#I can't help but think I am forgetting something but oh well

[scar-lie]

Hellooo~ may I know if you will make a part 2 for your story 'Their First Love'?

Their First Love Pt. 2 [Natasha]

Summary : The talk Natasha has been looking for, to apologize and to finally talk to you

Pairing : Natasha Romanoff x Fem ! Reader

Warningv: Crying

Word Count : 2,876

{THEIR FIRST LOVE PT. 1}

No one has permission to repost my work anywhere, if you see it please let me know

It's been weeks since you two broke up—well, not actually since you two aren't a couple—let's just say “since she busted you,” and it still bothers you.

Did you accept her decision? Yes, and you respect it, but did you move on or stop wondering about things? No, definitely not. The thoughts and questions keep you awake every night and mostly distract you from your work.

You kept asking yourself why she chose him. Am I not enough? Or am I doing too much that drives her away? Is there something wrong with me? Or maybe I did something wrong?

The questions keep coming, but there's only one that's imprinted in your head, and it never leaves your mind since you realize it. It's her hair.

You once asked her, "Why do you keep your hair red? You're a spy; you should be undercover, not seen.” At that time, all she said to me was, “Because I wanted my loved ones to always locate me and remember me in the event that they did forget me or split up with me, as winter always follows autumn.

That's when you realize that you're not hers; Bucky is and will always be the winter that always follows Autumn, and you feel such a fool believing that you could replace or at least be enough to be at Bucky's level in her heart.

But at least you try and come close, or at least you thought, but the thing is, what matters is what makes her happy, and she is happy with him; that is what matters to you, right?

“Hey, hey, earth, to Y/N, are you there? ”You snap out of your thoughts when Jess taps your right check, so you look at her with a confused look.

“What? ....sorry what were you saying? ”You asked, gathering yourself and coughing to cover your embarrassment in front of Jess.

“I said, get back to her.” You frown at her, and she giggles, laying her upper body on the couch back while you're in your swivel chair and big table in your office.

“I don't get it,” you mumble, enough for her to hear, and she shakes her head and rolls her eyes with an amusing smile, then puts her iced coffee down.

“Oh my god, Y/N, you're so easy to read, or at least on my side... You're thinking, and I know it involves ‘Natasha’ so just pick up your phone, dial her number and call her, or text her,” Jess said, throwing you your phone. She's been playing some games. You thankfully catch it because if you didn't, hell, you're going to kill Jess if that happens.

“No, she chose him, Jess, not me, so I’m not going to call or text her like a puppy hot on her tail.” You put your phone in your pocket, standing up, seeing it's already 10 and the wedding will start in an hour, and you can't be late.

“Now shut up, and we need to go because we will be late,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes at you, but reciprocates and follows down the garage, getting in your own car, and so does she, and starts the 40-minute drive to the venue.

On the other side, Natasha has been sulking in her bed for weeks now; she has no energy to do anything, and the only thing that keeps her away from bed is going to the bathroom, bar, or club. Other than that, she's locked up in her room; even Bucky can't even enter.

Since Natasha saw you that day, she can't help but stalk you. When you go to a cafe with her, when you go shopping with her, when you stroll with her, everywhere you go, she's there, getting jealous and feeling regret seeing you with her, and she wishes it was her who's by your side at those moments and not her until she saw you with her at the jewelry shop and decided to approach you or just eavesdrop.

But once she came close, she stopped dead in her tracks. Hearing those words coming out of your mouth, “This is perfect for a wedding band," she quickly turned around and left the mall. You're buying a wedding band with her; were you getting married with her that fast? She questions herself when she locks herself in her room, crying. 

And Bucky heard her crying, and since then, he's been worrying about Nat. As much as he wants to help her and be by her side, he knows forcing her to do something or just go against her will be no better for the both of them, so he constantly knocks on her door, asking if she's okay, even asking F.R.I.D.A.Y. about her, leaving food and a note in front of her door.

But today, he had enough, and he knows the only person who can help Natasha, so he's on his way to have a little talk with you.

And when he gets the information that you're on your way to the wedding, he quickly flies off, overspeeding, and goes to a different route to catch up with you, and when he does, he quickly drifts to block your car with his

But you almost hit him if you didn't hit the break quickly. You scoff and get out of the car when you see Bucky getting out of his car.

“Long time, no see, Mr. Barnes,” you sass at him, folding your arm in front of you and letting him approach you.

“You need to come with me,” he's in his stoic expression, and he proceeds to grab your arm, but you back away and swat his hand, and that's when Jess got to you, worried in her eyes.

“Oh my god, hey, watch where you're going; you can't just stop people like that,” Jess shouts at him, but you stop her with your hand when she's going to attack him.

“Get in your car and go to the venue; I’ll be there in a few.” She wanted to argue, but you glared at her, so she nodded.

“Be careful.” With that, she drives off, leaving you and Bucky alone on the side of the road, and thankfully, there's not much of a car passing by.

“What do you need, Barnes? ”You stand tall, seeing him searching for the right word.

“I—you need to come with me; I wanted to show you something,” he said calmly, but you raised your one eyebrow at him.

“And why would I need to come with you? I barely know you; I don't know your intention; you could kill me or something if I come with you.” Bucky sighs, closing his eyes, then looks back at you, and you see the desperation in his eyes.

“If you're that desperate for me to come with you, why not tell me the reason? Cause I have somewhere to be.” Bucky is annoyed, yes, but he stays calm for Natasha's sake.

“It's Nat; she needs you. I know it sounds crazy, but you're the one she wants, the one she loved and still loves. She needs you, Y/N.” You stay motionless and emotionless; you just scoff at him and roll your eyes at him.

“That's funny, Barnes; she doesn't need me; she has you; you're the one she loves, not me; she chose you. Remember? ”You unfold your arms and take a step towards him, and you give him a sarcastic smile.

“You won Barnes; she's all yours, so whatever shit what's happening to the both of you, I don't care, so don't drag me into your shits,” you said, and you turned around to your car so you could arrive at the wedding just in time, but before you could reach your car handle, he took your arm and turned you around.

“She really needs you, ok... Yes, maybe I’m the one she chose before, but that doesn't mean I still have her heart.” Bucky sighs, not wanting to be the one saying this to you, but he guesses he doesn't have any choice.

“Natasha suffers enough; she gets confused when it comes to these feelings, making her go back and choose the things she’s familiar with, meaning getting back to me. She longs for the short times she has before, where our love gets ripped away by the organization we're in, making her choose the wrong decision.” It hurts him to admit that the love of his life doesn't love her anymore, but he knows that seeing her happy in your arms is better than seeing her forcing herself to be happy with him.

“She loves you so much, Y/N. She may have confused her emotions, but her love for you is already carved in her heart.” Then suddenly his phone vibrated, and seeing that it's an emergency mission, he smiled at you and reached for his back pocket.

“She’s you're Y/N; she always had been.” Then he took your hand and put the key in it.

"It's her key…..she really needs you.” He gives you a small, sad smile, then turns around and gets in his car, then drives off.

“You just roll your eyes and get in your car, hooking the key he gave you in the rearview mirror, and drive off.

Natasha sighs and sits up on the bed, realizing that sulking, being lazy, and sleeping with strangers will get her nowhere, so she stands up and takes a shower, leaving the man still sleeping on her bed. He was supposed to leave hours ago, but Natasha doesn't know what happened to her when she let him sleep here on her bed. All she knows is that his hold feels like your arms, or maybe she just thought about it.

Showers were taken longer than they usually are, but she did have a decent shower and change into fresh, comfy clothes, a loose shirt, and sweatpants, putting on a little makeup so her face wasn't as pale as it looked, and that's when she heard a knock on her door, so she groans and goes out of the bathroom, seeing the man in her bed is already awake.

“Go get dressed and get outta here,” she said, emotionless, and another knock again.

“I’m ok, Bucky, you don't have.” She stopped when the person knocked, got in, and looked around until her eyes landed on Natasha and the man who's getting dressed.

And Natasha is shocked to see the one person she least expects to knock on her door and come in, but when she pinches her arm and it hurts, she knows it's real. It's you, standing in your white, above-the-knee-fitted formal dress.

Her heart fluttered, and the butterflies were dancing around her stomach. Her joy was on top of the mountain. She saw you again, and you're the one who came to her.

"Guess, I came here for nothing. Sorry for interrupting. Have a good day.” With that, you quickly shut the door shut, scoffing at yourself, thinking you shouldn't have listened to Bucky. 

On the other hand, Natasha was confused, but when she realized what was happening, she quickly looked at the man who's putting his pants on and looked at herself in the mirror, a hickey on her neck and wet hair.

“Shit shit shit,” she cursed and quickly ran behind you to explain.

"Y/N, wait, please, let me explain.” She then took your arm, stopping you and turning you around.

“Explain to me that you're doing fine and fucking other people because you and Bucky didn't work out? Don't worry, I get it. I shouldn't have listened to your ex. Now I have wasted my time. I should probably go so you two can continue and I can catch up to the wedding. Have a good day, okay? ”Natasha was confused, and she didn't catch up with what you said, and whatever was on her mind was only Bucky, listen, continue, and Wedding, ‘Were you marrying her today? ’

“Wait what? No, no, no, wait, hold on,” she said, then again stopped you and blocked your way to the elevator.

"First, what Bucky told you; second, that man meant nothing, I swear; and third, the wedding? At what wedding were you getting married? Now? With her? ”You roll your eyes at her, then the man gets out of her room and walks past you two, and he kisses her on the head, making Natasha cringe and try to pat off the kiss he gave her.

“Last night was amazing; maybe we could go out sometimes.” This makes Natasha feel disgusted, and of course you heard it, so you roll your eyes and go around Natasha.

“Get a room, for god sake,” you say, then stand tall, waiting for the elevator after you press down.

“You're just jealous,” he spat back, and Natasha slapped him hard.

“Trust me, I’m not, and please make sure your dick is properly placed in those pants, and please wear underwear for god sake.” Then Natasha pushed him to the stairs, just to get him out of here.

“Leave now or else,” she said with gritted teeth, motioning her thumb from her left neck to her right, and he gulped, knowing she's capable of killing him without hesitation, and that's when the elevator door opened with a ding.

"Well, nice seeing you.” You enter the elevator, and Natasha quickly stops the elevator door and gets in. She was supposed to drag you out so you two could properly talk, but the door closed before she could walk out with you.

“Ok, ok,” Natasha sighs, and she turns around to look at you, where she finds you looking down on your phone, texting someone.

"Hey,” she tried to get your attention, but you didn't budge, so she took your phone and turned it off.

“What! ”You sigh with annoyance, looking up at her.

“Can you listen to me, please? ”Natasha begs, and you pinch the bridge of your nose and press the open door button, but Natasha unpresses it and stops the elevator, putting it into emergency

“You listen whether you like it or not.” You then press your back against the wall. Not much of a choice, you just stayed silent, your hand inside your pocket. 

“Thank you,” Natasha then sighs, getting nervous, and this is not what she imagines getting nervous for the first time.

“Ok, first, I’ll tell the truth. Yes, we had sex last night, and yes, he slept the night in my room, and yes, I’ve slept with a couple strangers the past few days or weeks, but I swear it means nothing.” You then cross your arm in front and look at her in the eyes; that made her feel so small.

“It's a one-night stand, nothing else, and for Bucky, well, he broke up with me. Why? Well, he said that my heart doesn't belong to him anymore; it belongs to someone; that someone's you, and he's right.” Natasha wants to take your hand, but it's hidden, so she rests her right hand on your arm.

“When he left, that's when I realized that I want you, that I love you, that when I’m looking for the future, you're there, you're always on my plan, on my dreams in every single one of them, and I also realized that I was being unfair to you when I just dropped you out and to Bucky when I’m still clinging to my past, where I’m too familiar and afraid to enter something new again, something I’m not familiar with, something I’m not good at, and I’m sorry for that.” tears running down her cheeks while she bites her bottom lips to suppress her subs, then she kneels before you, clinging to your right leg.

“Please forgive me. I-I’m so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you.” Natasha can't help but sob and cry on your thigh.

“Please believe me, I tried to contact you, or... or co-come see you... I tried.” Natasha keeps repeating the same word over and over again.

“Get up,” but Natasha didn't; her knees were weak.

"Romanoff, get the fuck up; you're making yourself look foolish.” You nudge her gently, but she shakes her head.

“Forgive me, please forgive me, please come back.” You sigh and palm your forehead, careful not to ruin your makeup.

“I don't know, Ok, I am moving forward, so, I don't know it, Romanoff, so get up and fix yourself; I need to go and catch up on a wedding.” Then you simply get away from her and pull off the emergency button and help Natasha on her feet, then wipe her tear with your handkerchief, making Natasha lean on your touch.

“I’ll contact you,” you whisper, and then the door opens, so you exit the elevator, go out to take your car, and drive to the venue.

As much as you want to be hard and cold to Natasha, there's always part of you that makes you weaker around her; she always makes your guard down and makes you vulnerable; you feel safe around her, the feeling you've been craving since you were little, and it took every willpower you have to be tough and cold-hearted towards her.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanova #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natalia alianovna romanova #marvel black widow #black widow 2021 #black widow #natalia romanova #natasha x y/n #natasha alianovna romanova #natasha marvel #natasha #natasha romanov #mcu marvel avengers #marvel mcu #mcu

[thefoolishone666]

Kickin Chicken once said

@hiwelcometothemonstersancturary gave me the go to do this, which is mistake one for them, so here is my go at giving them what they encouraged while I pray it works well. And if not...well I at least tried.

* (Refering to Bobby) She is called Captain Heartbeat cause she will squeeze love out of your heart...and blood, but mostly love.

* (After speaking pr-bt for a 2 minutes) You ever forget your first language?

* Mods, take their swimming privileges away and put them in the pool.

* I would go evil, but I am going to follow dad's steps of being good...plus I saw they went shoe shopping so...

* What do you mean I can't seduce myself!?

* (Loud thud off Camera) PERCEPÇÃO DE PROFUNDIDADE!

* Our ship has a pool, an omelet bar, tons of rooms for you to sleep in, one would say that is a cruise, to which I say, fair, but have you seen the plank, cause I am about to get you real familiar with it.

* I heard some demons were touched starved. I got more than enough buckshot to help with that.

* Bubba, reading chat: "Kickin isn't the sharpest knife in the group," Well that is rude...

Kickin: I did eat packing peanuts when I was younger to be fair.

Everyone in room:

Kickin:...Wait is this new information for you?

Everyone: YES!?

