got kidnapped! You’re very kidnappable!”

Scoffing, you looked up at him before back at your hands, pouting.

“I am not! I’m in my bad girl phase anyways.” You jested, making Eddie snort while Steve repeated your scoff. The impending playful tiff between you three was beginning, making you slink under the sheets.

“Hey! No, no.” Steve gaped, going to his back and going under as well with Eddie quickly following.

You all laughed and playfully pushed at each other until Eddie halted, bringing your frame with him. Steve huffed, laying against your tummy, nosing at the small hairs below your belly button.

“You know,” Eddie thought, “We should make a fort out of these sheets.”

“I’m down.”

“He’s my ride so I fuckin’ guess, but I want my boxers on. So should Eddie, but you should definitely leave yours off.”

tagging some mutuals! @lilacletter @munsonology @andvys @queenimmadolla @oneforthemunny @indouloureux @bimbobaggins69 @dearest-readers @corrodedcorpses @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint

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