#turns out we graduated from the same high school

[sommerbueckers]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬¹

___________________________________________________________

PAIGE WAS SITTING patiently in the living room of her hotel as she waited for KK and Ice to get ready. Their plane to New York City had landed last night and they had yet to stock up with snacks for the week. Ice was only going to ensure that Paige and KK bought something other than junk, she knew how slow they'd in practice after living off nothing but Tollhouse cookies and Pepsi for seven days.

"Y'all ready?" the blonde asked, shutting off her phone and slipping it into the pockets of her shorts.

"Been that, jus' waiting for Ice slow ass," KK responded, shooting the taller girl a side eye.

"Okay," Ice chimed in, "I don't wanna go either, everybody else is making me."

"Everybody except the two other people going," KK scrunched her nose up, playfully judging her.

Ice held her hand up in front of KK, moving to grab the keys off of the counter. Paige followed suit as they headed out the door and toward the elevator. She scrolled idly on her phone until a picture of the New York Liberty team popped up, triggering a question in her mind.

"Yo what time does the game start tomorrow?" she furrowed her eyebrows, looking between her two friends.

KK shrugged while Ice pulled out her phone.

"Seven."

"So are we eating before or after? 'Cus everything goin' be closed if we try to go after," KK said.

Snorting, the blonde turned to her, "Is food the only thing you think about?"

KK glared at her, not bothering to respond.

"Not to insert myself, but this grocery trip was literally your idea Paige," Ice said.

"So we was supposed to starve all week?" Paige asked, raising an eyebrow, and when neither of them responded she continued, "That's what I thought."

___________________________________________________________

"--No i'm telling you, we're gonna need more than one family bag of Doritos."

KK stared blankly up at Paige, the single bag of chips being crushed in her grip.

"You don't think this bag will last?" she frowned.

"Dude," Paige said, "there's six of us here, no the bag isn't gonna last KK." Paige took it upon herself to grab a couple more bags off the shelf before tossing them into the cart.

"We need milk, and probably some break-away cookies, breakfast stuff too," Ice mentioned as she looked up from her phone.

"I can get those," Paige offered.

"I certainly wasn't getting 'em," Ice frowned with a laugh.

Paige, mocking the girl's laughter, set off toward the dairy aisle in search of the items Ice had named. She saw the milk first, pausing while she debated on whether to get the full cart or the half cart. They'd be here for a week, and if she got three half cartons then they could distribute them amongst the rooms. A full carton would have to be shared...That would be a lot of back and forth.

As she began to grab the cartons off the shelf, a soft voice called out to her from a few feet away. When she turned, her eyes landed on the one person from high school she hadn't forgotten about after graduation -- that hadn't been on the basketball team of course.

Myla Mintz.

Paige remembered her like it was yesterday; the curve of the dimples in her cheeks, the faint smile lines around her mouth, the deep brown of her doe eyes as she took in her surroundings. It was almost as if no time had passed, and if it hadn't been for her outfit showing off the way her body had developed, Paige would've been convinced that none did.

"Myla," she smiled, surprise written on her face.

"Oh my gosh it's been so long, how are you?" Myla asked, the same amount of surprise plastered across her beautiful face as well.

"I -- I'm great, how're you?"

Myla laughed, it was familiar to Paige, yet so foreign at the same time.

"I'm doing really good," she nodded.

"That's good, yeah. Damn, it's been four years," Paige scoffed in disbelief, taking a step closer to the girl, the milk cartons sitting forgotten in their original place.

Myla mirrored her actions, the pair now close enough that only they could hear their conversation.

"I know right! I mean it definitely doesn't feel like it, feels like yesterday we were just sitting in Physics talking about--" she struggled to find the words, a blush creeping onto her face from the embarrassment of not being able to recall any of their conversations. "Talking about whatever."

"Yeah, yeah," the blonde smiled as she remembered, "man I don't think i've ever been less focused during a class."

"I don't know how we even passed finals."

"Screw finals, midterms!" Paige laughed loudly.

Myla ran a hand through her hair, her usual natural curls had been curled and styled with an iron, now appearing longer as they hung down her back. A few chunks in the front had been cut into curtain bangs, falling perfectly back into place when her hand returned to her side. Paige watched as the shorter girl straightened out her skirt, her gaze falling to the perfect swell of her hips as it curved in to become her stomach. Has her shape always been that perfect?

When Myla looked back up, Paige took note of the smoothness of her lips. It was hard to tell if the pink tint they held was natural or if it was a lipstick, but regardless, Paige had decided that she loved it.

Myla's mascara coated lashes batted up at the blonde, quietly waiting for her response to a question that had completely went over her head.

"Paige?" she called out.

"Yeah?"

"I asked what you were in town for," Myla smiled.

A nervous laugh escaped Paige and she briefly shook her head, "Sorry. I'm here for a week with some of my teammates."

"Oh nice. Is it for basketball or..." her voice trailed off.

"Nah, just pleasure."

Myla nodded again, anxiously biting her lip whilst she slowly built up the courage to ask her real question.

Paige hadn't even noticed her slight hesitation, but then again she had never been that observant. If she was, she would've caught on to the crush that Myla had developed on her during their junior year of high school. A crush that, let anyone other than Myla tell it, never really went away.

"Well y'know i'd love to catch up, if you're not too busy..." Myla finally breathed out, the grip she had on her basket beginning to slip from how sweaty her palms had become.

Paige, excited about the offer, immediately nodded her head, "That sounds great actually, when were you thinkin'?"

"I'm not really sure, I have some things lined up this week. If you give me your number though i'm sure we can work something out."

"Okay."

After the pair exchanged numbers and said their 'goodbyes,' they each went their separate ways. Paige proceeded to grab the things that Ice had requested before making her way back to her friends. It took her a minute to find them, their place having changed from the snack aisle over to the wide selection of alcohol. When they spotted her, KK removed her phone from her ear and Ice dramatically threw her hands up.

"We've been calling you," she said frustratedly.

"Yeah, we thought somebody snatched you," KK said, mimicking a grabbing motion with her arms.

"Relax," Paige laughed, "I was talkin' to somebody."

"A fan?" Ice asked.

"No, somebody I know from high school."

"Hm, well we gotta get back if we wanna make our dinner reservations tonight." Ice took the things from Paige's hands and put them in the car, positioning herself behind it to push. "Let's go."

___________________________________________________________

Paige sat in the living room with her warmed up leftovers sitting in her lap. The movie the girls had been watching had been paused after they learned of Paige's plans to meet with Myla, all of them bombarding her with questions about who she was and how they knew each other. Silently chewing on a few fries, her attention was grasped by Aubrey as the girl threw her another question.

"So you had one class with this girl for one year and now y'all are going out for lunch?"

"Yeah," Paige nodded. She noticed the expressions her friends held, faces of uncertainty and disapproval. "What? We became good friends that year." It hadn't entirely been a lie, Paige and Myla did indeed become friends during their shared time in that class. Only that was all there was. Their entire friendship had been kept between the walls of that freezing Physics classroom, neither one of them even sparing each other a second glance outside of that. Paige could tell you every single thing that Myla had done over the weekend from the months of August to May. But if you asked her where the girl had sat for lunch during those same months, she would've stared at you, stuck.

"Good friends doing what -- cutting open animals and bonding over their intestines?" Kayla joked.

"First off, that's Biology," Paige said, "and second, the way we became friends isn't even weird. Y'all just hatin.'"

"We're not hating Paige," Azzi said, "we're just trying to make sure you're not being lured out to some remote location where none of us can find you."

"No seriously, do you know who you are? I was on Ebay the other day and I found a fake chunk of your hair for sale," Aubrey told her, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Aubrey please," Azzi frowned.

"Im for real! It was in a signed ziplock bag 'n' everything," she continued.

Jana, rolling her eyes, finally chimed in the conversation. "How about we just do a deep dive on this girl and settle this?" she suggested.

Azzi nodded with a smile, pulling out her phone and opening Instagram.

"Good luck with that, she doesn't have social media," Paige said smugly, leaning back in her seat.

"No social media?" KK frowned, sharing a look with Ice, "Oh she definitely a weirdo."

Kayla scoffed, "Tell that to her 3 million followers."

It came as a shock to the girls that Paige hadn't gotten whiplash from how fast she turned her head. Her face contorted in a mixture of confusion and intrigue.

"Lemme see that," she demanded.

Azzi was unresponsive as she scrolled through the girl's Instagram, her eyes widening a little more with every picture she clicked on.

"Azzi," Paige spat out.

Kayla snatched the phone from Azzi's hand, earning a pout from her as she threw the phone over to Paige. Swiftly catching it, her face began to somewhat mimic Azzi's. Her friends crowded around her as they all looked through Myla's account. Pictures of her in revealing bikinis as she posed in the sand or by the pool, reels of her in undergarments parading around with girls who wore similar things, and the rest were her dressed up in fancy outfits at various premieres.

Who the fuck is this and what did she do with the real Myla Mintz?

The Myla that Paige remembered hadn't even had a social media platform, and now here she was with 3 million followers on Instagram. High school Myla hated going to the pool because the thought of being in a swimsuit in front of a bunch of strangers freaked her out. She hated her stretch marks, she hated how her thighs rubbed together when she walked, how she constantly felt the need to keep her arms away from her body because otherwise it 'made her feel fat.'

Paige had never understood Myla's desire to keep her body hidden, if she had been blessed with a body like that in high school she would've walked around showing it off. But Myla wanted to hide it. Now, looking at the new image that the Mintz girl had created for herself, it was obvious to Paige that a lot about her had changed.

"She's a model," Jana said, pointing out the tagged page in her bio, "IMG models."

"Damn, she a real model. None of that fake ig shit," Aubrey spoke, her voice slightly airy from seeing the photos.

"You sure you went to school with her, Paige?" Kayla joked, using her pointer finger to tap the blonde.

Paige couldn't answer, she could hardly even hear the question as her focus remained solely on the picture that was displayed on her screen. It was a casually taken photo of Myla on the beach. Her curls were completely soaked, fingers scrunching them at the top of her head. Her red bikini top had a zipper in the middle, one that was partially unzipped to reveal her cleavage. The matching bottoms that did very little to cover what she had clung tightly to her perfect skin.

She was smiling happily with her eyes closed, pearly teeth on full show. Everything about the picture was perfect, from the rawness of her smile to the carefreeness of her energy. Paige couldn't think of a single thing in the world that could've made the post better, that was until she read the caption typed below. It made her eyebrows raise, her lips part, her heart stop for a period of time that would concern medical specialist.

'Happy Pride from your fav;)'

___________________________________________________________

A/N: so obviously this is in third person and i didn't really like that so im planning to change it going forward

BUT NEW SERIESSSSS, im hype soooo i hope yall are too

[melanieph321]

Kenan Yilidiz x Reader - Thick Part 1/8

You're gonna love this story!!!! I have my anons to thank, who's requests have enabled me to cook up this amazing fic for you all!

Summary - Kenan and Reader share the same high school friend group. As graduation is near, Reader sets out to pass her drivers license test, but ultimately struggles to. Thankfully Readers friends agree to help her with driving lessons and take turns doing so. It is during one of Rader's lessons that it becomes clear that Kenan likes her. A shock to Reader, who has a crush on someone else in their friend group.

Enjoy!

Six months until your high school graduation and you still hadn't managed to pass your driver's license test.

You were still motivated after the first failed attempts, but having failed four times after that had you questioning your level of intelligence as a human being. Were you really that thick?

"Thick?" Your friend Gio grinned. "Sure Y/N, you're the thickest girl I know. I'm mean look at the size of you're...."

A collective sigh spread around the lunch table, your friends throwing annoyed glances at Giovanni.

"What?" He shrugged.

"She doesn't mean thick as in big." Your friend Maria explained. "Y/N is asking if she's too dumb to pass the Italian driver's licenses test."

"Well, why didn't she just say that?"

"Sorry Gio. In the UK thick can also mean dumb." You said.

"And over there they say pineapple instead of ananas like the rest of Europe."

"Well that's dumb." 

"You mean thick?"

"No, I mean dumb." Gio corrects Kenan who was smiling at you, the only person around the table to have understood his joke. "Dumb means dumb."

"Apparently not in the UK." Kenan said, continuing to tease Giovanni. You were the only one who found it funny, the two of them coming for each other's throats.

"Enough of this." Said Rebecca. "We need to help Y/N, pass her driver's license test before the summer, Otherwise we'll only have three drivers for the roadtrip to Bari."

"Three drivers?" Gio frowned.

"Yes, Me, Maria and Kenan."

"Well, what about Luca and I?"

"Well, for starters, I would never trust you behind the wheel of a car Gio, certainly not my parents Range Rover. I don't know how you got your driver's license in the first place, but having it certified in Pompeii just tells me what I need to know."

"What do you mean? My uncle lives over there. He had me driving the tourists around in his minivan."

"Exactly my point." Rebecca said. "Your uncle is a criminal and everyone knows it."

"Whatever." Gio waved. "None of you knows how to run a respectable business, that's all."

"You mean robbing tourists of their hard earned money?"

"Exactly."

"Guy's, please." Maria pleaded. Lunch hour was usually like this for you and your friends. You were a very diverse group, resulting in Maria often having to take on the role as umpire whenever the heated arguments would spiral. "I have to say I agree with Gio on this one."

"You do?" Gio and Rebecca uttered simultaneously.

"Yes. Not that Gio shouldn't drive, I will never be a passenger in his car. But why not Luca?"

All heads turned to the mysterious being that was Luca. He wasn't taking part in any of the conversations. Instead his head was turned away from the lunch table, his gaze overlooking the city of Turin, perhaps dreaming of escaping it some day. Except for being quiet and reserved Luca was also the kindest amongst you, and undoubtedly the handsomest out of all the guys. A personal opinion, that you preferred to keep to yourself.

"Yeah, Luca is not driving me." Rebecca said. "It's a long way to Bari, he'll get too distracted by the mountains along the road. What if we crash?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry to agree." 

"Kenan?" Maria frowned.

"Well, then guess the driving will come down to you three." Gio said, looking at Rebecca, Maria and Kenan.

"Not if we help Y/N, pass her driver's licenses test." Rebecca opposed.

"And how the hell will we do that?"

"I say we take turns."

"Take turns to do what?"

"To give Y/N driving lessons. She's obviously not getting the right amount that she needs, it would cost her a fortune."

"Hey." You blushed.

"Sorry Y/N, but it's true. I say that once or twice a week until school ends, we take turns teaching Y/N how to drive, so when her time comes to take the tests she'll pass it flawlessly."

"I agree." Maria nodded.

"Fine." Gio sighed.

"Sounds like a good idea." Kenan second.

"Luca?"

Everyone shifted towards him as he had failed to answer, not that his answer was anticipated. However, to everyone's surprise, Luca's attention was drawn back to the table, his green eyes looking right at you. "Sure." He smiled. "I'll help Y/N pass her driver's license test."

"Great, that settles it." Rebecca said. "Who wants to go first?"

Your heart beat violently in your chest, hoping, no, begging, that it would be Luca. But as everyone shared hesitant glances, one person raised his hand. "I'll go first."

"Kenan." Maria grinned. "That's very kind of you."

He winked an eye at you as you sobbed internally.

[orangerainforest]

🌻

[20dollarlolita]

For a long time, I trained new employees at my job. A lot of them were young and had not ever had a job before.

I told them that I didn't believe in "the customer is always right" for many reasons, but partly because it implies that when the customer is wrong, you don't have to keep providing them service. This person is wrong, therefore they are not my customer.

At least, that's what I told my customers when I said that. They feel flattered, even though that's total bullshit. The real answer is, "The customer is king." This works really well because you can google "list of times the king was a fucking idiot" and get some pretty good answers.

But, in general, I have two customer service rules, and I have a really good customer service record, so I think they work. They are one, it is not right to make the customer feel stupid, and two, if you find that you're in a fight with a customer, you've already lost.

Well, I broke one of those today.

This lady comes in right-ass full-on livid. She got her serger serviced, she says, and she wanted it set to a rolled hem, and it came back from service with a stitch sample that was not a rolled hem.

So I asked her if she'd actually sewn with it, plugged it in, anything. She said of course she hadn't, because she wanted us to see how wrong we were and how, I quote, "my needs were disrespected." I said I'd take a look at it. She dropped it on my counter and said, "Good! I have to go to the bathroom!!" and stormed off. Maybe that's why she was so grumpy, I don't know.

Anyway, the machine was actually set for a rolled hem. I waited. When she was done in the bathroom and browsing around, I ran her fabric through the serger and asked if the hem was better.

"Yes. That's what I wanted. Thank you."

And then I looked her dead in the face and said, "I didn't change anything. That's how it was set."

Because sometimes it IS right to make a customer feel stupid.

[fxa]

tumblr is my only social but occasionally i do indulge in visiting other sites and looking up people i didn't like in high school to rejoice in how awful their lives are now

[joelsgreys]

someone to be thankful for

DBF! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: It’s Thanksgiving—when dinner with your nightmare of a family goes south, you find comfort in the person you least expect it from: your father’s best friend, Joel Miller.

warnings/tags: 18+ only, MINORS DNI. (AU, NO OUTBREAK) non canon, DBF! Joel, AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s, i do not specify her age, but she’s a recent college grad so do with that what you will, not everyone graduates at the same specific age ya know? Joel is in his mid-ish 50’s). Reader’s a teacher, she is visiting her suburban childhood home from a big city. Reader’s parents are religious and practice traditional-ish gender norms (i.e father is head of the household kinda thing) reader’s family celebrates Thanksgiving (sorry) several mentions of food and alcohol, reader’s parents suck, she has two brothers who come with names, a lot of her relatives come with names, watch out for Aunt Ines she’s a bitch. (TW) body/weight shaming (twice) PLEASE BE MINDFUL if this could be triggering. mentions of and implications of childhood abuse (not graphic) reader’s dad gets in her face, implied infidelity (reader’s dad), implied toxic marriage (reader’s parents). soft, caring, protective Joel. Joel’s recently divorced, mention of Sarah, mentions of the ex-wife. SMUT. oral sex (female receiving) p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) reader states she’s on baby blockers (birth control), creampie, DADDY KINK (bc reader clearly has a few daddy issues), LOTS of pet names (darlin’, baby, pretty girl, sweetheart, honey), size kink (ish?), cockwarming. think i got it all?

PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. if this isn’t your thing, that is fine but just keep on scrolling.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION.

word count: 11.5k

a/n: yeah…idk. this was very delayed because it turned into a whole thing. if anyone actually reads all 11k of this, i will bake you muffins.

You take a deep breath and look in the mirror.

Skirt pressed, not a wrinkle in sight.

Hair brushed, not a single strand out of place.

Makeup done, not a blemish to be seen.

And somehow, someone will still find something.

Something to point out.

Something to comment on.

Something to criticize.

If not your appearance, it’ll be something else.

Because someone always had something to say.

“Should you be eating all of that?”

“Another year gone and still no boyfriend?”

“Don’t you want to get married?”

“When I was in my twenties, I had two children.”

Boundaries didn’t exist on Thanksgiving.

Actually, for your family, boundaries didn’t exist at all—somehow, they are still scratching their heads and wondering why you’d decided to up and leave the minute your high school principal handed over that diploma, your ticket to freedom.

“Sweetie!” Your mother’s shrill voice calls from the kitchen downstairs. “I need a hand! Our guests are going to start arriving soon and there is still plenty left for us to do before they get here!”

You groan outwardly.

There’s still plenty left to do?

How’s that even fucking possible?

You’ve been cooking and baking since sunrise.

“Don’t you think it’s too early?” you’d grumbled at five o’ clock in the morning when your mother had pulled you out of bed, declaring it was time for the big dinner preparations to begin—even though it’d be several hours before your family came over and gathered around the table to break bread. She had pulled the turkey out of the freezer a few days ago, a massive, thirty-pound whole bird that looked big enough to feed a small village. In addition, she had picked up a ham and a brisket. “Mom, why’s there so much food?” Rubbing the sleep from your eyes with the sleeve of your robe, you’d started making your way over to the Nespresso only to realize that the coffee machine was hidden behind paper bags full of groceries. “Are we cooking for all of Texas or something?”

“Very funny,” she had glared at you. “Of course we aren’t.” She started unwrapping the turkey. “We’re simply making sure we have enough food and that we have different options for everyone to enjoy, so knock it off with the wisecracks and get to peeling those carrots for me for the stuffing. There is not a single minute to waste today, you hear me, missy? We’re hosting a dozen people, so everything must be absolutely perfect. I won’t accept anything less than perfection today, do you understand me?”

Thirteen hours later, she’s still driving you insane.

You’re only home visiting until the end of the week and then it’s back to the Midwest. You can survive her for three more days, right?

You hear her calling your name and exhale a small, frustrated sigh. “I’m coming, mom!” you call back. It’s difficult to mask the annoyance in your tone of voice, but somehow you manage it. “One minute!”

Smoothing down your pleated plaid skirt, you take one last look in the mirror to make sure everything is in order—there is a loose thread on the sleeve of your brown, knitted sweater and you carefully snip it off with a pair of scissors before sliding your feet into the comfiest pair of ankle boots you’d packed and head downstairs, nose leading the way as you follow the warm, delicious scent of the made from scratch biscuits and rolls baking in the oven.

You find your mother standing at the center island counter garnishing a charcuterie board with sweet gherkins and sprigs of fresh herbs. She is donning festive apron embroidered with fall leaves over her designer dress; her hair’s still up in rollers. “Finally, there you are,” she huffs out loudly the second she hears you walk into the kitchen. Down the hallway, your father and two younger brothers are shouting at some football game on the flat screen television in the living room—men don’t lift a single finger on this day, at least not in this household. “I need you to start setting the table for me. I have place cards in that bag over there. Make sure your dad’s at the head of the table. Oh and don’t forget to bring out the children’s table for all your little cousins—” She glances up, letting out a small gasp when she sees you. “What in the world are you wearing?”

Frowning, you look down at yourself. “Clothes?”

Her ruby red lips purse together in a tight thin line.

“Honey, that skirt is too short. It’s inappropriate.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at her. “It’s like an inch above the knee, how is that inappropriate? It’s not like it’s a miniskirt, mom.” As she eyes your skirt with disapproval, you decide you’re not in the mood to argue and say, “Okay, fine. I’ll go upstairs and change into something else then—”

“No, no, forget it,” she shakes her head. “We don’t have the time for that.” Your mother whirls around, picking up the bag of place holders—she’d special ordered little turkeys carved out of wood. She also takes a marker and a notepad, shoving everything into your hands. “Here. I wrote down all the names of everyone who’s coming for dinner. The children get place holders too but make sure the little ones are sitting beside someone older to help them. Oh! Did I already mention putting your dad at the head of the—”

Tuning her out, your eyes scan down the guest list and if there’s one thing to be thankful for today it’s the fact that your mother’s given you the power to seat everybody wherever you want. Halfway down the list, you see the names of several relatives that you don’t want anywhere near you at the table. An Aunt Miriam who smells like the inside of a casino; a cousin Jennifer who refuses to acknowledge her forty-eight month old is actually four years old; an uncle Richard who always has one too many beers and winds up spewing antigovernment conspiracy theories, ranting until he’s passed out somewhere, such as on the floor of the guest bathroom.

You get to the bottom of the list and can’t help but raise an eyebrow in surprise. “Joel Miller?”

She nods, returning to her board.

“You remember Mr. Miller, don’t you, sweetie? He and your father went to college together—he’s one of his oldest and dearest friends. Don’t tell me you forgot about him? You’ve met him plenty of ti—”

“Yeah, I remember who Joel is, mom,” you mutter, cutting her off. “Didn’t he and the family move out to Arizona like, four years ago? To Phoenix, right?” You’d been away for college then. Taking a second glance at the list, you notice she had forgotten the names of Joel’s wife and daughter. Surely, it’d just been a mistake on her part, though. “I had no idea they were in town visiting. Dad didn’t mention it to me at all.”

“They’re not.” She lowers her voice, as if someone else is standing in the room listening. “Joel moved back to Austin, he’s been back for a few days now. He and Connie, they um—” Pausing for a moment, she reaches up and clasps the cross hanging from her neck before whispering, “They got divorced.”

Taken aback, your mouth parts slightly. “What?”

“I know. Joel and Connie were the last people that I ever thought would get divorced. Such a shame,” your mother remarks, shaking her head. “I ran into Mrs. Adler at the super market and she was telling me all about it. Thinks they could have saved their marriage if only those two—”

“Would get right with Jesus,” you finish, biting the tiny smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “She says that about everything, mom.”

“Well, she isn’t wrong! The sacrament of marriage is a lifelong bond that shouldn’t be broken. It’s not right.” Dropping her hand away from her necklace, she crosses her arms over chest. “Anyway, Connie stayed in Phoenix. Sarah’s spending Thanksgiving with her. Your father didn’t want Joel spending the holiday alone and invited him over for dinner. That means I need you to be on your very best behavior tonight. I don’t want you embarrassing your father in front of his closest friend. Is that understood?”

You can’t help but scoff a little. “I’m not a child.”

She narrows her eyes at you and scoffs right back, planting her hands on her hips.

“No, you’re a smart aleck. Need I remind you what happened last Thanksgiving with Aunt Ines?”

Of course she didn’t have to remind you about last year’s fiasco with her insufferable bitch of a sister.

“That’s an awfully big piece of pumpkin pie,” she’d remarked loudly, eliciting snickers from everybody sitting at the table. “Don’t forget, dear—a moment on the lips, forever on the hips. And you have quite a few forevers on your hips already, darling.”

You had smiled sweetly at her, your fingers itching to fling your mother’s fine china at her. “I wouldn’t really worry about my pie, Aunt Ines,” you had said as soon as you realized that nobody, not even your parents, would be coming to your defense. “Much less when your husband’s stepping out and eating someone else’s pie when he’s away on all those so called business trips. Worry about that instead.”

That comment hadn’t gone over all too well. Three months later, Aunt Ines and Uncle Louis started to see a marriage counselor. Whoops.

“Well?”

“She deserved that,” you say, shrugging lightly.

“She’s family.”

“She’s a jerk.”

“You crossed a line.”

“She crossed it first.”

Before your mother can respond, the sound of the doorbell ringing echoes throughout the house.

“Jesus, we don’t have time for this!” Your mother’s eyes widen when she tries running a hand through her hair and realizes she still has her rollers in. “Oh no, people are arriving and I’m still not ready!” She makes a beeline for the hallway. “Get the door and greet our guests, I’ll be down in five minutes!”

She disappears upstairs into her bedroom and you hear the doorbell ring again. Your father shouts for someone to go answer it, someone other than him or your brothers because it is the end of the fourth quarter and they just can’t possibly miss that.

You make your way through the foyer and open up the front door expecting it to be one of your family members, but it’s not.

Your throat instantly goes dry at the sight of him.

He’s broader than you remeber, so much broader.

The fabric of his sage green dress shirt is nice and snug on his frame—stretched taut over the planes of his chest and his wide shoulders. He’s holding a box of store bought something or other but you’re much too preoccupied with the way the sleeves of his shirt are hugging his biceps to notice what it is although you assume it’s some kind of dessert. He looks far more delicious than whatever sweet treat could be in that white box he’s got in his hands.

After a minute, you realize you’ve been gawking at him and the heat rushes to your cheeks. “Hello Mr. Miller,” you greet him politely. “It’s very nice to see you again. Please, come on in.”

He smiles, his brown eyes warm and sweet behind his square, black-rimmed glasses. “You remember me,” he states and the syrupy richness of his voice sends a pleasant tingle up your spine. Stepping off to the side, you allow him inside—as he steps past you over the threshold, the tantalizing scent of his cologne almost brings you to your knees. Notes of a citrus accord like tart grapefruit, fresh bergamot mixed with the woodiness of vetiver and musk; it’s intoxicating, something you could easily get drunk off of if you’re not careful. “I’m surprised. S’been a real long time since you last saw me.”

“It hasn’t been all that long,” you reply, closing the door behind you. You speak to him in the steadiest voice you can muster, with nonchalance—as if you aren’t one missed heartbeat away from feeling like a silly little schoolgirl with her first crush. “Has it?”

He thinks about it. “‘Bout four and a half years.”

“That’s really not that long.”

“S’not,” Joel admits with a chuckle. “But with how much I’ve aged in that short amount of time, I just wasn’t sure if you’d recognize me, y’know? I look a lot different than I used to.” He pauses and laughs, shaking his head. “I must look like an old geezer to you now, don’t I?”

Grays lightly pepper his thick dark brown curls, his beard and his mustache. He’s got crows feet when he smiles, he has worry lines and creases between his eyebrows—he does look a lot older, but he’s so goddamn handsome, wrinkles, fine lines, and all.

You toss him a playful eye roll, prompting a grin. “I don’t think you look like an old geezer, Mr. Miller.”

“Well, you’re sure as hell makin’ me feel like an old geezer by callin’ me that, darlin’ girl.” He gives you a little wink and you’re not quite sure if it’s that, or if it was the way he’d used a pet name that knocks all the wind out of your lungs. “Please, just call me Joel.”

You nod and shyly agree to it. “Okay, then. Joel.”

“S’much better.” His grin widens and a prominent, deep dimple appears on the left side of his cheek.

There’s a silence that follows, but it’s not awkward or weird. It’s comfortable—being in his presence is comfortable. His sweet disposition makes you feel so calm, so at ease.

Joel’s always been a nice man of course, although your interactions with him had been limited—kind, quick hello’s in passing on Sundays whenever he’d come over to watch football with your dad, maybe a polite how are you here and there if you bumped into him at gatherings like a backyard barbecue or birthday party. But you’re older now, no longer the child who greeted her father’s best friend because it was bad manners if she didn’t. You don’t want to throw him that kind, quick hello or that polite how are you and then scurry off the way you used to as a little kid. You actually want to talk to Joel Miller.