* Wonder how many people come on to see me stream thinking "Oh hey, the voice actor for Kickin does streaming," or "Hey is this the official channel for the Smiling Critters show?" And they just come in on me saying something like, "I HAVE BUILT A TO SCALE JOLLY ROGER WITH POPSICLE STICKS!"

* Hey Theo, it's you! (Gets empty bottle thrown at head) Ow.

* White is the color of evil, cause nothing exists in it! Delight taught me that!

* I would cry, but I am too dehydrated to do such a thing. (Goes to drink some water, pauses, puts water bottle back down)

* It is always funny to see people react to my complete indifference to horrible stuff.

* I needed to find a way to get a gambling addiction, so I thought space could have the answer.

* (Seeing Bubba being affected by the blue screen) Bubba, I know you always wanted to become the one thing I love, but this is ridiculous!

* I am just saying revenge is amazing, ok? Yeah, you gain a tremendous amount of regret sometimes, but it is amazing.

* Cool motive bro, still murder!

* (In response to Angel giving them food) It hasn't been that long since I started streaming, it has only been...5 hours...

* This is my favorite bird. (Holds up middle finger before pointing to self) It is the chicken.

* (Wearing VR) The future is today!...I might need it adjusted though.

* Does dying take away time away from my vacation days?

* IT IS ALL A CONSPIRACY TO END ME! IF NO ONE EVER HEARS FROM ME AGAIN, IT IS CAUSE THEY KILLED ME, CHOPPED ME UP, AND FED ME TO THE WOLVES DANG IT!

* Fursuits are getting so good you can now subject yourself to your own form of trauma to fuse into it. Brought to you by Playtime.

* I have seen the internet and honestly, have seen worse. Which is saying alot.

* (Looks at Candy Cat in his lap before looking at camera)...Help. me.

* Theo: You finally did it! Did it help when you imagined it was me you were fighting?

Kickin: Not at all...worked when it was Dogday though.

Dogday: WHAT DID I DO?

Kickin: Hell if I know. As long as it works though.

* (Playing I Expect You to Die, dies trying to do an action pose)...(Starts singing the James Bond theme notes)

* (Reacting to "Unnecessary Feelings") Bubba, I was promised a crime drama, not a reminder that no one in this house knows how to feeling well, including us!

* I would boop you, but I don't want a pirate hook this early in my character development.

* William then preceded to commit several hours of joy, on at least an entire classroom of kids to learn why death does.

* You can have one hit Hoppy...Ah não, ela tem uma cadeira!

* Don't worry, I won't hurt you, I am just going to turn into a nuke to fall on you.

* (Stares at camera while winding music box)

* Chica, you wouldn't hurt your brother, would you? Or would you want me to be you and Foxy's kid, whichever makes you more merciful on me.

* I am here to break the stereotype that parrots can only be pirates and no other reasons at all.

* (Refering to how much money he has in game) $60!? I can finally afford 1 AAA video game! (Pulls up Balan Wonderworld steam page) I am going to buy this one guys!

* Kickin, coming into Crafty's stream: You mind if I borrow a picture.

Crafty: Uh sure...Why?

Kickin, taking one of the monsters: A reminder.

Crafty: A reminder of what?

Kickin: Of who in this family is an actual threat. (Leaves without elaboration)

* Don't make fun of me, I will cry will I beat you up.

* We don't even own a game cube, I just want to find a copy of Skies of Arcadia to display.

* When you get into a certain mindset for so long, it is so jarring to have to go into a different line of think, like you just suddenly ask, "Wait I don't have to ration this sandwich for the entire year?"

* WHY DID I LET THEO TALK ME INTO PLAYING THIS!?

* I am still surprised I recovered so well from all of that.

* What would the others do without me? Minus not having a heart attack everyday.

* I SURVIVED THAT FACTORY FOR OVER 10 YEARS, I WILL NOT LET A SLIDING PUZZLE DEFEAT ME!

* Have good night everyone! I don't remember how I end these...I will make you walk the plank! No, that is not it...

#is it clear I used Google translate cause I don't know the language? #i am very sorry for that #poppy playtime #smiling critters #au #smiling critters arg #smiling critters poppy playtime #kickinchicken #poppy worldwide

[smalltownfae]

I am not including classics in this one because there is already a poll for it. These polls are my biased opinions about books I have read (am reading in the case of one of them, but it is that good so far).

#mlm books #tsoa #captive prince #nightrunner series #swordspoint #silver in the wood #the house in the cerulean sea #boyfriend material #cemetery boys #the gentleman's guide to vice and virtue #as meat loves salt #my polls #I thought I had read more mlm books than I actually have... #I can't help but think I am forgetting something but oh well #wlw books next

[javiscigarette]

Teacher's Pet

Joel Miller x virgin f!reader

Summary: 25 years old, anxiety-ridden, and still a virgin, you ask your friend Joel for advice on your upcoming date. But you're more of a...hands-on learner. And he's more than happy to help. 

Warnings: PWP, unbalanced power dynamics, virgin!reader, neighbor/bff/more experienced! Joel, age gap, first kiss, virginity loss, fingering, oral (f receiving), frequent check-ins, soo much banter and Joel is a menace also so soft and sweet :')....(ends on a cliffhanger but there will be a part two I swear).

w/c: 7.7k idk what happened

a/n: I am resurfacing for your monthly reminder that I do in fact still write!! Inspiration for this came out of literally nowhere but I took it and RAN with it and I think I like it?? As always, thank you to my baby love @undrthelights for helping me with this and always listening to my rambling and for being my biggest enabler Ilysm

Part Two

my masterlist

"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever." Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck pound in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed. "A what?" "Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head.  "No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 

"Seriously, Joel. Fuck off" you snap but with no bite or heat behind it. You bring the sweating bottle of beer to your lips and finish the rest of the now lukewarm liquid off in one gulp. 

"What? I just find it hard to believe that you've never even had a kiss. Didn't you go to high school? Didn't you ever get invited to a party? Didn't you go to college? College kids do the do like all the time” 

"Clearly not all the time" you mutter, a tad bitterly.

Joel raises his hands defensively and takes a sip of his own beer. "Just seems crazy is all. There's gotta be some chick or dude out there willing to take pity on you and pop your cherry."

You audibly gag at his choice of words. "I don't need a pity fuck, thanks." You stand from the couch and head over to the fridge. The bottles of cold alcohol inside are calling your name and you want something that will help soothe your nerves. You're not a big drinker, but when Joel is prying into your love life like he is now, you wish you were.

"Okay,” he starts from the living room. “Maybe I worded that wrong. What I meant to say was, there's gotta be someone out there who would be more than willing to show you a good time."

You groan and let your forehead fall against the fridge door. "That's the whole point! I came here to get advice for my date, someone who might actually be interested in me, and all you've done is make fun of me for not having fucked anyone yet. So thanks, Joel. You're a real pal."

You push away from the fridge and slam the door shut, a second beer in hand.

"Alright, alright, calm down." He says, hands in the air as if you were holding him at gunpoint as you head back to the couch. "Look, if this guy really likes you then he's not gonna care. Probably won't even be able to tell if you are or aren't."

"You think so?" You ask hopefully.

"Well, I mean, unless you're like... super bad."

Your heart drops into your stomach and you glare at him, "Joel."

"Oh come on, I'm kidding. You're not gonna be bad, okay? Just, go into it with an open mind and just relax. If he tries something you're not comfortable with or makes you feel weird, tell him. And if he gets pussy, dump his ass."

"That simple, huh?" You scoff.

"Well, yeah. You're the one who made it complicated by thinking it was a big deal."

"It is a big deal, Joel! I know nothing!

"Nothing? You ain’t ever watched porn? Jesus, I had no idea you were such a prude."

You can't stop yourself from rolling your eyes and slapping the back of your hand against his arm. He yelps and laughs, rubbing his arm.

"I've watched porn before" you retort. 

"What kind?" he asks with a wiggle of his brows.

"None of your fucking business" you respond, feeling your face heat up.

Joel's lips quirk into a shit-eating grin and you're quick to smack him again.

"Okay okay, sorry!" he says through his laughter. "So what exactly are you afraid of?"

You're not really sure how to answer. It's a combination of so many things, most of which are irrational fears and insecurities. Sure you've seen it all done before, but you're well aware that none of it is realistic. At least, not completely. And just the fact that you're freshly 25 years old without a single notch in your bedpost makes you dizzy with anxiety. It's not like you're saving yourself or anything, it's just that hook up culture has never agreed with you and there's never been an opportunity that made you feel like it was the right one. That is until now, with your cute coworker who you thought was miles out of your league asking you out on a third date. And now, the prospect of being in bed with him is looming over you like a dark cloud and the last thing you want to do is mess it up.

"I guess, I'm just afraid that he's gonna be disappointed, or I'm gonna weird him out, or I'm gonna do something wrong and embarrass myself.” Joel nods along and listens. "And if it is bad then we still have to work with each other and then what if it's awkward and everyone knows about it and then he hates me and--"

"Okay, whoa slow down there, buddy" Joel says, putting a hand on your shoulder. "One, you're overthinking this. You're literally thinking like, five steps ahead of what's actually going on. It's a date. And even if it does end up in the bedroom, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. No one's forcing you, okay? He can't. No one can."

"I know, but I want to," you reply quietly.

"Alright. Then do."

"I don't know howwww!! " you whine, flopping backwards into the couch.

Joel groans and sits up a little straighter, scrubbing a hand down his face. 

"Well, there's no magic trick, I don't have a secret sex manual I'm holding out on ya."

You sigh, shoulders sagging as you look over at him. The idea comes out of nowhere, well, not exactly from nowhere, but it pops in your head so fast that you then have to bite your tongue before the words bubbling up from your throat come tumbling out. 

It's not a bad idea, not necessarily. 

You've been good friends with Joel ever since you moved in next door last year. An unlikely pairing, a 40 year old contractor and an almost 25 year old office worker. But after offering him a six pack as part of introducing yourself to the neighbors, you'd gotten along famously. He fixes things around your house and you send him home with hot dinners and warm, gooey cookies.

 It's an easy friendship, open and honest and supportive, and Joel has never given you reason not to trust him. He's a good guy, if not a little brash, but you know deep down he means well. And it doesn't hurt that he's objectively attractive, with his tall and sturdy frame, strong, calloused hands, dark messy curls....It's not a bad idea.

It's an absolutely insane idea. 

You continue to stare at him, clenching your teeth together to hold back the question sitting on the tip of your tongue.

"What?" he says, looking back at you.

"Nothing" you mutter, eyes flicking away.

"You've got that face you make when you're about to say something really stupid, so just get it out."

You glare at him again, not enjoying the way he can read you so well.

"I wasn't gonna say anything."

"Well now you're lying."

"I'm not."

"You're doing it again!"

"Doing what?!"

"That face!"

"I'm not making a face!"

"Yes you are! Just spit it out!"

You groan and hide your face in your hands. You blame it on the one beer even though you know you’re not anywhere close to being drunk because how else would you justify what you’re about to say? You wait a moment, thinking about the weight of it but your mouth opens before you can stop yourself. 

"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever."

Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck and hear it in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed.

"A what?"

"Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head. 

"No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 

His eyes are wide, and he looks incredulous. You can't blame him, because the more time that passes between your suggestion and now, the more ridiculous the idea seems.

"I’m sorry, that was…It was stupid. Pretend I didn't say anything. Let's just watch a movie." You move to grab the remote, but Joel's hand covers yours, stopping you.

"Is that what you want?"

You look at him, searching his expression for any sign of disgust or apprehension. But all you can see is the same Joel you've known for months, patient, warm, and understanding.

"I know. I know it's stupid. But I can't get this date out of my head, Joel. It's all I can think about and the more I do, the more worried I get and I just don't want to fuck it up. And I know we're friends and this is weird and gross, but I just thought that... maybe, I could have some practice, so to speak."

He doesn't say anything. Just keeps looking at you, the panic rising in your chest the longer the silence stretches. You start to fidget, wringing your hands together in your lap.

"I'm sorry, that was way out of line" you say, moving to stand up, your skin sweaty and hot with embarrassment and your feet ready to run out the door and never come back. 

But Joel catches your wrist, gently pulling you back down to sit next to him.

"Joel" you whine, not wanting him to humiliate you any further.

"It's okay, come here."

His voice is softer than before, and his eyes are kind. You let him pull you closer, the two of you sitting knee to knee. You can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes, not with your cheeks and the tips of your ears burning like they are, but Joel doesn't push. He simply moves his hand from your wrist, sliding it into yours. His palms are rough and warm, and the simple touch alone is comforting.

"You really wanna do this?” he asks softly. You can feel his eyes boring into you. “I mean, I'm not exactly a prize winning catch. And it's not like there's a shortage of willing men out there."

You shrug and chew the inside of your lip.

"Yeah, but you're my friend and I...I trust you."

There's another pause, and you wish that you could just disappear into the couch and erase this moment from your memory.

"How drunk are you?" he asks, glancing at the beer bottle on the coffee table.

"You saw me finish one bottle. And half of another. I’m barely tipsy."

"Not drunk?”

"Nope."

"You're gonna remember this tomorrow."

"Uh huh."

"And you still want to?"

You groan for the millionth time and squeeze his hand.

"Yes I want to! Look, if you don't want to then that's fine. It was just a dumb suggestion and we can just forget this ever happened."

He hums, considering your words. His hand slips out of yours, and you think that's it, you've scared him off and washed the friendship down the drain. That you'll have to hide from him from now on, that you'll have to pack your things up and move because the mortification would be too much, and that he'll hate you, and—

His two fingers sliding under chin surprise you, and he tilts your head up. He's looking down at you with that same even expression, eyes big, soft, and warm as he slides his hand over to cup your jaw in his palm. 

"If you want to stop at any point, just say so, okay? I won't be upset and we can go back to the way things were before. Got it?"

You nod, your throat suddenly too tight to speak. His thumb sweeps over your cheekbone, the tender touch is enough to make your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this is actually happening. That your first kiss is going to be with your 40 year old menace of a neighbor. That you’re going to, how did you put it, get a sex lesson from him. His gaze flicks down to your lips and back up to your eyes and you’re positive you’re no longer able to breathe. 

"Can I kiss you?" he asks softly. You nod. 

You're sure he can hear the thumping of your heart in his own ears as he leans down. His other hand comes to rest on your hip and when his lips touch yours, a soft, tentative pressure, you're not prepared for the electricity that shoots through you.

He's barely done anything and already you feel like you're floating. Your own hands reach out to clutch his shirt, keeping him close, afraid he'll pull away and leave you cold and wanting if you don't. But he stays put, pressing himself against you, his lips working gently against yours. You follow his lead, kissing him back while trying not to overthink it.