But you suddenly remember he’s not here for you.

He’s here for your father.

Joel!” Your mother screeches, five-inch high heels clacking loudly as she descends the staircase. She had ditched the apron and hair rollers—and put on one too many layers of her heaviest perfume. With a delighted squeal, she rushes up to Joel and pulls him into a bone crushing hug, almost causing him to drop the box he’s still holding. “Oh, it is so good to see you! It’s been far too long!”

You force back a small, amused snort.

As if she hadn’t been judging the man for a failed marriage just minutes ago in the kitchen.

It’s performative, too over the top to be sincere.

“S’good to see you too.” He steps back and laughs as he adjusts his glasses with one of his hands. He holds out the box to her with the other. “Picked up a pecan pie on the way over here. I would’a tried to make it myself, but the kitchen’s still all packed up in boxes.” He pauses, laughing again. “Then again, I ain’t really much of a baker. Store bought was for the best I reckon,” he admits, sheepishly. When he shrugs his shoulders, his shirt strains a bit over his frame and even your mother can’t help but stare a little.

Lightly clearing her throat, she takes the box from him and reminds him, “Didn’t I tell you that all you had to bring tonight was a nice, healthy appetite?”

Joel lightly pats his stomach. “Brought that too. In fact, I didn’t eat a thing all day long. I’m absolutely starvin’ right now. Could eat a whole horse.”

“Good! Dinner’s going to be served soon. William’s in the living room with the boys, watching football game after football game. Come with me, I’m sure you’re eager to see him.” Your mother spins on her heel and hands you the dessert. “Sweetie, will you be a gem and go put this in the kitchen for me?” It isn’t a request, it’s an order masked as a request—it’s the kindest she’s been to you all day. She takes Joel’s arm and leads him down the hallway, calling out over her shoulder, “And please set the table!”

You do set the table, and when you do, you decide to sit yourself right next to Joel Miller.

Your mother lightly clinks her knife against the rim of her wine glass and clears her throat. “Everyone! It’s time to join hands and say grace before we dig into our meal,” she announces, her voice breaking through the loud, buzzing chatter at the table. She waits until there’s complete silence and then takes her seat, the chair adjacent to your father’s. You’re on his opposite side and Joel’s right beside you. “I think you should do the honor, William. You are the man of the house, after all.”

Nodding, your father begins the prayer.

“Heavenly Father, bless this food we are about—”

You’re not listening. You’re distracted by the jolt of electricity that zips through your entire body when you put your hand in Joel’s. His hand dwarfs yours and it’s rough and calloused, but somehow it’s the most gentle, soothing touch. Heat prickles at your face and neck when you feel him sweep his thumb across the back of your hand—you open your eyes and glance over at him, wondering if that had just been an accident. You’re convinced it was, until he does it again, running his finger over each knuckle one at a time. Slowly, like he’s savoring the touch.

Biting your lip, you give his hand a gentle squeeze.

His head is bowed and his eyes are still closed, but a faint smile tugs lightly at the corner of his mouth and he firmly squeezes your hand back. There’s an unmistakable desire that’s already burning deep in your lower belly, a flame you can’t extinguish even when the angel on your shoulder reminds you that not only is Joel Miller twice your fucking age, he is also your father’s best friend. His best friend.

“…through Christ our Lord. Amen.”

“Amen,” your relatives chime together in unison.

You force out the declaration. “Amen.”

“Amen,” Joel murmurs, opening his eyes. He turns to you and his gaze flits to your hand in his and for a moment, it almost seems like he doesn’t want to let it go. It feels like Joel doesn’t want to let it go—and he doesn’t. He doesn’t let it go until the sound of your father’s loud, booming voice announcing it is time for him to carve the bird startles the two of you apart. Clearing his throat lightly, Joel turns his attention forward and reaches for his cabernet. He gulps down half his glass in one easy swallow.

Dinner’s fairly uneventful.

You eat in complete silence, as does Joel.

Part of you wonders if it’s because you’re sitting in between him and your father, the only person that he’s most comfortable conversing with. Assuming this is the case, you’re just about to ask him if he’d like to trade places when he turns to you and says, “Your dad told me you went to school in Chicago.”

He’s just being friendly, you remind yourself when your heart starts to flutter wildly at the notion that he wants to talk to you. He’s friendly. That’s all. It doesn’t mean anything.

“Yeah. I did.” You pick up your glass of wine, taking a sip hoping it’ll ease the nerves. “I graduated over the summer and took a teaching job out there.”

“You became a teacher?”

“Yeah. I teach kindergarten.” You smile proudly.

“Can you believe that, Joel?” Your father lets out a scoff and shakes his head. “I spent thousands and thousands of dollars to send her to school. All that money and for what? For her to learn how to teach little ankle biters how to color inside the lines?” He rolls his eyes and gestures to your two brothers on the opposite side of the table. “Now my boys, they are smart. Chose good careers to pursue. Brandon starts applying to medical school in the spring. Oh and Matthew? He got early acceptance to Yale. He plans on studying law.” He shifts his attention over to you once more and shrugs. “Not too sure where I went wrong with this one.”

You stare at him in complete and utter disbelief.

“Dad.”

Chortling, he waves a dismissive hand. “Oh, come on, honey. I’m just kidding around. You know that I don’t mean it.” He then reaches out, pinching your cheek roughly. “Don’t be so sensitive,” he tells you before turning his attention back to his plate.

But he does mean it.

His comments hurt, and you hate that they hurt.

Joel nudges your arm with his. “Y’know somethin’, it takes someone real special to become a teacher, ‘specially to kids that age,” he states in a matter of fact tone. “Someone who’s real sweet and patient, someone real smart too. Someone just like you.”

Warmth radiates through your entire body. It’s not just his words, but it’s the sincerity behind them.

You shoot him a small, grateful smile.

The two of you wind up talking to one another.

Joel’s moving his contracting business, bringing it back to Austin from Phoenix to run it with Tommy, his younger brother who you vaguely remembered meeting a time or two in the past. He mentions his daughter here and there, but doesn’t bring Connie up once—perhaps it’s too painful for him? It’s hard to tell. He seems to be in good spirits and truth be told, it doesn’t appear he’s mourning his marriage; but it’s difficult to believe he’s not missing her, the woman he’d spent three decades of his life with. It shouldn’t even matter to you whether he’s missing his ex-wife or not, if there are residual feelings still lingering around. But it does matter and you don’t know why. Or maybe you do know why, but you’re too ashamed to admit it.

“Do you like Chicago?” Joel questions, curiously.

Shrugging, you respond, “Yeah. It’s a cool city.”

“You plan on stayin’ out there permanently?”

“I’m not too sure,” you admit. “It’s too expensive. I don’t want to live with a roommate forever. Unless teachers start getting paid more, I don’t think that I’ll ever be able to afford to live alone in Chicago.”

Joel seems hesitant about his next query. “Do you ever think ‘bout comin’ back to Austin at all?”

Suddenly, you’re not too sure about that either.

You’ve been itching to go back and get as far from Austin, Texas as possible, but now, it means being far from Joel Miller. There’s a deep, sinking feeling inside of your chest at the thought.

Realizing he’s still waiting for a response, you have no choice but to tell him the truth. “I don’t think I’ll ever come back here, to be honest. Not to stay.”

“Oh. I see.” He sounds disappointed. “Are you—do you plan on visitin’ home again for Christmas?”

“I do. I’ll be here for Christmas and New Year’s.”

He’s being friendly. He’s being friendly. He’s—

“It’d be real nice to see you again then.” Flushing a deep shade of red, subtle regret flashes across his features, as if he’d said it without thinking. Picking up his glass, he drains the rest of his wine and you can swear he’s nervous. About what he’d just said, and about whether or not your parents, who are in such close proximity, had overheard him. Because what business did he have in telling their daughter it would be nice to see her again?

They’re both much too preoccupied. Your father is attempting to be slick checking his text messages underneath the table and you can tell by the smirk on his face that it’s one of his secretaries. He’s got a penchant for perky blondes in tight pencil skirts. Your mother is well aware of this. She is also aware he’s on his phone, but she turns a blind eye just as she always does and distracts herself by being the perfect hostess.

Feeling foolishly courageous, you turn back to him and nod, heart pounding against your sternum. “It would. It’d be very nice, actually.”

Relieved, he nods and murmurs quietly, “We’ll talk ‘bout it later, then. That okay, darlin’?”

Not wanting to seem too eager, you nod again and turn away from him, teeth sinking into your lip in a futile attempt to hide the giddiness in your smile—but the soft chuckle Joel elicits under his breath is a clear indication that it’s useless.

He knows how he’s making you feel. He likes it.

Your mother returns from the kitchen carrying two baskets of fresh crescent rolls, one for each end of the table. She sets one of them down right in front of you and you reach out to take one when a voice, one that sounds as awful as nails scraping down a chalkboard, remarks loudly, “Should you be eating so much bread, dear?” Ines, who’s sitting a couple chairs down, next to your grandmother, looks over at you and raises an eyebrow. There’s a smug little smile on her face, almost as if she were daring you to run your mouth like you’d done last year.

For as much as it pains you, you make your choice and decide not to take the bait. You pull your hand out of the basket of rolls and pick up your glass of wine instead, chugging it down like it’s water.

Frowning, Joel picks up the basket and takes a roll that you assume is for himself, but it’s not. Putting it on your plate, he shoots her a frigid glare. “Don’t you listen to her.” He says it loud enough for her to hear him. “You just enjoy yourself, alright?”

Your aunt bats her eyes, innocently. “Well, I’m just saying. If my skirt was that tight on me, I would be thinking twice about what goes into my mouth.”

Hushed laughter sweeps across the entire table.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” You slam your empty glass down so hard onto the table that the entire dining room goes completely silent. The little ones at the children’s table stare with big and wide eyes, mouths full of food hung open because a grown up had just used a naughty word.

Your mother says your name warningly. “Don’t you start,” she hisses, shaking her head. “Be quiet.”

Angrily, you round on her. “Seriously? You’re going to let her say that to me? You don’t care that she’s making comments about my weight?” You almost laugh. Of course doesn’t care, she has never cared and she never will. “I’m your daughter! Would it kill you to defend me for once in your fucking life?”

“Shut your mouth!” Your father stands up, shoving a threatening finger into your face, so close the tip of it almost touches the tip of your nose. He hasn’t put his hands on you since you were nine, but he’s as drunk as he is angry, and you find yourself back in the shoes of the little girl who would curl up into a ball in the corner of her room as she begged and pleaded for him not to hurt her. “You hear me?”

Joel stands and walks around your chair. Placing a hand on your father’s chest, he mutters, “Hey now let’s take a step back from her, alright?” He guides him back down into his chair. “Ain’t gotta be in her face like that, Will.”

“I’m sick and tired of her ruining everything—can’t get through one dinner without her screwing it up! Always has to run that fucking mouth of hers! She still acts like a goddamn fucking child—”

You can’t bear to sit there and hear another insult.

Fighting back the hot tears that are threatening to spill over, you quickly stand up and rush out of the dining room. You make a beeline for the front door and step outside onto the porch. It’s about sixty or so degrees in Austin and the cold nips at your bare legs, but that’s the least of your worries. Without a place to go, you descend the porch steps and find yourself walking towards the swing that’s hanging from the old bur oak tree in the front yard. You had asked your father for a swing when you were three years old—it wasn’t until your brothers asked for a swing a couple years later that he’d hung one up.

You sit down, hands curling around the rope that’s so old and weathered it’s beginning to fray slightly but not so much so that you’re concerned about it snapping. You’re so busy trying to keep it together that you don’t notice the sound of crisp, autumnal leaves crunching under a pair of boots behind you. A hand gingerly touches your shoulder. You let out a startled gasp and glance over to see it’s Joel.

“Hey there, darlin’,” he says, gently.

You stare at him in surprise.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Needed to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” you grit the lie through your teeth.

Joel’s expression softens. “You ain’t gotta pretend with me, sweetheart.”

His concern is genuine. It’s real.

You don’t quite know how to handle it. Accept it.

“It got real ugly in there, ‘specially with your dad.”

Tears prickle at your eyes all over again. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Joel. I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry?” Baffled, Joel walks around the swing and a minor labored grunt escapes him as he squats in front of you. “There’s a few people who need to be apologizin’ for what happened, but darlin’ you sure as fuckin’ hell ain’t one of them.”

It’s odd. Feels foreign, even.

You’re not used to someone being on your side—it prompts more tears to spring forward and despite your best efforts to fight them off, it’s useless. You manage to whisper his name. It’s a feeble warning, one that’s telling him to go back inside before he’s caught in the torrential downpour of emotions you are mere seconds away from unleashing on him.

But he doesn’t budge. He waits. Joel knows you’re about to break and he’s ready to catch the pieces.

Finally, a tear slips and rolls down your cheek, only to be followed by another and then another. You’re holding onto the swing for dear life now, emotions that you’ve been holding in for your whole life now coming to the surface. The rope digs painfully into the palms of your hands. He reaches out and curls his fingers lightly around your wrists.

“S’okay to let go,” Joel encourages you and you’re certain he’s not just referring to the swing. “Listen to me, darlin’ girl. I ain’t gonna let you fall, alright? I’m right here to catch you. You can let go. I’ve got you, okay?”

You allow Joel to take your hands off the rope and he guides them around his shoulders as you begin to crumble. Leaning forward slightly off the swing, you wrap you arms around him and bury your face into his neck. “Joel,” you choke out his name as he wraps his own arms around your waist, pulling you closer into him.

He feels like stability.

He feels like security.

He feels like safety.

Your entire body shudders as you cry, cry, cry.

“S’alright, sweet girl. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

He repeats his reassurance over and over again.

He wants you to believe it.

And you do believe it.

Joel’s as patient as can be. It’s growing colder and his knees are begging for a change of positon, but couldn’t care less about the discomfort. He rubs a soothing circle into your back and waits until there is nothing left except little hiccups and sniffles.

“Shit,” you mumble when you pull back and notice you’d left behind a wet spot on his shirt along with light traces of mascara. You wipe at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater. “I ruined your shirt.”

“S’okay. Nothin’ the dry cleaners can’t take care of for me.” Joel chuckles and lets go of you. “You feel a little better now, darlin’?”

“I do.” You glance over your shoulder at the house, then exhale a sigh and turn back to him, admitting quietly, “I don’t want to go back in there, though.”

He rises to his feet and pulls out a set of keys from the pocket of his black jeans. “Well, y’dont have to go back in there,” he states. “Is there somewhere I can take you? Friend’s house, maybe?”

“My best friend Megan went to Puerto Vallarta for Thanksgiving. Most of my other friends left Austin like I did,” you explain, sighing again. “Anyone who didn’t leave is spending their time with their family tonight and I don’t want to bother them.”

Joel hums, mulling it over in his mind. “Well, don’t know how comfortable you’ll be with the idea, but my place ain’t all too far from here. Ten minutes or so. Less if there’s no one out on the roads.”

“Joel, that’s so nice of you to offer, but I’ve already ruined your dinner tonight. The last thing I want to do is put you out even more,” you say, sheepishly.

“Sweetheart, you didn’t ruin a fuckin’ thing for me tonight. And you wouldn’t be puttin’ me out at all,” he promises. “S’gettin’ late and truth be told, I just wanna get you somewhere warm.” Holding out his free hand, he adds, “And comfortable.”

“But Joel—”

“I can be real stubborn too, y’know,” he teases you with a playful grin. “We’ll be out here all night long freezin’ our fuckin’ asses off.”

He isn’t going to take no for an answer.

“Okay,” you relent, accepting the offer.

You place your hand in his and he helps you off the swing. He doesn’t let it go as he leads the way to a sleek, black Dodge Ram that’s parked behind your grandfather’s silver Mercedes. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze before dropping it. “Sorry, sweet girl. It’s a bit of a trip up into the seat,” he remarks, chuckling as he opens the passenger side door for you. He gives you a boost into the truck; the scent of new leather is mixed with that of his cologne. It is all man and couldn’t be sexier. “Good up there?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

Joel closes the door and hurriedly walks around to the driver’s side of the pickup, climbing up into his seat with ease. “Seatbelt,” he tells you as he sticks the key into the ignition. The first thing he does as soon as the engine roars to life is turn on your seat warmer. He switches on the heater as well, waiting a minute before asking, “You warm enough?”

“I am. Thank you, Joel.”

“‘Course.” He nods and pulls away from the curb.

As Joel’s driving you further and further from your parents’ house, all you feel is sweet relief.

“M’sorry the place is such a mess.”

Joel leads you into his living room and touches his hand to the back of his neck, embarrassed.

Amused, you raise an eyebrow at him and say, “I’d hardly call cardboard boxes stacked neatly over on one side of the room a mess, Joel.” You take a look around his townhouse—most of his furniture’s still wrapped up in plastic, except for the black leather couch and the rustic, acacia wood coffee table. He has a flat screen mounted over the brick fireplace; he’s been sleeping on the couch, or at least, that’s what the pillow and Texas Longhorns fleece throw tells you. You turn to him. “If you want to see a real mess, you should see my apartment in Chicago.”

You watch him as he takes off his glasses and puts them down on the coffee table.

“S’it pretty bad?”

“My roommate’s a kindergarten teacher too. You’d be surprised at how many popsicle sticks two girls in their twenties can end up bringing home. Not to mention all the glitter.”

“If you’re tryin’ to make me feel better, it’s workin’ like a charm.” Joel picks up his blanket and drapes it over the armchair adjacent to the couch. “Go on and make yourself comfortable, darlin’. You thirsty at all? I’ve got water or I can make coffee. Also got a pack of beer in the fridge,” he adds, jokingly.

“What kind of beer?” you ask curiously as you sink down onto the couch.

He seems pleasantly surprised by your interest.

“Lone Star.”

“I’ll have one. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“‘Course it’s not too much trouble. Not at all.”

It’s hard not to stare as he walks away towards the kitchen. Your thighs clench together—his back, his shoulders, those unkempt salt and pepper curls of his that tuft at the nape of his neck right above his collar—this man is the epitome of utter perfection. Your mind wanders and you can’t help imagine the way your legs would look thrown over those broad shoulders. How his large hands would feel on your plush skin as they wrap around your thighs to hold them in place against his chest while he fucks y—

“Here you go, darlin’.”

Joel’s deep voice shatters your train of thought.

He’s standing beside you, holding out the bottle of beer, which he’d uncapped along with his own.

Blood rushes to your cheeks. “Thank you,” you say as you accept the beer from him, trying not to lose the sliver of composure that you’re holding onto—it wavers when your fingers accidentally brush his.

“S’it too cold in here for you?” he asks. “I normally keep the thermostat pretty low.”

“It’s a little cold,” you admit. “But it’s not a prob—”

It’s too late. Joel walks over to the fireplace and he manages to strike a match and light it with just his free hand. After tossing in a couple logs, he makes his way back over to the couch and he takes a seat beside you. “That a bit better, sweetheart?”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugs. “You said it was cold.”

He takes a long, generous swig of the golden lager before setting the bottle down on one of the green ceramic coasters on the coffee table. He sits back; an arm stretches out over the back of the couch in a casual manner and his legs spread open causing your thighs to clench together once more.

“You feelin’ alright?”

“Huh?” You then realize he is referring to what had happened at dinner. “Oh. Um. Yeah, I’m alright.”

Joel peers at you, his concern evident, clear in the depths of his dark brown eyes. “You sure?”

“No. Not really,” you confess, tracing the mouth of your bottle with your index finger. “But I’ll get over it. I don’t have a choice but to get over it.” Another lump starts forming in the back of your throat and you swallow it, quickly chasing it down with a gulp of beer.

“M’guessin’ your family’s got somethin’ to do with why you decided to leave Austin?”

“Bingo,” you deadpan. “I was so sick and tired of it all. How I was talked to, how I was treated. Like I’m such a fucking disappointment.”

He frowns. “You’re not a disappointment, though.”

“My parents think I’m a disappointment. My dad’s never told me he’s proud of me, Joel. Nothing I do, nothing I have ever done is good enough for either of them, but especially not for him.” There is a dull ache that settles in your heart and all you can do is silently will yourself not to breakdown again, not in front of him, at least. You sigh. “Do you know what it’s like, not feeling good enough for someone that is supposed to love you no matter what? Someone who’s supposed to love you unconditionally?”

Joel knows it’s a rhetorical question, he knows it’s not something you’re expecting him to answer.

But he does answer, because he does know.

“I do, actually. I know all too well what it feels like.”

He looks down at his left hand, which is resting on his thigh and you do too. Your eyes flicker over the fading tanline on his finger—where he once wore a wedding band. You don’t even think twice about it and reach over, sweeping your own finger over the patch of pale skin. Without missing a beat, you tell him, “You’re good enough, Joel.”

He can’t help but laugh a little. “She’d disagree.”

“She’s wrong.”

“You don’t know what happened.”

“I don’t have to know what happened.”

“That ain’t how it works, sweetheart.”

Stubbornly, you lift your chin. “I don’t care.”

Joel laughs. “Y’think you know me, darlin’? Y’think you know what kinda man I am? Hm?”

“I do know.” You place your hand on top of his and his jaw clenches. “You’re a good man, Joel Miller. I know that you’re a good man.”

“You couldn’t be more wrong ‘bout that.” There’s a brief pause and he hesitates before confessing, “A good man wouldn’t be sittin’ here just fuckin’ dyin’ to kiss his best friend’s daughter.”

You freeze and grip your bottle so tight, you would not be the slightest bit surprised if it shatters right in your hand. “You—you want to kiss me?”

“Since the moment you opened up that front door and said hello to me.” Joel shakes his head. “S’not right.” He’s riddled with guilt, with shame. He pulls his hand out from under yours. “I ain’t a good man at all. You’re half my fuckin’ age and I shouldn’t—”

You cut him off, softly uttering his name. “Joel?”

“Yeah?” His voice sounds hoarse. Strained.

“Can you—will you kiss me? Please?”

You need more than just his kiss, so much more.

You need him to unravel you in every way possible, but beggars can’t be choosers and if one kiss was all you’ll get tonight, then you’ll fucking take it.

Joel swallows dryly. “That really what you want?”

His eyes flicker down to your lips and then back to meet your sweet, innocent gaze.

“Yes,” you breathe in reply. “Please. Kiss me.”

He leans in, and there’s brief hesitation on his part and he stops mere centimeters from your face, his nose lightly brushing against yours. “We shouldn’t be doin’ this.” His warm breath fans over your lips; they’re parted, eager to meet his own. “I shouldn’t let this happen. I—I should take you back home to your family before I do somethin’ real stupid.”

Your heart sinks. “That really what you want?” you parrot his own question back to him and hold your breath, knowing there’s a chance his answer could be the answer that you don’t want to hear, the one that could end up crushing you.

Joel lifts his hand, cupping the side of your face in his palm. “‘Course it’s not what I want.” His thumb strokes your cheek, his dark eyes taking in each of your features. He’s studying, memorizing them, as if he’ll never get another chance to be this close to you again. With the line he’s about to cross, you’re both about to cross, that just might be the case.

The tension seeps through your skin and into your bones.

You exhale shakily. “Then just kiss me already.”

He moves his hand and gently curls it around your chin, holding you steady as he leans further in and closes the gap of space in between you. He moves slowly and he’s gentle—too gentle. You want to tell him you’re not made of porcelain, but you’re much too preoccupied with how Joel’s mouth feels, how perfectly it molds against yours. He delicately nips your bottom lip with his teeth. It’s a silent request.

He wants more, more, more. Your lips part for him, granting him the access he’s seeking. Joel doesn’t waste a single moment and he explores every inch of your mouth with his tongue, eliciting a whimper from you. Without breaking contact, he takes your beer and somehow he manages to lean over to set it down on the coffee table without dropping it. He then pushes you back into the couch and the next thing you know, you’re lying on your back and he’s settled in between your legs, using one of his arms to keep himself propped up, while the other wraps itself in your hair. Your own hands clutch at fistfuls of his shirt, fingers gripping the fabric so tight, the skin over your knuckles stretches painfully thin.

You whimper out again, the noise prompting a low growl to rumble through his chest—suddenly, he’s not being so gentle. He isn’t being rough. But he is hungry, he’s possessive, and he’s letting it show in the way he’s swelling your lips with his kisses, how his fingers are gripping the hair at the base of your neck as he firmly tilts your head backwards to give himself better access to your mouth.

Your mind is racing, and yet, you can’t think at all.

It’s not until his hips buck into you and you feel his bulge through his jeans against you that you break away from him. “Joel,” you gasp his out name. You grip his shirt even harder, chest heaving as you try to catch a much needed breath of air. You can feel the arousal pooling between your legs. The flames burning in the fireplace are nothing in comparison to the ones that are burning deep in your belly.

“Fuck,” he curses, pulling back. “M’sorry—”

The last thing you want is for him to be sorry.

“No! Please don’t be sorry,” you rasp, gazing up at him. Your eyes are glazed over with a lust you have never felt for another man before. “I want this, you know I want this—don’t you?”

Joel sighs, brushing a soft kiss to your temple. You wish he could take a peek into your mind, see how badly you want to be wrapped up in his arms—you want to get lost in his embrace, feel him all around you, inside you. You want him to write his name on your bare skin with his tongue, whisper his secrets into the spot where you’re aching for him most.

He sighs again and lightly shakes his head.

“Baby, y’need to think real hard ‘bout this—”

“I want this,” you repeat yourself. “I want you.”

Relaxing the death grip you have on his shirt, your hands release the fabric and move to the buttons. Your fingers tremble slightly as you undo each one of them; after an embarrassing fumble or two, you manage to get them all and push Joel’s shirt off of his shoulders. He sucks in a quick, sharp breath as your greedy hands begin roaming, exploring every inch of smooth, tan skin on his upper body.

Your touch erases all the uncertainty he’s feeling.

“Wanna feel you too, baby.” Joel takes the hem of your sweater and gestures for you to sit up slightly so he can pull it over your head. Carelessly tossing it somewhere behind him, he glances down, blood rushing to his cock as he takes in the sight of your supple curves clad in sweet, delicate white lace. “Christ, you look so fuckin’ soft.”

He doesn’t even realize he’s saying it out loud, not until he catches the flirtatious little grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. You sit up slightly once again and reach behind you to unhook the lingerie and take it off, adding it to the ever growing pile of clothes on the hardwood floor. Licking his lips, he meets your gaze for just a moment before dipping his head down, wrapping them around one of your hardened nipples. “Joel,” you mewl his name as he flicks the pebbled flesh with his tongue.

Joel releases it with a lewd, wet pop and he tosses you a smirk before he moves to the other to give it the same attention. He’s a biter, you find out as he takes it between his teeth, nipping over and over.

Your throbbing center clenches around nothing.

“Joel, please. I need you—I fucking need you.”

He tears away from your nipple. “Where, baby?”

You open your mouth to answer him, but your own gasp cuts you off as he starts trailing his lips down the length of your body until he comes to a stop at the waistband of your skirt. One of his hands finds the zipper on the side and he looks up at you, as if asking for permission. Desperate, you nod. Pulling the zipper down, he slides the skirt, along with the pair of lace white panties you’re wearing off of you and discards them, leaving you completely naked.

Your insecurities begin to trickle in, but Joel’s able to halt them right in their tracks.

“You’re too fuckin’ beautiful, sweetheart,” he says, his reassurance calming your nerves instantly. “So beautiful. So beautiful and so fuckin’ perfect.”

You watch as he makes himself comfortable—well as comfortable as he can—in between your legs. He shoots you a sheepish look.

“Knew I should’a put the damn bed together. But I been puttin’ it off and puttin’ it off all week long.”

You giggle breathlessly. “Who needs a bed?”

Chuckling, Joel feathers a kiss on your inner thigh.

Your smile is all but slapped right off of your face.

“Joel.”

Any traces of humor vanish. You’re both reminded of the next wall that’s about to be broken, the next line that’s about to be crossed.

He looks down and groans. “Such a pretty, perfect little pussy,” he remarks, his voice low, husky. “Bet she’s nice and wet for me, ain’t she baby?” He lifts his hand and drags the tip of his finger up your slit slowly, your slick coating his digit. He smirks up at you. “Oh, she’s fuckin’ soakin’, sweet girl. S’this all for me?”

Foreplay wasn’t in the vocabulary of guys your age and while part of you wishes Joel would hurry, you also find yourself enjoying the fact that he’s taking his time, teasing you—making you really want it to the point where you’re willing to fucking plead him for it. Joel Miller’s the only man you’d ever beg for.

He skims your other thigh with his nose and kisses it just like he’d done with the other. “Tell me darlin’ s’this where you need me? Right here?”

Frantically, you nod your head.

“Words, honey. Gotta use your words for me.”

“Yes!” you choke out. “That’s where I need you. So bad. Need you so fucking bad. Please Daddy—”

You freeze and momentarily, he does too. Truth be told, you wouldn’t really blame him if he just stood up, gathered your clothes and tossed them at you, demanding you put them back on and leave.

Joel raises an eyebrow. “Daddy, huh?”

Your face is on fire. “I—it slipped,” you stammer. “I didn’t mean to call you—I’m so sorry, Joel. I’m not even sure where that came from. I’ve never—”

You’re on the verge of panicking, then notice there is a certain glimmer in his eyes and realize he liked it when you’d called him that. You’re taken aback.

He fucking likes being called Daddy.

“Sweetheart, there ain’t nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout. I promise. You can call me that. But on a condition.”

You stare at him, no idea what the condition could possibly be.

“Ain’t allowed to call anyone else that. Ever.” There is a possessiveness in his tone and it nearly makes you come on the spot. “That understood?”

You nod obediently. “Yes.”