It's nothing like the kisses in the movies or the books, where fireworks explode behind your eyelids or where your foot pops up in the air. It's far more subdued, more quiet and subtle. But the warmth that pools low in your belly and the goosebumps that erupt on your skin when his tongue slides against the seam of your lips, light and quick, makes you absolutely melt. 

He pulls back before you can really react, and you're left with a dizzying rush of both blistering desire and excruciating anxiety. You want to pull him back in and never let him go. But your heart is beating so fast you can hardly breathe, your nerves are buzzing, and the urge to run and hide is nearly paralyzing. 

"Was it bad?" you ask tentatively, cheeks heated.

"No" he replies, giving your hip a squeeze as a smirk plays on his lips. "It was fucking awful. Worst kiss of my life"

"Shut up!" you hiss, pushing him away with a hand on his chest. He laughs, the sound easing some of the tension in your body. 

"I'm just teasing" he says, voice dropping lower. "C'mere, we can work on it."

His lips find yours again, and you try not to smile into the kiss but it's hard when you can feel the way his lips are quirked up as well. It doesn’t take much else to get you to relax and let yourself fall into the moment, into the gentle press of his mouth and the warm hands on your hip and your cheek. He swipes his tongue against your lips again, his fingers pressing lightly into the hinge of your jaw to tilt your head back and coax your lips apart.

You let him, sighing as his tongue glides across yours, hot and smooth and sweet. Your hands slide up his chest, finding purchase around his shoulders, and when you move forward, pushing yourself against him, he grunts softly but lets you. He kisses you until the both of you are gasping for air, and when he pulls back, his lips are wet and red and you're certain yours must be as well.

"Better?" you ask, a bit breathless.

"Getting there" he answers with, his breath warm where it fans across your cheek. 

"You're such a liar" you say with a goofy smile.

"Yeah, I know. Now try again, practice makes perfect.” 

You roll your eyes but lean back in nonetheless. It's a bit more heated this time, the feeling of his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip making you squirm. His hand rounds over your hip, palm smoothing to the small of your back to pull you closer, the heat of his body radiating through your clothes and warming your skin. Your hands move on their own accord, no thought behind the action as they slide up to his shoulders and then his neck, your fingers finding home in the curls at the base of his skull. When you give them a slight tug, you're rewarded with a muffled grunt from Joel. Emboldened, you pull back, lips swollen and tingling.

"You’re a good kisser,” you pant. "Is that something people usually say?"

"When it’s true" he says, grinning at you. "And since I know you're gonna ask, I'd say that was a C+, maybe a B-."

You scoff but blush furiously at the smile he flashes, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

"Well then, tell me what to do next. What do I need to know?"

Joel hums as he thinks for a moment. 

"What do you want to do?"

You stare at him for a second, blinking.

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you" you say, shaking your head a bit.

"Well, how far do you want to take this?"

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very shy. You can’t deny that when the idea popped in your head it was accompanied by the mental image of you naked, spread out on his bed, but the actual act of asking him, or better yet, actually doing it is... intimidating to say the least. Are you really about to let him go all the way, to see you bare and vulnerable, let him pop your cherry as he would disgustingly put it? All just to “prepare” for a date with a guy who might not even like you that way?

Yeah, probably.

"All the way" you answer. “I want to go all the way” 

He doesn’t pounce on you like you expected, doesn’t press his lips against yours in a frenzied kiss that you had half hoped for. Instead, he simply looks at you, his brown eyes boring into yours, searching.

"Are you sure? You can always say no and you're not gonna lose me as a friend if this isn’t what you actually want. I don’t want you thinking that."

You can't help the laugh that bubbles up and slips out, because of course Joel, your kind, thoughtful Joel, would say that. He's a good man. A great one, even.

"Yes, I'm sure. But if you don't, I get it, I can just leave and-"

Joel laughs, the sound traveling up from deep in his chest, the rumble vibrating against you.

"Sweetheart, I wouldn't be doin’ this if I didn't want to. Just makin’ sure this is what you really want."

"I want it.” 

He squeezes your hip and swipes a thumb over your cheekbone once again. 

“Alright then.” He nods, firm and resolute, and then looks around the room. “ We’re not doing it here, though. If you're getting the full Joel Miller experience, we're gonna do it right.” 

Your eyes roll reflexively, but your heart picks up its pace regardless.

"I’m not gonna do anything if you call it that ever again."

"Fine, fine,” he relents. “Let me show you what a good, thorough fucking feels like. Better?"

Your jaw drops, and he's laughing at you, his body shaking with amusement.

"Fuck you" you grumble, shoving him away while trying to hide your coy smile. 

"Yeah, that's what I'm hoping for," he says with a wide, self-assured grin.

"I'm leaving" you declare with a false sense of offense as you rise to your feet. Joel is quick to do the same and before you can take a single step away, he slips a finger through the belt loop of your jeans and tugs you back into him, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"I’ll stop, I’ll stop. I'm sorry" he says, not sounding it one bit.

You huff, but let him pull you closer until you’re pressed against his chest and you have to tilt your head back to look at him.

"I’ll be good. I promise."

"Liar"

"Well, yeah. But I can promise that I'll make you feel good."

You can't help the giggle that spills out and he kisses it away, his lips warm and plush and sweet against yours. The hand not resting on your lower back comes up, curling around the nape of your neck and keeping you close. You sink into him, and the fog creeps in again, dulling the rest of the world, making it seem fuzzy and distant, like the memory of a dream. All you can focus on is him, the warm solid weight of him against you, the strong arms holding you, the way his mouth moves against yours. And then he’s pulling back all too soon and you have to stifle a whine.

"Come on" he says, tugging at your hand.

His bedroom is dim, the little lamp on his nightstand and the faint glow of the moon through the curtains providing the only light. You swallow and take a deep breath as you step inside, your bare toes digging into the plush carpet, his hand warm and large where it grips yours.

He holds onto you as he sits on the edge of the bed. You step forward, letting him pull you between his knees. His hands settle on your hips, and you can feel their heat through the fabric of your shirt.

He doesn’t ask if you're sure again and you’re grateful because you’re not sure if you could form any kind of response right now. Instead, he slides his hands up and under your shirt, fingers dancing across your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps. Your breath hitches as his hands smooth over your ribs and around to your back, the tips of his fingers mapping out the curve of your spine, skimming over each notch and bump. They climb higher, the fabric of your shirt bunching around his wrists. 

“Can I take this off, baby?”

Your heart jumps to your throat but you nod anyway. He grabs the hem and tugs your shirt up and and you lift your arms so he can slip it off over your head. He tosses it aside, the fabric falling to the floor beside the bed. You’re left exposed, vulnerable and bare, save for the worn out bra you wear, a few too many washes and a few years past its prime.

Your hands itch where they hang by your side with the instinct to cover yourself, hide the imperfections that you know so well, the stretch marks, the softness of your stomach, the way the cups of your bra are just a bit too small and spill over the tops.

But then he’s pressing his lips to the space just above your navel, his scruff tickling your skin and making the muscles in your abdomen jump and twitch. His hands find your waist again, and when his lips continue their path upwards, his palms follow, skimming up your sides, thumbs tracing the outline of your ribs before stopping at the band of your bra.

"This too?" he asks, voice quiet and husky.

"Yeah" you answer with a squeak, and he grins like a kid in a candy store.

His fingers undo the clasp deftness that makes your knees go weak, the straps slipping from your shoulders and the whole thing sliding down your arms, landing somewhere near your shirt. 

"God, baby, look at you" he murmurs, his hands cupping the underside of your breasts, his thumbs sweeping over the tops and then down the slope and around your nipple. Your breath hitches, the gentle touch sending a shiver up your spine. "You're fucking perfect."

The praise is unexpected and it sends a jolt of heat through your core. You whimper quietly and his hands are on you again, the calloused palms rough on the soft skin of your breasts. He kneads the flesh, squeezing gently before rolling your nipples between his fingers, pulling and pinching and teasing. 

He pulls you closer and ducks his head, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He looks up at you through his lashes, eyes dark and hooded, and his pupils blown wide with desire.

"Can I?" he asks.

"Please."

He leans in and wraps his lips around a peaked nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, the gentle heat of his mouth on your skin making your knees weak.

His mouth works on one breast, tongue flicking and teasing while his free hand continues its work on the other. Pleasure builds and coils deep inside, the sensation unfamiliar but certainly not unwelcome. You whimper and he pulls away, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before giving it a sweet parting kiss.

He turns his attention to the other, his teeth grazing over the stiff peak and drawing a whine from your lips. He sighs when your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling at the strands until he groans softly against you. He sucks your other nipple into his mouth, the flat of his tongue pressing against it and dragging up and around, swirling and flicking. You’re already breathless, panting, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on your forehead.

"Feels good, Joel," you whisper shyly. 

"I know, honey" he says, a soft smile pulling at his lips when he pulls away. "Feel good anywhere else?"

He doesn't wait for a response, simply slips a hand between your thighs, cupping you through the denim, the simple action making you squeak.

"Here, huh?" he says, the heel of his palm pressing against you.

You gasp softly and nod, biting your lip, too shy to say anything.

"Get on the bed, baby."

You comply, crawling onto the mattress and scooting backwards towards the pillows, sitting at the head of the bed as you watch him. His eyes never leave you as he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Your heart thumps as you stare at his bare chest, his tanned skin dotted with a light dusting of salt and pepper hair. He's broad, his shoulders thick and chest solid. Your fingers burn with the urge to reach out and touch him, so you do, extending a tentative, slightly shaky hand.

He watches you closely, eyes flitting down to the palm pressed against his chest before meeting yours again, his mouth curling into a smile.

"You can touch" he says, reaching down to curl a hand around your wrist and bringing it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the center of your palm before guiding your hand back down to his chest. "I think most people would enjoy that."

"You're having entirely too much fun with this,” you mumble while your fingers spread out across his pec.  

"It is fun" he counters, his own hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, thumb pressing against the seam of your jeans and rubbing up and down. "But it'll be more fun once these come off"

Your lips part, a puff of air rushing out.

"You gonna take them off?" you ask, the words slipping out, bold and unbidden.

He grins, his brow quirking up.

"Look at you, being all bossy"

"You like it" you say, finally feeling some of the anxiety slipping away, the familiar and comfortable banter between the two of you slipping into place in a new, unfamiliar situation.

His smile takes up nearly his whole face as moves closer. 

“I sure do.” 

He looms over you, bracing himself on an elbow next to your head before ducking down to kiss you, his tongue easily slipping into your mouth, warm and insistent. You sigh into it, your hands finding the warm, bare skin of his back, muscles gliding beneath your palms as you slide them up and around, fingertips digging into his shoulders. He's so warm and solid and you can't help the little noise that slips out, a soft, needy moan. You're about to break the kiss and beg him to touch you, give you something, anything, but he pulls back before you can. 

"Impatient. I like that too" he says, voice barely above a whisper.

He kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. He continues his path, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses across your collarbones and down the valley between your breasts, his beard tickling your sternum.

His palm presses into the top of your thigh, and you instinctively open your legs for him, his hand immediately moving to cup you through the denim, thick fingers pressing against the seam and the bundle of nerves just below. Your hips rock up, seeking more pressure and he grins, entirely too pleased with himself right now.

You huff, and he laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest, but he relents, undoing the button and zipper of your jeans and tugging the fabric down, revealing the pair of pink panties underneath. 

Joel sits up, pulling your jeans down your legs and letting them drop off the side of the bed, the sound of the denim hitting the floor indicating that you've officially crossed a line that neither of you can come back from. But if the hungry, desperate look on his face and the way you're practically vibrating underneath him are any indication, neither of you want to.

"I'll start with just my fingers, yeah?" he says, his hands running up the insides of your thighs, touch light and teasing, the tips of his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. You nod dumbly, at a complete loss for words right now.

He ducks his head, his lips landing on the smooth skin stretched over your hip bone. You squirm, ticklish, and he grins. His mouth is a great distraction from his hand, which has found its way back in between your legs, his fingers now pressing against damp fabric.

"Shit" he curses, his touch firm. "Fuckin' soaked already. Am I just that good?" he quips with a smirk.

"Jesus do you ever shut up" you gripe, but the effect is ruined by the whimper that escapes you when his thumb sweeps up, pressing hard against your clit. 

"Oh, that's a pretty sound" he murmurs, repeating the motion to pull out another one, your hips bucking against his hand.

"Now," he starts, his tone shifting to the same one he uses when he's about to impart some life lesson. "This guy you're gonna see, or any man for that matter, should always take care of you before himself. That's just common fuckin' sense. And if he doesn't, you send him on his way" he continues. "Because a man that don't wanna see a woman get off is no fuckin' man at all"

You're about to interrupt, tell him he's an idiot and ask him to please, please, get on with it, but his fingers sliding under the elastic of your panties, swiftly pulling them down your legs steals the breath from your lungs. Your pulse sky rockets and you shift underneath him, crossing your thighs in instinctual effort to hide yourself from him. 

"M'sorry I didn't shave or anything" you blurt out, your throat tight with anxiety and embarrassment once again 

Joel just shakes his head as he pries your legs apart.

"Baby, I could not give less of a shit about that."

"But-"

"No" he says, the word firm, an edge of command to his tone. "You’re not apologizin’ for that. And if a man gives a shit, he's a fuckin' child who doesn't deserve the honor of bein' between these thighs" he says, pushing your knees further apart.

You nod and bite your lip, the words that are just so very Joel, settling in your chest and easing the tension in your body. You let out a long, slow breath and relax, trying to ease the nervousness.

"There ya go" he says, his fingers dancing along your slit, gathering the slick pooling there. You shudder at the gentle touch, your hips rolling up just a bit before you force them back down into the mattress, trying to keep yourself still.

"Nuh-uh. None of that" he says, immediately noticing the movement. He slides his free hand under you, his palm pushing into the small of your back and encouraging you to move again, to lean into your pleasure. "You take what you want, baby. Show me how good it feels. That's all I wanna see."

You squirm and whimper, the simple, almost lazy touch driving you insane. You've touched yourself before, brought yourself over the edge while imagining what it would be like to have the things you read about and watch in videos happen to you. But you've never managed to make yourself feel this good, never felt pleasure so intense, never felt a burning pressure in your abdomen so demanding that it radiates all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes.

And he's barely touched you.

"How's that feel?"

You can't even form the words, so you just nod and hum, the sound a mix of a whimper and a moan, your hips rolling up against his palm. He chuckles, and then the pressure increases, the friction building, his fingers slipping down, collecting more of your wetness to ease the drag against your skin.

He moves his fingers down, down, down, the tip of one circling your entrance, gathering the wetness pooling there. You whine loudly, any shame and modesty you once had replaced entirely with desperate need and pure desire.

"Please, Joel" you whisper, voice shaky.

"I gotcha" he says, dipping his fingertip in, just barely, and pulling a moan from deep in your chest. "Gonna give you what you need"

You groan, a long, low sound as he slowly sinks his finger into you. It's nothing like your own, so perfectly thick and long/ And you found the spot before, the spot that he curls his finger up into, but never at this angle, never with the perfect amount of pressure that he's applying right now. 

"Mmm, look at that" he coos as you clench tightly around his finger.

"Joel, god, feels so good" you whimper pathetically. 

"I know, honey, I know."

You clench again, the cockiness and self-assured attitude that usually gets under your skin now ignites your whole body in an entirely different way. He keeps his eyes on your face, watching as your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drops open, your head tipping back as the pleasure builds.

"Another" you beg, the fullness not nearly enough.

"Greedy girl" he chides, but he pulls his finger out, and slides two back in. You swear that you could come from this alone, but he doesn't let you, the hand that was supporting your lower back disappearing, only to reappear between your thighs, his thumb circling your clit with firm, steady strokes.

White hot pleasure wraps around the base of your spine, the dual sensations of his fingers and his thumb sending you spiraling. The sounds falling from your lips are unrecognizable, high and desperate as your mind goes blissfully blank, your entire focus on the heat coiling in your abdomen. Your eyebrows pinch together and you bury your face in the pillow next to your head, trying to hide the ridiculous expression you're surely making, but you inhale the traces of his shampoo and cologne that cling to the fabric, the scent pushing you even closer to the edge. 

You try to hold back. Surely you're not supposed to come this quickly, not just from two fingers and a thumb. Surely that's a sign that you're an easy lay, or too inexperienced, or-

"Just let it happen, baby. I can feel it, Just let go" Joel says, his voice cutting through the thoughts racing through your mind, his fingers crooking inside you and dragging across the spot that makes your hips stutter and a cry fall from your lips.

You can't hold back any longer, the pleasure cresting and crashing down around you. You squeeze his fingers, your back arching, the heels of your feet digging into the mattress as you roll your hips up into his touch, seeking more and more and more. And he gives and gives and gives, working you through it and drawing it out for as long as he can before you melt into the mattress, bones and muscles liquid and warm and satisfied.

He pulls his fingers out, and the sudden emptiness draws a disappointed whine from you, his answering chuckle making you smile.

"That was- fuck" you sigh, not quite capable of coherent thought.

"Absolutely mind-blowing? Yeah I know" he teases. You roll your eyes but don't say anything because it's true, and his cocky grin fades into a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches you return to Earth. 

"Can I- can I return the favor?" you ask, your gaze flicking down to the noticeable bulge in his jeans.

He grunts and shakes his head.

"Not yet. Got somethin' else in mind."

You frown and push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he shifts from his position. You're about to ask what he's going to do until he's settling himself on his stomach between your thighs. You suck in a sharp breath as you realize exactly what he's got planned and your heart jumps, anxiety clouding your mind once again. 

He rests his cheek on your thigh, his eyes meeting yours.

"Alright?"

You swallow and nod, licking your lips.

"Yeah. Just... no one's ever-"

"Yeah, I got that much, that's why we're here" he says, smiling smugly when you glare at him. 

"But what if it's not good? Or I don't taste good? Or-"

"Stop" he says, the single word halting your runaway train of thought. "You need lessons in relaxing, not sex. You're so fucking tense all the time"

"Sorry" you say, immediately cringing.

He sighs, his breath ghosting over the skin of your inner thigh, making you shiver. "What did I say about apologizin'?" he says, his tone slightly sharp.

"I know. Sorry- shit, sorry! Fuck!"

He barks out a laugh and you huff, bringing up both hands to scrub over your face.

"See what I mean?"

"Yes, yes, you're very smart and know everything"

He hums and nips at your thigh.

"Damn right I do."

You want to snark back, but his mouth is moving, his lips trailing down the inside of your thigh and towards where you're aching for him, slick and wet and throbbing. He takes his time, laying kisses on your thighs, hips, and stomach, his scruff scraping the sensitive skin, huffing out a laugh when you start to squirm, your patience wearing thin.

His hands smooth over the soft flesh of your inner thighs, urging you to spread them wider before spreading you open with his thumbs, exposing you completely. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and the urge to close your legs and hide yourself from his gaze is overwhelming, the embarrassment making your skin burn. But before you can even think about closing them, his tongue is on you, sliding up the length of you and circling your clit. The moan that escapes you is embarrassingly loud and high pitched, but the mortification is easily swallowed up by the pleasure.

He hums against you, the sound and the feeling sending a shudder through your body. Your hands grip the pillow behind your head and you try not to buck up into his mouth, but your attempts are futile. He doesn't seem to mind though, in fact you think it spurs him on, his tongue flattening against you and lapping at you messily, the wetness he's coaxed from you smearing across his mouth and chin.

The sound is lewd and obscene, the sloppy, slick noises and the soft grunts and groans that rumble in his chest as he works you up. He pulls back, his breath coming out in pants, his chest heaving as he looks up at you, his eyes dark and hooded.

"Don't know what you were worried about" he says, his voice low and raspy. "You taste fuckin' divine"

His beard is shiny and damp, his lips glistening, hair messy from where your fingers were tangled in it. The sight of him looking so completely disheveled and filthy has you clenching around nothing, the ache almost too much to bear.

He doesn't say anything else, just ducks his head and gets back to work, his mouth moving with a renewed urgency, his hands gripping your thighs and pushing them further apart, allowing him better access.

Your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open, a constant stream of moans and whines and babbling pleas and praises falling from your lips, but you're not really sure what you're saying, not really sure of anything except the intoxicating pleasure coursing through your veins.

You hear him moan, can feel the vibration against your skin, and you glance down at him, and that's a mistake. The sight of him, his eyes closed and brows drawn together in concentration, his cheeks hollowed out as he sucks and nips and laps at you and– is he fucking grinding his hips into the mattress?

You're fucked.

A throaty moan tumbles past your lips as your hips start to rock, a rhythm forming as you chase your orgasm. His hands leave your thighs and he slides one arm up, the weight of it resting against your abdomen to keep you still while his other hand snakes down, fingers dipping inside again, finding the spot that makes you see stars.

"Fuck, Joel, please, oh my god, I'm so- please"

He groans in response, the hand on your stomach pressing down harder to meet the two fingers curling and stroking inside of you. You cry out at the increased pressure right as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bud, his fingers moving faster and faster. Flames lick up your spine and spread throughout your body, threatening to burn you alive. 

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, knocking the wind out of you and turning your limbs to jello. Wave after wave of blinding euphoria crashes over you and all you can do is cling to the pillow and arch your back, your toes curling as he continues to work his fingers and tongue, happily letting you ride his face and grind into his mouth.

He doesn't let up, not until you're a whimpering, trembling mess, physically pushing his head away when it becomes too much. He pulls back reluctantly, a wicked grin plastered to his face, his chin and mouth absolutely soaked. You're panting, struggling to catch your breath as the aftershocks make you shiver despite the content warmth spreading throughout your entire body.You feel sated and sleepy, a bone deep satisfaction making you feel boneless. 

But as you come down from your high, rational thoughts start to filter in and you suddenly remember the reason this all started in the first place.

You're here to learn, he should be teaching you how to please a man.

How to please him. 

You watch as he gets off the bed and wipes his chin with the back of his hand. Your eyes shamelessly rake over him, the dusty pink flush that decorates his neck and chest, the curve of his belly down to the impressive bulge in his jeans. 

You push yourself up, ignoring the way your arms tremble with the effort. He looks at you, his eyes scanning your face no doubt looking for signs of distress.

"You ok?" he asks, eyebrows pinched together in his typical concerned Joel fashion.

"Yeah" you say, a little breathlessly. "But I still want to..."

Your voice trails off and you glance down at his crotch, hoping he gets the message.

"That's alright, baby. It's a lot, we don't-"

"No" you interrupt, a hint of desperation in your voice. "You said you would teach me. Please, Joel. I-I wanna learn" You hope it's a good enough cover to the fact that you really just want him, your original goal forgotten. "I just don't want to embarrass myself" you add, pouting slightly for good measure, praying to god that he can’t detect the underlying want for him and him only.

He watches you for a moment, seemingly contemplating his decision. And then his eyes narrow, because of course he knows. There's never been an instance where you succeeded in lying to this man. He always, always knows when something is off.

"Alright" he says, a slow smile spreading across his face, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. "Dick sucking class is now in session"

You groan, your face twisting with visible disgust.

"Oh my god, that was terrible."

"What? It's true" he says with a shrug.

"That is- no, no way. Never say those words ever again. Ever." you say, pointing a finger at him accusingly.

"Or what?" he challenges, taking a step towards the bed.

You gulp and lick your lips.

"Or..."

He waits expectantly for a response. You have none, so you just shake your head and look away.

"Yeah, that's what I thought"

You glare at him and then sigh.

"You're a bully"

"Am I?” He asks, taking a step back to give you more room. “ 'Cause you're the one that asked me to teach ya. On your knees, kid. Let's see whatcha got."

You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress a grin. You don't know how he does it, but his ability to make a joke or a quip out of anything always has a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, even when the jokes are awful and the puns are terrible. Even when the joke is about you getting ready to suck his dick. 

"You're a bully and a pervert" you say, sliding off the bed and sliding to your knees, the plush carpet doing a decent job at protecting your joints.

"And proud of it.”

"Pride is a sin."

"So is premarital sex, so I'll see you in hell, honey"

You snort and look up at him from your place on the floor, grinning widely.

"You're ridiculous"

"You love it"

And that's the thing, isn't it?

Because you do. You love his innate ability to make you laugh, to make you smile even when he's about to take your fucking virginity. He knows how to comfort you, how to put you at ease, when to push you with his teasing and when to pull back and let you take control. You've never met a person who has so effortlessly made their way into your heart.

And here you are, on your knees for him under the false pretense of practicing for a man who's name you can't even remember right now.

You shake your head, the motion clearing the thoughts and the emotions that were swirling in your head, the ones that make you want to stand up and kiss him, kiss him until your lips are numb and you're left gasping for air.

"Joel?" you say his name softly.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Teach me."

Part 2 is already in the works I promise hehehe thank you for reading I hope u all enjoy!!

#joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #the last of us #tlou fic #joel miller #pedro pascal characters

[rslashrats]

🪰 housefly734 Follow

just a reminder that flies rubbing their hands together =/= plotting a nasty scheme

🪰 r0tt1ngm3at Follow

FINALLY SOMEONE SAID IT!! I HATE THE STEREOTYPE THAT US RUBBING OUR HANDS TOGETHER MEANS WE ARE PLANNING SOMETHING DUBIOUS!!

🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow

^^ Boosting! I constantly get non-flies giving me death glares whenever I wash my hands in the restroom. Like, that's what you're supposed to do after going to the bathroom! Sorry for being hygienic I guess 🙄

🪰 diptera-doll Follow

Reasons why flies might be rubbing their hands together:

It's chilly out and they're trying to warm up

They just put hand sanitizer/lotion/hand cream on

They're rolling a ball of clay together

What you should do if you see a fly rubbing their hands together:

Leave them alone! It's none of your business

Hope this helped! :)

🪰 flyhlghh Follow

people also forget that hand-rubbing is a very common stim!! neurodivergent flies constantly get stigmatized for showing any traits of their neurodivergencies in public!! please don't forget that!!

🐝 iamrealflytrustme Follow

I dont know about you losers but i like to rub my hands together because i am planning the most heinous and villanous crimes in my head

🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow

Wow, most obvious troll I have ever seen in my life. Get a life, dude 🙄

🪰 compoundeyehaver Follow

> claims to be a real fly

> has bee as their profile pic

dude couldn even get the right insect for their shitty troll account LMFAOOOOO

🐝 iamrealflytrustme Follow

No i am real fly and i am plotting to land on someones pie rn and ruin it with all my real fly germs. rubbing my hands together as i do it too

🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow

Anyone wanna bet this guy is some amphibian from 4frog typing this nonsense from their lilypad right now? Just me? Okay-

🐝 iamrealflytrustme Follow

I am buzzing around people's ears now

🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow

Yep, that pretty much confirms my theory. The nerve of some non-flies, I swear 🙄

🪰 batsianmimc Follow

@venus-fly-trap-hater

🪰 venus-fly-trap-hater Follow

this post is so real!! tysm babe for sending it to me 💞 ilyy

🪰 batsianmimc Follow

ILY too sugar cube 😘

🐝 iamrealflytrustme Follow

Can you guys stop kissing on this post its ruining my evil scheme planning

🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow

Can't believe this guy is still at it, honestly. @staff @tumblr Please take action against fake fly troll accounts such as these ones!

🐝 iamrealflytrustme Follow

Staff cant kill me i rubbed my hands on them too hard and they dieded sorry

🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow

🤣🤣🤣 Oh the excuses this fake is making, LOL! I haven't been this entertained since the Bombylius major discourse last year!

🪰 compoundeyehaver Follow

why are you still arguing with the troll instead of just blocking

🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow

Just think it's entertaining to see the lack of logic that bounces around in the brains of these non-flies sometimes 🤷‍♀️ Every response this so called "I am a real fly, trust me" user has given me has just made me crack up and flap my wings together.

🐝 iamrealflytrustme Follow

I am gonna rub my hands and plan more evil schemes involving you next

🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow

Heh, just try it, kid. Go on, I'll wait. 🥱

🦗 chirpingboy Follow

things are getting heated in the fly community

🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow

Of course a Grasshopper has the nerve to comment something insensitive on this post. Honestly, just mind your business 🙄

🦗 chirpingboy Follow

okayy

🦗 hopping-along-the-bank Follow

Hey, you can't really preach for not discriminating against flies and then discriminate against a grasshopper, dude. Not cool.

🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow

I think I certainty can, with my past experiences of Grasshoppers always finding the ways to say the most uneducated and baseless takes on my previous posts and discussions. Plus, after the Fly-Grasshopper War of 247 BC (in which my ancestors fought in, mind you) and the consequences that followed it, I think I am well within my rights. But go ahead, frame me as the bad guy here. 🤣

🦗 hopping-along-the-bank Follow

Yeah, you say this and conveniently ignore the socio-economic struggles that grasshoppers have been facing for the past century, many of these issues which were spearheaded by fly conservative politicians in office at the time.