“Yes what?” he prompts.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good. That’s a real good girl, honey.”

For a split second, you can’t breathe.

This man will surely be the death of you.

Joel plants one final kiss, this one on your mound.

“Please,” you whimper, the heat in your lower belly growing and fizzling out to the rest of your body at the feeling of his breath over your aching core.

“Please what?” he murmurs into the sensitive skin as his arms curl around your legs. “Tell Daddy—tell Daddy what you need baby, so he can take care of you.”

“Your mouth,” you beg him, desperation mounting with each passing second. Your hips buck upward; his biceps flex as he tightens his arms around your thighs, pinning you down in place. “Your mouth—I need your mouth. Please.”

Joel moves his head to the junction of your thighs, his mouth hovering right over where you needed it the most. He looks up at you with hunger, like he’s a ravenous, starved man who hasn’t had a thing to eat in days. “What a good girl,” he praises, dipping his head even lower. His mouth waters at the sight of your glistening folds. “Bet you taste as delicious as you fuckin’ look, don’t you, pretty girl?”

He flattens his tongue and glides it up your slit, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs as he gets his first taste. You gasp out when it grazes your swollen, aroused clit and your head falls back onto the couch. “Oh fuck,” you whine, reaching for his hair. You weave your hands through his graying locks and pull his face closer. Another swipe of his tongue causes your back to arch up off the leather and the edges of your vision to blur.

He pulls an arm from around your legs and drags a finger down your drenched entrance, lips securing themselves around your clit. His gaze stays locked on you as he pushes his long, thick digit into you—you feel him smirk as he curls it upwards, pressing the pad of his finger firmly against the soft spongy spot inside you, making you see stars. Joel slips in a second finger and curls it along with the other to double the pleasure. He begins thrusting his digits in and out of your warm cunt, eliciting what had to be the sweetest sounds that he’d ever heard in his entire life from you. He combines it with with slow, firm, and precise stokes of his tongue on your clit.

“Fuck, yes, just like that,” you encourage him, your loud, breathy moans bouncing off the bare, freshly painted walls of his house. “Yes Daddy, fuck—feels so fucking good, please don’t fucking stop—”

It’s not like you have to tell him what to do.

Joel knows exactly what he’s doing, and he knows it too. He listens to every single one of your moans and feels every single buck of your hips. He is sure to pay extra attention to when your hands pull and tug at his curls; he remembers what combinations of licking, sucking, and fucking make you squeeze your plush thighs tighter around his head; reminds himself of which technique brings your body off of the couch, what makes your toes curl. Joel’s quick to learn your body’s cues, each and every last one. He already knows when to give you more, when to give you less—when he needs speed up, when it is time to slow it all down.

You sing his name over and over again, pressure of an orgasm already building between your hips. His tongue swirls around your sensitive little bundle of nerves as his fingers pump in and out of your cunt and you glance down. You almost choke when you catch a tiny glimpse of the muscles in his forearm, the way they flex underneath his skin with each of his movements as he’s fucking you. Your gaze flits to his face. His own eyes are fixed intently on you.

You’re milliseconds away from release.

“Joel, I’m so fucking close. I’m gonna come—”

His arm squeezes your thigh in encouragement.

One last, broad stroke of Joel’s tongue on your clit sends an overwhelming wave of pleasure crashing over you. Strangled cries tear themselves from the back of your throat as your velvet walls flutter and convulse, squeezing his fingers. Joel, who’s face is still half buried in your pussy, takes it upon himself to help you ride through the high. He peppers soft, delicate kisses onto your swollen clit as his fingers continue to slide in and out of you slowly. He waits patiently until your loud cries dissolve into nothing but breathless little whimpers before he crawls up, positioning himself on top of you, a hand on either side of your head. His beard and mustache glisten with a mixture of saliva and slick—and somehow it it ignites another fire and you’re ready for more, so much more.

“Sweet girl,” Joel murmurs. Leaning down, his lips meet yours and you taste yourself on his tongue

You place a hand on his chest, right over his heart, which beats strong and steady against your palm.

You start dragging your hand down his chest, your fingernails raking over his skin. It travels lower and lower, gliding over the softness of his stomach. He tenses when you brush the waistband of his jeans.

Tearing away from you, he grits out, “Baby. No.”

You immediately snatch your hand away from him.

“You changed your mind?” you question, stomach sinking at the thought of it being over already.

You’re just so fucking greedy for this man.

He offers reassurance—and an explanation.

“No, that ain’t it at all. S’just—” Joel pauses briefly and flushes a shade of red. “S’just that, well, I ain’t got condoms on me, darlin’.”

Relieved, you assure him, “It’s okay. I’m clean.”

“Me too. But that ain’t what I’m worried about,” he admits, his face going from red to maroon.

You smile, finding his embarrassment endearing.

“I’m on birth control.”

Joel clenches his hands into fists. His cock strains against his zipper at the thought of it—taking your cunt bare. “Y’sure you want this?” He rasps out. “I need you to be a hundred percent sure ‘bout it.”

“I’m a thousand percent sure, Joel. I fucking need it. More than anything I’ve ever needed in my life.”

That’s all he needed to hear.

Joel stands up, his gaze never leaving your own as he kicks off his black leather boots. You sit up, and it takes every ounce of strength you have in you to remain composed as he unbuckles his belt, unzips his jeans and pushes them down his legs. You bite down on your bottom lip and try not to stare at his bulge like it’s your first time ever seeing a dick, but if he’s as big as he looks in his boxer briefs, maybe this would end up being a lot more than what your body could handle.

He hooks his thumbs underneath the elastic of his boxer briefs and slides them off, allowing his thick, hard cock to spring free from its confinement.

You swallow harshly. He’s fucking massive.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” Joel chuckles at the expression on your face as he kicks aside all of his clothes. His length rests on his lower abdomen and precome smears the skin there. Wrapping one of his hands around it, he gives it a couple strokes, just a hint of relief until you come into play. “Hm?”

Licking your lips, you nod and stand up. You take a couple of wobbling step towards him—Joel’s cock hasn’t been anywhere near you and you’re already fucking walking side to side. “Come here,” you say to him, taking both his hands in your own. You pull him back to the couch and gently guide him down into a sitting position. Swinging your leg over both of his, you straddle his lap. You gingerly place your hands on his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh softly when you feel him brush against your pussy; the contact makes you both moan in unsion. “This okay?” you ask him, breathily. You can’t be sure as to why you’re suddenly feeling a bit shy, like you’re not planning to ride his fucking soul out of him.

“More than okay.” Joel brushes your hair over your shoulder and then drags his hand down the length of your body, committing to his memory every one of your curves. “Gonna be a real good girl and ride my cock, baby?”

You gift him with a cheeky grin. “Yes, Daddy.”

The shyness begins to dissipate and you dive your hand between your bodies, wrapping it around his cock, causing his breath to catch in his throat. You lift yourself slightly off his lap, teasingly gliding the head of his cock down your drenched slit, then up, letting it graze over your clit, which is still senstive to the touch thanks to his lips and tongue.

Joel’s hands find their way around you, running up the curve of your spine. “Wasn’t aware that my girl was such a little fuckin’ tease,” he remarks in a low tone. He slides his hands back down and his large, warm palms cup your ass, fingers kneading flesh.

“Your girl?” you repeat, your heart skipping a beat, stomach fluttering at the idea of being his. “Is that what I am to you, Joel? Your girl?”

“S’that what you want, honey?” Joel whispers, his eyes finding your own, two hopeful gazes meeting in the deepest, most intimate moment that you’ve shared all evening. “Y’wanna be my girl?”

Leaning forward, your reply is preceded by kiss, so soft and so sweet his heart swells inside his chest.

“I do,” you mumble against his lips. “I really do.”

Still gripping your ass, Joel eases you up and lines himself up at your entrance. He bucks his hips and slides the head of his cock past your folds and into your heat. “Breathe, baby,” he whispers, his hands moving to your hips, thumbs grazing your skin. He slowly guides you further down his shaft, grunting as you sink down, taking him inch by inch. “Christ, you’re so goddamn fuckin’ tight—”

The initial stretch is almost too much for you. Your nails sink deeper into his shoulders as he pulls you down further down onto him. “Joel,” you whimper, biting back a loud cry. You’re fully seated, his cock completely sheathed inside you, his head pressing against your cervix. You’re so full of him.

One of his hands abandons your hip and slips over your lower belly.

“This where you’re feelin’ me, pretty girl?” he coos gently. “This where you feel Daddy’s cock? In your belly?”

“Yes,” you sigh out contentedly. “Feels so good.”

You lift yourself off of him, then slide back down in a slow, languid motion.

Joel’s head falls back onto the couch. “Christ.” He mutters the word, his chest heaving. Staring up at the ceiling, he takes a moment to catch his breath and silently wills himself not to explode. Once he’s managed to somewhat compose himself, he looks at you again, pupils blown so wide you can’t find a single trace of brown. “Go on, then,” he rasps. “Go on, sweetheart.”

The living room fills with the sounds of low moans and panting breaths as you move, alternating your maneuvers between rocking and bouncing on him in a frenzied, fast paced rhythm. The friction of his pelvis each time you grind into it winds up the coil between your hips and suddenly you’re desperate, so pathetically desperate for another release.

“Yeah, that’s it baby,” Joel encourages, feeling the beginning of his own climax building quick—much too quick for his liking. “Jus’ like that, honey. What a good girl you are for me, so fuckin’ good for me. Just like I fuckin’ knew you would be.”

“Fuck,” you whine. “You feel so good, Daddy. Feel so fucking good inside me—”

Leaning back, you firmly plant both your hands on his thighs and arch your body, head falling back as you pick up the pace. The burning fire casts a soft, orange glow around you and his jaw falls slack. His eyes drink in every single fucking thing about you, watch you with an adoration that, for the first time in your whole life, makes you feel wanted. Actually wanted.

“Joel,” you whisper his name over and over. You’re both beginning to lose track of where you end and he begins. You can hardly hear the praises that are spilling from his plush lips over the squelching wet sounds of your cunt sliding up and down his cock. There��s no chance to warn him—your mouth parts in a silent scream as you come undone on him.

“M’so fuckin’ close,” Joel grunts. He feels his cock twitch as your pussy grips him like a vice. “Where? Where do you want it, pretty girl?”

“Inside me. Please, I need you to come inside me,” you plead him, the innocent tone of your voice the last thing to push him over the edge he’s teetering on. “Fill me up, Daddy—please, want every drop of you inside me—”

Joel reaches for your arms and yanks you forward, into him. Throwing them around his neck, his own arms wrap around you and roughly slam you down onto him, holding you firmly in place. He bucks his hips upwards, balls tightening, his cock pulsing as he comes. Strings of hissed curse words and deep gutteral groans muffle when he drops his face into your collarbone. Still holding you in place, he spills his load into you, his seed filling you to the brim.

He sags back against the couch and pulls you with him. Wrapping his arms tighter around you, he lets himself stay buried inside of you, the primal in him relishing the heavenly feeling of his come dripping messily out of your pussy and all over his thighs.

“You alright, sweetheart?” he asks after a minute.

“M’perfect,” you mumble against his chest. You’re not sure if it’s because you’re coming down from a high or if it’s because he’s tracing patterns on your shoulder blade with his finger, but you shiver in his arms.

“Let me get the blanket—”

Joel starts to move to get up, but you stop him.

“No, please don’t,” you say, pushing him back. You put all of your weight onto him, as if he can’t move you off to the side if he really wanted to. “I—I want you inside me for a little while longer. Please.”

“But baby, you’re cold—”

You don’t bother explaining to him that you’re not.

“Just hold me. Please.”

And that’s exactly what he does.

Snuggling into him, you close your eyes and Joel’s hand strokes at your hair. Between that, the thrum of his heartbeat against your cheek and the sound of the fireplace crackling behind you, you’re nearly soothed into sleep.

“Joel?”

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“I hate Thanksgiving,” you admit, smiling tiredly to yourself when you feel a laugh rumble in his chest.

“Do you, now?”

You nod. “I do. But I’m really thankful for you.”

Giving you a gentle squeeze, Joel kisses the top of your head and murmurs, “Well, m’thankful for you too, sweet girl.” He pauses momentarily. “I ain’t all too sure how I’m s’pposed to just let you go home. I know I have to but—”

Lifting your head off of his chest, you take the side of his face and cradle it in your palm. You meet his gaze, heart sinking when you see the sadness that has replaced the lust from earlier.

He doesn’t mean home to your parents’ house. He means Chicago.

You graze his beard with your thumb. “I’m coming back in a few weeks,” you remind him, gently. “I’ve only planned to spend a week out here just for the holidays, but I can visit sooner. As soon as the kids go on winter break, I can come back to Austin.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Of course I would, Joel. I’m not sure how it would work what with my parents and all, though. I don’t want them catching onto us.”

“C’mere.” Joel brushes your lips with his before he makes his promise. “I’ll figure it out, baby. Leave it all to me and I’ll figure it out.”

divider credit to @saradika-graphics 🤎

[munson-blurbs]

Summary: Your lab partner, Eddie Munson, might be the most irritating person in your life. But when he unexpectedly comes to your rescue at a party, his chivalry is too hard to resist.

A collaboration with the absurdly talented @corroded-hellfire 🥰

WC: 3.8k

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), fem!Reader, enemies-to-lovers, drinking, Billy Hargrove being a douche, fighting, blood, praise, fingering, accidental voyeurism if you squint, unprotected p in v, fluff because Red & I are some corny motherfuckers

Thank you @blueywrites for your idea that upped the spice 🌶️🌶️ Divider credit to @saradika

“Okay, so we need to mix the magnesium with hydrochloric acid,” you start, carefully measuring each substance and pouring them into a test tube, “and then we light the splint and see if it creates a squeaking noise.”

“Right,” Eddie says, not bothering to hide his disinterest. “And, uh, why are we doing this, exactly?”

You clench your jaw and exhale through your nose. Eddie getting under your skin is bad enough, but if he knew how much he annoyed you, he’d likely double down. 

“We’re testing for the presence of oxygen,” you say with as much patience as you can muster. “And you need to wear safety goggles.”

He rolls his eyes and mimics you in a high-pitched and highly unflattering tone. “You need to wear safety goggles.” 

He reaches for the matches, but you pull them away before he can grab them. 

“I’m serious.”

Eddie scoffs. “Please. We’re not even blowing shit up. Besides, I have a gig tonight, and I’m not getting on stage with goggle marks on my face.”

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll be the difference between your shitty band getting a record deal or not.”

“Whatever.” But he begrudgingly snaps on the protective gear, and you hand over the matchbox and the splint. 

“So just li—seriously?” You watch, dumbfounded, as Eddie strikes a match and uses it to light the cigarette perched between his lips. Where had he kept it this whole time?

“What?” He asks with a smirk. “There’s, like, a million of these left. I’ll use the next one for the experiment thingy.”

He doesn’t get that far; Ms. O’Donnell marches over and yanks out the cigarette, snuffs it in the tray, and orders him to the principal’s office. 

Leaving you to complete your work alone. Again. 

Last week, it was because he’d kicked his feet up on the table and took a swig of Mountain Dew from a beaker. The week before, he’d blown up a rubber glove like a balloon and popped it right in Jason Carver’s ear, causing him to shatter a test tube on the ground. 

You often felt more like a babysitter than a lab partner. 

What you needed was a night out, so the party Steve Harrington was throwing tonight could not come any sooner. It wasn’t your usual scene, but all of your friends were going, and it certainly beat raiding your parents’ liquor cabinet alone. 

Music blasts from an overpriced stereo system as you pull up to Steve’s house. Barely audible over the reverberating bass is the sound of drunken cheering as someone does a kegstand. You sigh, plaster a smile on your face, and make a beeline for the punch bowl. 

Heather Holloway ladles jungle juice into an already pink-stained cup; you’re grateful for at least one kind face in a sea of Hawkins High students and recent graduates. 

“Heather, hi!” You smile at her, plucking a new cup from the stack and filling it nearly to the brim. “How’s college?”

Heather takes a sip, wrinkling her nose at the vodka’s pungency. “Way better than high school,” she says with a laugh. “I’m taking an intro to biochem, and my lab partner actually shows up.”

You raise your glass in a mock toast. “Maybe you could take mine. He’s more trouble than he’s worth.”

She laughs. “Can’t be worse than when I was stuck with The Freak last year. He never showed up to class.” 

“Really?”

“Mhm. And Ginny Anderson was his lab partner during his first senior year, and he pulled the same shit.”

Lucky them, you think wryly. Guess he decided to be a star student for his third go-around. 

Frat boy-style cheering echoes from behind you and when you spin around you see Billy Hargrove strutting through the crowd, towards the kitchen. He throws a wink to a few girls and slaps five to one of the guys on the basketball team. If he’s coming into the kitchen, it’s the last place you want to be.

The living room is smoky and loud, but it beats getting stuck next to the booze with a jackass like Hargrove. Every thump of the bass has the little sips of alcohol you’ve taken sloshing around in your stomach. It’s hard to tell where you’re going or even what direction you’re going with so many people, so you just keep wading through groups until finally you come upon some space to breathe. 

Unfortunately, this space brings you right back to where you began: in front of the kitchen. Just in time for Billy to sidle up next to you, the scent of whiskey and tangy cologne wafting off of him in waves. 

“Where have you been all my life?” he asks, as if it’s supposed to be charming instead of nausea-inducing. 

“Was better a second ago,” you mumble, not caring if he hears you or not. But when you move to step away from the blonde, the smarmy look slips from his too-pretty face and is replaced with a mask of set determination. 

Strong fingers curl around your wrist, just tight enough to cause the barest amount of pain. The audacity and possessiveness are what piss you off the most, though. 

A gentle tug of your arm does nothing to free it from his grip, so you try a little harder. Still nothing.

“Let go,” you seethe. The words are biting, but you’re a chihuahua up against a doberman. 

Somehow, above your pulse pounding in your ears and the music thumping throughout the large house, you hear the distinct clang of a metal lunchbox snap shut and heavy boots on polished wood floors headed in your direction. 

You sense Eddie over your shoulder before he appears in your peripheral vision. A moment hangs in the air where he and Billy stare at one another, and you watch them both, unsure of what is about to happen. 

Eddie steels his jaw, unmoving. “Let her go,” he says, a slight rasp in his tone. 

The jock remains unfazed, unthreatened. “Shouldn’t you be worshiping Satan’s asshole, Freak?”

“Shouldn’t you be worshiping Tommy’s? Or does he only worship yours?”

A cacophony of laughter stirs up an anger inside of Billy. He grabs Eddie by the jacket collar and slams him against the counter. “If you don’t fuck off in the next three seconds, I’ll kick you ass so hard that your uncle won’t even be able to identify your body.”

Eddie smirks. “One…two—”

Billy’s fist crashes into Eddie’s cheek with a sickening crack. Eddie returns with a punch to Billy’s abdomen, but not before his face sustains a few more hits. 

Shock loosens its grasp on you and you call out for help, knowing it’s no use getting in the middle of their brawl. Someone—Tommy H, maybe—is chanting “fight!” and it takes all of your willpower not to clock him yourself. 

Billy finally lets up when Eddie falls to the floor, clutching his stomach in agony. “Maybe next time, you’ll mind your fucking business,” he spits through his split lip—one of the few punches Eddie managed to land. 

His smarminess is enough to provoke a reflexive response in you. As he gloats, you deliver a swift kick square to his crotch. A choked whine slips from Billy’s parted lips as he doubles over. You snort a laugh to yourself thinking about how the dumbbell is probably going to spin this story so he doesn’t seem like any less than the King of Hawkins High in front of his fellow party-goers. He’ll never be able to take away your satisfaction at using a pair of your nicest shoes to crush Billy’s balls though. 

Eddie is still on the ground, wiping blood that’s trickled out of his right nostril onto the back of his sleeve. Turning your back to Billy, you bend down and offer your hand to Eddie. He accepts it with a weak smile and you help him to his feet. 

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Eddie says with a shrug and a sad smile that knots your stomach. He’s been hurt worse than this?

Unable to follow that train of thought, you reach out and slip your hand into Eddie’s. You give a small tug and he readily follows you down the hall of the Harrington home, the thumping beat of the bass becoming softer the further you walk. 

In the back corner of the house you manage to find a bathroom that’s not occupied by someone puking the mixture of alcohol they’ve consumed or a couple hooking up, going at it like wild animals. This one looks like it’s been hardly touched all night and you click the lock into place once you and Eddie are inside. 

Eddie takes a seat on the closed toilet lid, his calloused fingers coming up to gently touch the gash right across his chin. He winces at the tenderness of the wound while you crouch down and look in the cabinets underneath the sink for a first aid kit. 

“Ah, here we are,” you announce as you pull out the small white box with the red cross on it. On your knees, you shuffle over towards Eddie and slide the kit along with you. “It’s not so bad,” you tell Eddie as you dab some rubbing alcohol on a small swath of gauze. “The face just bleeds more because—”

“Because the blood vessels in the face are so close to the skin,” Eddie finishes for you. 

“Wow,” you say, raising your eyebrows at him. “I’m impressed.”

“We are in the same science class, you know,” Eddie teases with a playful smirk. It quickly turns to a grimace though as you begin to dab at his wounds. 

“I thought I recognized you from the seat next to mine,” you joke back. There’s silence for a few moments while you clean off all the excess blood and bandage up the open cuts. “Why are you suddenly interested in science this year? I mean, I was talking to Heather before and she said you never showed up when you were her lab partner. So, what? Renewed attempt to graduate?”

“Uh,” Eddie says with an awkward chuckle. He avoids your eyes and rubs his hand along the back of his neck. “Something like that.”

“Got the hots for O’Donnell?”

He belly laughs at that thought, grimacing at the pain it causes. “Fuck, no!” He shakes his head. “She looks like a walrus and a naked mole rat had some sort of freaky baby.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Ew.”

“You were the one who suggested I’m into her,” Eddie rebutted, and fairly so. 

“I didn’t make you compare her to a—”

A loud crash stops you mid-sentence, followed by someone drunkenly lamenting, “not the punch!”

“We’re probably safer hiding out in here for a bit,” Eddie says softly, “unless you want to volunteer to clean up whatever mess they made.”

“I think cleaning up your mess is more than enough for tonight.” To punctuate your point, you swipe a clean piece of gauze over a small cut you’d previously missed. “Besides, I wanna know what’s suddenly got you showing up to class.”

Eddie’s eyes roam your body far more conspicuously than he’d like, but the attention fills you with a newfound warmth. “You.” He snorts out a little laugh, startling you slightly. “Fuck, I’m drunker than I thought.”

“W-Wait.” You fight off the embarrassment that accompanies your stuttered words. “I’m the reason …?”

He noticed your reaction, mistaking disbelief for discomfort. “Does that make things…does that make you feel weird?” Nerves marr whatever joking tone he was trying to convey. 

All you can do is shake your head. “No. It makes things…good.” Good insufficiently describes your reaction, though part of you waits for the other shoe to drop. It’s a prank, his way of getting back at you for—

A hooked finger in the belt loop of your jeans snags your attention, Eddie gently tugging you closer to him. “And now?”

“Still good. Better, actually.” Resting one hand on his sore chest, you lean in and add, “will it hurt if I kiss you?”

“Don’t care.”

Despite him not caring, you certainly care if you’re going to hurt him or not. Your mouth moves slowly towards his, lips just barely brushing against each other as your breaths co-mingle. It’s not enough for Eddie though, and he presses his lips against yours with more force, stealing the air from your lungs as your body melts against his. The back bathroom at the Harrington household is not something you would’ve considered romantic before, but right now it’s the only place you want to be. Tucked away in the corner with Eddie, trading explorative kisses as your hands roam each other's bodies. 

Your body buzzes when Eddie’s tongue sweeps against yours, heat immediately pooling between your legs. 

Instinctively, gingerly, you press your torso to his, one trembling finger hooking into his belt loop. A moan escapes you, soft but saturated with need. Eddie clocks it immediately. 

“Mhm.” His smile threatens to break the kiss. “That’s it.” 

You feel the button of your jeans unfasten, the sound of unzipping music to your ears. His hand slips between the denim and the newly exposed lace of your panties, grin widening when it reaches the damp patch. 

Eddie’s hardness strains against the confines of his own pants, and you rush to relieve that ache. His exhale when you touch him—over his boxers, but not as gently as he touches you—makes you even wetter. 

“Gotta have you.” He toys with your waistband but doesn’t explore further until he hears your ‘yes,’ pathetic and whimpering but consent nonetheless. “Good girl,” he growls, sending a shiver coursing through you. 

The pads of his fingertips find your clit without struggle, rubbing precise circles over it that have you groaning his name. “Every time you say my name from now on,” he murmurs, “I’m gonna think about this.”

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.” It’s part taunt and part truth; only his name is on your mind. Your back arches against the sink, porcelain digging into your skin, but you barely notice. 

One strong hand reaches for the strap of your tank top, pulling it down so harshly that the fabric tears. He mutters a soft swear, tugs the rest of the shirt down until your bra is completely visible. 

“Fuckin’ perfect.” Eddie kisses your chest, groaning when the sensation of his lips causes you to squeeze his throbbing cock. “Careful, or I’ll—”

He’s interrupted by the door swinging wide open, Billy and Heather wrapped around each other in drunken lust. Billy’s eyes widen, their blueness dulled from the liquor, when he sees that the bathroom is currently occupied—and by whom. 

The intrusion startles you as well, but you’re much quicker at recovering than the inebriated asshole gaping at you from the doorway.

“Get the fuck out!” you hiss. 

Heather turns her head to look in your direction, as if she hadn't been aware there was anyone else in the bathroom until you’d spoken up. It’s clear she’s had quite a few more drinks since you’d seen her in the kitchen.

Whether it’s the alcohol, the shock, or his own stupidity, Billy doesn’t make a move towards leaving, let alone tug Heather along with him. The blonde shakes a few curls out of his eyes, causing Heather to reach up and twirl one around her finger.

“Jesus Christ, is this douche even capable of hearing a woman if she isn’t moaning his name?” Eddie mutters to you before rounding on the drunken pair and raising his voice. “The lady said out. Now.” 

Something finally snaps Billy out of his dazed state and he curls his lip, giving the two of you a half-hearted sneer. He pulls Heather out of the doorway so quickly that it looks like she gets whiplash as he slams the door closed behind them. 

Eddie leans over and locks the door, giving the knob a twist for good measure. “Do me a favor, honey?” His voice is a ribbon of silk down your spine. “Turn around so you’re facing the mirror.”

You do as he says, hands planted on the sink ledge. Your shirt is torn, make-up smudged, and you’re out of breath from the impromptu make out session. Ducking your head, you’re determined to avoid your reflection until tobacco-scented words tickle your ear from behind. 

“Be a good girl and look at yourself while I fuck you.” Eddie moves your thong over, exposing your pussy, and exhales with a tremble. His middle finger glides over your folds before pushing into you slowly. “You got wetter when I called you a good girl, didn’t you?”

“Mhm,” you manage, stifling a moan as his ring finger joins his middle. 

A teasing pout graces Eddie’s lips. “Such a good girl. And only for me.”

“Only for you,” you echo. 

He taps the head of his cock on your bare ass, leaving drops of pre-cum in his wake. “Gotta be inside you,” he growls. “Gotta fuckin’ feel what a good girl you are.”

The sensation of his cock dragging down along your folds mixed with him knowing just what to say to get you squirming has you dropping your head forward with a soft whimper. A strong, calloused hand quickly finds its way up to your throat though, and presses with just enough pressure to remind you that you’re supposed to be looking at yourself in the mirror. 

When you lift your head, you’re greeted by the sight of a smirking Eddie behind you in the mirror.

“Atta girl,” he praises. 

At a torturously slow pace, Eddie begins to push inside of you. A guttural groan slips past your gritted teeth as he stretches your walls, the pleasure causing you to curl your toes inside your shoes.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes out before pulling his hips back. “Pussy’s even tighter than I imagined.”

The mental image of Eddie laying in bed with his hand wrapped around his cock, thinking of you is enough to make your knees weak. They can’t buckle too much; Eddie has one hand gripping you tight and the other trailing down to your clit. Each deliberate circle is punctuated by a thrust, pleasure from every angle. 

He kisses your shoulder blade, groaning when you tighten around him. “Look at yourself,” he growls his reminder. “Look how beautiful you are, all fucked out like this.”

You catch another glimpse; this time, you see Eddie’s lust-filled expression along with your own. He’s even further gone than you are, so focused on burying himself within you to care about the sweat matting his bangs to his forehead or the way his teeth dig into his lower lip. 

“Say it.” His voice is half-commanding, half-pleading. 

“S-Say what?” Each word is a struggle, your orgasm building to a peak you’d never before reached. 

“That you’re beautiful.” He tugs you even closer to him, and there’s no mistaking his dominance for anything else. “So—goddamn—beautiful.”

You follow his order without a second thought. “I’m b-beautiful, all fucked out like th-this.” 

Eddie’s hips snap against the plush of your ass at a frenetic pace. “That’s it; that’s my good girl.” Not a good girl, you note. His good girl. 

One hand atop his, desperate for as much contact as possible, you moan: “your good girl.”

“Oh, fuck.” Everything is you—you and him together, and it drives him to the edge. “You…you gotta…’m so close,” he rambles. 

“Me, too.” Panting breaths mingle with his groans, your walls tightening around him as you come. It’s so much, so intense, and tears cloud your vision resulting from the overwhelming bliss. “Eddie, oh, Eddie.”

He spills into you with a cry of your name. “H-ohmygod, holy fuckin’ shit.” His thrusts don’t stop until every last drop of his cum is inside you. 

Eddie’s chest presses against your back, but he’s careful not to put all his weight on you. The feeling of him so solid and warm behind lulls you from pure ecstasy to warm contentment, not wanting to move out from beneath him. 