So, yeah, it is rather hypocritical for you to pull out these cards when grasshoppers have also been punished and gotten the short end of the stick throughout bug history.

🪰 crane-fly-wives Follow

The implication that all flies are responsible for a few greedy politicians is quite comical, really. 🥱 Not to mention that many Grasshopper politicians in Bugland and Bugtopia have also had histories of introducing laws that have severely affected communities majorly made up of Flies. But sure, keep arguing with me about this, buddy. I got all day 🤣

🐝 iamrealflytrustme Follow

I am still rubbing my hands and planing schemes btw

🪰 flythatlovestogethigh Follow

anyone smoke bug weed in this thread

#bugs #insects #long post

[wolfiesmoon]

Lockscreen background

Malleus x gn!reader

i seem to have a thing for characters who are clueless abt technology hahaha, this takes place before we actually find out his real name btw

(also i apologise if malleus is ooc in any way i'm still in the early books of the game😭)

"Hello." You heard a voice behind you as you exited the classroom. You turned around to find... uh, Hornton, was it? You still can't get over the stupid nickname that Grim picked, but he seems completely okay with you calling him that, so you keep doing it.

What could he possibly want with you?

"Uhh, hi...!" you greeted him back awkwardly.

"I have a somewhat trivial yet important matter I need help with." He opened and you tilted your head slightly. Now your interest is piqued.

"Let's go somewhere more... private." he suggested at your confused expression. You nodded slowly. Though this whole conversation is strange so far, he looks anything but malicious. And knowing him, he never is.

The two of you went to a more secluded part of the school and as soon as you got there, he pulled something out from his pocket, handing it to you. It looked to be a brand new phone.

"Could you help me with this object? I have no idea how to use it and you are the only one I can approach about this." he looked a little worried.

"Sure, what do you need help with?" you offered and his expression softened slightly.

"Turning it on, for starters."

A silence fills the room.

"Ahahahaha, oh jeez... I'm- I'm sorry- hahahaha...!" You couldn't help but laugh. He didn't even know how to turn it on?

Needless to say, he was not amused by your laughter. "If you will laugh at me, I will not be needing your help anymore." He crossed his arms.

"No- No- I'm sorry, I really am." You had to hold back a few giggles. "I'll help- I'll help you, you just shocked me with how little you know about a.. p-phone." He suddenly seemed like a 90 year old grandpa who bought a phone to talk to his grandkids and didn't know the first thing about it. What a funny mental image.

"You're talking strangely." He commented, and you quickly turned the phone in his direction before he could question your attempts at stifling a laugh.

"Here, see this button? You press it and the phone turns on, like this." You demonstrated, and his face lit up.

"I see. But, the salesperson informed me that this phone is unlockable by something called 'Face ID' as well. Do you know what that is by any chance?" The genuine interest in his voice was actually kind of cute.

"Don't worry about all that. Actually, why are you buying a phone only now?" You thought it was strange. If he was this clueless about technology, why buy a modern cellphone all of a sudden?

"During class, some of my classmates were discussing about these so called phones. They talked about something called a 'magicam'. And I... became curious." the little pause at the third sentence made you think that might just not be the full truth. But you have no reason to be suspicious or question him on it, so you just told yourself to forget about it.

"Magicam might be a little too... advanced for you right now. Here, let's start by exchanging contacts." You showed him the 'contacts' app, opening it and inputting your number and your name.

You handed the phone back to him. "Here, now press this green button on the bottom left and you'll call me." he did as you instructed and your phone started vibrating in your pocket. You pulled it out, answering the call.

"Hello!" you said cheerfully.

"I can... hear you twice. Is there magic imbued within a phone?" his eyes were widened slightly, even more so when he heard his own voice from your phone.

"You silly goose, we only hear eachother twice because we're standing right next to eachother. Stay here and place the phone next to your ear, okay?" you smiled at him, walking away.

"I am not silly and I am certainly not a goose. I thought it was obvious enough by taking once glance at me."

"It's not an insult, Hornton. It's like a silly little thing you say to someone when they say something, well, silly." you smile, now completely out of his line of sight and standing in a different room.

After a few moments of silence, he spoke again "I can still hear your voice."

"Yup, that's what a phone is, in essence. Nowadays we use it for a lot of things, but basically, you can call people on it and you'll hear their voice and talk to them, no matter how far away from you they are. Isn't that cool?"

"How very fascinating." you could hear his amusement through the phone.

"Oh, I just have one more thing to do! I'll come back in a moment!" you ended the call, running back to where you were before.

"I got suprised for a moment. The phone made a strange noise and I couldn't hear you anymore." he cleared his throat. He must have panicked a bit when you hung up. How cute. "Calling someone is definitely much more convenient than sending them a letter."

You just realised that he's probably been sending physical, handwritten letters to everyone up until this point which makes him even more charmingly old-timey in your eyes. How funny is that?

"Give the phone here for a moment." you requested and when he did so, you opened the camera app and turned it towards the two of you to take a selfie. You could see him inspect himself through the phone.

"I see, so it functions as a mirror, too. What a marvel."

"Well, do I have news for you. This is the camera app, and we're going to take a photo together. Now smile!" you nudged him slightly and he smiled very awkwardly and unnaturally. Oh well, you'll take it.

You snapped the photo, setting it as his lockscreen.

"Here, now you have a photo of me and you as your background!" he took the phone back, staring at your face on the screen.

"I actually have something I have to be doing right now, so I'll continue teaching you about phones later! Call me if you need anything! Oh, and I'll save your number too, don't worry!" You waved to him, running down the hallway.

"Goodbye." he said back, immediately looking back down at your picture with him. Your face is truly precious in it. He is very glad to be in possession of a photo of you.

He knew you were the right person to ask.

.

The reason he decided to buy a phone was that he felt sad because he couldn't talk to anyone without a disconnect. Ignoring the fact that most of his classmates are afraid of him, they wouldn't be able to find common ground in hobbies and conversation topics regardless.

So he thought that maybe he could start by getting a phone upon hearing students discuss phone cases and the like. Surely, understanding what the masses currently enjoy would make him more approachable.

He is eternally thankful to you for helping him out.

You're very welcoming to him and that makes him indescribably happy. One day he'll repay you with all the things you could ever want. He has the abilities to do that, after all.

Maybe he should give you something as a thank you next time you meet, actually. What did you say you enjoyed again?

That's what he thought about as he looked at his lockscreen on his bed that night. If only you saw the way he smiled at your photo.

#˗ˏˋ ★ ♡ 「Wolfie’s other works」 ♡ ★ ˎˊ˗ #i swear i love the other boys too i just keep getting ideas for these three specifically 😔 #twisted wonderland x yuu #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst x y/n #disney twst #twst x reader #twst x you #twst x yuu #twst x mc #malleus x yuu #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #malleus x y/n #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia x yuu #malleus draconia x mc

[augustinewrites]

what are reader’s thoughts about gojo’s black shirt look (similar to what we see in jjk 221) aka what does she think of that bod (＾▽＾)

afternoons were busy, in your experience. the school was awake and alive with energy, bodies moving to and fro as they worked through the day's tasks.

at this time, just after lunch, people typically stopped by your office. whether it was megumi stopping by for a reprieve from his larger than life friends, shoko coming to drag you out for a late lunch, or gojo coming to sprawl himself out on your couch.

so when the sun is high in the sky and no one has come to bother you, you're a little concerned.

when you inquire principal yaga about this, he says he'd last seen nanami headed towards the training grounds. naturally, that's the first place you go. surely he can help you round up your students and their other teacher.

when you arrive at the training grounds, you're surprised to see the first and second year students gathered there, including shoko, watching something just out of your periphery.

"what are you guys doing?" you ask, catching shoko's attention.

she simply gestures to the main area. "sight-seeing."

"sight-seeing?" you frown. "this is the training grounds."

"i know."

you follow her line of sight, curious to see what's gotten everyone's attention.

oh.

the summer breeze combined with the afternoon sun seems to have prompted nanami and gojo to shed a few layers of clothing as they sparred. nanami's abandoned his blazer, the sleeves of his blue dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, and the topmost buttons undone.

gojo's thrown his jacket aside, leaving him in a nicely fitted black t-shirt.

wordlessly, you lower yourself to sit next to shoko.

with his loose-fitting uniform, it was easy to forget how brawny your fiancé was. now you could see everything. broad shoulders tapering down to a trim waist and long legs.

he's handling himself in hand-to-hand combat against nanami with ease, footwork practiced and posture immaculate. his body is tight, muscular, rigid. the tension of his toned biceps just right as he swings at the blond. he smirks when it connects and the sorcerer is knocked backward a few steps. it's horribly attractive.

"hey," shoko interrupts your daydreaming when she nudges you. "did you need something?"

you're too busy tracking a drop of sweat rolling down the side of gojo's throat to recall. "i don't remember."

you can't really focus when he's panting like that, chest heaving and tongue darting out to glide across his bottom lip. he grunts with the effort of deflecting a hit, his muscles flexing as he maneuvers his torso to avoid a follow up. when his shirt rides up, you absolutely don't think about where that white trail of hair below his navel leads, heat pooling in your gut as--

"why aren't you both working?"

you both jump as if you'd been caught doing something illegal as principal yaga steps in front of you, arms crossed.

"sorry, sir," you apologize, bowing your head as your face heats up.

_____

gojo is equal parts confused and aroused when he steps into your office and you immediately lock the door behind him. this may or may not have been the beginning of a fantasy of his.

“noticed you oogling me earlier,” he smirks. then he pauses, thinking. “or is it ogling? am i saying it right?”

“satoru?”

“yeah babe?”

“shut up.”

he's half convinced this is a fantasy when you grab the front of his shirt and pull him close, hungrily pressing your lips to his.

he goes to lift them hem of his shirt up, but you stop him, muttering,

keep it on.

well, he thinks as you trail kisses down the column of his throat.

if you say so.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #keeping up with the fushigojos: extended cut!

[toruro]

— ✧ exes and oh's

pairing. choi seungcheol x reader

description. when your ex-best friend breaks up with your other ex-best friend, you’re stuck between keeping this door (that you never wanted closed) shut tight, and making amends. naturally, choosing to let your heart open to the person who ripped it apart isn’t the easiest of decisions, but then again, life has a funny way of making you choose.

tags. smut (18+), UNEDITED (i wrote this mostly when i was half asleep, there will be missing words), angst, oral (f receiving), petnames, past toxic relationships/ friendships, referenced cheating, alcohol consumption (+ mentions of vomiting + poor decisions abt alcohol in general), rebuilding relationships, trust issues, joshua is extremely protective it's honestly a little annoying, a disgusting amount of internal monologue i am So sorry, theres a lot in this one so if i missed anything lmk

fic playlist.

w/c. 15.8k+

a/n. 1K SPECIAL SORRY IT'S A LITTLE LATE...anyways i really tried to make sure this wasn't super corny but i prob got carried away i can't even tell anymore. update. this is cringe as hell

Your day today is slow, like every other. You aren’t sure why you expect anything different—well maybe you do know. It’s the optimist in you, a small voice in your head says, as you drop down your bookbag next to Joshua’s chair, the two of you slipping into your seats. Optimism my ass, you shoot back at yourself.

“Can you cover my shift?” Joshua asks, turning to you on his chair. You two have just finished your econ lecture and are sitting in the library to catch up on notes.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you give him a wary look. “Joshua,” you whine, pulling out your notebook and pen down.

“C’mon you said you needed some extra cash, and I need the night off anyways. I’ll get you back with something,” he promises as you narrow your eyes.

“Now what do you have that makes you need the night off?”

“Well there’s this party—” he pauses when you huff.

“And what’s to say I wouldn’t like to go to this party?” you retort, slightly annoyed that he expects you to cover his shift over something like this.

Joshua signs, running a hand through his hair. “Well I can say that I don’t think you would be especially keen on going,” he tells you honestly, and then when you catch the look in his eyes you falter.

You think about probing further, but second guess yourself—you probably shouldn’t. It isn’t good for your heart. You are trying to work on putting yourself, your heart, first, but as they say, curiosity killed the cat. “Why do you say that?” you ask, and Joshua gives you that look.

He knows where this is going, and he’s slightly disappointed in you for going against your personal goal of not bringing it up. Then again, he doesn’t control you, and while he can try to guide you down the path of reparations and healing, he can’t force you anywhere.

“Cheol’s birthday is tomorrow,” he tells you like you don’t know. Like you don’t still have it marked down in bright blue sharpie on your calendar. It’s only been six months since you’ve last talked to him, and you don’t feel the need to buy a whole new calendar for the sake of getting rid of his and Yejin’s name.

That, and you don’t think taking his name off would help you forget anyways. Ten years, you think to yourself, ten years shouldn’t be disposed of as easily as a calendar, although it seems Yejin and Cheol had no problem doing just that.

Joshua catches you zoning out. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“No it’s okay,” you sigh, leaning back in your chair. “It’s not like I didn’t know, I don’t know why I asked.” Joshua looks at you sadly.

“The party…it’s going to be a big one, since Soonyoung is throwing it. You can come if you really want, you probably won’t run into Seungcheol anyways,” Joshua offers.

You scrunch up your face, shaking your head. “And Yejin? Either way, I don’t want to even think about how it would look if I showed up to a party for his birthday.”

Joshua gives you a wear look. “You don’t know?”

“Huh? Know what?”

“Cheol and Yejin broke up a while ago.”

“Oh.” You blink once, then twice, staring down at your shoes before inhaling sharply.

“I’m sorry. I thought you knew.”

You shrug, responding, “Whatever. Don’t apologize. I don’t have any business with either of them anyways.”

“Okay but—”

“Seriously Josh,” you mutter, turning to him so he can see the pleading look on your face. “Let’s talk about something else, yeah? I’ll cover your shift.” Joshua gives you a tentative look, opening his mouth before you stop him. “Seriously,” you repeat, “It’s fine.”

And the truth is, you are fine. Sure it hurts when you think about them too much, and even if they are broken up, it doesn’t really make you feel much better, but you are okay. Your days are often dull, yes, but you aren’t unhappy. You’re content, and being in your final year of university, you figure that being content is all you need.

Excitement and love are not quite at the forefront of your mind, and while it does cause a nasty knot to build up in your throat when you think about Cheol and Yejin and all the fun times you have spent with them, you quietly tell yourself that things just played out the way they were supposed to.

You tell yourself that if it didn’t work out, it wasn’t meant to work out. That your life had plans, and that those plans didn’t include them.