A few silent moments pass before Eddie pulls out of you, both of you disappointed by the loss of contact. But Eddie’s hands refuse to let you go entirely, gently running over your hips and up your sides. The touch is featherlight and sends a comforting tingle throughout your limbs.

“You with me?” Eddie’s worn-out voice asks you.

“Mhmm,” you hum in acknowledgment. “Don’t wanna move.”

Eddie gives a husky chuckle in reply before he stands up, reluctantly taking a step away from you. Your own muscles whine in protest as you stand straight, the tell-tale signs of a good fucking already settling in. 

The two of you begin to clean up, each slipping back into articles of clothing along the way. One question prickles the back of your mind in the quiet room and you know your brain won’t be able to rest until it has an answer.

“Uh, Eddie?” you ask once you’ve cleaned up your smeared lipstick.

“Yeah?”

“Are you still going to come to class? Or, you know, now that you’ve had me you won’t have a reason to anymore?” You try to hide the insecurity in your tone but there was no mistaking the slight edge your words had. 

Eddie pauses mid-buckling his belt and gives you a frown. 

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says and the nickname alone already has your engine revving for a round two. “I wouldn’t sit through O’Donnell’s class for someone I only wanted to fuck. If I’m gonna listen to that hag drone on and on then there’s a damn good reason I’m sitting my ass in that classroom.” With a sigh, Eddie steps closer to you and after a moment’s hesitation, cups your face in his hands. “Can I take you out? Do things, ya know, the right way?”

A little trill of a giggle bursts out of you, which makes Eddie frown. But you’re quick to let him in on what you found amusing.

“You mean having sex in a bathroom at Steve Harrington’s house isn’t the typical way romances start?”

A grin slowly slides across Eddie’s mouth and you swear it’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. All you want to do is keep that smile on his handsome face as much as you possibly can. 

“A romance, huh?” He clicks his tongue. “If I’d known that’s what this was, I would’ve at least fucked you in a guest room.”

You let your fingers brush over the fly of his jeans, feeling a gentle twitch from behind the zipper. “How about for round two?”

Eddie holds your face in his hands as he kisses you deeply, only breaking it to smile and murmur: 

“You read my mind, Beautiful.”

--

[secretsofafangirll]

video star

summary: the time when Olivia appeared in a blind, deaf, mute baking video with the triplets and Matt couldn't keep his hands to himself.

warnings: touchiness in front of people/on camera, suggestive language, suggestive content, use of pet names.

a/n: the song doesn't have any significance, it just plays in o.c.'s headphones.

"Hey guys, welcome back to another Wednesday video," Nick blurted at the camera posed several feet in front of them, "Today we're doing another Deaf, Blind, Mute Baking Challenge."

"However," Chris butted in, sticking a mocking finger in the air, "We have a special guest for today's video," He drawled out and looked off to the side where I was standing. Matt was still leaning back against the counter and smiled at me.

"Come on out, sweetheart." Matt beckoned me over with a flick of his fingers and a nod of his head. I jumped into frame and smiled at the camera.

"Hi guys!" I waved enthusiastically and placed my hands on the counter in front of me.

"For those of you who don't know, Olivia is our best friend in the whole world and Matt's girlfriend. If you didn't know that, you've obviously never watched a video because she's in all of our vlogs and we never shut up about her." Nick summed up the basics for the viewers at home.

I've been friends with the triplets since my freshman year of high school. Chris and I instantly clicked one day in Math when our more extroverted personalities found their ways to one another. He introduced me to his two triplet brothers at lunch that same day, and the rest was history. We became inseparable and spent every second of every day together since. Things became interesting with Matt and me as we got older and grew into ourselves but we officially started dating after we graduated high school. We were always scared to announce our relationship to his fans because they can be volatile to their female friends, but once we did and they accepted that we loved each other, we've been so open and comfortable expressing that love physically on camera.

"So, how this is gonna work is..we're gonna draw out of a hat and three people are gonna be either blind, deaf, or mute and one person won't be able to use their hands. Let's hope that person isn't Olivia, because she's the only one of us that really can bake, like at all," Chris addressed the room and the camera.

"Dude, if I get fucking handcuffed, this is gonna be awful," I raised my brows and turned to Chris.

"Have a little faith, kid," Chris bumped my hip with his. I heard the car keys rattle on Matt's belt loop as he pressed himself away from the counter and came up behind me to wrap his arms around my neck. My hands subconsciously reached up to grip his muscular forearms.

"Alright, well, let's get the fuck on with it," Matt spoke.

"Okay, relax. We've been rolling for two fucking minutes." Nick stuck an accusatory hand up at Matt.

Nick reached around the counter for the hat and we all drew a card.

"Matt, you say yours first," Nick assigned.

"Mute," Matt chuckled, "Too easy."

"Deaf," I read aloud, "Yay! I just get to listen to music." I ran over to the couch and grabbed my headphones, working to connect them to my phone and find a playlist.

"Noo!," Chris whined, "Handcuffed."

"Loser", Nick teased.

"Which means that I am blind." Nick concluded, "Olivia wanted to bake something from scratch but that's a bit too hard for us, so we just got boxed brownies with, like, an extra cookie thing that we have to do too."

As Nick started to read off the contents of the box, I placed the headphones over my ears and pressed "shuffle" on Spotify. The first song to grace my ears was "B.Y.O.B" by System of a Down. A loud, scream-y nu-metal jam to deafen my sensitive ears. If I listened to anything too quiet, I'd be able to hear them. I watched as Matt tied the blindfold onto Nick and then Chris tied the bandana onto Matt. Matt then locked the handcuffs onto Chris' wrists behind his back.

I watched as the three of them tried to talk to each other, myself trying to read their lips and body language. I knew Matt well enough to know he was frustrated and Chris well enough to know he was giving Nick directions.

Quickly, when they started to struggle too much, they called me over. However, my eyes were closed as I mouthed the words to the song and I couldn't hear them.

"Everybody's going to the party have a real good time," I sang with Serj and wagged my finger to the Ooh.

What made me open my eyes was Matt pushing a hand against my lower back to guide me to the counter. The sudden jolt and touch startled me and I lurched forward, almost falling into the hard counter top face first. Matt's hand quickly shot and gripped my waist, pulling me back into him.

"Oh my God!" I yelped, my hands shooting out in front of myself to stop me before he did. He spun me around in his hands and I placed my extended hands on his chest, "Thank you!" I yelled, unaware of my volume. He just pressed a finger to my lips to tell me to be quieter. I whispered a faint apology in return.

I looked over to Chris who was probably spewing some bullshit at us about how cheesy we are, seeing as how his left cheek flexed up slightly in annoyance. Matt ushered me over to the counter where they handed me the box to try and fix what they already messed up. I took one look at the batter and knew they added too much oil.

"Okay," I started, "I think you guys just put too much oil, but it's not hard to fix. I just need a dehydrator like flour or cornstarch to dry out the oil." I turned around to grab the flour from the cabinets that I stock for them, because if I didn't they'd either starve or waste all of their money on eating out.

Due to my shorter stature, I had to stand on my tip toes and stretch the life out of my arms to reach the flour. Matt came up behind me and placed a hand on my side to tell me to relax and he reached up and grabbed it for me. I thanked him before turning around and continuing to mix the brownies, Matt's front just brushed my back the whole time as he watched over my shoulder, his hand resting gently on my hip.

Once I was done with the brownies, I needed to grab a bowl for the cookie part. I wasn't planning on making it, since it's supposed to be a challenge, but I still grabbed the equipment needed. I bent down in front of Matt to grab a smaller bowl from the cabinet below the island. When I leaned over, I didn't realize two things; one, how close I was to Matt and what he wouldn't be able to resist doing when he noticed the position we were in, two, how it would look on camera.

Both of Matt's hands found my hips when I unexpectedly stuck my ass into the air right in front of his dick and he subconsciously pressed himself a tiny bit further into me. Soon, his hand left my hip and it braced itself on the counter above my head so that I wouldn't hit the counter when I got back up.

"Okay, so you guys need to do this, because this is supposed to be your guys' challenge." I started clearly over the sound of Evanescence’s "Going Under”. I sang the words under my breath as I turned away to let them do what they needed to do. I hopped up onto the counter behind them and enjoyed my music as I watched them yell at each other.

At least I thought they were yelling at each other...

Turns out they were yelling at me to preheat the oven that I was sitting next to. I watched as Matt stepped closer to me. He placed his hands on my thighs and nodded to the oven dials. I quickly understood and turned the dial to 350 degrees. Matt's eyes darted all across my face and down my body that was only clothed in shorts and a tank top due to the intense Los Angeles heat. I knew exactly what look he was giving me and it was killing him that he couldn't kiss me.

"Later," I mouthed to him and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. He dropped his head to my shoulder and I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulder to squeeze him into me.

Soon after, the brownies had made it out of the oven safely and we were all stripped of our sense-depriving shackles. I was kind of disappointed to be done with the music, but I missed hearing my favorite boys talk.

"Okay, the brownies are done and they look fine," Nick began to the camera, "But we did fuck them up a little bit, so hopefully Olivia's fix was okay."

"Bro, she's literally a professional chef at this point, I'm sure they're still gonna be great," Chris said matter-of-factly. Nick began to cut the brownies, which they should've baked on parchment paper, and got a piece for all of us. He slid it in front of me and we all tried a bite. They still tasted great and they looked like boxes.

"Obviously, if it were up to me, we wouldn't have boxed anything, but for a boxed brownie mix," Matt came up and hugged me from behind and my hands fell to his that wrapped around me, "I would give this is a solid 8 out of 10." I said giving a thumbs up with the camera.

When they had all given their notes and feedback, they said goodbye to the camera and turned it off.

"You guys need to practice a little something called self-control, you horny fucks," Said Nick as he shook his head and took down the filming equipment. 

"Shut the fuck up, Nick," Matt spat as he pulled me closer, "Hi, my girl. D'you have fun?" He asked, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

I pulled back slightly and leaned up to kiss his lips, "Mhm. I always have fun filming with you guys." I smiled up at his stunning face.

"What'd you listen to?" He asked, pulling away from the hug to reach over and grab a cup from the cabinet, but keeping a hand on my waist. I turned to watch him as he got what he needed.

"I listened to System of a Down and Evanescence. I wish that, like, Nirvana or something came on though." I sighed and looked down for a moment before focusing my attention back on him.

"S'nice. I need to branch out, broaden my musical horizons," He said as he filled his cup with water from the fridge.

"And your kitchen horizons, because, my God, you guys suck at baking." I teased exasperatedely.

"Hey, watch yourself," He tutted, "They suck at baking, I, on the other hand, can whip up a good dessert."

"Alright, mister, I bought already-been-smoked salmon and tried to cook it anyway, Sturniolo." I accused, rolling my eyes jokingly.

"Oh, yeah? You want to play it that way?" He smiled smugly and slowly stepped toward me, setting his water down on the kitchen island.

I backed away in response and put my hands up in defense, "I'm not playing anything. M'just sayin' it how it is. S'not my fault your egos too big."

"You little-," He cut himself off and reached for me. A high-pitched yelp escaped my mouth as I dodged his hand and I backed away from him before running to his bedroom. I might be more agile than him, but his legs are much longer than mine. He caught up to me as I was trying to slam his door shut, and he stopped the door before I could close it. He swooped in quickly, picked me up, and tossed me onto the bed, kicking the door shut somewhere in between.

"Matt!" I giggled, as I sat up, bracing my hands behind me. He crawled onto the bed in front of me and shoved my chest back down.

"Those brownies might have been good," He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss right below my ear, "But I know you're gonna taste even better," He whispered into my ear and began to trail a path of open-mouthed kisses down my neck...

//

author's note: alright...how'd we like it? I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it, but I wanted to put something out. I liked the concept but I'm unsure of how it turned out. let me know what you guys think.

all the love, she <3

[rafeandonlyrafe]

purity ring

words: 2.5k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, reader is virgin and religious, purity rings/waiting until marriage, virginity/innocence kink, female receiving oral, fingering, p in v sex, protected sex <3 (yay! for once!), one scene takes place in a church

you are perfect. an innocent angel, untouched by anyone. you wore a silver purity ring firmly on your finger, gifted to you by your father on your 16th birthday. you don’t take the promise you made that day lightly, and while you have had one serious boyfriend in high school, you have remained abstinent. 

rafe overlooked you at first, seeing you as a sweet harmless girl, but didn’t take any real interest until you grew out of your teen years, your body developing without him realizing until he saw you at the beach one day, wearing what would be a modest swimsuit if it wasn’t for you wide hips and large breasts, threatening to spill out even with your high neckline.

rafe took a liking to you right then and there. he knows how pure you are, how you are a proud virgin and don’t partake in any of the partying or drinking like most of the people your age, even though you are over 21. it may be legal, but you always say it doesn’t feel right, and only have a bit of wine at dinner on occasions.

“hello.” rafe says as he sits down on the church pew next to you. you give him a confused look. you have never seen rafe at your church before, and you thought that he wasn’t religious, but you are never one to judge, so you wipe the confused look off your face and give him a pleasant smile instead.

“hello, rafe. it’s been a while.” “i know, haven’t really seen you since high school.” he says. 

“i don’t think we have the same interests.” you giggle. if you were more into partying, you’re sure you would see rafe a whole lot more often. 

“really?” rafe questions. “you didn’t develop a love for golf since we graduated?”

you scoff, shaking your head. rafe smiles at you, and you are surprised to find yourself liking his attention.

“how about mini golf?” he asks. “i could take you after the service. get ice cream too.”

you go to say no, not wanting to hang out with someone as wild and crazy as him, but you remember your vow to god to not judge others, and end up agreeing.

rafe smirks at you when the pastor starts his sermon and you turn your attention away from rafe. 

hes sweet throughout the whole date, respectful of your boundaries and chatting with you with seemingly real interest. he asks you when you finish all 18 holes of mini golf if you’d be willing to see him again.

you say yes, which leads to more and more dates until you’re comfortable with rafe, even going as far to officially begin courting him.

you fall head over heels, in love with the attention he gives you until you're kissing in the back seat of his truck, his hands moving all over your body.

“wait, rafe-” you pull away with a gasp. “we can't.”

rafe frowns but nods. he's been progressing the physical touch more and more, trying to get you to open up to him, but every time things start to get hot and heavy, you stop him.

he is determined to change things, especially when he realizes he's lost sight of why he became interested in you in the first place. he wants to claim you, not just court you, and he's quickly falling just as hard.

rafe convinces you to spend the night. a movie marathon and cuddle session. you tell rafe that you need a separate bed to sleep in, but he's hoping to convince you to share one with him.

rafe ignores the movie playing on the tv, his head buried in your shoulder, pressing kisses to your neck.

“rafey.” you giggle and squirm when he sucks a spot onto your neck.

“come on, baby.” rafe begs, moving to kiss your jaw. “haven't i proven how serious i am about us?” he questions, his hand resting on your thigh, pushing it closer to your core. you can't help the moan that escapes your lips, your body betraying your mind.

“just let me make you feel good. you'll love it, i promise.”

you think it over, briefly glancing at the ring on your finger, at the promise you made.

“baby.” rafe cups your hand in his, taking the ring out of your sight as he captures your mouth in a kiss.

he moves so you're laying down against his pillows, covering your body with his, hovering over top of you.

he moves one hand to under your knee, pulling it so you have to wrap it around his waist. rafe keeps kissing you, keeps you breathless and dizzy as he presses his hips into you, letting his hard length rub over your core.

you moan into his mouth, looping your arms around his shoulders.

“please.” rafe says against your lips. you blink your eyes open to meet his bright blue ones. “i love you baby.”

you melt at rafes word, giving him a nod of permission. “i love you too.” you coo.

rafe presses his lips against yours, letting you get lost in the kiss as he continues to grind into you. he can tell from the way your other leg loops around him that you like the feeling a lot.

rafe lets a hand wander underneath your top, feeling the smooth skin of your stomach before moving higher, cupping your breast over your bra.

you reach behind your back and unclip it, letting rafe continue to feel you up as you take the bra off from under your shirt, tugging it away. 

rafe grips your breast, toying with your nipple immediately, not letting you think too hard about what he's doing, needing to keep you focused on what new part he's touching.

he makes sure to give both sides of your chest equal attention. he wishes he could pull away from the kiss and rip your shirt off, wanting to see your tits bare, but you keep your arms locked around his shoulders as you kiss.

“baby, i can make you feel even better with my mouth.” rafe says, pressing kisses to your cheek.

“n… no.” you whine. “don't want you to look.” you feel enough shame as it is letting rafe defile you this way, and you certainly aren't confident enough to have him seeing you naked.

“how about i turn the tv off?” rafe offers. the light is already off in the room, and theres only a bit of moonlight peaking through the drawn curtains, the tv providing all the light in the room. you nod as he reaches for the remote, clicking the movie off.

“wait-” you realize that he's forgetting something. “you need to use a condom.” while you may be giving up your virginity to rafe, you certainly will not be letting him get you pregnant before marriage.

“yeah.” rafe fumbles in the dark through his nightstand, pulling a condom out and setting it on the bed for when he's ready.

rafe leaves your shirt on, hoping it will make you feel more comfortable as he tugs on your pajama shorts. it's a bit of a fumble in the dark, but he eventually gets them off. 

he reaches for your underwear next, feeling the frilly fabric against his fingers. rafe has to pause before taking them off to squeeze his cock through his pants, needing relief. he's finally so close to his goal, finally close to taking you, to being your first. 

“just tell me if anything hurts.” rafe says, taking two fingers and running them through your slit, feeling how wet he's made you.

“rafe!” you shout. 

“does it feel good baby?” rafe asks, pressing a finger against your entrance, needing to open you up quickly before he can't control himself and hurts you by forcing his cock inside you too soon.

“yeah, feels really good.” you moan out. rafe moves his thumb to your clit, glad he knows pussies well enough to find it easily in the dark. he let's the sudden overwhelming pleasure take over your mind as he plunges his finger in.

he can't help the groan he lets out when he feels your tightness wrap around his digit. he begins to pump his finger, his thumb continuing to massage your clit, smiling at your nonstop moans. he's sure that you've never even touched yourself before by your reaction.

rafe drops himself onto his stomach between your legs, needing to have your sweetness on his tongue. he swears you taste better as he licks around your folds, knowing that you haven't been sullied by other men.

he moves his thumb in favor of licking at your clit, pushing a second finger into your cunt as soon as he feels a bit of give.

you reach down, gripping rafes hair in your hands. you push his face further into your pussy, his fingers stretching you out when he begins to scissor them.

“can't wait to be inside you.” rafe says, his voice vibrating against your skin.

“want you now.” you tell rafe. you need more than just his fingers pumping into you, need to feel connected in the most intimate way possible. 

rafe moves quick, shucking his pajamas and underwear off. his cock is finally freed. he takes your hand in his, wrapping it around his shaft while he kneels against the bed. 

you aren't fully sure what to do to make rafe feel good, but you stroke your hand up and down, and judging from the sound rafe makes, it feels good.

rafe can feel your purity ring as you stroke him. he grabs the condom and takes it out of its wrapping, pushing your hand out of the way as he slides the rubber over his cock.

“gonna take you in this position, as long as it feels good.” rafe says, moving back between your legs. he gets a pillow and shoved it under your hips, raising them up and hopefully making it easier for you to take him.

“rafey.” you whine, hand reaching out for his. rafe loops his fingers through yours, using his other hand to line his cock up with your entrance. rafe moves slowly, his breathing heavy and deliberate as he splits you open, his heavy cock touching places no one has ever gone before.

“does it hurt?” rafe asks once he's seated all the way inside of you. 

you whine in response, causing rafe to frown. as much as he wants to make you his, he doesn't want to put you in any sort of pain. he leans over your body, pressing his lips to your cheeks.

“im sorry baby, but you're doing so good for me.”

“just-” you gasp when you move your hips a little, making him touch a new part of you. “just give me a minute.”

“take your time.” rafe says. “i love you.” he thought he was just saying it to get you into his bed, but rafe finds himself really meaning it.

you breathe deeply for a minute before pressing your lips to rafes. “you can move now.”

rafe hums against your lips, continuing to kiss you as he begins with gentle thrusts, wanting to build you up. he finds much more patience within himself now that he's been inside of you.

you move your arms back to rafes shoulders, pressing your nails into his back, dragging them down his back when his thrusts increase in tempo.

“scratching me already? what a dirty girl.” rafe chuckles into your ear.

“shh.” you complain, brows scrunching together, not wanting to think about how dirty you are being at the moment, wanting to focus on how good rafe is making you feel rather than the fact that you're letting go of your virtue.

“my innocent little girlfriend, squeezing around my cock.” rafe continues to tease you.

“it feels so good.” you say, as if it's some sort of excuse as to why your cunt is repeatedly pulsing around his dick.

“i know it does baby. your pussy feels so good too. so tight for me, my little virgin.” rafe presses his lips against yours in a kiss. “although i guess you're not a virgin anymore.”

you cry out when rafe presses his thumb back to your clit, whatever response you had brewing cut off as he begins to thrust with earnest now, able to slide in much easier than when he first got inside of you.

“gonna cum for me?” rafe questions. he can tell from the way your body has gone tight that you must be close.

“i-i think so.” you whine, feeling a rush of wetness flood to your pussy, rafes thumb pushing your clit perfectly as your orgasm rushes over your body, a loud moan forcing its way out of your mouth, your entire body shaking with the force. 

your cunt is squeezing so tightly rafe almost can't thrust his cock back into you, but he manages to force himself through your walls to release into the condom deep into you, your pussy milking him. you would surely be bred if it wasn't for the thin layer of rubber.

rafe pulls his cock out slowly as you breathe deeply underneath him, coming down from the ecstacy that he just brought you to.

rafe moves to pull his condom off, discarding it in the trash.

“can we put our pajamas back on to sleep?” you ask as rafe begins to get back into bed. he can't help but smile at you, still so shy even after he had his mouth buried between your legs.

“of course.” rafe gives you your underwear and shorts back, eyes adjusted somewhat to the dark, but still not able to make out many details as he redresses himself, but leaves his shirt off.

rafe slides into bed next to you, pulling you in close. you fall asleep almost instantly, which rafe is glad about, not giving you a moment to regret what just happened on a tired brain.

rafe hears your breathing change and grabs your hand, sliding your silver purity ring off your finger. it's his now.

you don't overthink the act when you wake up in the morning, especially when rafe sinks to his stomach and eats you out in the morning light until you cum on his tongue.

you even go as far to thank him for showing you how good sex can be for a couple. you are certain rafe will become your husband, and you suppose you are just starting your martial acts early. 

you are walking with rafe through a crowded restaurant the next day. he's treating you to a nice dinner when you realize he has a silver chain hanging off his neck.

you furrow your brow, tugging it out from underneath his shirt, gasping when you realize that your purity ring is hanging around his neck.

“well, it's not like you could keep wearing it.” rafe smirks, leaving the ring out for everyone to see.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre

[pprodsuga]

our last summer | psh

summary: would it be enough if i could never give you peace?

notes: inspired by peace and august by taylor swift and our last summer by ABBA <3 love u forever, my darling sunghoon.

warnings: angst, fluff, nsfw: oral (m + f receiving), unprotected sex, dry humoring, dirty talk, fingering. :)

ahh this was only supposed to be a few thousand words but here we are at 19.4K ...

masterlist + add yourself to my taglist

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･

The end of summer is when you start to feel it. 

The hot sun isn’t as inviting as it once was, with the promise of a limitless summer ahead of you before returning to university in the fall. Now, the sunny days feel bleak and lifeless despite the leftover flowers that have bloomed since spring. 

Sunghoon sleeps peacefully with his chest pressed against your mattress, his shirt long discarded from the night before as the warm sun peeks from the curtain shielding your windows. His lips form a pout with the way his cheek is pressed against the pillow as short warm breaths poke at your skin. 

It feels peaceful like this. You turn to face him and put your fingertips on his back to feel the warmth radiating from his body. The overhead ceiling fan blows cool air against his skin and the juxtaposition feels electric. Your hand moves up and down his body, memorizing every dip and pattern for memory’s keepsake. 

In the quiet of his slumber is when you write your name in invisible ink on the expanse of his skin. 

Your hand moves slowly to write in cursive. Sunghoon squirms beneath your touch, his body reacting to the way your fingers move along his muscular back. You don’t notice when he opens his eyes and watches your quiet behavior, but you hear how his breathing has changed and meet his gaze.

“Good morning,” you say to him without lifting your fingers.

“Morning,” he croaks, voice deep and raspy from a good night’s sleep. 

“Did you sleep well?” 

He nods. “Mhm. You put me to sleep, but it seems like I didn’t do a good job if you’re awake before me.”

“Two times means you did an incredible job, Hoon.” 

Sunghoon grins at you and maneuvers his body on top of yours, bringing his nose to touch yours as he smiles. “Wanna make it a third?” 

Despite two months of bedroom trysts, his stare still makes you shy. 

“But I’m getting hungry,” you deflect, breaking eye contact in an attempt to collect yourself. Sunghoon laughs. 

“So am I, and I know what I want for breakfast.” 

You let him push his head to your bare cunt and watch as he moves the blankets out of the way. It feels like it’s getting warmer in the room but it very well could be because your body ignites into flames when Sunghoon’s hands pry your legs apart to present yourself to him. 

He looks at you like it’s the first time all over again, as if it were that night in June when the two of you found yourselves at the same bonfire party to celebrate the start of the summer season. Everyone who left for university had come home and drank underneath the twinkling stars that painted the night sky in a pattern you’d seen a thousand times. 

Sunghoon could only remember your face when he closed his eyes and guessed correctly that you were the person who sat next to him in your shared literature class before graduating, one he never seemed to pay any attention to. You’d grown out of your introverted shell, unlike when you were back in high school, and asked him what he’d been up to since he left. He told you as if the two of you were friends who hadn’t seen each other in a while. You knew his stories but you listened with careful intent because his glossy eyes and his unwavering attention made you feel important. 

You aren’t sure how the two of you ended up as connected as you are. You’d argue Sunghoon knows your body better than you do and that the past couple of months, littered with secret kisses and his hands around your waist, has been the best summer of your life. 

Even with Sunghoon’s fingers prying your pussy open and with his tongue inside of you, the two weeks you have before returning to university is the only thing you can think about. 

Your thoughts drift in and out between focusing on the pleasure he’s giving you coupled with what will happen when the two of you are forced to participate in everyday student life, away from your hometown to face responsibilities. It’ll be your last year, too, and what of the moment when the two of you cross your tassels over your graduation cap? 

Sunghoon’s fingers take your mind off of that thought for a moment. His fingers slide up and down your wet slit and you push his hair from his forehead to see his eyes stare at the mess like he’s never seen you like this before.  

“Have you finished packing?” he asks before bending down to kiss the soft skin of your inner thigh. “My parents keep texting me to do it.” 

“Halfway done,” you say breathlessly. 

“Me too.” Sunghoon’s hair makes your body lurch forward but he uses his strong arms to hold you in place. “Gonna miss summer break when we go back.” 

You don’t say anything. It’s too much for you to think about, especially when the man between your legs is the most handsome and angelic looking boy you have ever seen in your life. Sunghoon gets so lost in your pleasure that he periodically licks his lips at the sight of your pussy exposed to him, paying attention to nothing but your clit that he loves to call pretty. 

“Your pussy gets so wet every time,” he says as his finger flicks your clit back and forth before his mouth presses a chaste kiss on the bud. “It’s so sexy.” 

“You know how to use your mouth well,” you praise. Sunghoon grins at your words and hums when your fingers scratch his head as his tongue dives back into your core. 

He’s slow with it, unlike the night prior when he had asked to come over with a tent already visible in his pants. Sunghoon takes his time dragging his tongue all over you as if he’s trying to commit the way you taste to memory. His tongue works expertly to reach where your own fingers can’t and you can hear him chuckle from below you when your back arches from a particular sensation. 

Sunghoon’s hands support you, sliding from your thighs to grip your hips as you push your pussy into his face. You feel him hum against you as you press yourself into him and if there’s one thing you can infer from your bedroom holidays, it’s that your pleasure brings Sunghoon his. 

You come undone a few minutes later as he coaxes you through it, gently licking you clean until your release has been swallowed by him. Sunghoon peppers small kisses along your thighs as a silent praise for a job well done for letting him take you the way he wants, his hands smoothing over your body to grip your breasts before moving his way on top of you. 

The kiss is slow like two lovers on borrowed time. Sunghoon’s body slips between your legs as your hands come to cup his jawline with your own hands, pushing your lips against his swollen ones. He kisses you like time does not exist and the world outside remains still despite hearing the sounds of birds chirping from just outside of your window. 

Sunghoon gasps into the kiss when your hips meet his, forcing his cock to situate itself between your bodies. He’s hard from a mixture of tasting you in his mouth and humping the bed when he heard your breaths become shallow before eventually releasing all you had to offer. You push yourself against him until you elicit a deep moan from the back of his throat. 

“Thought you were hungry,” he whispers against your ear, kissing the skin below it as his hips move until his cock is sliding between your folds. 

“Breakfast can wait.” Your hands smooth themselves over his toned body and arms, squeezing his biceps as he raises his chest to see where you two meet. 

“Is my pretty girl worked up?” Sunghoon teases with a breathy tone. His hardness matches your arousal and the erotic sound of wetness splashing has him pushing the tip of his cock against your clit. 

“Just a little bit,” you say coyly. “I wanna feel you.” 

Sunghoon sinks himself into you without a second thought.

“I want to feel you too.”

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

You avoid talking to Sunghoon about the upcoming fall semester. You’re not sure if he can tell that your mind has been preoccupied with the future because he seems so content in the present, spending his free time with you when he isn’t with his other friends and family. 