As you walk home, you scoff to yourself, thinking about how Cheol and Yejin were willing to give up ten years of friendship with you—with each other—for something that didn’t even last half a year.

Of course it’s painful, but at the end of the day, you’re okay with that.

“You’re pathetic,” Yejin spits out, and you feel yourself growing dizzy. Her animosity that’s more apparent than ever is all you can think about it, and it has your jaw going slack. “How could you—” her face contorts into something so full of hate that you brace yourself for her next words, “How could you do this to me?”

You still, blinking as you let the words sink in. You want to argue, to fight back, to defend yourself, but the words fall flat on your tongue. You want to scream, I didn’t do anything to you, want to tell her that your feelings aren’t there to hurt her, but you can’t. “Yejin—”

“It doesn’t even matter now,” she cuts you off, sucking in a sharp breath, her face that was momentarily scrunched up into anger is now relaxing, looking back at the door where music booms from the party.

“Are you just going to leave?” you manage to ask, steading your breaths as best as you can. Yejin looks at you and from the way she’s slightly taller than you, you nearly cower back in anticipation for her next words.

Yejin always did tend to have a bit of a mean streak, but only towards those she felt had wronged her—never to you. Always had a snarky comment to throw, but never in your direction. Always ready to be on the offense if she felt she needed to, and for the first time in your ten years of friendship, you know what it’s like to be on the receiving end.

Yejin never answers your question. “Cheol likes me,” she tells you as if it isn’t obvious. As if you haven’t mulled over that fact for the past month, the tell-tale lips of Joshua spilling you Seungcheol’s secrets many nights before. “He doesn’t like you.” Yejin pauses. “Because you’re boring.”

Your world stills. Everything was spinning in a hazy maze a moment ago but now it all has paused and her words are hitting you in slow motion. “What?” you try to ask but your voice comes out hardly above a whisper.

Yejin scoffs, and you know in this moment that that is the meanest thing she could have done. “You’re boring,” she repeats, “and that’s why—” she takes a deep breath, “—even if he didn’t like me, he wouldn’t like you, so I’m telling you now to give up.”

You gulp, and the words spill out of your mouth before you can stop. “I was never going to make a move on him,” you retort, finally finding the words stuck in your throat, and while you gain confidence for a moment, it withers away when you catch the amused look on Yejin’s face. “I can’t believe you would think I’d go for him if you liked him.”

“That’s your problem!” Yejin exclaims exasperatedly. “You were going to do nothing even if none of us found out,” she spits out, and you feel your knees growing wobbly again as Yejin continues. “You claim you love him but you’re just willing to give him up like that? That’s pathetic. You are pathetic.”

She turns on her heel, and you call out to her one last time. “Are you—”

“Get Joshua to drive you home,” is the last thing she ever says to you.

Taking Joshua’s shift is boring. Not that you expect anything different—getting you excited for work is not one of your optimism’s capabilities. Evenings at the coffee shop are busier than one would expect, but after considering the fact that it’s the only one open past seven p.m. on campus, the crowd begins to make sense.

You spend your time making drinks for the many students who are—much like yourself—simply trying to get through the night, but you would be lying if you say you don’t notice that the turn out is a little…smaller. After all, it is a Friday evening and Soonyoung’s parties are infamous on campus for being…well for being thrown by Soonyoung.

He’ll invite anyone and everyone, so you wouldn’t be surprised if your instagram feed will be filled with nothing but pictures from Cheol’s party tonight. Not that you care. You don’t want to go, you have no reason to.

Still, you wonder: would Yejin show up? If they did break up, like Joshua told you, what were the circumstances? Are they still friends? What happened? Why did they—

No.You shouldn’t do this to yourself, you can’t. Yejin isn’t your friend anymore, and neither is Cheol. What happened between them shouldn’t be your business—it isn’t. Leave it alone, you tell yourself, tapping your foot on the ground.

Yet, every time you look over the empty seats that fill the cafe, you’re reminded of just why not many people are here tonight. Seungcheol. Chewing on your bottom lip, you go against your better judgment and pull out your phone, immediately tapping on instagram.

Your stories are filled with a plethora of videos and pictures from the house that Cheol shares with Jeonghan and some other friends. It’s dark both inside and out, the only thing illuminating the house being led lights and pool lights in the backyard.Fondly, you remember last summer and Cheol’s birthday, which was spent at his house with you. Yejin, and some other friends in his pool from morning ‘til night. Fun times, you think, and you quietly wonder if Cheol will remember those memories today, or if he will leave them in his dust.

Tapping through the stories, you purse your lips together, inhale sharply, and begin to make yourself a drink. It’s too late in the evening for you to be thinking about this.

Seungcheol’s head is pounding. He can hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears and then there’s the music that has its vibrations going straight to his heart as he stumbles over his own words.

Lights everywhere flashing different colors and he isn’t sure when one cup turns into two, which turns into three, which turns into fuck-knows-how-many until Jeonghan is grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pushing him into an empty room, calling Joshua over.

Again, Seungcheol’s head is pounding. And he fucking loves it.

Joshua and Jeonghan, on the other hand, are frustrated. Cheol is trying to push through them, clawing for the door as his legs hit each other in a mangled mess until he’s falling onto them as they hold him back.

“You guys can’t fucking do this,” he whines, throwing his head back as he brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“When you said you were going to go crazy tonight,” Joshua mutters, “I didn’t realize you meant literally. Are fucking insane?” he hisses.

Cheol gives him an angry look, seeming to sober up for a moment as he straightens his back. “It’s my birthday, giving me a fucking break.”

“If you keep acting like this it’s going to be your death day soon too,” Jeonghan warns, earning him a glare.

“Seriously, do you want alcohol poisoning or something?” Joshua agrees. “Don’t drink anything else for the night, I’m serious.”

“And if I do?” Seungcheol challenges.

“We’ll tell Soonyoung to call it all off. You know he’ll do it if we ask,” Jeonghan states simply.

Cheol scoffs, but doesn’t reply, exercising his last bit of common sense to understand what Jeonghan and Joshua say, they mean. He needs to tread lightly.

Not that he cares much. He hasn’t got much to lose—Cheol only suggested this party because he knew that if it was anything short of big, he’d be reminded of the missing holes in his life right now.

His plan was unsuccessful, clearly, because even with cups after cups of spike punch, he’s still mulling over the fact there’s over a hundred people in this house and not a single one of them is you. Cheol had asked Joshua to bring it up with you—asked him to lead you in the right direction. The right direction being him.

He wasn’t really sure what his expectations were when he suggested it, but now it’s clear that Cheol really was expecting you to show up. He didn’t prepare for any other outcome, especially not one like this, where he’s wasted before the clock even strikes twelve. He’s on the verge of passing out when Joshua leaves the room, only Jeonghan and Cheol in each other’s presence as the former makes sure his elder doesn’t collapse.

Seungcheol’s head is pounding and he thinks it feels fucking great.

Fuck, he really needs to throw up.

You’re back at the cafe two days later, once again spending your evening serving students. It’s a bit of a lighter day, so only you and Jeongyeon are working, catching up and making light conversation through the day.

“Tired?” you ask her, when you catch her leaning against the counter with a wince.

She nods, turning up to look at you. “Chemistry is killing me. I want to cry just thinking about my next exam,” whe groans, throwing her head back. “I think humans have evolved too much. There’s no reason we should have explore this much about like, fucking atoms. Why can’t we just be happy creatures—ignorance is bliss, after all.”

You laugh out loud, not bothering to look at the door when you hear the bell of its opening ringing. “Take a break, yeah? I’ll manage for the next half an hour, if you just wanna sit and chill for a bit,” you offer, Jeongyeon letting out a sigh of relief.

“Are you serious?” she exclaims before hugging you tightly. “I fucking love you,” she says, pulling away and hopping down the back counter and to the back room while you smile widely before turning around to face the new customer at the counter.

Your smile drops faster than you can blink.

Seungcheol’s smile, at one time, was among one of your favorite sights on the whole damn planet. Now, you can’t help but turn away, too scared to look him in the eye. Scared that if you look long enough, you’ll find something you aren’t ready to see.

Don’t falter, you tell yourself. You haven’t been healing for months for it to amount to nothing. “What can I get you?” you ask casually, looking down at the cashier tablet, pretending to look through the catalog.

You didn’t look at him long enough to see if his smile vanished just as quickly as yours, to see if he expected you, to know what he was thinking at all honestly. You aren’t ready for that, and it’s pathetic, you think to yourself.

“Uh,” is the first thing you hear Cheol say to you after six months. You aren’t sure what you’re expecting him to follow with, but it is most definitely not, “Don’t you know my usual?”

It takes all your self control to not snap your eyes up and say, of course I know your usual, I never forgot, how could I forget, it’s always an iced latte with—“No, sorry, I don’t,” you say flatly, still not looking at him.

Cheol is slightly surprised by your choice of words, partly because when Joshua told him that your door was shut and not going to budge open, he didn’t really believe him. Maybe he knew he wouldn’t be able to hit it straight off the bat when he tried to reconcile, but he definitely wasn’t expecting this.

Not that he planned this—he knew you worked here, just not when. Cheol was just struck with luck when he walked in, ready to order a coffee when his eyes landed on your familiar figure this evening, and as an opportunist, he just couldn’t turn down the chance to try and talk to you.

Of course now, he isn’t sure if this course of action was the right one—you were never cold, not to him, not to Yejin, not to anyone really. It’s weird, he thinks.

“Iced latte with hazelnut syrup, please,” he replies with a small nod of acceptance. Joshua was right. Your door was locked.

“Your drink will come out over there,” you say, pointing over to the left counter. “Cash or card?”

He thinks it’s worth a shot to try again. “When was the last time I used anything but card?” Cheol accepts defeat when you don’t crack a smile, not even one bit.

“So you’re using card?” you ask plainly, turning the tablet over so he can swipe down. Cheol chuckles nervously as he pulls out his wallet. He doesn’t say anything after that, and for that, you are grateful.

Once he’s done paying, you turn on your heel quickly and make his drink. You don’t look up, don’t turn back—you don’t know if you’re ready to see him watching you, if he is at all. You aren’t sure what you’d like more: having him watching you, or having him not.

Gulping down a hard lump in your throat as you wait to pull the shot of espresso, you think deeply. It’s just how Jeongyeon said it, you figure: ignorance is bliss.

Jeongyeon thinks parties aren’t your thing. “They just don’t suit you,” she explains when you’re working one afternoon.

You furrow your eyebrows. “What do you mean not my thing?”

She shrugs, carrying in some boxes of cups. “It’s not a bad thing—I’m not calling you boring or anything—I’m just saying. You’re a very work-at-a-coffee-shop kind of girl, and not a let’s-go-party kind of girl, you know?”

The word bounces around in your mind. Boring.

“I can be both,” you huff. “You’re only saying this because I actually do work at a coffee shop.”

“Whatever,” Jeongyeon shrugs. “Come with me tonight then?”

You scrunch up your face. “Tonight? I work tonight,” you tell her with a frown.

“Get Hyunwoo to cover your shift then, I’m sure he’ll do it,” she suggests. You sigh, pulling out your phone to text your other co-worker.

“Okay, but if he says no it isn’t my fault.”

“Ya-da, ya-da, ya-da,” Jeongyeon mutters, waving her hand at you with a sly grin. “So I’ll see you tonight?” he asks with an eyebrow raised.

“If Hyunwoo is willing to give up his Saturday evening, I guess so.”

“Ugh, he better agree. Tell him if he does it, I’ll set him up on a date with Nayeon.”

You roll your eyes with a small giggle. “You need to stop using her to get what you want—she’s going to stop being your friend if you keep setting her up on dates so people can do you favors.”

“If that ends up happening…” Jeongyeon’s voice trails off as she glances at you. “…well that’s what you’re here for!”

It’s how you end up putting on some cute pants and black crop top that you’ve been saving for a night just like. Jeongyeon and you are ubering the way to whoever’s house this party is at, and you’re pretty sure neither of you have a good idea of how you’re supposed to get home, but that’s a problem for another time.

When you arrive, the house is already packed, but the two of you don’t have too much trouble slipping through the open door and into the crowd of people that fill each room. You haven’t been to a party in a while, and the loud music along with the rush you naturally feel when you're around so many people starts to return to you.

You see many faces—mostly ones you recognize, but the names fall flat on your tongue. Like you said, it’s been a while since you’ve come to a party.

When you make your way to the kitchen, you’re greeted by a kind, familiar voice. Smiling at Joshua as he calls out your name, you give him a sideways hug before you make your way to the counter with all the drinks. “Fancy seeing you here,” he teases, and you push him lightly. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“Jeongyeon invited me last minute…I had to get Hyunwoo to take my shift,” you explain.

“Ah, that makes sense,” and there’s a funny look on his face when he says it.

“What’s with that face?”

“Nothing! It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“You know Hyunwoo likes you, right?” Joshua says casually, pouring you a cup of punch. Usually, you don’t trust what other people hand to you, but Joshua is a safe exception.

“What?” you ask, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets. “You’re lying. Did he tell you that?”

“Not directly…but it’s obvious. Seriously, who gives up their Saturday evening unless they’re making major bank or they have a crush.”

“Whatever. He’s a sophomore,” you murmur, taking a sip of the drink. It’s so sweet it almost masks the taste of alcohol. “Plus, he’s not my type. And I’m not interested in dating. I have too much going on,” you list.

“Please,” Joshua scoffs. “Your thesis and being a barista is not too much.”

“Shut up! I’m here, at a party, aren’t I?”

“Will you come to the next one?”

“That depends.”

“On?” he asks hopefully.

“Hm,” you hum, tapping a finger on your chin. “When, where, who, why, how.”

“Ugh, you’re seriously annoying about this. Just show up when I call you next, okay?”

“No promises. This night better be good if you want me to live up to that.”

“Well I’m not throwing this party so I can’t control that.”

You grin. “Too bad.” You’re having fun, you realize, even if it’s with the comfort of Joshua. You’re glad Jeongyeon brought you here. Joshua glances around for a moment and then back at you, opening his mouth to speak. “Don’t worry about me,” you tell him before he can say anything, “I can take care of myself.”

“I know, I just—” he stops himself. You know where this is going, and Joshua knows he doesn’t really need to say it. Cheol is here.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, patting his shoulder firmly, and in this moment you aren’t lying. Not to yourself, not to Joshua. It is okay. You are okay.

He watches you for a moment and then nods, ruffling your hair for a moment before waving goodbye to head off in some other room. You spend the next few minutes tossing your now empty cup to the side, heading off to some other room to find Jeongyeon. She’s dancing with some friends and the moment her eyes lay on you, she notices the deep flush to your face.