It’s almost unfair how handsome he looks when the sun kisses his skin. Its golden hues emphasize his sharp jaw and brown eyes that resemble comfort underneath the warm light. 

The way he looks reminds you of when you’d use to see him around school before moving away to college. Sunghoon was always revered by his classmates for his astonishingly good looks with his hair always falling into place like dominoes. 

He was a household name for more reasons than one. Sunghoon’s figure skating career was at an all time high during his third year of high school, often having missed classes for competitions. He was all the girls could talk about in between classes and it was like the community around you built an invisible shrine to illustrate how worthy everyone thought him to be. 

You were never friends with him as his popularity was a bit too out of reach for you, back when everybody cared about the superficial. But Sunghoon lived towards the end of the block where you’d see him leave for practice or come home late through your bedroom window since you were a kid. Your classmates were right to praise him for his tenacity and resilience, although you had a sneaking suspicion that they did so because he was incredibly good looking with rumors of having a very successful figure skating career in a few year’s time. 

You didn’t see it that way. The two of you were not friendly by any means, but you could see the weight of the world on his shoulders when he’d come home after a long day at the ice rink. You could hear fragments of conversations, namely how hard it was to balance schoolwork, college applications, and a career he wasn’t sure he was ready to commit to. 

University was right around the corner and he itched to experience life that didn’t surround figure skating. It always felt like silent, one-sided support on your end as you’d hear Sunghoon talk to his parents on his way inside of the house. It felt like you were getting to know the person he was when he wasn’t smiling for the camera or for people who liked him for the attention. Still, you’re sure Sunghoon had no idea who you were until just before the summer of your last year of college. 

The news that he would retire from professional skating rocked the community but people were supportive of his decision to pursue a degree. He left the small town behind to pursue a life in Seoul, not for his ice skating career, but to get a taste of what his life could look like.

Then, he met you. 

You’re still somewhat astonished that he knew who you were, given that you hadn’t spoken much in the years you lived in his neighborhood. Sunghoon made an effort to wave at you in passing and talk to you, going so far as to introduce you to his friends when he had spotted you sitting by yourself in the cafeteria. Heeseung, Jay, and Jake were smitten by your humble nature and were too eager to listen to stories about their best friend in a time where they did not know him. Thinking about that period of your life makes your stomach turn. 

Sunghoon kisses your cheek when you both exit your house. His car is parked out front and he opens the door for you before getting inside himself. The weekend is unpromising, as most are, and you find yourself wondering what Sunghoon has planned for the day. 

“I see the gears turning in that pretty little head of yours,” Sunghoon comments as he drives out of your street. He puts his hand on your thigh and caresses you with his thumb. “Are you doing okay?”

“Yes,” you lie. “I think I’m still waking up.” 

Sunghoon laughs. “Even after I’ve been inside of you?” He watches you blush from the corner of his eye, squeezing your thigh when he hears you stutter over your words. 

“Yes,” you mumble. “Even after all of that.” 

“Good think I’m planning on getting coffee,” he tells you, diverting his attention back to the road. “I could use a pick me up.” 

Sunghoon pays for your beverages and encourages you to pick out a pastry despite having had a small breakfast at his place. He tells you to stand away from the crowd gathering around the hand off station. Watching him with his back turned to you, patiently waiting for his order, feels extremely familiar because of how frequent Sunghoon has taken you out this summer. You don’t think you’ve ever spent time with him like this before the two of you left to go back home for the break.

“For you,” Sunghoon says, pulling you out of your thoughts. You drink the ice cold liquid and feel the unnerving thoughts wash out of you with the first sip, willing yourself to be present. 

“Thanks, Hoon. Got anything else planned for today?”

He bites into a croissant. “The rink I used to skate at has a half price day today. I was thinking we could spend the next hour or two there.”

“Why, so you could show off in front of me?” Sunghoon knocks your knee with his when he sees your lip quirk upwards. 

“I know you’re curious.” You can’t fault him there. 

“Mm, that I am. I can’t say I’m at your level but I can stand on my own two feet without needing to hold onto the rail.” 

“I’m rusty,” he says. “I haven’t been on the ice in forever.”

“I’m sure you’ll be just fine.” 

“Besides,” Sunghoon says after taking another bite, “I want to see you stumble around like a penguin.” 

“I told you, I’m decent,” you huff. “I used to go to the rink with my cousin when we were kids and I used to see you warming up.”

“Oh, you did?” 

“Only sometimes. We usually went on the weekends in the morning to avoid the crowd.” 

Sunghoon nods. “Yeah, that sounds about right. In the first few years of training, I’d have to be at the rink when people were waking up. I wish I could’ve seen you there.”

“It’s okay,” you tell him. “We weren’t really friends until this year.”

“Still, it would’ve been nice to have seen you.” 

Sunghoon’s words make your heart lurch. You can’t stop yourself from thinking about it.

“We didn’t run in the same circles back in high school, did we?” you ask him to quell his dampened expression, knocking Sunghoon’s knee like he did with you. “You were definitely more popular between us two.” 

“Popular is definitely a word,” he says, biting the end of his straw. “I think people liked that I was on national TV. I couldn’t go a day without people saying something about it.”

“You worked hard to get there. I understand why you were the talk of the town.” 

He shrugs. “I guess so. It was hard to balance school and my career. I felt like a walking zombie every time I’d show up to class.” 

“From where I stood, I can definitely say that look worked for you.” 

Sunghoon raised his eyebrow at you. “Oh? And were you looking?”

You roll your eyes. “These are things I’ve heard other people say.”

“Right, right,” he says with a mischievous grin like he doesn’t believe you. 

“Whatever,” you mumble, praying that your cheeks would cool down. “God, I don’t think I went an hour without hearing someone talk about you.”

“Yeah. I remember a bunch of people I didn’t know coming up to me like we’d been friends since birth.” 

“That had to feel weird.” 

“It was weird. Definitely weird. I’d eat lunch and some kid would ask me how practice was going.”

“Then what?” you ask.

“I’d tell them my practice schedule and say I’m hoping for good scores for my next competition.” 

“You definitely could’ve been an idol in another life,” you tease. “You were so good at giving vague answers that satisfied people.” 

Sunghoon shrugs. “Nah, not for me. You know, I don’t think I had any real friends, though. Just people who thought my career path was cool.” 

It hurts to hear it when you recall the nights seeing Sunghoon come home past his bedtime and then in class the next morning. He always looked just shy of collapsing, but that attitude was what the girls were into back then. For you, however, it seemed almost worrisome.

“I’m sorry,” you say earnestly. “I don’t know if you remember, but sometimes I’d hang out on my balcony and watch the neighborhood. Most nights I saw you come home late from practice and I always wondered how you did all of it without breaking a sweat. Even when we had literature together, I wished we were close enough so that I could’ve asked you if you were okay without sounding like a deranged fangirl.” 

You try not to wince with embarrassment at your long confession. Sunghoon looks at you with an expression you can’t read, blinking at you as if he’s thinking about what to say next. He remains silent. 

“Well, I think we should head over.” You abruptly stand and throw your empty pastry bag into the trash can next to you and try to keep a loose grip on your cup despite your chest caving. “I want to be impressed by your fancy moves.” 

“I can do that,” he tells you, coming out of his daze when he registers that you’ve moved spots. You push the uneasy feeling out of your mind, pretending you didn’t make things awkward between the two of you. 

“If you fall in your face, I’ll deduct a point.”

Sunghoon laughs. “I’ll be sure not to fall. I think my time training has prepared me for this.” 

You don’t say another word as Sunghoon throws his trash away. You want to hang your head in shame and ask Sunghoon to drive you home so that you can wallow in your misery, alone in your bedroom. But he jogs ahead of you to open the door, allowing you to step out before him. You thank him with a meek voice and swallow when you notice your throat has run dry. 

When you approach the passenger side of his car, Sunghoon opens the door for you. You’re about to step inside when he pulls you into him. You feel his other hand on your waist when he pushes his lips against your own. 

His mouth tastes like coffee and the cold sensation of the ice from the drink makes your body shiver. Sunghoon tilts his head and angles himself to push harder against you, squeezing your body with his fingertips before pulling away to see the dazed look in your eyes. Sunghoon chuckles when you look at him, using his thumb to wipe the spit that has collected on your bottom lip. 

“I always saw you on your balcony,” Sunghoon says before leaning in to steal another kiss. He opens his eyes only after he’s pulled away once again, and you see the way he struggles to keep himself composed. “I would never think you’re a deranged fangirl, by the way.” 

You struggle to find the words to speak. He grins at you like he’s proud to have caught you off guard, opening the door wider while pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before encouraging you inside the vehicle. He closes the door and you sit with your mouth slightly ajar when he turns on the engine. 

Sunghoon breathes a laugh and places his hand on your thigh before heading to the ice rink, leaving you astounded and wondering if you were dreaming.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･ﾟ

It’s the last Wednesday before the two of you go back to university. 

You’re both arriving separately with your parents and belongings in tow, respectively. It’s been convenient that your family has been on a summer vacation of their own, leaving just after you and Sunghoon had started fooling around, and arriving within two days to drive with you back to school. His parents have been running all over Korea to support his younger sister’s traveling performances in dance. He’s attended a few of her competitions around the country a few times, and even invited you to see one or them with him when she was back in town. 

Otherwise, the two of you spend every waking moment together. The only time you’d spend apart is when he’d leave to watch his sister dance or when you had your shifts at a family-friend’s dumpling shop. Even when you’d see a few friends from back home, it seemed to end with Sunghoon in your bed more often than not.  

Dusk has settled on the tail end and the sun is almost disappearing. A wave of anxiety washes over you when Sunghoon suggests that you stay at his house longer after having spent the day using his pool. You brought a change of clothes and Sunghoon offered the shower to you. When you say yes, he tells you to go first. 

This isn’t your first time using his bathroom by any means, but it’s your first time being completely naked without the pretext of having sex. Suddenly, you smell like Sunghoon because of his shampoo and body wash. You smell of sandalwood and cinnamon, the kind that reminds you of when your face is pressed close to his. 

The intensity of your feelings becomes apparent when you dry your hair to the best of your ability with the towel he gave you. You put your clothes on and wring out any water from your bathing suit before looking at yourself in the mirror. 

You’ve never spent time in his home like this. You know his bedroom well enough, but it’s usually your house that the two of you hang out in. Sunghoon is the one who comes over, unannounced or not, and he’s the one who brings a change of clothes over just in case the two of you grow tired from talking or otherwise. 

It feels strangely comfortable to be alone in his bedroom’s bathroom unsupervised. But it’s a feeling you wish would go away because neither you nor Sunghoon have talked about what will happen when you return to university. Instead, you suck in a breath and force yourself outside. 

“Took you long enough,” Sunghoon teases when you emerge from his room and into the kitchen. He has a cherry popsicle in his hand to combat the hot weather that has made his mouth look red. 

“You told me to take my time, so that’s what I did,” you retort as you walk closer. You stand before him and he looks at you with a mischievous grin before your eyes dart to the popsicle in his hand. 

“You want one?” he asks.

“Yes, please.” 

“Open wide.” 

You barely register his command when he gently pushes the cool popsicle to your lips, beckoning you to open your mouth. The ice melts against you when it enters inside and your mouth closes against the popsicle when you feel the melted juices begin to run down your chin. 

“That’s a good girl,” he whispers lowly, eyes focused on your mouth and the way your cheeks hollow. “Tastes good, yeah?” 

“Mhm,” you mutter with it in your mouth. 

Sunghoon pulls the stick from you and continues looking at your red lips and tongue like he’s mesmerized. He looks at you after you’ve bitten your bottom lip and puts the stick in your hand. 

“I’m going to shower,” he says. “You can have the rest.” 

Sunghoon walks away without so much as another word, leaving you equally breathless and turned on. Did Sunghoon mean to leave you like this? He loves to tease you and will always finish his remarks with a kiss to your lips or forehead. But this time, he left without that familiar kiss and it looked like Sunghoon was rushing to the bathroom. 

With a slight boost in your ego, you put the popsicle back into your mouth and suck on it until all that remains is the stick and the taste of wood. 

Sunghoon isn’t in the shower for long. You don’t know what washes over you when you enter his bedroom after hearing the water turn off. When he exits his bathroom, his hair is still damp and his skin glistens from the water. His towel hangs low on his hips and you can see every ridge, curve, and divet on his body. It makes your mouth water and you’re stunned when he meets your eyes. 

“It’s a good flavor, right?” Sunghoon asks after a moment of quiet. 

“What?” 

“The popsicle,” he says with a tick in his voice. “It was good, wasn’t it?” You look at him when he takes a step forward. 

“The best,” you barely manage to say.

You swallow when his steps reach just an inch from where you are. Sunghoon looks at you through his eyelashes and waits for you to say something with the side of his face quirks in amusement. His dimple peeks out and the canines of his teeth that you’ve become fully obsessed with are on full display. 

Sunghoon leans forward until his lips barely touch yours, eyes flickering down to stare at your mouth. That sensation has you gasping against him, the warm air making him chuckle just enough for him to poke his tongue out and gently lick over your bottom lip. 

“Mm,” Sunghoon hums. “You taste like cherry.” 

He pulls you by your waist and pushes you flush against his body. His strong arms keep you caged into him while your own flail at the sudden movement. You settle by putting your palms against his shoulders and holding on like you’re afraid you’ll fall if you don’t find your balance. Sunghoon pulls you closer to his mouth and makes you stand on your toes just to keep up with him as his mouth invades your personal space.

The kiss is warm and audible. His tongue pushes against yours and his teeth are nearly knocking into yours as you gain your momentum and recover from the shock of his actions. You grow wetter when you realize Sunghoon’s still damp from his shower, the droplets of water from his hair falling onto your arms like they’re meant to keep you aware of what’s happening. 

Without detaching himself from you, Sunghoon sits on the bed with his towel still on and pulls your body so that you’re sitting on his lap. His arms are securely behind you and your back arches when he caresses your spine. 

You suck on his tongue as he kneads the flesh of your ass, gently encouraging you to rock yourself on his body. The two of you moan into each other’s mouths breathlessly when you part for a few seconds of fresh air. Your hands grab his neck as you hold him in place like you’re afraid he’ll vanish if you don’t hold onto him tight enough.  

He grows hard underneath you in record speed as you keep rising from his lap to kiss him deeper, followed by pushing yourself onto him to relieve friction. Sunghoon grunts against you and slaps your left ass cheek in retaliation when you put more pressure on his throbbing cock. 

It’s then when you open your eyes and pull back. Sunghoon keeps his eyes closed momentarily, too lost in the high of his euphoria until he realizes your mouth isn’t on his anymore. His eyelashes make him look celestial, the mole on his cheek too tempting for you not to kiss. But you refrain, holding yourself steady as you try to keep your composure. 

“It’s late,” you whisper. 

“And?” he asks, catching his breath. 

“We have to finish packing,” you reason, although you don’t think you believe in yourself when you say it.

“You have all weekend,” he pleads. Sunghoon holds you with one arm and brushes your hair from your face with his free hand. “What’s going on in that head of yours, baby?”

You bite your lip as he stares at you and it’s jarring to see his careful eyes look at you while he remains exceptionally hard beneath you. Sunghoon squeezes his hand on your waist as gentle encouragement and you watch him tilt his head like he’s listening. 

“I…,” you falter. Sunghoon’s stare is too intense. You look beside him and focus on the blankets that cover his mattress. “We go back to school soon, Hoon. I guess I’m just nervous about what’s gonna happen.” 

“What do you mean by that?”

You bite your lip. “Dunno. I think I’m just nervous for the future. One last year and everything is uncertain.” 

Sunghoon can sense that you’re not telling him the whole truth but he doesn’t pry you to say anything else. He has his own fears about his future as well, and the relationship he’s built with you over the summer has done wonders to quell his worries. But that too is coming to an end. His half-packed belongings sit in another room for him to worry about at a later time.

You feel his lips make contact with your own, this time kissing you with less fervor than before. The kiss feels like a silent reassurance that everything will be okay. Sunghoon lingers for a few seconds before pulling back, just to push himself forward to press more kisses onto your lips until you’ve melted against him. 

“I just want you to be okay,” Sunghoon mumbles between kisses. 

“It’s late,” you say again, hands bracing his chest.

“You could always stay here for the night,” he says. 

“I wouldn’t want to bother you.” Sunghoon places both of his hands on your waist and gives you a squeeze, looking into your eyes. 

“I want you to stay,” he tells you. “Please stay the night.” 

You deliberate for a moment only to nod and relent. Sunghoon grins, pressing forward to kiss you again. He tastes so fresh after his shower, lips supple and plump as the heat from the water still radiates from his skin. You try not to think about his sculpted chest and toned arms but that does nothing for you when you feel Sunghoon’s lips on your neck. 

He chuckles when he hears you gasp. It drives him to put small kisses all over the expanse of your neck, alternating between kissing you and leaving small kitten licks across your skin. The wetness of his saliva makes your arousal pool in your panties and his hair, still wet from his shower, caresses your skin too. 

Sunghoon grunts against your jawline when you push your body against his, feeling his hard outline against your core. Sunghoon bucks his hips when he feels you and curses when you push him off of your neck to sink to your knees.

“Fuck, baby,” he says. Sunghoon watches as you undo the towel and push the fabric aside until his cock becomes accessible to you, spreading his legs so you can situate yourself between them.

The gasp Sunghoon emits when you lick him from his balls to his tip is enchanting. He looks down at you like it’s the first time he’s seeing you be like this for him, especially when you steady your hands on his thighs and kiss the soft skin there. 

You envelop the tip in your mouth and let your tongue dance on the slit a few times before swirling your wet muscle around him. Sunghoon lets out a low groan when your nails caress his thighs too, cock twitching in your mouth and prompting you to take another inch. 

He’s rock hard in record time. Sunghoon doesn’t care about that right now, not when you’ve decided to push your head down and engulf half of him with your tongue running over his veins and his sensitive points. 

“You’re so good at this,” he praises. Sunghoon’s palms lay flat on the mattress as his eyes lazily see you through his pleasured expression. “Can you make it messy for me? I wanna see how messy you can be.”

You look up at Sunghoon, who has his bottom lip between his teeth. He looks like an Adonis type with his perfect body and hair falling over his eyes. You do as he says, pulling yourself off of him to gather saliva before letting your spit fall on his cock. He moans when he feels it dripping down him and at the sight of it falling from your mouth. Sunghoon is pleased when you push your head down until he feels the back of your throat, even more so when he feels spit gathering at the base and sliding down to his balls. 

You pull yourself off of him just to repeat the process over and over again until Sunghoon is a loud, unholy mess above you. He nearly orgasms when he feels your hands massage his balls but tries to prolong his pleasure. 

“You’re so nasty,” he whispers like he’s in disbelief. The sounds of your throat gagging around his cock turn him on and he grips the bed sheets below when you look up at him with him inside your mouth. Your head moves in quick succession to amplify the noise, letting yourself become lost in the feeling of pleasuring Sunghoon. 

“Ah, fuck,” he cursed when your tongue works his underside. “I’m gonna cum.” 

It doesn’t take him long to finish soon after that. He gives you enough warning time to pull your head away but stares down at you with an open jaw when you grip his base and keep his cock situated in your mouth as he comes. 

He watches you close your eyes the moment his come seeps into your tongue and the way you hum around him as you clean him up. Sunghoon’s hips buckle and he does his best to keep his body upright to watch you lick his orgasm. Your mouth constructs around his cock and you continue to glide your tongue over him until there’s no evidence of his come left. 

“You’re perfect.” Sunghoon praises you as he helps you stand from your spot on the floor, turning you around to pull your shorts and panties off while you take off your top and fling it haphazardly. 

Sunghoon spreads your ass in front of him, staring at your body in wonder. Your wetness becomes apparent to him when the light glistens against it and you hear him curse, prompting you to look back at him. You feel Sunghoon gather your arousal on his hand before grabbing cock and pleasuring himself with all you have to offer him. Your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head.  

“I’ll eat you out in a second,” he swears to you as he meets your eye. “Please let me put it in for a little bit. I need to feel your pussy around me.” 

You maneuver to sit back on his lap as he holds you in place with one arm, gripping his still-hardened cock to align with your entrance with his other. The tip grazes your slit, pulling a moan out of you. His warmth feels incredible, almost as if a fire has been lit inside of you with his cock acting as the match. The collective gasp is the only sound heard in the silence of his room. You sink on his cock slowly as you adjust to his size, watching the way his eyebrows furrow like he’s concentrating on the pleasure you bring him.. 

You feel whole and complete when you’re like this. Sunghoon’s quietness tells you he’s savoring the feeling too. His breathing is warm as it hits your chest and you look beneath you to see the ends of his hair tickling your breasts. Sunghoon is dry for the most part, save for his still-damp hair, but he looks like an angelic creature who fell from Heaven when you fully seat yourself on his cock. 

Sunghoon moves your body up and down slowly. His hands never stray from your soft skin as your ass meets his thighs. The sensation is incredibly wet and warm, the shock of pleasure shooting from your spine all the way to your toes. He moves you in a quicker pace gradually to build the momentum until he breathes quiet gasps when the flesh of your ass smacks against his skin. 

Your own wanton moans come unexpectedly as he pushes himself deeper into you. Sunghoon has never been this sensual with you either. He’s more vocal than he is now, just shy from an animalistic howl with witty remarks when you’re either too bashful to look him in the eye as he fucks you or when you talk back to him when you know you shouldn’t. This feels almost too raw and natural. It feels like he’s trying to tell you something but you’re too in your head to know what he’s trying to say.

By the time you’re bouncing on him with your hands placed on his chest to keep yourself balanced, you’re wondering how he’s strong enough to support himself on his palms while you ride him like it’s all you know. Sunghoon nods at you, drunk on the euphoria with every plunge you take. He hisses when you clench around him and pulls you off of his body to pin you underneath him, lips pressed against yours in a heated kiss.

“Don’t wanna cum yet,” he mutters against your lips before dragging them down to your neck. “I promised to eat you out, didn’t I?” 

He doesn’t give you the chance to respond. Sunghoon attaches his mouth to your right nipple and licks over your bud until he’s satisfied with how wet it’s become before moving to the neglected one, this time sucking with his tongue flicking over it until your hips push against him. 

Sunghoon lets go and with his hands massaging your chest, he maneuvers down to press a little kiss to your slit. He’s pleased when your body reacts accordingly, arching to push your core towards his face. His hands pinch your nipples before sliding them down your body to grip your ass, pulling you closer to his mouth when he pushes his tongue inside of you.

Your hands fly to grip his hair from the sudden and welcomed intrusion. Sunghoon’s tongue darts in and out of you while his hands massage you from behind. The angle has your chest pushed towards the ceiling as high as you’ll go with your eyes rolled to the back of your head. His wet tongue feels smooth and divine as he brings it to glide over your wet folds, collecting your arousal and drinking it like it’s nectar from the gods. 

His nose bumps your clit and you push your pussy into his face when he surges forward. Sunghoon’s growls into your body make your toes curl against his back. Your mouth hangs open as moan after moan falls from your lips and it seems as though your body knows no self control when it comes to the boy below you. 

“I love your mouth,” you confess with the tug of his hair at the same time an overwhelming, emotional sensation washes over. You don’t say what you mean, but it’s enough for now. 

“I love the sounds you make,” Sunghoon says as he parts from your core. He flattens his tongue to lick up your slit in rapid succession, watching your arousal and his spit drag from your pussy to his tongue.

“You sound like a fucking porn star when I eat you out.” 

“You’re that good,” is all you manage to say when he flicks your clit with his tongue. “I love your mouth but I want your cock.”

“Princess gets whatever she wants.”

Sunghoon pushes himself until he’s hovering over you. He bends down to suck on your nipples before bringing his mouth to your own, kisses you with his hands braced beside you on the mattress. Sunghoon uses his hands to position you how he likes before spreading his own legs to guide his cock into your entrance, allowing himself to push the tip inside of you. 

He inches inside of you little by little, watching the micro expressions on your face when you close your eyes to focus on the pleasure. You feel his fingers brushing the hair from your forehead as he coos and whispers sweet praises about how well you’re taking his cock and how good you feel around him. 

When Sunghoon is fully sheathed inside of you, he pulls your arms around his shoulders and thrusts inside of you so deeply that you’re sure he’s reached your guts. He can feel your tits against his chest as he pushes his hips forward. The moans he hears from you sound like music to his ears and motivate him to thrust into you deeper to continue pulling those delicious sounds out of you.

It feels so good and so deep that it brings tears to the corners of your eyes. Your heart swells when you think about how mind blowing his cock is making you feel and you start to wonder if this is the last time you’ll ever be able to feel Sunghoon like this. The lone tear strays and falls from the corner or your eye until you produce a few more droplets when Sunghoon lifts his body upwards to push himself down onto you. 

You let out a deep, melodic moan that has Sunghoon’s hips stuttering. He looks up from where his head is placed on your neck to see your reddening eyes and furrows his brows quizzically, preparing himself to stop until you shake your head. 

The two of you have never been as silent as you are now. Instead, you let the wet smacks and breathless moans do the speaking for you. Sunghoon leans down to kiss your tear-stained cheeks, and it’s this sheer intimate act that makes you lose yourself around him. 

He slows his pace when he feels you coming undone around him, watching as your chest rises and as it deflates as you come down from your high. It washes over you like an ocean wave, so intensely before it quells around you. Sunghoon finds himself in a similar state until he releases inside of you with a low grunt and his lips on your very own. 

The two of you remain still as you catch your breaths. Sunghoon pulls out slowly and promises to come back with a warm cloth. He comes back once he’s cleaned himself up and gently swipes the cloth over your body to clean any remnants of cum from between your legs before tossing it in his hamper and handing your discarded clothes back to you. 

Sunghoon comes back to bed with boxers and a pair of plaid pajama pants when you blink out of tiredness. He coos at your innocence in this moment before bending down to kiss you while he climbs into bed. Sunghoon turns off the lamp that lights his room and watches as everything falls dark, the light from outside of his window being the only light illuminating over your face. 

He pulls you into him and kisses you slowly. When he hears you yawn, Sunghoon kisses both of your eyelids and promises for the last time that he wants you to stay over until the morning. 

“We’ll be okay, right?” 

Sunghoon stills at your question. You sound too far gone to realize what you’re saying as you nuzzle against his body. When he looks down at you, all he sees is your eyelashes fluttering as you close your eyes and the way your lips form a small pout as you attempt to fall asleep. He doesn’t say anything, choosing to squeeze your body closer to him. 

With one final kiss, he tucks his chin on the top of your head and his fingers caress over your back until the promise of sleep comes before you.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･

The first week back at university is hectic. 

Your parents said goodbye as your other roommates, Yuna and Ryujin, arrived at your shared apartment. It was nice to see them again after months of only being able to text them because of the distance, and having them with you as your parents left was an added bonus to your weekend. 

You and Sunghoon don’t text much during this time. You ask him if he’s settled in yet, to which he sends a photo of his friends Jay and Jake wrestling in their living room. You react by laughing at the image and that’s the last you hear from him for a while. You don’t expect to hear from him, as you also haven’t been reaching out that much either, due to moving your belongings into your shared apartment and getting ready for the first week of the semester. 

It’s the night before classes begin when Yuna sits down next to you as you watch anime on the shared TV, stealing the pint of cream out of your hands. 

“I can’t believe you were fucking Park Sunghoon over the summer.” You barely react to her taking the ice cream out of your hands and let her have it, grinning in amusement. 

“Stealing my food out of my hands is something I oddly missed in the three months I haven’t seen you.”

“Don’t change the subject,” she says in a way that makes you think she’s trying to be intimidating. The spoon in her mouth isn’t helping her case. “You and Park Sunghoon. You know, the Sunghoon who you had a major crush on in high school but didn’t know you existed until earlier this year?”

“Okay, you really didn’t have to do all of that.” 

“Uh, yes I did.” Yuna shoves another spoonful in her mouth. “I simultaneously want to hear everything about it and nothing at all.” You laugh and steal the ice cream back from her. 

“I couldn’t tell you how it happened, honestly. We didn’t start seeing each other until we both settled back home. I kind of missed being in a place where I know it could’ve been just us two.”

“What about your parents?”

“Gone on a trip for the latter half of summer,” you tell her. “Sunghoon’s parents were traveling with his sister across Korea for dance competitions. It was the perfect set up, if you think about it.”

“God, he’s hot, isn’t he?” she coaxes. “I could totally see he had a thing for you the night you two reconnected. Everyone kept trying to get his attention off of you but he just ignored people who weren’t you.”

“Oh, that’s true.”

“Totally is,” Yuna says with a nod. “I bet it I asked Jake if Sunghoon’s whipped for you, he’d say yes.” You put ice cream in your mouth to suppress a grin. 

“Don’t put delusions in my head.” You look at Yuna. “But do you really think so?”

“The way you were describing your summer fling with Sunghoon made it sound like you guys were dating, Y/N. I know you don’t bullshit your way into delusions like the rest of us either.” 

“He really was a perfect gentleman,” you tell her. “My parents came home when he dropped me off after we hung out and Sunghoon stayed over for dinner until I had to finish packing. It was weirdly domestic.”

“That’s your boyfriend, is all I’m saying.”

You smack her arm. “Quit it.”

“Have you guys been texting since you got back?”

“Not really, but I didn’t think we would be. It’s the first week back and we’re both super busy, you know? I’m sure he’s catching up with his friends and spending time with them since he’s been away all summer. Hoon views my Instagram stories and that’s enough for right now.”

“I don’t know whether you’re trying to convince yourself you’re okay or if you’re actually fine with it.” 

“I’m fine, honest,” you say truthfully. “I mean, I’m busy getting back into the groove of university and entertaining you and Ryujin since your favorite pastime seems to be bothering me.” Yuna rests her head on your shoulders and takes the pint of ice cream back to her. 

“Oh yeah, I definitely missed you.” 

You put your head on top of hers. “I missed you too, Yuna. But seriously, I’m okay.” 

“Did you guys talk about it at all?”

You keep quiet for a moment. “Not really. I was anxious about it the last few weeks of summer but there never seemed to be a right time to talk. We’ve been friendly since our parents came back home so we obviously had to stop fooling around.”

“Still, though. Are you guys like…dating?” 

Yuna doesn’t see your eyes fall. 

“No, we’re not dating.” 

“Hm,” she ponders. “Well he should wife you up soon or else I’ll do it.” 

“We’re already locked in,” you tease her with the hope that this sinking feeling vanishes. 

“Ryujin’s our third,” Yuna says matter-of-factly. “Or, she will be whenever she comes back with dinner.” 

“I missed you guys, I really did. Being back at home was nice and all but I miss going out with you two and staying in all weekend to watch marathons of stupid reality shows that don’t make sense.” 

“We missed you too,” Yuna agrees. “I’m glad we all decided to be roommates again. Kicking out that bitch from the fall semester and having you as the replacement was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Don’t get all sappy on me now,” you tease. 

Yuna parts from you to put the ice cream away after the two of you are done with it. She comes back and sits beside you, intently watching the anime in front of her when you pull your phone out. The last message is still that photo and Jay and Jake from a few days ago when you decide to text him.

you: is it bad that i'm still nervous about the first day of school even though it’s my last year of university 

you: asking for a friend 🤨

You shut your phone off to prevent yourself from waiting for his answer. You distract yourself with the show in front of you as minutes goes by before checking again, only to see he hasn’t texted back. The disappointment settles within you, even though the rational part of you knows he’s probably not ignoring you. 

Ryujin comes back twenty minutes later with dinner she’s picked up on her way back from running errands. The three of you sit around the coffee table and eat wordlessly in front of the TV from a tiring day and it doesn’t feel awkward or forced. 

You talk about your respective summers over the sound of the TV, only briefly pausing to watch action sequences that have distracted the conversation until it falls back into place. You tell Ryujin what you told Yuna about your time with Sunghoon and she nearly swoons when you tell her about your summer. 

When the two of them have focused back on the TV, you see Sunghoon text you from the corner of your eye. You check your phone again and try to keep your excitement to a minimum.

sunghoon: Definitely not a bad thing. I’d be a little worried if you weren’t 

you: i think i’m just nervous because it’s our last year 

you: anyway, did you settle in alright? are jay and jake still fighting lol 

sunghoon: Take it easy, okay? You seemed on edge back at home 

sunghoon: The guys are fine haha I think they missed each other even though they don’t act like it. Heeseung’s been keeping the peace. How about Ryujin and Yuna?

you: they’re good!! I’m actually with them right now. we’re watching my hero academia and having dinner 

sunghoon: Pay attention to the TV and not me, Y/N 😭

sunghoon: The guys and I are gonna order takeout and I might pass out soon. Goodnight if I fall asleep before you do :) 

you: gooodnight, hoon 😌

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･

It’s unsurprising that your semester has started with a bang and that you find yourself more busy than not.

You’re barely home between classes, clubs, and your internship that eats up half of your week. You study at home and in cafes on campus with your other friends and roommates as well, catching up on lost time and complaining about how much work is being assigned. 

Sunghoon doesn’t text much and you try not to let it get to you. You’ve sent a few here and there, wishing him a good morning a few days ago and asking if he’d be free to study with you some time this week. Still, you chalk it up to him settling into his life back at university. 

You don’t know why this sinking feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. You never expected this summer romance to turn into anything more despite your want. But the change of environment and how abruptly your life changed after settling into a routine with Sunghoon has you imagining the worst. 

Yuna and Ryujin leave the cafe you’ve been studying at after an hour to head to their shared class, leaving you alone at your table until someone tugs your headphones off of your head. You turn around without hesitance to find the culprit, only to be met with Jake Sim’s infectious grin. 

“There’s that pretty face.” 

“I’m going to hit you by accident one day,” you huff, pausing your music to face him. 

“I missed you too,” Jake says sarcastically, bending down to hug your shoulders when you scowl at him. “How was your summer?” 

“Pretty good,” is all you offer him as he pulls away. “How was being back home in Australia? I’m sure your brother liked having you back.” 

“Quite the opposite but I think he loves me deep down,” he jokes. “Missed you guys, though.” 

You peek over Jake’s shoulder to see the rest of his friends, the very ones you met the same night you reconnected with Sunghoon. 

It was natural the way you became friends with them too. Despite Sunghoon’s attention being on you during that night in January, his friends pried him off of you with the hopes of getting to know the pretty young thing that caught their friend’s attention. When they found out you knew him back in his high school days, it was like the floodgates opened and new friendships blossomed that night. 

“Hey,” you say fondly, opening your arms to engulf Jay in a hug first. Heeseung follows suit and gives you an extra squeeze. Sunghoon stands behind the former with his hands in his pockets when you approach. 

But he doesn’t hug you like his friends do. Instead, Sunghoon tucks you in his side for a quick hug before letting you go. 

Your heart sinks but you’re quick to smile at him and shift your focus back to the rest of the guys. It stings a little, considering his friends who hadn’t seen you in a few months greeted you the way you hoped Sunghoon would. 

You settle back into your seat when Jay sits in front of you and when Jake takes off his backpack. 

“Oh, you guys are staying?” you ask. 

“You don’t mind, do you?” Jay asks. “We have all day to kill.” 

“Not at all! I could use the company. Yuna and Ryujin just left for class.” 

“Say less, princess. Your knights in shining armor are here to save you.” Jake’s words have you shaking your head in disapproval but he throws his head back in laughing before knocking your shoulder with his. “It’s good to have you back.” 

“So did you guys do anything fun when you were back home?” Heeseung asks you and Sunghoon. “Y/N, you worked a summer job, right?”

“Mhm. That part wasn’t too exciting but a job’s a job.” 

“What about the rest of your summer?” 

You tilt your head towards him. “It was great.” 

Sunghoon doesn’t say anything and merely gives you a quick smile before pulling out his own laptop and setting it in front of him. The lump in your throat grows, especially as you look at Sunghoon and will him to look back at you. But he doesn’t. Instead, he tells Jay his coffee order when he offers to buy everyone coffee. 

The five of you remain like that for the next two hours with your noses deep in your assignments and projects. You steal glances at Sunghoon and see that he doesn’t meet your gaze, which confuses you.

you: you you doing okay? you seem kinda quiet 

From the corner of your eye, you watch Sunghoon read your text. 

sunghoon: Yeah I’m alright. Didn’t get a lot of sleep this week :/ 

you: i’m sorry ): hopefully you can get some sleep soon

sunghoon: Hahah yeah I hope so

He returns his attention to the screen in front of him without glancing in your direction. It makes the pit in your stomach sink deeper than before and although he’s given you a reason as to why he’s aloof, the voice in the back of your head tells you to worry. 

But there’s nothing you can do right now, not when his best friends are sitting next to him and certainly not when they’re including you in their conversations. They tell you about their respective summers and how much they looked forward to coming back for one last year before everybody parts ways. 

It warms you on the inside to know you’re being treated like an equal by Sunghoon’s friends. They’re people you know through friends of friends and would only see at parties on the weekends. You were a little surprised to see Jake approach you in a friendly manner because you hadn’t spoken to him since the last week of your third year, only communicating on Instagram when one of you would reply to the other.  

Jay and Heeseung are the same, too. This is the first time you’ve hung out with them when alcohol isn’t involved and you’re scared at how normal this feels, especially when Sunghoon sits across from you but doesn’t make an effort to add anything of substance into the conversation. 

The five of you part ways with Heeseung telling you not to become a stranger this year. You promised him you won’t, but the confused feeling resurfaces when Sunghoon merely waves at you as his friends hug you goodbye. 

You have a bad feeling. 

When the semester drags on, you keep your word and greet them in passing or entertain their rambunctious nature when they include you from time to time. You see Jake the most, as most of his classes are in the same building or the surrounding area in conjunction to yours. He keeps you company in between classes from time to time and you’ve developed a good system where you meet him for lunch in the cafeteria between your class periods and wait for the other guys to join. 

Sunghoon doesn’t text you as much as you’d like him to and it feels silly to expect him to pay attention to you as much as he did over the summer. But you can’t help your yearning, not when he looks criminally good when you see him walking throughout campus.

Communication between the two of you had died down quicker than you realize. After the first few weeks of setting in, Sunghoon texted you less and less with you being the one to initiate the conversation. He would like your Instagram posts and stories from time to time and text you about things your now-mutual friends would invite you to. But that was the basis of your conversations nowadays. 

Two months have passed and you’re confused. 

You respond to his stories as well, especially when he posts with your friends. You try not to read into it when you see girls you know posting Sunghoon on their stories either. They’re innocuous and it’s never just him alone in the frame, but Sunghoon will repost them onto his account and it leaves you wondering if there was any space for you in his life. 

The same phenomenon from high school follows him to university, except his life is not consumed by figure skating anymore. The girls are still fawning over him because of his charm and good looks. People still want to be his friend because he’s wickedly good at soccer even though he’s not on the team. The fraternity he and the other guys are in, often throw parties to celebrate random happenings and use it as an excuse to socialize with people. You see him hanging out with people you don’t know while you wait for a text back. 

The worst part is that you prepared yourself for this outcome but willed yourself to believe it wouldn’t come true. The two weeks you spent worrying about what life would be like once you came back to university was a premonition for how awfully alone you’d feel seeing Sunghoon having fun while you distracted yourself with your studies and your own friends. 

Even Jake, who you don’t know as well as you know Sunghoon, made a small comment about how odd it was that you and Sunghoon hadn’t hung out much. He remembers his friend being smitten by you back in January and figured the two of you must’ve spent a lot of time together when you went back home. You confirmed just as much, leaving out your bedroom trysts when you talked about your summer with Sunghoon. 

It hurts when you realize you’ve become the type of person you promised yourself you’d never be; you wait by your phone to see if Sunghoon texts you outside of the group chat you’ve found yourself in with the other guys and anticipate whatever he might post on social media. You can’t blame people for being interested in Sunghoon either. He’s wickedly good looking and can charm anyone without lifting a finger. It’s unfair the way he can move on with his life without worrying too much about what other people think. 

You wonder if he thinks about you at all. Communication fizzles out until it’s a few texts here and there. You hear from him mostly through that shared group chat but you don’t talk all that much to begin with. It’s mostly the guys joking with each other and you reacting until one of them says something so out of pocket that it prompts a response from you. You’re still navigating how to act around them now that Sunghoon hasn’t paid much attention to you for the months and a half that you’ve been back at school. 

Sometimes you think about how jarring it would look like to people from your hometown if they saw you and Sunghoon together over the summer. You were much more introverted and kept to yourself for the most part back when you were in high school. You were always too shy to make the first move and instead chose to watch people as they made harmless teenage mistakes, watching friendships fail and relationships blossom. 

Coming to university made you rethink your whole approach to life. It encouraged your go-getter attitude and the belief that you’re more capable than you think. It’s why you’ve made more friends in the past four years than you did in the first eighteen years of your life. It’s also why you didn’t shy away from Sunghoon in January despite knowing you used to have the biggest crush on him back when you were seat mates. 

To you, Sunghoon is still that sweet boy who works hard to make people proud of him. He’s that good-hearted, kind person who only wants what’s best for him and his loved ones. He’s not someone you expect to be a local community hero or somebody to put on a pedestal for no reason. Sunghoon has always been your neighbor, one you’ve seen in his good and bad days. 

Brushing you off like you two hadn’t spent the summer twisted in bedsheets makes you feel disappointed and unwanted. 

Jake invites you to his fraternity’s party on Saturday night and you tell him you’ll go. If not because your friend invited you to something he’s passionate about, then definitely because you need a distraction that isn’t academic related. 

He tells you to bring Yuna and Ryujin. The three of you are dressed appropriately and bask in the cooler weather now that the hottest months of the summer are over. The three of you hail an Uber and head over with a few shots of soju each, leaving you pleasantly buzzed with the ability to walk without stumbling. 

The party itself is in full swing when you arrive, as to be expected. Jake meets you at the door and lets you in himself. You almost forget how well known he is because of how painfully normal he seems when he’s not drinking. But walking with him means you witness stranger after stranger come up to him like he’s an old friend they hadn’t seen in years. You assume he knows them all. 

“You guys need a drink,” he says. “What do you like? We have beer, seltzer, and hard alcohol if you want?” 

“I’ll take a seltzer and Yuna will take a beer,” says Ryujin. 

“I’ll do a seltzer too,” you say. Jake fishes for them in the cooler and hands them to you all respectively. “I can’t believe you know this many people.”

“Eh, I know them, give or take. I used to be more active in the frat but physics has been kicking my ass lately,” Jake explains. “This is the first time I’ve had in a while to plan one of these things. It feels good.” 

“You really know how to throw a party, Sim Jaeyun,” Yuna says as she tips her beer bottle towards him. “As long as we get in for free, I couldn’t care less.” 

“You guys will always get in for free,” Jake promises with a salute. “Scout’s honor.” 

“You used to be a boy scout?” Ryujin asks over the music. Jake laughs and shakes his head, assuming she had the most to drink prior to arriving. 

Jake leads you to another room where he says the other guys are hanging out. Jay’s the first to see you, Yuna, and Ryujin, and offers his seat on the couch for one of you. Heeseung gives you a friendly hug when Ryujin happily takes Jay’s former seat as Jake steals your attention to catch up with you from the past week before you notice a girl sitting on Sunghoon’s lap. 

Time itself feels like it’s moving in slow motion when you see them from the corner of your eye. She’s perched on his knee as she talks animatedly to another person you don’t recognize and Sunghoon’s arm is lazily draped over her waist. Your heart sinks, especially when it doesn't register to him that you’ve walked into the room. 

Jake seems to notice how closed off you’ve become when your answers start to slow down. You try not to notice his worried eyes when they dart between you and Sunghoon, but he puts two and two together when you refuse to meet his gaze. 

He maneuvers so that his body is blocking your view and the only person you can focus on is him. You appreciate Jake even if your body language doesn’t convey that at this second. You see Yuna and Ryujin come to the same realization a few seconds later and share a look with the two girls before letting your disappointment wash over you. 

“Hey,” Jake says gently, knocking his bottle with your can. “Don’t look at him.” 

“It’s really hard not to when he’s the only person who has a girl sitting in his lap.” 

“True, but you’re not having fun and it’s only making you upset.” 

You tilt your head in confusion. “But that’s your best friend?”

“One who’s making my other friend feel upset,” he tells you. “We all had a feeling you two were more than just friends, you know. Neither of you are really good at hiding how you feel.” 

“That bad, huh?” 

Jake laughs but shakes his head. “Not really, honestly. It’s cute the way you care for him. No one talks about Sunghoon the way you do.” 

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended.” 

“You talk about him like he’s a person with faults, Y/N. I don’t get the feeling that he was an ex-skating protege or the campus’ best looking student when you talk about him.” 

“Well, he is those things,” you mumble in annoyance. 

“Sure,” Jake laughs, “but it’s much more than that. Sunghoon used to tell us about how he’d see you on your balcony when he came home from skating practice, you know. You were always doing something like reading a book or staring at the sky. Hoon said he always wondered what you were thinking.” 

“That is awfully kind of him to say considering he has another girl in his lap,” you sigh. “This feels so childish. I knew whatever happened over the summer was meant to end when we got back to university but I had this idea in my head that it wouldn’t.” 

“I’m sorry,” Jake apologizes. “He’s my friend but so are you. It’s unfair.” 

“This is definitely too depressing of a conversation to have at a party,” you say with an awkward laugh. “You didn’t invite me to hear me bitch and moan.” 

“No, but I’m always down for one. Invite me over the next time you, Ryujin, and Yuna have a bitching session. God knows I need one.” 

“I’ll pencil you in.” 

When you regroup and are introduced to the girl on Sunghoon’s lap, you aren’t sure what’s supposed to hurt more—Sunghoon barely acknowledging you beyond a lazy wave or this girl being an absolute sweetheart who definitely didn’t know you and Sunghoon hooked up for months over the summer.

She’s kind and includes you and your friends in the conversation, catching you up on what you missed before arriving. She’s considerate and explains inside jokes she has with the people around you when they’re brought up in conversation and it makes your heart fall when you realize just how perfect and normal she is. 

You’re not sure whether she’s a girl Sunghoon met just now or has known for a while. You don’t know if he’s going home with her or if this is more than just a one time thing. What you do know, however, is Jake has given you the perfect environment to distract yourself from the awful feeling you get when you see how his chin is tucked on this girl’s shoulder. 

It’s Jake who promises Yuna and Ryujin to watch over you tonight. The girls keep their drinking to a minimum too, just to make sure you get home safely. You down shot after shot when Heeseung or Jay hand you alcohol and mingle with the people around you, forcing yourself to seem more outgoing than you are to prevent yourself from thinking about Sunghoon. 

The worst part is that he doesn’t seem to care that you’re here or that you’re not walking to him. He’s too preoccupied with his personal company and all of his focus is on her, just like it was on you all those months ago. It makes you sick to your stomach and although you’re incredibly wasted, you stop yourself from ingesting anymore alcohol when Yuna suggests it’s time to go back home.

Jake is kind enough to drive the three of you back when he’s sobered up. He walks the three of you into the apartment building and makes sure you’re safe inside the apartment. Jake makes Yuna and Ryujin promise to update him on how you’re holding up over the weekend and leaves to go back to the party after he squeezes your hand and tells you goodbye. 

Your friends help you get ready for bed and the last image before you close your eyes is the way Sunghoon looked at that girl, wishing it was you instead.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･

“We should set you up on a date.” 

Ryujin barges into your bedroom where you’re sitting cross-legged over your desk with assignments so sprawled over the surface. It’s been a few weeks since the party and you haven’t made an effort to reach out to Sunghoon, muting his social media from your feed and only hearing from him when he chimes in the group chat. 

“He’s a great guy and you guys have pretty similar personalities. It hit me when we were hanging out earlier today but if you’re in, I’ll set everything up!”

Ryujin lets you scroll through his Instagram feed and you’re feeling more hopeful and excited than you have since the semester began. The guy is cute enough that you don’t feel immediately turned off by him and he seems to have a fun, outgoing personality. Ryujin’s a little stunned when you agree off the bat, having expected a little pushback, but you’re tired of feeling second best when it comes to love and romance. 

Ryujin gives this guy your number and tells you that he should be the one reaching out. You listen when she tells you to relinquish that desire to date and rush yourself into meeting up with him if you don’t match well over text. She’s right, as per usual. 

This guy texts you at a respectable hour and keeps your conversations interesting. He makes you laugh and asks you interesting questions that immediately reel you in. You find yourself thinking about Sunghoon less when you talk to him about your own passions and as you get to know him. 

In fact, you’re a bit perplexed at how well the two of you seem to get along in just a few short days. You’ve talked on the phone a few times and have seen each other in passing when you pick up Ryujin from their shared class before heading home. It’s enough familiarity to agree when he asks you to go out with him the following Saturday. 

It still hurts to think about Sunghoon, but this guy has provided a distraction that makes you think your feelings for the former may truly be gone. Maybe you really did only like him for the summer and didn’t get the closer you needed to move on. Maybe this was that closure. 

Saturday comes around and you both agree to meet at a ramen house close to your apartment. Yuna tells you it’s best to meet him there in case you’re not having fun and need a reason to leave. You take her advice and double check that your lip gloss looks good and that all hairs are in place before saying goodbye, promising to update them when you come home. 

You get to the ramen shop fifteen minutes early out of sheer nervousness and rationalize that you’d rather wait for him instead of risk being late. The air is cool enough that you keep your jacket on.

Only, you end up waiting longer than you’d like.

People walk past you but none of them are the person you’re waiting for. You grow more irritable and anxious altogether, checking your phone to see if there are any texts in his end that you neglected to see earlier. But you see nothing. 

After ten minutes past when he was supposed to meet you arrives, you text and ask him where he is. When another ten minutes passes, you call and leave a voicemail. You don’t know why you waited a full forty five minutes for him before deciding that it wasn’t worth it. Being rejected without knowing why for the second time has unlocked the deep insecurity of not being good enough, one you kept hidden from the surface. 

Fresh tears spring to your eyes and you wipe them away quickly to avoid crying in public. The shame you feel is weighing on you heavily. It seems childish to experience this level of annoyance and you refrain from sending a lengthy paragraph with less than favorable things to say. 

It all leads back to the nagging feeling of not being good enough for people to keep around. It’s almost as if you’re a liability of sorts, wandering around and hoping that who you are is enough to give others peace. 

You’re brought out of your thoughts when you hear someone calling your name. 

“Y/N, is that you?” 

You turn around to see Jake squinting and walking towards you. He smiles when he can see you standing in front of him and leans to give you a loose hug, initially too excited to have run into you to notice you’d been crying. When you pull away from him, Jake sees a tear fall from your eye and immediately pulls you back towards him. 

“Woah, woah,” Jake says when you stumble into his chest. He secures you between his arms as you pathetically let your tears fall onto his jacket. He looks down at your crying figure and feels his heart ache. “What happened, Y/N? Are you hurt?”

You shake your head and lift yourself from his chest, roughly pushing underneath your eyes to rid yourself of your tears. You’re sure some of your eyeliner has smudged and your makeup is ruined, and the thought of Jake watching you cry on a public sidewalk makes you feel pathetic.

“You’re not hurt,” he guesses when you move your head from left to right. He puts his hands on your shoulders and bends to look at you. “But you’re crying.” 

“I’m fine,” you lie. “I’m just gonna go home.”  

“Not when you’re like this,” he says. “What’s going on, Y/N?” 

“I had a stupid date with a stupid guy, and he stood me up without telling me why he couldn’t make it.” 

“That fucking blows.” 

“Tell me about it.” 

“He didn’t give you a reason either? I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you sigh. “I think I’m just done with this whole dating bit until I get my life together. I’m exhausted, Jake.” 

He nods. “That guy sucks. I hope he doesn’t wake up tomorrow.” 

“You and me both.” 

“That’s the most un-gentlemanly thing a guy could do. Why bother asking you out if he’s not going to show up?” 

“You’re asking all the right questions but I’m too upset to even think right now, and I’m hungry but all I have in my kitchen is leftovers that I don’t want to eat.” 

The frustration eats at your chest and you feel an impending tantrum rising. Jake can only look at you with sympathetic eyes as you shake from the cool breeze. But he shakes his head when you suggest going back home and offers his arm out to you.

“Screw him. I’ll take you out on a date tonight since you were promised one.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “A date? Jake…”

“Come on,” he says with a friendly smile. “It won’t mean anything. You deserve to go on a mind blowing date after, well, everything.” 

“What makes you think you have what it takes to take me on a mind blowing date?” you ask as you loop your arm with his. 

“Because I, Sim Jaeyun, know how to impress girls.” He laughs at his own joke and ushers you inside the restaurant before flagging down a waiter to be seated. “But really, I like being friends with you and I hate seeing you sad.” 

“You’re definitely climbing the ranks in this totally imaginary friendship ladder,” you tell him. The waiter leads you both to an empty table and Jake pulls out your chair for you before bowing dramatically.

“Your seat, madam.”

“Thank you, kind sir.” 

He laughs and pride swells in his chest when he sees you laughing. Jake has gathered bits and pieces about your summer with Sunghoon between the two of you. He’s not as close with you as he is with the former, but the blossoming friendship since that night you two first met has him thinking you might be someone who he wants around for the long run.

It’s why Jake finds himself irritated at Sunghoon for ignoring you in the first place. He tries to bring you up in conversation subtly, mentioning your name or what you’ve been up to in passing. Jay and Heeseung are quick to take the bait and talk about you candidly like they would with any of their other friends but Sunghoon always remains quiet and stoic. It doesn’t help that Jake remembers the crestfallen look on your face the night his friend let another girl sit on his lap.

Jake can’t guess why this seemingly perfect summer ended so abruptly. Sunghoon was full of hope during his time away from university and often talked about how happy he was to be back home. He mentioned being with you a few times but Jake and the rest of the guys had a sneaking suspicion that you were the one making his last summer before graduating, one to remember. 

But now, you sit in front of him with your hair done and an outfit that he’s never seen you wear to campus before. You look like an angel under the artificial lighting as you talk animatedly about what you’ve been up to since he last saw you. Jake almost feels sorry for Sunghoon. It could very well be him sitting in front of you instead if he hadn’t ignored you. 

The two of you make the fifteen minute walk back to Jake’s apartment after he tells you it’ll be just him until the following evening. He says that Jay and Heeseung are taking a weekend trip but doesn’t know what Sunghoon is up to, although you suspect that he’s with the girl from the party. 

You try not to dwell on it when you enter his apartment. The living area is much cleaner than you anticipated it to be. There’s artwork and posters lining the walls and Jake lets you look around when he grabs two bottles of soju. 

“I’m in desperate need of a bitch-fest and I know you are too,” Jake says as he beckons you to sit on the couch. “This is a judgment-free zone, okay? Whatever you say won’t be repeated.” 

“That’s a tempting offer but I still need to go home later.” 

Jake shrugs. “You don’t have to drink if you don’t want to.” You don’t contemplate it for a second. 

“Screw it.” 

You take one bottle from Jake and unscrew the cap, chugging a quarter of the liquid before handing it back to him. He doesn’t say anything before tipping his head back to do the same. 

“Sometimes I feel like everyone has this expectation of me that I can’t fulfill,” Jake starts. “I mean, I know I’m on the soccer team and all of that shit, but people expect me to be this all-rounder who knows what I’m gonna do in life. I don’t know anything.” 

“That sucks. I can’t imagine why that many people think that they know what’s best for you.” 

“Everyone tells me to go pro. Without fail, every single game ends with someone telling me to jump the gun and go for it. But I don’t play soccer for fame, you know? It’s exhausting and I hate that I’m losing my passion for it.” 

“I’m sorry, Jake.” The two of you sip on the alcohol until a nice buzz has formed. He watches you pout and he refrains from cooing at you. “I think people need to shut the fuck up forever.” 

“Amen.” 

“I didn’t know you felt that way. Seriously, Jake, I’m sorry people make you feel like you have to be somebody you don’t want to be.” 

“People think it’s stupid that I want to pursue a career in astrophysics but it’s what I love and it’s what I’m good at. I’m waiting on acceptance letters for grad schools across the country but nobody seems to give a shit about that.” 

Your heart aches for him. Jake feels your head rest in his shoulder and he rests his own head on top of yours. 

“People think they know what’s good for you based on their own delusions about who you are,” you say. 

“I love my team and I love soccer but lately I haven’t been looking forward to going to practice or the games. I hate that it feels like it’s weighing me down.” 

“Do you know what you’re gonna do?” 

He shakes his head. “Not really. I get in the zone when we have a game but the aftermath is just…wondering what I’m going to do when it’s all over. I want to keep playing but not if it means I lose my passion for the sport.” 

“Well, that makes a lot of sense. I’d hate to see you lose passion for the thing that makes you happiest.” 

“Me too. Now you go,” Jake beckons after a moment of silence. “I feel like I just ripped my heart out and put it in your hands.” You steal the bottle from Jake’s hands and he motions to open a new one as you finish the last of the liquid. 

“I’m going to feel really stupid for saying all of this so please promise you won’t make fun of me.” Jake rubs your arm with the hand around your shoulder. 

“I would never, Y/N.” 

You sigh. “Sometimes it feels like everything for me is an ‘almost.’ It just seems like the universe has it out for me and won’t let me be happy because everything I’ve ever wanted keeps getting ripped away just when I think it’s in reach. 

“This stupid date is a first. I feel so fucking humiliated and I hate that I waited as long as I did just for him to not text me or let me know he wasn’t coming. It makes me feel like some sort of pathetic excuse of a human being that he couldn’t give me the decency to give me a heads up.”

“He’s fucked up for that, Y/N. I mean it. Don’t let anyone make you feel bad about it, okay?” 

“Thanks, Jake. This whole Sunghoon thing too…I’ll admit that I’m hurt. Sue me. It was shitty to ghost me and pretend I don’t exist. It’s fucking cowardly not to end it with me face-to-face. But mostly, I feel so fucking ashamed that I even fell for him in the first place.”

“What do you mean?” 

You sink deeper into Jake’s side. “Sunghoon has always attracted attention wherever he goes. Back in high school, everyone thought he was untouchable because he competed in skating competitions and had to miss school to appear on TV. 

But to me, he was just my neighbor who struggled to wake up in the morning or someone I’d see come home late at night after everyone had eaten dinner. It was so weird to me back then, to see someone as young as him do what he did.”

Jake leans the other bottle towards you and you take a long sip. 

“I wanted to be friends with him so bad, Jake. He was so funny without even trying. All the guys and girls in school would laugh because they wanted to be his friend but I thought he had such a unique sense of humor. And he’s way smarter than people gave him credit for. I don’t know how he managed to be a professional skater and a student at the same time.

Then we bumped into each other at that party after three years of not seeing each other. Sunghoon is more confident than he was when we were kids. I think I am too. It was weird talking to him about our hometown when we barely talked, but it felt like we lived the same life.” 

“So why do you feel ashamed?” 

You bite your lip. “I had the biggest crush on him when I was sixteen. We shared only one class together and instead of a final, our teacher said we could have a small holiday party and have secret Santas. Sunghoon picked my name out of the bunch and he gifted me two things—a vinyl of my favorite album and guitar picks.” 

Jake nudges you. “You play guitar?” 