Calling you over, you dance with Jeongyeon, music blaring in your ear as you’re pressed up against her and other girls you’re sure you knew the names of at some point in your life. It’s exhilarating for a moment, but then suddenly, after around fifteen minutes, it isn’t.

“I’m going to head out for a breather,” you tell Jeongyeon loudly over the music, and she doesn’t seem to hear your words but with the way you’re pointing at the back door, she figures out what you’re saying. Nodding with a thumbs up, she smiles before turning back to dance along with her friends as you slip out of the huddle of people.

You notice a familiar face from the corner of your vision, but you feel too hot and the air is too stuffy for you to bear another second longer, escaping to the backyard.

It’s quiet outside. The night air is cool, and you now realize why no one is out in the pool like they usually are. Looking down at your feet, you contemplate your next actions for a moment before rolling up the hem of your pants until your knees and sitting by the edge of the pool, dipping in your legs.

You hiss at the cool feeling for a moment, but quickly adjust—you’ve been feeling too hot all evening and this is exactly what you need to take a moment to calm down. Alcohol has never quite been your best friend, the liquid always sending a flush of heat through your whole body.

The water soothes you, and you feel at peace for a moment. Then there’s the sound of the door sliding open and a familiar patter of footsteps thuds against the concrete.

“Isn’t the water cold?” Jeonghan says casually, standing next to you.

You shrug. “I needed to cool down.”

“Hm, fair,” he murmurs, sitting down himself and crossing his legs on the concrete edge of the pool. “It’s been a minute.”

“Has it?” you reply quietly. Yeah. It’s only been six months. You don’t let Jeonghan know that you’ve been counting.

“You don’t stop by to drop off the old pastries anymore,” he says. “Mingyu tries to make croissants now, but it’s the one thing he isn’t great at baking.”

You aren’t sure if it’s the alcohol speaking but you’re blunt when you respond, “That sucks.” Jeonghan laughs quietly, nodding. He isn’t used to you being like this —when Cheol said you were different, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t really this.

“How’s school? You working on your thesis and shit?”

You shrug. “I guess. Busy times.”

“You’re being awfully cold,” Jeonghan says with a tick of his tongue. “D’you not have any drinks—you’re always more fun when you’re drunk.”

“Thanks,” you mutter with furrowed eyebrows. Yejin used to tell you that.

“Sorry, that was rude,” Jeonghan says quickly when he notices how you still. “I didn’t mean it like that—I mean, I guess everyone is more fun when they’re drunk.” You chuckle a little at that and he lets out a sigh of relief at the fact that he’s able to get you to loosen up, even just a little. There’s an awkward silence that settles over the two of you as he watches you as you kick your feet in the water. Jeonghan thinks he might take his chances.“He misses you.”

You feel tears well up in your eyes, and you really hope Jeonghan doesn’t notice. You hate how you know who he’s talking about right away, not needing to say the name. “Jeonghan,” you say, and you know that your wobbly voice gives it all away, “Do you really think that’s fair?”

He says your name, and you turn away.

“Do you think that’s fair to me?” Jeonghan doesn’t say anything, so you continue. “He misses me? What about me? What about how I feel? Has Cheol thought about that? Has he?”

“I’m not trying to say it’s fair, I’m just telling you how he’s feeling—”

“Okay? There isn’t much for me to do about it,” you reply quickly. “Cheol and Yejin—” you let out a humorless laugh, “—it isn’t fair. Life isn’t fair. I was able to deal with it. I’m sure Cheol can too.”

“He’s really upset with himself for it,” Jeonghan tries to reason. “Even when he was with Yejin. They’d have arguments about it.”

“Okay? It’s not like I asked him to do that. It’s not like he was my friend to tell me about it.”

“Well if you would just listen—”

“No, you listen,” you say firmly, scrunching up your eyebrows. “Did you know what Yejin said to me the last time we spoke?” Jeonghan shakes his head. “She told me I was boring,” you spit out, and you realize that it’s the first time you’ve ever actually recounted that night to anyone but yourself. “And that she wasn’t even mad that I liked Cheol, but that she hated how I let her have him.” You pause to wipe away some tears. “And she was right. I didn’t put myself first. I could have told Cheol first, could’ve worked things out before she found out, could’ve done something for him, but I didn’t, and I’m not going to make that same mistake again so right now I am going to put myself first.”

Jeonghan is frowning now at the intake of all this information. It’s his first time hearing your side of the story, and he can’t help but get confused with the different timeline’s he’s got going on inside of his head. “Is this really putting yourself first?” he finally asks, and you glare at him.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying. He was your best friend for a whole decade. Maybe having him back in your life will do more good than you think.”

You scoff. “You mean do Cheol more good to his life. Don’t look at me like that—what do you know about me that makes you so sure of this?”

“Cheol knows you, you know him, and as far as I know, you could use a friend or two.”

“Thanks for calling me friendless,” you say dryly. “But in case you haven’t noticed, I’m fine. I am over it, and I don’t mind having two less friends. And either way, Cheol couldn’t have been that good of a friend if he was willing to just let go of me like that after all those years.” Jeonghan stays silent. “I don’t need more drama in my life anyways,” you conclude, pulling your feet out of the water and standing up.

“You’re not going to give him a second chance?”

You don’t answer as you walk away.

Choi Seungcheol isn’t drunk, for once in his life. Okay that is an exaggeration, but it’s the first time in a few months that he isn’t stumbling over himself at a party. It’s the first time in a long while that he hasn’t even had a sip of alcohol at this outing, and honestly, he’s quite proud of himself.

He knows why that is, and he isn’t afraid to admit it. When Joshua walks past him and gives him a funny look, Cheol knows what’s up. “No drinks?” Joshua asks, quirking up a brow.

“Joshua,” he murmurs, and he’s surprised his friend can even hear him over the music. “Jeonghan is talking to her.”

Joshua purses his lips. “Yeah, I know.”

Choi Seungcheol is quiet at a party, for the first time in…well pretty much ever. He isn’t under the influence, but it feels like everything is racing through his mind at a hundred miles per hour. Leaning against the wall, Joshua softens his gaze.

“Loosen up,” he says, and then thinks again. “And please don’t do anything stupid.”

“I’m not drunk,” Cheol scoffs, standing up straight as he glances out the back door, watching you kick the pool water. He remembers his birthday party over a year ago—the pool, you, Yejin, fun. Cheol walks away, not sure where he’s heading and Joshua, using his better judgment, doesn’t follow.

Choi Seungcheol isn’t drunk, but he might as well be out of his damn mind.

Tonight is not your night.

Your head is pounding. You fucking hate it. You don’t like getting drunk, at least not like this. Not in the way that you’re seeing two of everything. Not in the way that your body feels like it’s on fire, sweat soaking your sheen black shirt. Not in the way that you’re thinking about everything you shouldn’t.

After your conversation with Jeonghan, you realize you don’t have an answer. Pandora’s box is too tempting, and all your better judgment tells you to leave this door closed. To bury it up, throw it into the ocean, burn it—anything to keep it away from you, but the alcohol that courses through your veins brings the memories flooding back.

Now, you aren’t sure if your head hurts from thinking about Cheol, or from the alcohol, or both.

It’s too much.

You lean against one of the steps as you sit on the stairs, clutching a bottle of water close to your chest. Jeongyeon is…she’s fuck knows where. You lost track of her hours ago—after you came back in from the backyard, you got lost in conversations with people you haven’t caught up with in ages, and one thing led to the next and now you’re on nth drink.

You feel dizzy and the cup in your hand without the water bottle slips past your fingers and before you can act quick enough, the cup is tumbling down the two steps in front of you and spilling all over the floor. Granted, it isn’t the only mess made in this house tonight, and by the looks of it, it won’t be the last, but you still feel bad, quickly scrambling up to pick up your cup and find some tissues.

As you lean forward and stumble over the steps a little, you realize your center of gravity is off and you’re about to fall forward, quickly holding out your hands to brace your fall. As you land on the ground with a thud, your mind spins—everything spins, you feel too warm, and then you feel your drink stain your pants in the spot you fell onto and—fuck, this really is too much for you.

Maybe you should’ve just accepted what Jeongyeon said. Maybe—fuck, who are you kidding—parties definitely don’t suit you. You’d be a fool to deny that now, especially when you’re aching to just leave already, even though you never made any plans of getting home.

That problem that you saved to deal with “at a later time” is becoming a problem you need to deal with now and you race through your options, all while seated on the floor, forgetting about how you need to clean up this mess.

It’s when your head starts to hurt and you scrunch up your face in hopes to soothe your headache when you hear his voice. A warm hand wrapped around your wrist and then it’s pulling you up and onto your wobbly legs. “Let’s get you out of here,” Cheol mumbles, and without weighing the consequences of your actions, you nod along.

You don’t care anymore. You need to leave, and if Cheol is the path to getting out, you won’t mind.

When his arms lead you out the front door and into the night, you feel cold. Extremely cold. Maybe it’s because your body is so warm, maybe it’s because the wet alcohol on your pants is sending shivers up your spine—maybe it’s that you’re starting to slowly realize who you’re with.

Standing on the grass, you aren’t sure what to do now. What should you do? What does Cheol want you to do—you stop yourself. It shouldn’t matter what he wants you to do, you remind yourself, so why do you find your gaze lazily making its way over to his face?

Fuck ignorance and its bliss. Right now, you want to know what Cheol is thinking. He’s looking down at you, and suddenly you feel small. His face isn’t demeaning, it’s not angry, he’s not upset, but you just feel so pathetic.

And god, do you hate that word. It echoes in your head. Your dirtied pants, flushed and puffy cheeks, disheveled hair, all as you struggle to stand up—pathetic. You turn away from him, not being able to watch him watch you any longer.

“Let me drive you home,” he says finally over the thick air.

“You’re drunk,” you protest mindlessly—you don’t have a clue if that’s true at all, but knowing Cheol, it probably is.

“I haven’t had anything all night.” Nevermind, you tell yourself, maybe you don’t know him at all. Can six months really change a person that much?

Cheol is thinking the same thing about you. Your eyes are glossy and you look so out of it and he can’t even remember the last time he saw you like this—the only memories he has are when you first got drunk with him and Yejin in high school. The memory shoots an arrow at his heart, but he brushes off the feeling, focusing on you right now.

“Trust me,” he says. You blink a few times, staring at the ground, then at the sky, and then at Cheol. “Trust me,” he repeats, and now you remember just how well you know him. Cheol isn’t asking right now, no, he’s begging. You think as deeply as your wasted mind will let you.

Do you trust Cheol? No.

Cheol hurt you. Yejin hurt you.

Is this about Yejin? No.

Do you trust Cheol? No.

What is this about? I don’t know.

Do you trust Cheol? I don’t know.

Can you trust Cheol? …

He places a hand on your shoulder and the touch is firm.

Can you trust Cheol? Of course you can.

His eyes are soft as you look up at him.

Do you trust Cheol? Absolutely.

Optimism would say that you left the door unlocked. Joshua would disagree and say that you weren’t going to be inside even if the door was wide open. Jeonghan, surprisingly, doesn’t agree with Joshua—your words were harsh, but the water streaming down your cheeks told him that there was more going on in your head than you let on.

Seungcheol tends to only listen to what he wants to hear, at least that’s what all his friends have noticed. They saw it with Yejin—ignoring all the red flags, late nights of arguing until Cheol would murmur, “it’s fine, let’s just go to sleep.” Reality wasn’t the easiest for him to face, and now it’s more apparent than ever.

“He’s too optimistic about her,” Joshua sighs, throwing himself onto his friend’s couch the morning after. He slept over at his friends’ place, and they follow carefully behind him now.

“He still has hope?” Mingyu asks incredulously, sitting on an armchair.

“Too much of it,” Joshua replies, sitting up straight so that there’s room for Jeonghan on the couch.

“She’s still nice to me,” Mingyu says thoughtfully. “Maybe she doesn’t hate him.”

“Well that doesn’t mean anything,” Jeonghan says. “She’s still close friends with Joshua, so I don’t think she’s going to let that whole situation get in the way of her own friendships.”

Joshua nods in agreement, adding, “That, and I never said she hated Cheol.”

Mingyu furrows his eyebrows. “She doesn’t?”

“I don’t think she ever did,” Joshua says honestly, leaning back into the cushions as he stretches his arms.

“Really? I would’ve,” Mingyu admits and Jeonghan rolls his eyes.

“We know that you would,” he teases, causing the taller boy to pout but keep his mouth shut. “Anyways, I think Cheol is going to keep trying.”

“I know he will,” Joshua mutters, running a hand over his face. “He’s going to go in circles after her.”

“She’s not gonna give in?” Mingyu asks, and Joshua shakes his head, but Jeonghan puts his hand up in protest.

“I think she might eventually come ‘round to a stop,” he says, and Joshua shoots him a look of surprise. “I dunno, I know you and her are close, but I just have a feeling. We’ll have to see.”

“Don’t let Cheol hear that. He’ll take it as a sign to never stop,” Joshua warns.

Seungcheol doesn’t hear this conversation now or ever, but he never had plans of stopping in the first place. He was always more optimistic than you—than anyone you knew, really—and anyone who knows him should know better than to underestimate the extent of his determination.

Jeonghan and Joshua are making that mistake right now, and even though Cheol will never know what they said, he is determined to prove them wrong, for the sake of his own sanity.

Jeongyeon picks up the phone after the first ring. “I am so sorry,” she babbles into the line. “I—fuck—we should’ve figured out a ride—I mean I should’ve figured out a ride since I basically forced you to come and I knew I would be drinking and—god, I am so sorry.”

Your head rings at the way her voice blares through the phone, and you sit up and against your headboard. You woke up only moments ago, greeted by a million texts from Jeongyeon, not bothering to soothe your hangover headache before calling her back—she must have been worried, you told yourself.

“It’s okay,” you mumble, reaching over to grab some water from your bedside table. “I got a safe ride home.”

“Yeah, Joshua told me…but still, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you to find a ride on your own.” “Don’t apologize Jeongyeon, I left you without a ride too so stop apologizing or else you’ll start to make me feel bad.”

You can hear her huff on the other end, and you smile. “Okay fine, but seriously. I’ll cover one of your shifts or something soon because I feel bad for even taking you. You looked miserable.”

“That was only because Jeonghan came up to me,” you tell her honestly.

“Jeonghan? Like Seungcheol’s friend?” she says, and you can tell from her voice that she’s hesitating to even say his name.