“I remember telling him how shocked I was because the budget was twenty dollars. But Sunghoon said he was at the mall with his friends when he saw this vinyl in the local record store and had to buy it. He told me he was originally just going to give me the guitar picks, but he remembered that all I could talk about before class started was how excited I was for it to come out.” 

“Wow…that’s a pretty sentimental gift.” 

“I was so touched that he did that and remembered something about me. It felt like the first time I was seen by people who weren’t my parents. That turned into a big, fat crush on Sunghoon that ended when he started dating the most popular girl in school at the time. It made sense, you know. Both of them were prom king and queen and that dumb tradition reminded me that I have more to live for than waiting for a boy to like me back.

But then summer happened. It was like I was sixteen all over again and my feelings for Sunghoon never went away. I ran into him getting coffee and we ended up talking for an hour at the coffee shop before we went back to my place. The rest of the summer is history.” 

Jake drinks from the bottle. “Sunghoon was your first love, wasn’t he?”

You groan into your hands. “Don’t remind me.” 

“He’s not on my good side either, babe. Lately he’s been on edge, I guess. He’s more irritable, too. Sunghoon’s short with us and it’s driving me crazy.”

“Seems like he’s the common denominator.”

You drink from the bottle. “I don’t base my value on whether or not I’m dating but…it always feels like I’m losing. It feels like I’m constantly placing second and it kills me that I have to experience this all over again.” 

Jake doesn’t say anything for a while and your buzz is starting to increase. He pulls you in for another hug and sits like that for a good moment until he’s sure you won’t cry again.

“Life is unfair but at least we have soju.” 

You snort. “You got that right. Didn’t you say you guys had a karaoke machine? I think we need to do something that’s not depressing.” 

“When I get the highest score, you better not complain.” 

Jake excuses himself to get more drinks from the kitchen and takes the liberty to text Yuna and Ryujin about what happened that night and that you’ll probably stay over at his place after consuming so much alcohol. They thank him for letting them know and Jake pockets his phone, hoping that the hurt in your soul will disappear when you wake up.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･

It’s two in the morning when Sunghoon comes home unexpectedly.

Jake notices him after the floor creaks under his footsteps and switches his eyes from the television screen to his friend. You fell asleep an hour ago and he didn’t have the heart to wake up, nor drive you back to your place because of the alcohol left in his system. Instead, Jake put a blanket over your body and let you lie your head on the armrest. 

Sunghoon looks between you and Jake. He doesn’t know what to make of it and takes his shoes off to delay the conversation he knows is imminent.

“I thought you were with that girl,” Jake mutters, not bothering to glance at Sunghoon, who is now standing close to him. 

“I couldn’t do it,” Sunghoon tells him. 

“Hm?”

“I said I couldn’t do it. She was kissing me and tried to take my shirt off and I couldn’t go through with it.”

Jake nods. “Okay.”

“Okay…”

“You should probably go to bed. It’s two A.M.” Sunghoon looks at Jake quizzically. 

“Alright? Why is Y/N here?” 

“That’s none of your business,” Jake says with a clipped tone.

“It is my business if she’s in my apartment.” 

“Our apartment.”

“Sure, whatever.” 

Jake’s mouth quirks slightly. “Y/N and I were just hanging out.”

“The two of you, hanging out in the apartment. Right.”

“Why’s that so hard to believe?”

Sunghoon pushes his irritation down. “You guys don’t seem like the type to hang out without the rest of us.”

“I bumped into her tonight and we ended up coming back here and getting drunk. No biggie.”

“You guys got drunk, alone?”

“Why? Is there a problem?”

Sunghoon feels taken aback by Jake’s attitude. He wants to throw it back in his face and ask his friend why he’s acting the way he is, but your sleeping figure prevents him from raising his voice. It’s late and he’s tired, and all he wants to do is figure out if you and Jake are involved. He sticks around for another minute, trying to think of someone to say without tipping Jake off. He balances on both legs, awkwardly shuffling around until Jake sighs loudly.

“We’re not seeing each other.”

Sunghoon chokes, causing Jake to roll his eyes. “W-What?” 

“Y/N and I aren’t hooking up.”

“I didn’t think you were.”

“Sure you weren’t,” Jake smirks, turning his attention back to the TV screen. “You’ve been standing there like an idiot trying to figure out how to talk to me about this.”

“Well…okay then. Good.”

“Good?”

Sunghoon panics. “Yeah. She doesn’t deserve more heartbreak.” Jake laughs and shakes his head, biting his tongue to prevent what he wants to say from tumbling out. 

“That’s rich coming from you, Sunghoon. You of all people don’t get to talk about what Y/N deserves. You’ve been a coward this entire semester and didn’t have the balls to cut it off with her in person.”

“Jake, I—”

“This is the first time I’ve seen you act like a child, bro. You ignore your feelings and then get mad when you see her with me. Which is it? Do you like her or not?”

“It’s not that simple. I just—”

“You just what? Throw away a good thing and ruin it? Ignore the only person in your life who knows you inside and out?”

“I’m afraid that she only likes me because everybody else used to,” Sunghoon confessed. “I’m scared that Y/N doesn’t give two shits about me other than the career I had and where my life is going.” 

Jake scoffs. “I love you, man, but your head is so far up your ass right now. Y/N is the only person who cares about you for the reasons you want. She’s the only person who’s never seen you like some sort of prize to be won and you threw that all away for what exactly? For a girl you barely know?” 

“She’s no one.”

“Precisely,” says Jake. “You keep deluding yourself into thinking all of these girls you meet are perfect for you but you’re self sabotaging. Who’s to say those girls give a fuck about you?” 

Sunghoon remains quiet and allows Jake to be angry at him because he knows he deserves it. He never intended to hurt you. Seeing you stop looking for his eyes at parties or ignoring him when you see him in passing makes Sunghoon believe you’ve stopped trying with him, just like he did with you.

It hurts to know that there’s a possibility of you moving on from him. It’s strange to think you could live a life without him in it because this past summer has taught him how loved he could feel and how he could have it all if he really wanted it. But the happiness and worry-free vacation scared him into oblivion with the recollection that everyone who has ever loved him, has now left.

But not you. You were there for Sunghoon in his youth without him knowing it and you were there for him when he needed a reminder that his life could be more than outgrowing expectations. Sunghoon ran away from it because it felt foreign, and now he’s understanding the weight of his actions when he sees you comfortably sleeping next to his best friend.

“I’m not going to kick Y/N out tonight, by the way. She’s been asleep for an hour and I’m not gonna disrupt her,” Jake says, bringing Sunghoon out of his thoughts. “It’s probably best if you stay in your room until she leaves tomorrow morning.”

He nods and looks at your still figure on the edge of the couch. He wants to see you up close like he did over the summertime and kiss the worry from your pout, but he refrains. Instead, Sunghoon whispers goodnight to the two of you and disappears into the hallway.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･

Sunghoon builds the courage to talk to you when he wakes up the next morning and sees the living room empty. He’s not sure if Jake told you about him arriving earlier than expected. Honestly, he’s not sure what he’s hoping for. 

He prays for a moment to get you alone and that you’ll hear him out. Knowing you were so close but out of his grasp makes Sunghoon’s heart fall to his chest. It feels like a constant battle between what he wants and what he thinks is good for him based on unsavory experiences from his youth. But you’re not just another person to him. 

Sunghoon breaks it off with the girl from the party and he’s more than shocked when she tells him there aren’t any hard feelings. But she says she always noticed the far away look in his eyes and assumed he was still hung up on somebody else in the meantime. Sunghoon apologizes until he feels like it’s enough. 

When he sees you standing outside of the local convenience store by your apartment in the middle of the night, Sunghoon knows it’s time for him to stop being a coward. 

“Y/N,” he says when he approaches. 

You look perfect underneath ungodly fluorescent lights, so much so that he thinks it’s unfair how good you look. The basket in your hand is filled with a few items and Sunghoon is immediately transported to all the nights where the two of you would make midnight runs for late night snacks. It tugs at his heart strings and he wants to turn back time at this moment.

You look at him like you’ve seen a ghost. He knows he’s the last person you expected to run into tonight. It’s clear by the way you’ve taken a step back, carefully dropping a bag of chips in your basket.

“What do you want?” 

Sunghoon tries not to wince at your cold tone.

“Can we talk?”

“What’s there to talk about?”

“Alright,” he says. “I deserve that.” 

You sigh. “You have until I finish shopping to talk.” 

Sunghoon wastes no time and stands beside you at a respectable distance to avoid making you feel uncomfortable. You scan the aisles and he realizes you’re taking your time when he remembers that you know this store like the back of your hand. 

“I’m sorry,” Sunghoon begins. “I’m sorry for ghosting you after our summer together. It was shitty on my part to ignore you and then have you see me with another girl.” 

“Is that all?” you asked him with a clipped tone. “Is that really what you wanted to tell me?” 

“No,” he rebukes, swallowing harshly. “You deserve that apology at the least. I don’t know why I did it. I guess a lot of my fears about holding people close scared the shit out of me because everyone leaves eventually and I was scared that you’d be one of them.

“I know it was fucked up not to talk to you about this before we came back to school. I could tell something was bothering you but I was so selfish and tried to convince myself that we’d be okay once we left home. I’m so fucking sorry for ignoring you and making you feel like you weren’t worth my time, Y/N. But I’m here to tell you that I’m so in love with you and that I’m so, so fucking sorry.” 

You stop in your tracks and shut your eyes. He watches you breathe in and holds his breath. Sunghoon’s hands are shaking and his heartbeat feels like it’s running as fast as a bullet train when you turn around to face him. When you open your eyes, all he can see is disappointment. 

“You were everything to me, you know? Back in grade school, everyone used to talk about you like you were a God but I was the only person who talked to you like a human being. I know you know that. I was the only person your age who didn’t make you feel like you had to meet expectations. 

When we reconnected over the summer, it felt like I was struck by lightning, or something. God, I had the biggest crush on you when we were in high school but you never looked at me like that because I wasn’t one of the girls who was popular enough to be seen with you. But I know we were all caught up in stereotypes and childish behavior. I don’t blame you for that.”

Sunghoon follows you to another aisle.

“Then summer happened. You treated me like your girlfriend and you talked about the future like I was going to be part of it. You messed with my head when you’d hold me in public and kiss me when we had sex. You confused me when you stopped texting me and when you decided to hookup with some girl without breaking it off with me. I don’t give a shit if you didn’t like me back. The decent thing to do would’ve been to tell me you wanted to stop whatever it was we had.

I feel so fucking humiliated to think you could’ve ever reciprocated my feelings for you. I hate that I let you back into my life just for you to treat me the way you did. It makes me feel like I’m not good enough for you and I don’t want to feel like that anymore.” 

“But I love you,” Sunghoon croaks with tears forming in his eyes. 

“Well, it’s too late for that.” 

You walk to the cashier without looking behind you. Sunghoon feels frozen on his ground but sees your figure becoming smaller before he rushes to stand next to you and pull out his wallet.

“Paying for my shit won’t fix this.” 

“I know,” Sunghoon says softly while he hands the cashier his credit card. “Just let me. Please.” 

You don’t intervene. You don’t say anything when he steps out of the store with you or when he offers to walk you home because it’s dark out and you know it’s a ten minute journey. You don’t say anything when the wind blows renders you cold, but you decline when Sunghoon offers your jacket. 

“Thanks for walking me,” you say when you reach your front door. “Sunghoon, I want to believe that you’re sorry and you regret what you did, but that doesn’t change the fact that you hurt me. I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of this back and forth. It’s time we both move on, don’t you think?”

His mouth feels dry and Sunghoon thinks he might shatter into a million pieces in front of you. He feels his heart breaking when you turn around to unlock your door and when you don’t spare him a glance as you walk inside. Sunghoon stays with his mouth slightly ajar as he stares at your front door, replaying your words in his head. 

With a heavy heart, Sunghoon begins to walk home and lets his tears fall until his vision becomes blurry.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･

“Now you know I’m not one to give men the benefit of the doubt, but Jake says he can hear Sunghoon crying in his room every night.”

Ryujin and Yuna sit on your bed while you’re sitting on the chair at your desk. They pick at the pillows decorating the mattress while you kick your feet up and place them on top of the blanket.

“And, as we know, Sunghoon doesn’t cry,” says Yuna.

“Serves him right,” you say. You don’t deny that it makes your heart hurt for him, but your anger and pride prevent you from expressing any sadness for Sunghoon.

“Based on what you told us, it really sounded like Sunghoon’s apology came from the bottom of his heart and it wasn’t a cop out to make himself feel better.” Yuna hugs your pillow closer to her. “It’s clear that you two still love each other.”

“But it doesn’t matter, Yuna. Not when the thought of ghosting me crossed his mind. It hurts to know that there was even a time when Sunghoon thought I wasn’t worth keeping around.” 

“We can all agree he was a fucking idiot but there’s a reason why he’s crying every night and why he didn’t make up excuses when you told him how you felt,” says Ryujin. “That’s gotta count for something.”

“Jesus, you two must really believe him if you’re saying all of this.”

Yuna shrugs. “Obviously we don’t know him as well as you do but we know him well enough. What he did was terrible, no doubt about that. But it’s been weeks since you guys saw each other and you’re both so miserable.”

“Hey!” you shout, plucking an eraser off of your desk and flinging it at her. “I’m not miserable.”

“Sure,” Ryujin snorts. “There’s no use in lying to us when you know we’ll call you out.” She smiles in satisfaction when you huff. 

“We’re not saying you need to marry him or even absolve what he did,” Yuna advises. “But we both know you’re not moving on from him. You’re hurt and we get that but you’ve loved him all your life. That feeling will never go away.”

“What if he hurts me again?” you ask. “What if he decides that he’s going to stop communicating with me because I’m not what he wants anymore?” 

“The man told you he was in love with you in front of strangers in a convenience store,” Yuna deadpans. “Even if he does decide it’s over, you’ll be strong and you’ll know how to stand your ground.”

“If you don’t go for it, you’ll know how it’ll end. But come on, Y/N. You’re so in love with Sunghoon that you still yearn for him even after you told him to move on from you. Don’t you think you deserve to be happy too?” 

You bite your lip. Ryujin and Yuna look at you with all the love and care in the world, and for a moment you wonder if Sunghoon has ever looked at you like that. 

Ryujin speaks. “Again, you know I’m the last person to vouch for a man, but this is Sunghoon. He’s the guy you love more than life and someone who will never be able to move on from you.” 

“You have to realize that,” Yuna says. “You’re everything to him.” 

“I don’t know.”

“But you care so much for him. I mean, you were ready to bolt out of the apartment to check up on him when I told you he’s been crying.” 

“Fuck you guys,” you say in distress, hiding your face in your lap. They laugh and come to stand next to you, pulling your body in an upright position and smothering you in between them. 

“Just talk to him, at least. See where it goes. If it doesn’t work out, at least you could say you tried.”

“And you know,” Yuna says, “sometimes trying your best is enough.” 

You gather yourself and put your shoes on when Ryujin hands you a tissue. Yuna grabs her car keys and tells you she’ll drive and that they’ll wait for as long as you need in case you need any back up. You hug both of them like you’re afraid they’ll slip away but they tell you that everything will be just fine. 

Heeseung is the one who answers the door when you knock. He’s shocked to see you but lets you in when Jay and Jake spot you from the living room. Sunghoon sits between them on the couch when Jake nudges his side. 

When he meets your eyes, he understands what it means to have the wind knocked out of his lungs. He wipes a stray tear from his eyes and you wonder if he knows how your heart is breaking for him all over again. 

“We’ll be outside,” Jake says to cut the silence. The three boys walk out and join Yuna and Ryujin in the car when they see them parked out front. 

“Hi,” you say quietly, standing awkwardly with your weight shifting from one leg to the other. 

Sunghoon stands abruptly and nearly trips over the blanket covering his lap to get to you. You stifle a grin when you remember why you’re here in the first place and you hate that you melt whenever he’s around you. 

“Y/N, hi,” Sunghoon says. “W-What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been thinking about what you said that night you apologized,” you tell him. “I didn’t think you loved me the way you said you did until Jake told us you’ve been crying for weeks.”

“How could I not love you?” he asks timidly. Sunghoon wants to reach for your hand but refrains because he feels like it’s too soon. 

“I don’t know.” 

“You’re everything to me, Y/N. You’re the person I want to talk to at the end of the day and the person who sees the best in me. You’ve never made me feel like I wasn’t enough and it was so stupid of me to think that you would’ve turned out to be somebody who would leave me. You’ve been so nice to me since we were kids and all I did was make you feel like you weren’t good enough.”

“Hoon—”

“I don’t want you to think I’m saying all of this to get you to feel a certain way. But fuck, I love you, and all I want is for you to be happy. You of all people deserve that at the minimum.” Sunghoon nods and sniffles. “You deserve the world and I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t.” 

“I won’t say that everything’s okay,” you begin. Sunghoon nods and casts his gaze to the floor. “I’ve never felt so passionately about someone before you, Sunghoon. I don’t think I ever knew what to do about my feelings for you. It was so hard watching you date people in high school who I knew were only with you because they thought you’d become famous.

Everyday I wished you would look at me like you looked at them. And then you did, but you made me so confused when we came back that I convinced myself it must’ve been an illusion.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“But I know you mean what you say.” You sigh, taking a step forward towards him. “I know you’re being honest with me. I know you well enough to know when you’re lying.”

“I’m not lying about this,” Sunghoon’s wears immediately. 

“I know you love me. I know because you don’t cry about things so easily. You’re resilient like that and you’ve always pushed through. The only time I saw you like this was when you didn’t qualify for that skating competition back in grade school. But even then, you just trained harder until you qualified for the next one. 

What I’m trying to say is, I don’t hate you and it would feel weird if you weren’t in my life. I don’t know where that leads us but it’s only fair that I’m honest if that’s what I expected of you.”

“I want you and only you,” Sunghoon tells you. “You are the best part of me and everyone knows that too. I love you, Y/N. I love you so much.” 

Sunghoon almost doesn’t believe it when your hands cup his jawline. He doesn’t believe he’s awake when your lips touch his and when you push yourself into him like you’re afraid you’ll fall.

He holds you delicately and reciprocates your kiss. Sunghoon doesn’t dare to push you further, allowing you to take the lead and set the pace at your own discretion. When you pull away, he looks at you with plump lips and closes his eyes when he feels your thumbs wipe away his tears. 

“I love you too,” you say. “I didn’t spend all of my life crushing on you just for this not to work out.” 

Sunghoon laughs for the first time with you and it makes him feel like the weight of the world is no longer on his shoulders. He holds his hand with yours and kisses your palm twice. 

“We should probably let the guys back in, huh?” 

“I say we should all have a movie night,” you suggest. “I mean, the five of them didn’t put up with us for nothing.” 

Sunghoon opens the door and beckons all of them inside, still keeping a hold on your hand as you kick your shoes to the side. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Jay says with a smile. “It’s about time!”

“We love you man,” Heeseung says as he high-fives Sunghoon. He gives you a side hug when he enters the apartment. “I’m really happy for you, Y/N.”

“So are you guys dating now?” Ryujin asks. 

“We still have a lot to talk about but I think we’re on the same page,” you tell her. Sunghoon kisses the crown of your head and your friends are amused when you smile. 

“Y/N suggested we should have a movie night,” Sunghoon says. “I’m down for it if you guys are.”

“I am SO raiding your liquor,” says Yuna. Jay follows in tow and starts preparing the popcorn while Heeseung fetches more blankets and pillows.

“You know,” Jake says with a smirk on his face, “this is so going in my speech when you two get married.” 

You and Sunghoon choke and struggle to speak.

“M-Married?” Sunghoon stutters. 

“Don’t act like you don’t fantasize about Y/N being your wife. And you,” Jake says while pointing in your direction, “don’t act like Hoon isn’t what you think about day and night.”

“Shut the fuck up, Jaeyun,” you whine with heat crawling up your cheeks. You turn to bury your face in Sunghoon’s chest. 

“No, don’t hide.” He pries you off of him with a pout. “It’s cute. You’re cute.” Sunghoon kisses your cheek as Jake claps his hands.

“Just remember what I said!”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mutter, waving Jake off. “Whatever you say.” 

When enough time has passed for the dust to settle and for water to flow under the bridge, neither you nor Sunghoon are too surprised when Jake manages to make your friends laugh as he tells them the story of tonight after the graduation ceremony.

Jake watches as Sunghoon fixes the tassel on your cap as his mom stands to take a photo of your friend group before your life truly begins. The familiar sensation of pride swells within him when he watches the two of you, almost like it was almost meant to be.

In a way, it was.

*✧･ﾟ─────────── *✧･

taglist: @enha-stars @karinasbaby @baevsxii @lillotus17 @syzavxy @mrmld @nikilvrfuvyev @notevenheretbh1 @wvnkoi @seungiesgf @kgneptun @judeduartewannabe @iheartjayke @wonsbubble @ilyjxdz @foggysfrog @oddracha @haechansbbg @tobiosbbyghorl @ryunjin0 @sharksandminhos @jungwoneez @alex-is-sleeping @minjaexvz @woninluv @engeneeee-168 @friendlyuser57 @moony-mari @trdhgg @sleepyhoon @sunghoonsgfreal @i02hoonz @riksaes @021894s @zeeloveshee @jwnghyuns @vhuteryh @cloudiesblog @awsome209 @fleurixzs.

[scalingsvt8thusiast]

Wait for your love (angst)

summary: you wait in silence, waiting for wonwoo to finally love you

inspired by Ariana Grande's We Can't be Friends (AKA Wait for your love)

a/n: I wrote this in a fever dream, some suggestive themes but nothing much apart from that. It's a 2 part fic. so look out for part 2 I guess :D

I didn’t think you’d understand me

You remembered the first interaction you had with Wonwoo. You had asked him for help with some maths question back in high school. 

“I don’t think that’s the right answer…” You whispered, watching him flush red as he rummaged through his pencil case clumsily looking for his eraser. 

“My maths isn’t very good!” He cried, erasing the answer that was so far off. 

“Oh! How about we try this!” You stuck your tongue out as you worked on the question using another method. 

The both of you flipped to the back of the book to check the answer. You remembered the look of awe Wonwoo gave you when your answer was right. 

Wonwoo was the quiet kid, the one who sat at the last row of class, always looking out the window, not paying attention in class. He wasn’t a star student or an athlete so on the popularity scale he was basically non-existent. You weren’t far off either. Pigtails and braces meant you weren’t much higher than him on that god-forsaken scale. But that’s what brought the two of you together. 

After that first interaction, you started warming up to your quiet seatmate. You joined him in the cafeteria, asked him out on study dates, even dragging him to his first hangout. You liked to think that he just accepted his fate, the two of you were destined to be friends. 

Somewhere along the line of your friendship, you started developing feelings for the scrawny boy. You couldn’t pin point exactly when or what caused your infatuation. You just remembered realising his facial features were so sharp, his shoulders were so broad and his hands were so large and warm. Was it when your hands met in the popcorn tub during the Star Wars reruns at your local cinema? Was it when you stared too deeply into his eyes during a round of cards? Was it when he picked you up and ran a whole lap around the park to prove a point?

You couldn’t remember. But it felt like you had been liking him for the longest time.

I’ll wait for your love

Everything changed after graduation. 

The break before university was due to start, you had gone off to stay with relatives in Paris while Wonwoo had gone off to stay with his brother in Seoul. The two of you were scheduled to attend the same universities, even scheduled to live together. It was only natural considering how long you two had been friends. He would arrive from Seoul first and you were due to arrive 2 weeks after, just in time for the first day of school. 

You were thoroughly surprised by the boy man who greeted you at the front door. 

“Wonwoo?” You said, blinking rapidly. 

Where was the scrawny, skinny boy you were familiar with? Who replaced him with this tall, handsome and extremely well built man?

“Y/n!” Wonwoo beamed at you, immediately helping you with your bags. 

You were momentarily taken aback by his voice. His high pitched, nasally voice had developed into a deep baritone. 

“How was Seoul?” You had managed to croak out, still dumb struck by the massive change your best friend went through.

“Great. I actually met quite a few friends in the same uni.” Wonwoo’s eyes held an excited glint.

You hummed, wondering how your anti-social and shy friend had managed to become a social butterfly. 

You should have known that was the first sign of the inevitable downfall of your friendship. 

Throughout the next few weeks, you were busy trying to get settled into your new life while Wonwoo was busy partying his life away. He would leave each night and return at wee hours of morning.

You remembered the first time you went to pick him up. 

“Y/n,” He drawled over the phone. 

You turned to check the clock, it was 4AM. “Wonwoo?”

“Can you come-,” A loud cheer erupted in the background. “Can you come get me?” 

“Oh, ok!” You said, pushing your blanket aside. “Text me the add-,”

He hung up. 

DING

You received the location from him.

Trying to look as presentable as possible, you hopped into your car. Driving to your best friend with Google Maps as guidance. 

You arrived at the party, expecting Wonwoo to be waiting for you by the road, ready to leave. But he was nowhere to be found. Wonwoo wasn’t waiting for you in front of the house, he wasn’t even standing with the groups of people near the front door. 

You tried his phone again but you were sent straight to voicemail. You jumped out of the car and went into the house. You tried your best to push through the multitudes of drunk people, looking for your best friend. Finally you found him, playing beer pong and boy, did he suck. 

“Won?” You said, coming up next to him. 

“Y/N!” He shouted, throwing his arms around you, dragging you into his chest for a hug. 

“Won, let’s go.” You coaxed, your nose crinkled from the strong stench of alcohol. 

“Everybody!” Wonwoo bellowed, “This is my friend! Y/N!”

You were horrified as everybody turned to look at you. You gave an awkward smile and squeezed his arm.

“Wonwoo, let’s go, please.” You begged, you had a class in 2 hours and you wanted to get home in time for at least 1 more hour of sleep. 

“But y/n, you just got here!” Wonwoo whined, he pouted. 

“Oh God, Woo, please.” You implored, biting your lip. You weren’t comfortable, you didn’t know anybody here and you had an overgrown child hanging onto you. 

“Okay,” Wonwoo quipped. “But only because you asked nicely.”

That was how you managed to get your housemate home. 

Wonwoo never apologised. He didn’t speak to you the whole week, he kept himself shut in his room while you went about your day. You tried knocking on his door, offering some food you had made but he never responded. 

After that incident, you noticed that he would do it more often. He would call you at odd hours of the morning, asking you to come pick him up, flirt with you then subsequently pass out on the couch. 

You found yourself getting hopeful. You deluded yourself into thinking that Wonwoo was doing this because you were the only person he trusted. You just had to wait a little longer for him to realise his feelings for you. You just had to wait.  

“Y/n, I love you soooo much,” Wonwoo slurred, you had slung one of his arms around your shoulder, walking him to your car. 

“Won, please.” You said, trying your best not to be effected by his empty words. You pushed him against the car while you fumbled for your car keys. 

Suddenly you felt your world spin, when it stopped you were face to face with your best friend. Wonwoo had flipped you over, your back now pressed against the car, his arms to your sides, caging you. His face was a whole ten centimetres away from yours. You could feel his breath on your face, your heart beat rapidly rising, one of your hands gripping his bicep to keep yourself steady. 

“Y/n, you’re so pretty.” He muttered, he placed a hand on your cheek. His eyes were on your lips. His tongue licking his own. 

“You’re drunk.” You whispered, you used all your strength to push against his chest. 

He didn’t move. Next thing you know, his lips were on yours. 

That was how you lost your first kiss to your best friend.

You cling to your papers and pens, wait until you like me again

After that kiss (wherein he subsequently passed out on you), Wonwoo seemed to avoid you even more. 

He no longer called you when he needed a ride home, instead his friends would send him home. You had met 3 of his friends: Mingyu, Vernon and Seungcheol. They each seemed to take turns dragging Wonwoo’s drunk ass into the house. Surprisingly they would all be sober each time. Which made you wonder if Wonwoo just had a habit of calling random people to send him home. 

“Y/n?” Wonwoo’s voice came.

You shot up from the dining table, you had just been busy revising for your upcoming tutorial. Wonwoo never spoke to you, so this was a shock. 

“I was wondering,” He cleared his throat, “could you help me with this?” 

You blinked, he was holding a few pieces of paper. 

“Sure!” You chirped, a little too cheerily. 

Of course you would help your best friend. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t spoke to you in months. It didn’t matter that he had ignored you when you tried to wave at him on campus. It didn’t matter that he pretended not to know you among his new friends.

Wonwoo was your best friend, so you were going to bury your feelings and help him. 

“Thanks.” He smiled. 

That smile that made your stomach do a summersault. That smile that threw you back to your teenage years, when he would smile at you and only you. 

It became a routine. He only spoke to you when he needed help with work. Even though you weren’t in the same course as him, you found yourself studying up on what he needed, just so you could help him. 

You found yourself staying up late, studying for both your finals as well as his finals. Just so when he came home the next day from some party, you could help him. 

You helped him because that was the only chance you had to speak to him. 

You helped him because that was the only time he showed you any attention. 

You helped him because you loved him. 

Just wanna let this story die

Wonwoo brought a girl home. 

It was 4AM in the morning, you were cramming for your exams the next day after looking through Wonwoo’s materials for his tutorial the day after. You could literally feel your head overheating with all the knowledge you were shoving into your brain. You stood up, deciding to stretch out your unused muscles when you heard the front door open. It was opened with so much force that the door banged onto the wall, causing you to jump. 

“Wony!!!” You heard a voice, it wasn’t that low voice you so loved from your house mate. It was a high pitched squeal which you were sure your house mate could not have produced. 

A yelp could be heard followed by loud shushes. 

You pushed your door open a smidge, peeking out into the hallway.

You blood ran cold.

Right by the front door was Wonwoo, making out with a girl.

You could feel a lump growing in your throat as you shut your door. You closed your eyes, trying your best to erase the sight. The image of your best friend’s lust-ladened eyes, arms encircled around another girl, lips on hers was burnt forever your memory. 

You felt yourself crumple against the floor. Your stared blankly into space for what felt like hours. The pit in your stomach grew with every second that passed. When you finally found the energy, you crawled over to your bed. Tears seeped from the corner of your eyes as you buried your face into your pillow. Trying to muffle the loud moans and groans coming from the other room. You brought a hand to your mouth, trying not to make a sound as you cried yourself to sleep.

So for now it’s only me, and maybe that’s all I need

“He’s a fucking asshole.” Chan cursed. 

You smiled weakly at your friend. The two of you sat in a booth at Chan’s favourite bar. You didn’t drink but he did. Chan had forced you out after you refused to leave your room for weeks.

“He knows you have feelings for him.” Chan hissed. “There’s no fucking way he doesn’t.”

You shrugged. After much pestering, you had finally relayed everything to Chan. Everything. From when you first met Wonwoo to when he brought a girl home. 

“I thought I would wai-,” You voice came out as a whisper, ashamed.

“Please don’t tell me. Wait?” Chan finished for you, tilting his glass of beer towards you. 

“Yup.” You said with a sigh. 

“Why wait for someone like him? Why wait for someone who doesn’t even care about you?” Chan said, sounding angrier and angrier by the second. 

His question stung. Deep down, you didn’t want to admit it, but you knew Wonwoo didn’t care about you. You knew he was just using you, keeping you around only because you made his life convenient. 

“Move out.” Chan demanded. 

“What?” You blurted, “Chan, I can’t just move out!” 

“Yes you can.” Chan pointed to himself. “Move in with me, I have a spare room!” 

“But what about Wonwoo?”

“What about that asshole?” Chan rolled his eyes. 

“I can’t just leave him like that.” You said, exasperated. You weren’t about to leave your best friend alone. 

“Why not?” Chan argued. “You think he won’t do the same to you? He’ll drop you the first chance he gets, y/n.”

You felt tears well up in your eyes. You loved Chan but there were times when he was too blunt. 

“Chan, please.” You whispered, tears started rolling down your eyes. 

“Ok, I’m sorry.” Chan immediately panicked. “I’m sorry I said that.”

He moved to sit next to you, rubbing your back as you sobbed into your bowl of fries. 

You moved out the next day, without so much as a goodbye to your childhood friend. 

a/n2: not very good at writing, quality is absolute crap imo considering i wrote this in under an hour. anything you guys think I should improve in lmk!

[deadsetobsessions]

Tim had forgotten, in his one man (and the admittedly liberal usage of hired guns) crusade at everything that had hurt his family, that he was technically a child. A time traveling 21 year old Tim Drake in his younger body, sure, but he’s still a nine year old child.

Tim was violently, unpleasantly reminded of this as he opened his front door to… Gotham Primary’s truancy officer.

Oh shit. He still had to go to school. Tim scrambled for an excuse.

“Hello, Timothy. Are your parents home?”

“Uh- no, sir. Only my nanny. I’ve been really,” think, Timothy, think! Are you Red Robin for nothing? “really sick. She went out for some medicine.”

Tim knew what the officer saw as he looked down at him, a pale, drawn little boy who looked like a sickly Victorian child. He has no idea that Tim had the beginnings of lean muscles and strong grip strength underneath his baggy clothes.

“I see. I’ll have to talk to your nanny, then. We need to be informed of when you’re ill, Timothy.”

“Oh. She-” shit, shit, shit! “Doesn’t speak English.” Was that racist? That felt racist. Gods, he probably sounds like a snobby classist elite. “I’ll let my mom know to email you, sir?”

The truancy officer sighed. By Tim’s lucky stars, he agreed. The man pulled out a singular paper from his plastic folder, clearly used to this kind of thing, especially from the elites of Gotham, and said, “Email the school. And have her sign this note, please.”

Tim nodded seriously. Like hell he would.

When the officer was gone, Tim closed the gate immediately. He had forgotten to close it after getting back home from stalking the Bats last night. Well, Bat, singular, because Jason was still benched.

Tim sighed, grabbing a pen to fluidly forge Janet Drake’s signature on his paper about truancy and proper procedures and what not. Then, he moved to the computer, easily stealing his mother’s credentials, emailing the school about his sick leave, and their decision to have him home schooled.

He’d miss Ives, but honestly, Tim needed the free time. Plus, maybe this way, he’ll graduate high school this time around. He drafted another email to the counselor, asking them what kind of curriculum and tests he needed to pass to obtain future degrees and what not.

He gets an email back, with all of the testing required and the steps “Young Timothy” should take in order to succeed in the rest of his academic career. Tim would like to point out he’s nine, and that this was pretentious. Helpful, sure, but pretentious all the same.

“That’s what people don’t mention about time traveling. It’s all fun and games until you get hit with the mundane and tedious things.” Tim muttered, setting up his appointments for testing. He’ll have to find someone to drive him to the tests…

His mind turned to his neighbors… hm. That’s a possibility.

Tim wiped all traces of his activities from his mother’s email, doing a quick and hidden bit of rerouting to get any educational emails regarding him sent to his own inbox.

Tim swigged a mouthful of coffee and continued on his merry way.

His new goal?

Find Cassandra Cain.

[rafesfavgirl]

with a broken heart — r. cameron

part 1. something a little more lighthearted to make up for breaking y'alls hearts :)

series: every few lifetimes

❝ i was grinning like i'm winning  i was hitting my marks 'cause i can do it with a broken heart ❞

pairing: ex-bf!rafe x fem!reader

context: after getting your heart broken, you pack your bags and leave the obx, only to come face to face with rafe again, eight years later.

words: 2.4k+

warnings: rafe and reader are aged up (26/27), old flames, FLUFF

"now remember, this client's a big prospect," your boss says as you follow him out of the office car and into the building you were scoping out today. "i guarantee if you can close this deal, you'll be well on your way to becoming the next junior partner."

"hank, are you serious?" you stop in your tracks and he looks at you. 

when you first left the outer banks for new york, you went to nyu without a clue on what you wanted to do with the rest of your life. somewhere along the way, you graduated magna cum laude and pursued law school at columbia. your first year, hank took you on as an intern, and by the time you graduated, you had a job lined up for you at one of the biggest real estate agencies in the world. and though you knew how well you did your job, becoming junior partner as a second-year associate was way beyond where you thought you'd be—it was nothing short of a dream come true.

"don't think what you've done for this company has been lost on me, y/n," he tells you. "you're an asset. i knew it since that first summer i took you on as an intern."

a smile comes across your lips. "well, i can't disappoint," you say. "let's close this fucking deal."

"that's what i like to hear, come on," he continues leading you through the building, until the two of you reached a tall guy with a buzzcut wearing a navy blue suit scoping out the place.

"mr. cameron," you don't miss the familiar name when you and your boss stop behind him, your breath hitching when the guy turns around to greet you both. "this is-"

"y/n," your name rolls off rafe's tongue the same way it always did, your heart beating so hard you feared it'd jump out of your chest.

hank's eyes shift between the two of you, as he shakes rafe's hand. "you two know each other?"

"yeah," rafe nods, his eyes set on you—he couldn't believe that you were actually standing in front of him. a part of him thought that when you left the obx he'd never see you again. "we uh— we went to high school together."

"well that's wonderful," hank smiles. "no need for the awkward introduction then."

except— it was awkward. you didn't just go to high school together. you fell in love in high school. and two months before you chose to go to nyu, rafe broke your heart.

"y/n here will be the one walking you through the contract, and hopefully setting you up with one of our best architects," hank explains to him, while you continue trying to process the fact that he was actually here.

what were the odds that he was the client you needed to win over in order to make junior partner? 

—

"so, does that all sound good to you?" you finish going over the contract for the building and look at rafe.

the two of you hovered over a table in the empty space that you'd spread out all the documents on.

"yeah, y/n, it all sounds great." the smile he throws your way makes your stomach turn in the worst way—making you realize that the piece of your heart that never stopped beating for him still existed. "where do i sign?"

"uh— right here," you pick up your pen to draw x's on all the lines he had to sign on, before holding it out to him.

he takes it from you, and you watch as he leans over to sign on each and everyone of them, your eyes trailing over how well his suit fit him.

he must hit the gym at least four times a week, you thought. he's grown quite a bit since you last saw him.

"there you go," rafe hands the pen back out to you, and you take it from him with a smile.

"thank you," you say. "you won't regret it."

"oh, i know," he nods, eyes scanning over your face. "i'd never regret anything that involves you."

you feel the heat rise on your cheeks, but you keep it professional, gathering the files on the table back into your folder. "well then, i'll leave you with the contacts of our architects and if you have any further questions, you can reach out to hank or any of the other executives."

"yeah, okay," he replies, hiding his disappointment in the fact that you didn't tell him to contact you with any questions he may have.

"it was a pleasure doing business with you, mr. cameron," you hold out a hand to him for a handshake and he stares at it for a second, before reluctantly placing his hand in yours.

"it sure was," he smiles. "but you know you can just call me rafe, don't you?"

"this is how i address all my clients," you tell him. "it's just the professional thing to do."

"yeah, yeah, i get it," he nods. "guess i'm just not used to it coming from you."

you crack a smile at his somewhat nervous stance—you weren't used to seeing him this way. "it was nice to see you again, rafe. good luck with everything."

"yeah," he grins. "you too."

you turn to walk away, while rafe stays back, scratching the back of his head in contemplation before calling out to you. "hey y/n?"

"yeah?" you ask, stopping to look at him again.

"you got any plans tonight?"

"rafe, i-"

"oh, come on," he cuts you off, slowly closing the distance between you two. "there's no reason we can't be friends, right?"

wrong—there were many reasons. one being that you spent years piecing yourself back together after he decided to give up on you. 

"let's catch up," he persists, his blue eyes locking with yours. "get a drink with me tonight."

despite your head screaming no, you agree. "one drink," you say, causing a smile to spread across his face. "ten o'clock. meet me at the bar on fifth."

—

the second you walk into the bar, rafe rises from his stool at the counter and waves you over. he had gotten there 30 minutes early to make sure you weren't left waiting for him—you'd done enough of that.

"hey," he seems nervous when you reach him, wiping his hands on his slacks before reluctantly wrapping his arms around you in a hug.

you resist the urge to giggle—it was kinda entertaining to see this six-foot-two tall man get nervous around you—and briefly return his hug.

"have you been here long?" you ask, taking off your jacket and taking a seat in the empty stool beside him.

"nah, just about five minutes or so," he lies, shrugging and giving you a lopsided smile, as the bartender walks up to greet you both.

"anything i can get you?" she asks, eyes lingering on rafe for a little longer than you.

"just a glass of whiskey for me," rafe tells her. "neat."

"and i'll just have a glass of pinot noir," you say, when the girl turns to look at you. "thank you."

"and you can just put it on this," rafe reaches into his back pocket for his wallet, and you cut in. "rafe, you don't have to-"

"nonsense," he shakes his head at you and slides his black amex across to the bartender. "i invited you out. it's on me."

the bartender picks up his card, and gives him a smile. "rafe cameron. i'll remember that."

subtly, rafe rolls his eyes and you hold back a snicker. "please don't."

the bartender huffs as her eyes shifts between the two of you, but walks away without another word to get your drinks and charge rafe's card.

you kink a brow at him. "you get bartenders flirting with you a lot?"

"i guess it happens every now and then," he shrugs.

"it's definitely the buzz," you tell him, as a different bartender brings over your drinks and hands rafe back his card.

"thank you," he briefly acknowledges him, before turning his attention back on you, an amused smile on his face. "you think?"

"yeah," you nod, bringing your wine glass up to take a sip. "it makes you look older— more mature. it suits you."

he cracks a smile, a small chuckle slipping out from between his lips. "and being a lawyer suits you."

"you really think so?"

"yeah," he nodded, taking a sip of his whiskey. "you looked so cute all dressed up in your little suit," those words make the heat rise on your cheeks, and you hide it with your wine glass. "i've never seen you more in your element. what made you choose law?"

"well…" you trail off, wondering whether or not you should tell him the truth. oh, fuck it. "after we broke up, i found out got into nyu. i was so… mad and hurt over you ending it that i packed my bags and i left, without looking back. during the summers, i stayed here and worked internships with the school just so i'd have an excuse not to go home."

he listened intently, a look of indifference falling across his features. a part of him was hurt at hearing that he'd broken your heart so badly you felt the need to leave, but the other part was proud. you really did that. figured your shit out and made a life for yourself—just like he always knew you would.

"after my second year, i worked an internship with a property management company in brooklyn. we scoped out places all around the city, and i don't know… i kinda just fell in love with it. seeing how happy people got when we'd found them the right apartment or the right space for them to start their business just made me feel really good. so i declared real estate as my major junior year and decided on law school," you continued.

"doll, that's amazing," he smiled, blue eyes twinkling. "which law school did you go to?"

"columbia," you reply, his eyes only widening in amazement. no words could describe the amount of pride in his chest right now. "but enough about me. what about you?"

"oh— uh…" he started and set his whiskey down on the bar. "after you left, i went to rehab. went in and out of that place for about two or three years… i mean, you knew how bad it was— wasn't easy."

you frown upon hearing his struggles with rehab and relapsing, but nod along as he continues.

"been clean for about four years now though," he shrugs, as if it wasn't some big accomplishment.

"rafe, that's amazing," you tell him, setting your glass down on the bar. "good for you."

"i had to," he nodded. "not only for me, but for dad, too. he was starting to talk business and expanding the company, and i just… i couldn't let him down. especially not after i let you down."

you glance down, no longer being able to meet his eyes. you knew that your past together had to come up at one point, you just weren't ready for it. mainly because even after all this time, there was still that little piece of your heart that never stopped belonging to him. it would always be his. "rafe…"

"i hope i'm not being too forward when i ask you this but…" his hand reaches out to touch yours, and you look up at him. "are you seeing anyone?"

"no, i'm not," you shake your head. "after we broke up, i didn't really date much. and even when i did, nothing ever really stuck."

that was enough to have a smile crack across his his, eyes brighter than you'd seen them in a really long time. "guess that makes two of us."

"guess so," you shrug, thoughts running through your mind a hundred times a minute as you try to find a way to change the subject. you weren't ready for where this conversation was about to go. at least, not yet. "but, uh— tell me about cameron development, how's that going?"

he chuckles at your eagerness to change the subject, as you sipped on your wine, but goes with it. he'd break you down again. eventually.

—

after finishing your drinks at the bar, rafe offered to walk you home since your apartment was only about a block or two away, assuring you that he'd just get a cab back to his hotel afterward.

and while a part of you screamed at you to say no, that little piece of your heart that still beat for him won over, and you agreed.

"well, this is me," you say, stopping in front of your apartment complex and looking at him. "it was really nice to see you, rafe."

"so that's it?" he asks, catching you off guard. "this just ends here?"

he takes a step towards you, making your heart pitter-patter, as his eyes scanned your face.

"rafe-"

"don't you ever wonder…" he cuts you off, his gaze lingering on your lips for just a moment before his eyes shifted to meet yours. "what we could've been? what we could be?"

"i-"

"i know i fucked shit up with you, a'ight?" he said, hand coming up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

the gesture threatens to make your eyes flutter close at the feeling of his familiar touch, but you keep your composure.

"i was young and i was stupid, and i thought you deserved better," he continued. "but y/n, there isn't a day that has gone by in the last eight years that you haven't crossed my mind. i think about you all the time, just hoping for the day you'd finally come back to the banks."

your breath hitches at his confession, that tiny piece of your heart that held onto him, growing three sizes.

"i know i don't deserve a second chance, i know that," he told you. "but i'm not the guy i was back in high school. i'm clean now, and i've turned my life around. i can be that guy for you now. the one you needed me to be all those years ago."

"okay," you whisper.

"what?" he musn't have heard you right.

"i'd be lying to myself if i said i haven't thought about you either, rafe," you say.

a small chuckle falls from his lips, which spread into a smile. "seriously?"

you nod. "come pick me up at seven tomorrow. let's give it a chance."

part 3 coming soon!!

i'm rooting for them tbh

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

click here to be added to my tag list!!

tags: @chiaraanatra @ijustwanttoreadlols @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesgiirl @solanathascientst @10ava01 @werewhatkilledthedinosaurs @void21 @groovycass @azrielsgirll @rroslitas @crvptidgf @star-girl-05 @redhead1180 @shadyshadyy @prettypimpcess12 @emotionsmgcbabe @outerbankspov @letmeintourheart @gublerstylesobrien1238

[thel0v3hashira143]

❝ 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐘𝐄𝐒! ❝

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ married life with jjk men ☆ yuuji megumi gojo geto nanami n ino!

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masterlist 💕

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ warnings: fem!reader, reader is a sorcerer, black coded but anyone can read, mentions of sex/pregnancy/kids, mentions of breakups

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ notes: sorry they're kinda short!! i abandoned my ap chem work to do this so pls like it up!😞😞inspired by my personal fantasies lately. sighhh i love my man :3 stay hot!!! 🎀

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ 1.1k words, 6.3k characters

yuuji itadori 🌸

BRUHH I LOVE HIM SM HE'S SO HUSBAND MATERIAL

the first out of the bunch to tie the knot

a high school sweetheart kinda vibe like y'all def got married straight out of graduating jujutsu tech

small and intimate wedding, just friends and family in attendance

never shuts up about you when you guys are apart.

"y'know [name]- my wife, me and my wife-, isn't my wife just the coolest?"

megumi and nobara are SICK OF HIM

absolutely REFUSES to go on missions without you cause bby just wants to protect you

when you guys finish missions he always takes you out to eat in tokyo, it's like a lil tradition you guys do 🥲💕

as for dates it's always super spontaneous and he makes sure you never do the same thing twice

but he likes to stay home too!! movie dates at home are his favorite, but he won't tell you since he knows you like going out

HE ALSO PAYS FOR UR STUFF AT THE BEAUTY SUPPLY UGHHH

just follows you around as you fill up the basket and is ready to pay at the register

he's just so happy he's yours.

megumi fushiguro 🌸

not THE last! but one of the last to get married

BUT HE LOVES U SO FREAKING MUCH

it took him a couple years to pop the question, not because he wasn't sure about your relationship, but because he wanted to make sure he was ready before making such a big commitment

no wedding, y'all eloped and went to the courthouse but you had a little ceremony after :3

isn't super vocal about his affections like yuuji, but he does small things

you're his homescreen and his lockscreen is a picture of you two at the courthouse when you guys got married 🩷

he trust your abilities but does secretly fret when you go on missions alone

as for dates he's def a homebody...

he considers any one on one time with you a date...not in a lame way tho!

he just finds the two of you in your home alone to be intimate and comfortable

speaking of home alone...you guys have one kiddo since you guys were a little older when you tied the knot!!

a cute little girl who is y'alls pride and joy. when you told megumi you were pregnant tho he was terrified.

he just didn't want to turn out like his father

but he loves you and your little girl dearly 🩷.

satoru gojo 🌸

THE BLUE EYED PRINCE IS UR HUSBAND??? girl whats ur secret??

anyways, small wedding (he didn't want the elders all up in ur buisness) happy home, and wayyy too many kids

nobody expected you both to have so many kids but you have such a beautiful body!! how could he keep his hands off you?

and besides look at him and tell me he doesn't have a breeding kink...

due to you both being the strongest sorcerers and the kids, your schedules got a bit hectic but he always makes sure you're taken care of

multiple calls day and night, he loves to hear your voice...or moans. (he's hi-key a freak)

RESTURAUNT DATES

we know he loves sweets but you guys always go to nice restaurants, cause he believes you deserves the finest things in life

and he loves his kid so dearly

he's giving me 2 girls, 1 boy energy

from the tea parties, makeovers and late video game nights, he endures it all because of how much he adores them.

he adores you even more tho <3.

suguru geto 🌸

the. perfect. husband.

anything you want? you got it.

hair? done. nails? how much is your set?

definitely had the biggest wedding out of everyone (and the biggest ring)

AND A HUGE HONEYMOON like y'all were gone at least 2 weeks

everyone's fav couple, like nobody ever gets sick of y'all

he absolutely lovesss pda can can't keep his hands to him self. always has a hand on your lower back, arm around your shoulders, and he's just super in tune to you as a whole

wants kids bad, LIKE BAD

and y'all got busy on that honeymoon so you def had one pretty soon after the wedding

when you were pregnant, he spoiled you rotten and he made it his #1 priority to make sure you hadn't a worry in the world

you have 2 beautiful girls and suguru loves them more than life

he tries his best to keep them away from sorcerer life for as long as possible because he knows what it's like to be ostracized because of that life

has no favorites, but if he did it would be you.

kento nanami 🌸

sighhh my old man :)))

last to marry, but the ceremony was beautiful!

intimate but like i said, vv nice

lovesss to spoil you!! and plus we all know he makes hella bank bc he needs someone to spend it on

shopping dates!! mostly consist of him following you around and you just picking out what you like

if you even look at smth he's already at the register

prefers staying at home dates though, like reading together, cooking together, and movie dates!!

minimizes pda in public- perhaps holds your hand maybe

but in private he is so clingyyyy like you have to tear him off you lip to lip, chest to chest, hip to hip, you name it

you practically hung the stars, you could do no wrong in his eyes

is 50/50 on kids???

he's not going to actively ask you to start a family but he also is totally on board if you want to

we all know this man is under a lot of stress so his favorite way to spend time with you is coming home after a long day and cuddling with you 🩷

he's utterly obsessed with you (he's just good at hiding it)

takuma ino 🌸

THIS IS LITERALLY MY HUSBAND GUYS- HEAR ME OUT

high school sweethearts but y'all broke up right before graduation

you guys adored eachother but he was scared of losing you once you guys became sorcerers ಥ_ಥ

but fear not! you guys got back together a year- 2 years later bc he's in love with u

he wanted to propose as soon as you got back together but he has more common sense than that

when he does though it's so cutieee

def private and small, just like the wedding. only your closest friends and family, because he wants everything to be perfect

loves fun dates like laser-tag, go-carts, ect. bc he is just a big little kid

if you do missions together, he is literally that scene from hotel transylvania: "that's my girlfriend!" "your wife, ino..." "my wife? even better!"

i'm not even gonna sugarcoat it y'all get pregnant immediately after

ino is def terrified. you guys are both young and you've barely been married for 3 months

but he pulls it together obv and y'all have a cutie little son <3

just like yuuji, he gushes about his little family to nanami constantly (kento acts like he hates it but he finds it endearing)

he reads to your son for bedtime every night WITHOUT FAIL

he always thinks about how he wouldn't have things any other way.

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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ i wrote this in like 2 hours and i have a chem quiz tommorow i hope u guys like it 😿😿(pls love me) BUT I GET TO SEE MY MAN TOMMORROW AHHHH. sorry i'm not gonna shut up about himmm. ok bye stay hot ily guys sm!!!!

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐲 ♡

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𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚!

𝙘𝙤𝙥𝙮𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙡0𝙫3𝙝𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙖143 2024

[moonstruckme]

hi mae !! im currently in love with eddie, so i was wondering if you could write an eddie x fem!reader drabble, where they're in a long distance relationship and are finally getting to see each other in person again after a while of being apart? if isnt something youre interested in, i understand :))

Hi gorgeous, thank you for requesting!!

cw: mention of weed (Eddie deals but they're not smoking)

Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 708 words

Eddie likes to think of himself as erring on the wild side, but you know he sticks to his routines the same as a crotchety old man. And even though he’s graduated from high school, he still deals to a few of the kids he knew when he was there. You’re lucky; you step into the woods behind the school right as the buyer is leaving, a scraggly kid whose head bobs as he walks and who looks at you like you might go tattle to his parents. You’re too excited to take offense. 

Eddie’s still sitting at his picnic table, one leg hiked up on the bench like he’s thinking of climbing up, closing the clasps of the tin lunchbox he keeps his stash in. He doesn’t startle as you come up behind him, just turns with a half interested look in his eyes. 

A laugh bubbles out of you when they widen comically. 

“Hey,” you say, picking up your pace to cross the distance to him. 

“Holy fuck.” Eddie nearly trips getting out of his seat. He leaves the lunchbox behind. “Jesus, what the fuck?” 

“Glad to see you too,” you laugh, putting your arms around him. 

And you know from experience that Eddie’s a fantastic hugger, but this one is a bit of a scramble. He’s rushed, greedy, hands starting at your sides and then wriggling their way across your back until he’s got you where he wants you. Pulled tight against him with his arms banded across the high and low points of your back, face pressed into your shoulder, your feet still touching the ground but just barely. The whole production makes your chest hurt, a gratifying ache.

“What are you doing here?” It sounds almost like an accusation, muffled affectionately into the material of your shirt. 

You can’t stop giggling. Eddie’s hair tickles your nose. “Crazy thing,” you reply, “they actually let us have summers off.” 

Eddie’s funny in that he almost never asks the right questions. The last time you’d seen him had been during winter break, and when you’d gone back to school and been calling every night, he only asked about your life there. Always what you were doing and how much fun you were having, infinitely sweet in his support of your college experience even if he couldn’t share in it, and in his curiosity he’d somehow forgotten to wonder when you might be coming home again. 

“Okay, smartass.” He gives you a happy little squeeze. “How long do I get you for?” 

“Until August.” 

Eddie makes a delighted moaning sound that sets your giggles off all over again. 

“Yes.” His tone evokes the feeling of a fist-pump without the follow-through of the actual motion, but his hands slip from around you. He grabs your face and kisses you hard. “Fuck yeah!” 

You’re grinning massively as you meet him kiss for kiss, arms crawling up around his shoulders. 

“Best. Surprise. Ever.” He holds you still for a series of quick pecks, deviating from your lips to kiss your cheek, your nose. “Shit, is it, like, super unromantic if I start taking your clothes off?” 

“Kinda,” you say, though you don’t deny him when one of his hands slips down to paw at your ass. “We’re maybe fifty feet from a high school right now.” 

“Mhm, mhm, but hear me out.” Eddie’s words are interspersed with little suctioning sounds, his lips planting themselves eagerly upon any bit of you they can find. “Back when we went here, that would have been the hottest thing, you know? We can even go under the bleachers if you want.” 

You don’t open your eyes, but they’re rolling. “My ovaries are quaking.” 

Eddie groans low in his throat and squeezes your ass teasingly. “So stubborn.” 

“We can go back to your place,” you offer. 

“No, no.” He sighs, heavy and dramatic. “We’d have to drive, and I’m not ready to be across a console from you yet.” Eddie backs you up until your backside hits the picnic table, helping you up and positioning himself between your legs. His arms wrap around you again, half makeout and half hug. “Let’s stay here for a while. Wouldn’t be able to focus on the road anyway.” 

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for pretending I cheated on my partner when our common friend asked why we fought?

It will sound fake and fictional, but please bear with me because I'm getting crazy over it. And also sorry for any english mistake, we're not from an english speaking country.

To give some context: I am a man. There was this person, B(m), which whom I kind of grew up with. We went through the same schools from our 6 years old to 17 but we never were really friends. Then, around our 13, I got into a clique that fed into all my bad habits and I started to actively bully B because he seemed like an easy target at the time. I enjoyed it and was encouraged to do so (because I was such an asshole and I'm not even cringing thinking about it, it's worse. I regret it so much and I was a stupid and bad teenager). It was so bad that after years of enduring it, B changed school before we graduated and I went on with my life.

It' was's been about 15 years ago that I graduated.

In the meantime, I dealt with some problems that I had with my family and I went through intensive therapy which changed me for the better, and I came to terms with my sexuality as well.

Flashforward to 2019/2020, I meet with someone online through some games and it goes very well. Thanks to the Covid and the lockdowns, we play even more and get closer. At some point, I talk about an event happening close to my city, and he tells me that he knows about it as well and that we're living close to each other. Because we enjoyed our time online (ngl, we had started flirting although I didn't know how sincere it was) we decided to meet at that event.

And there, I find out that my online friend is B. It's extremely awkward but only for me because he cannot recognize me for three reasons: 1. I changed physically with my puberty finally finishing the job after my 18 birthday, and I found some love into dying my hair. 2. I changed in terms of personality thanks to the therapy I went through. 3. My legal name was changed when I said goodbye to this fucking family of mine and left without turning back (but I was getting sick just saying my last name).

I, obviously, didn't tell him anything about who I really was because I just wanted to enjoy that evening with a friend, and we didn't see each other since he left high school because of me. My plan was just to slowly distance myself from him after that evening but it failed because we had a lot of fun and we actually really hit off and I was dying constantly at the idea that he could find out.

We've been in a relationship sicne the beginning of 2021 and I was decided to just never tell him (horrifying idea I know, anyone with a braincell would have told me that it was bound to be found).

A month ago, I met with an old friend from high school (so yeah, he was in the bullying gang but more of a followers, so we stayed in friendly terms when we both agreed that it was bad) and as he recognized B, he decided to excuse himself and hoped that B would forgive him like he "forgave" me (I never got to tell that friend to shut up about that) so yeah, B found out that I was his main bully who had lied to him for almost 4 years now.

We had quite a big talk about it. How bad my bullying ended up for B; why I lied like that and never admitted it. And even if it went alright, B told me that he needed a break to think about things and it's going to be one month that I'm crashing at a common friend of us. At first, I just said that B and I got into a fight and it was good enough, but as it's been already a month, the friend asked more about it. Not wanting to bring up B's trauma to someone else (especially after our conversation), I just told the first lie that came to me and pretended that I cheated on B and he found out.

Now that common friend is calling me an asshole and keeps reminding me how much they are disappointed in me to have done something so horrifying to B. I keep wondering if I did well to lie like that, or if I should have found another way out.