“Yes,” you sigh softly. Jeongyeon wants to know more, you can feel it, but you aren’t in the mood to bring it up, at least not with her. “It’s whatever. I’ll see you Wednesday?”

She pauses for a moment, seemingly trying to comprehend your quick switch of topics. “Uh, sure. Text me if you need anything, okay?”

“Mhm,” you hum, pulling back your phone as you click to hang up. Letting your head fall back onto your pillow, you inhale deeply. You remember the night before too vividly—even if you were drunk, there was too much happening for you to forget.

You know you can’t forget, so you decide to do just what you’ve been doing for the past half year: ignore. It’s what you’re best at, after all. Yet as your day goes on, your mind begins to trail off. You think, and you think, and you think until you aren’t sure what was real and what was not from last night.

You start to realize that you aren’t as good at ignoring as you like to think.

“You think too much,” Hyunwoo jokes, watching you stare at the shot of espresso in front of you. You’d made it for yourself as an attempt to feel more energized after your lecture, but you find yourself zoning out as the small cup sits on the counter, waiting for you to gulp it down.

“Uh, sorry,” you murmur, shaking your head a little. “This shift is light and we haven’t had any customers in a few minutes so I just…”

“It’s fine,” Hyunwoo replies with a smile, and you purse your lips. Ever since Joshua told you that Hyunwoo likes you, you’ve been warning yourself to tread lightly. Not that he isn’t a good guy—Hyunwoo is great—he’s just not your type.

What is your type? The thought is swept out of your mind before you even come up with an answer, swooping up the shot of espresso and holding it up to your lips.

It’s been three days since the party, and you haven’t talked to Joshua in a minute, so your mind is slightly frazzled. Hyunwoo is nice, but you miss the comfort of your close friend, and maybe you’re just a little curious to see if he has anything to say about Cheol driving you home that night.

You’re sure he does—you can already predict his words: “you told yourself you wouldn’t talk to him.” Joshua might be harsh with his words, but you feel with the way you’ve been losing your damn mind recently, you need someone like him to bring you back to reality.

Maybe that’s what went wrong with you, with Cheol, with Yejin—with the three of you. You and Cheol were too lost in fantasies, Yejin always holding you two down. She was right—Cheol wouldn’t like you. Two people who didn’t know a reality other than their imaginations couldn’t work out.

Cheol needed someone to ground himself, you needed someone to ground yourself, and at the end of the day, Yejin chose to help him. You still think about what you would have done if you were in her situation, and after months, you can’t come up with an answer.

You remember the events leading up to her decision like it’s as clear as day, and no matter how many times you replay that moment, you don’t know what to think, except that you’re angry, you’re sad—they left you.

“I heard you and Joshua,” Yejin tells you quietly, and you feel your heart stop. “You like Seungcheol?” and the way she uses his full name makes you feel almost ashamed for confirming it with a nod.

“I—” you pause, “—I didn’t know you liked him.”

“I love him,” she corrects you.

“Oh,” is all you manage out.

“You’re pathetic.”

That was the start of it. Yejin sent Chaeyoung over the next day to pick up her stuff from your apartment. You didn’t hear another word from Cheol. The last thing you remember him saying to you was from that night is still a jumble in your head.

You hate crying, and everyone knows it. So when you sprint out of the room minutes after Yejin, eyes red and puffy, Cheol knows something is wrong. Before he can walk up to you, there’s a hand on his shoulder and Yejin has her head pushed up next to his ear.

You don’t know what she tells him, but his gaze falters. The last thing you hear him say is your name quietly as you rush away.

That night, Joshua drives you home while you think about how you’re going to tell your mother that Cheol and Yejin won’t be coming to your house for spring break.

That was six months ago. Of course, six months pales in comparison to the decade you spent as friends. The years from middle school, to high school, to college—you three side by side. Things changed so quickly, too quickly.

Sometimes you think about what she might’ve told him—what she could’ve said that made him turn away at every gathering you were both at after that. That made him erase the years you shared before all this. That made you all strangers.

You figure things like this will never make sense to you. You don’t understand now, and you probably never will—you are content with that.

At least, up until three days ago you were. Some small voice in your head is reminding you of the confusion, the hurt, the heartbreak you felt when it all happened. Now, you’re more desperate than ever to know what exactly happened, it’s just a matter of if you’re willing to go down this rabbit hole of reconnection.

It’s like the universe hears you and laughs. The ringing of the door fills the little cafe and you’re pushing yourself off the counter, nodding and Hyunwoo. “I got it,” you tell him, dropping your cup in the sink and walking over to the register.

Of course it’s Cheol standing in front of you. You can’t tell if he found out your schedule from Joshua (but no, Joshua wouldn’t do that to you) or if it’s just something like fate. Fate.

You sigh, preparing yourself for yet another onslaught of thoughts. “What can I get you?”

There’s something mischievous glinting in his eyes. “Don’t you remember my usual?” Cheol attempts, and you’re surprised by his forwardness. Don’t be shocked, you think. Cheol never backs down, never stops trying.

Do you give in? Just this once? He did help you out that night—you aren’t sure if you’d be able to get home in one piece if it weren’t for him. Then again, it could’ve just been one of Cheol’s kind favors, something that isn’t reserved for only you, but just any drunk girl in general. You don’t want to mistake his qualities of a gentleman with him holding out a figurative olive branch.

Trust me, his words are like a broken record in your mind.

You’re thinking too much. Fuck, if he didn’t hold out the olive branch that night, you’re going to try to now.

“Iced latte with hazelnut syrup,” you say quietly, tapping it into the tablet. You’re scared to look up because you know he's grinning. You shouldn’t want to be the reason behind his smiles, but you do.

“Thanks,” he chirps, holding out his card so you can turn around the tablet for him.

“Your order will come out on your left,” you tell him, not looking up. You expect things to stop now, for things to quietly go back to normal.

“Hey, when do you get off?”

You do a double take to make sure you heard him correctly. “Sorry?” You finally look up at him and god, you start to remember why you loved his smile so much.

“I asked when you get off from your shift? Six?”

“I—uh, yeah,” you reply without thinking. “How’d you know?”

“That’s when Joshua gets off on Fridays. Just a guess,” he shrugs. You purse your lips and don’t respond, not sure where to take things from here; yeah you held out the branch but you didn’t expect him to grab it just this quickly. “Can I stay until then?”

You should say no. You really should say no. But then you’re thrown back to three days ago and the words are sounding an awful lot like trust me, trust me, and then you realize you just can’t deny him.

“Okay,” you say softly. You can tell from the look of relief on Cheol’s face that he wasn’t expecting this, and you aren’t sure what to take from that. As you turn to make his drink, you glance at the clock. Thirty seven minutes before your shift ends, and you can’t figure out if you’re going to try and make the time before them fly or go slow.

Handing Cheol his drink, you don’t say anything, your movements swift as you try and unbox your own feelings. Of course, you aren’t given the liberty to do that, not when Hyunwoo is standing in front of you.

“Is that Seungcheol?”

“Take a wild guess,” you mutter, closing your eyes tightly for a moment. Maybe if you think hard enough you’ll realize it’s just a dream where your actions have no real consequences.

“I thought you two didn’t talk.”

“Did Joshua tell you that?”

“Kind of…maybe…I sorta figured it out on my own,” Hyunwoo admits. “Sorry, that sounds weird.” You sigh softly, feeling bad for how flustered Hyunwoo is.

“It’s okay…let’s just get back to work,” you suggest, turning away to clean up some of the counters with your extra time.

You don’t notice it, but Cheol watches the conversation between you and Hyunwoo unfold, and while he can’t hear what you two are saying, he has a feeling he won’t like it. He has to remind himself to not have high expectations, to not get his hopes up, just like Jeonghan and Joshua warn, but he just can’t help it.

But when you agree to see him after your shift (he knows you didn’t technically agree to that, but he knows you and is sure that you caught onto his underlying message), he just has to stay hopeful. So as he patiently waits for the clock to strike six, he thinks about what to say.

To be honest, this all happened on a whim. Again, he didn’t really know that you were working today, he just happened to get lucky. Cheol himself isn’t sure what exactly he wants to say to you, he just knows it is a lot.

He thinks about you a lot. The good, the bad, all the in between—Seungcheol misses you. And he knows that it isn’t fair, that he shouldn’t do this, that he doesn’t have the right—Joshua has made that clear to him on numerous occasions.

“She’s fine without you.”

“But—”

“You don’t have a say about being in her life.”

“And you do?” Cheol shoots out.

Joshua steps back. “I don’t either, but I know how she’s doing better than you. I know how she felt after everything happened.”

Cheol pauses. That, Joshua did. Cheol didn’t know anything, did he? “This isn’t about you, it’s about me and it’s about her.”

“There is no you and her,” Joshua says bluntly. Cheol doesn’t say anything, but he knows in his mind that he needs to change that.

Cheol lets the idea run through his mind, that he's making a royal mistake right now, and all this is going to amount to nothing. He doesn’t mull over it for longer than ten seconds. He is going to do this, and if he doesn’t, he’d be damned if he didn’t at least try.

You get off your shift while Hyunwoo continues his. “You’re going to talk to him?” he asks with knitted eyebrows, pointing at Cheol.

“Uh, yeah,” you say sheepishly in the back, untying your apron. “Don’t tell Joshua, he’ll kick my ass,” you add, only only half joking. Joshua definitely won’t let you hear the end of this, but that is another problem for another time. Hanging up your apron, you grab your backpack from the shelf and slip to the back door. “See you later!” you chirp, throwing Hyunwoo one last wave before you enter the seating area from the back to make your way to Cheol who’s sitting at an elevated stool by the window.

Your once confident strides are much smaller now, you find yourself holding back each one more and more. Do you really want this? Trust me. You’ll just have to find out. “Hey,” you say quietly, and this time you don’t let your gaze fall, tapping on Cheol’s shoulder. He turns around quickly, straw in his mouth as he drinks the half finished drink with a smile.

“Hey, you’re early,” he states casually, glancing at the time. It’s 5:57.

“I guess,” you reply, voice as still as you can manage.

“You’ve probably been here for a while,” Cheol murmurs to himself, getting up from his seat. “You want to go on a walk? The weather is nice right now.”

You want to roll your eyes and tease him, saying “it’s August, of course the weather is nice,” but you stop yourself—you aren’t sure if you’re ready for that level of comfort yet. “Sure,” you agree instead, adjusting your bag over your shoulder as you follow him out the door and onto the main street.

“How was work? Stopped working at the bakery, huh?” he says, and you just don’t get it. How is he being so casual? How is he acting like this is the first time you two have had a real conversation in months? How is he—you don’t even realize you’ve stopped walking until he calls out your name. God, you really missed how it sounded when he said your name. “What’s wrong?”

You don’t even think before responding. “What do you think is wrong?” Cheol is standing a few feet in front of you and the look on his face is confusing…you can’t read it. You aren’t sure if it’s because he’s confused, or if it’s because you just aren’t used to this, or what. Whatever it is, you don’t like it.

“I’m sorry,” Cheol says softly, stepping forward. You still don’t move. “I—uh shit, sorry—this,” he brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “this is weird, you’re right I just, I don’t know—”

“Is there something you want to say?” Your eyes bore into his, and Cheol knows he can’t keep any secrets from you.

“I’m sorry.”

You nod. “Okay.”

“Okay?” he asks hopefully.

“What do you want me to say?” you ask with a shrug. “Sorry for what?”

“A lot of things. Everything,” Cheol admits, and your eyes widen slightly at his honesty. You pretend to glance down at your watch.

“Well you’re going to have to be more specific,” you tell him truthfully, “and don’t have a lot of time.”

“I’ll come again!” he says quickly, holding his hands up as you’re about to walk towards your car. “When do you work? Tell me. I’ll come after every shift.”

“I work almost everyday.”

“I’ll come everyday,” he says with no hesitation. Your heart tightens. You a month ago would have said fuck no, but then trust me, trust me is echoing in your head again and before you can stop yourself, you’re nodding.

“Mondays and Tuesday I get off at 6, Wednesdays at 9, Thursdays at…”

You used to believe Seungcheol always lived up to his promises. When you were younger, you couldn’t think of a single time when he didn’t go by his word. You trusted him, always, so when he broke the promise of “we’ll stick together”—arguably the only one that actually mattered—you were shattered. You still are, or at least your trust is.

Right now, Cheol promises he’ll come see you after every shift. You don’t think you should trust him, but you do anyway, watching the clock to make sure he’s always here on time. You tell yourself you do it because you don’t like to be kept waiting, but you know deep down that you’re just trying to find an excuse.

You’re trying to justify your distrust, even though you already have a perfectly good reason for being tentative around Cheol. Somehow, whenever you’re with him, you forget about it all.

It’s awkward most of the time. Well, more like you’re awkward and Cheol just pretends you aren’t, acting all normal and like you aren’t stumbling over your words and blanking out mid sentence.

You’re not nervous, you just don’t know what to say, the words getting lost in your head as you wonder whether or not there’s a line and where it is and if you should cross it.

Today is the fifth day Cheol comes to see you after your shift. He comes in at 6:54 which is a bit earlier than usual, and it’s the first time that Joshua is seeing the scene unfold. As Cheol walks in, your friend throws you a careful glance before waving over at his friend and connecting fists as he hops over to take his order.

“Iced latte with—”

“I’m not here for a drink,” Cheol says quickly, putting his hand up before he can watch Joshus key in his usual order.

“Huh…did I miss something?” Joshua asks, checking his watch for any missed messages. You chew your lip and Cheol glances at you, realizing that you haven’t told Joshua that you and him are speaking again.

“Uh, no,” Cheol murmurs. He points at you and when he sees that you don’t protest, he proceeds. “We’re, uh, I’m just waiting for her shift to end and—” he stops talking when Joshua whips his head around to stare at you with a look of bewilderment.

You nod shyly, untying your apron as you make your way to the back room. Joshua follows quickly behind you, closing the door behind him while you hang up the garment. “What does he mean by that?”

“I dunno, Josh,” you say, because honestly you aren’t sure how to explain it either.

“Remember what you said?” he tells you—you know where this is headed, and you really don’t want him to bring it up. “You said you’d never forgive them.”

You did say that. “In a moment of anger,” you argue, grabbing your bag. You know he’s just being protective of you, but right now it’s getting on your nerves.

“And? You’re just going to forgive him because he drove you home when you were drunk?”

“I haven’t forgiven him!” you pause. “At least not yet.”

“You’re seriously going to forgive him after all that you said about moving on?”

“I have moved on, Joshua,” you tell him. It’s true. “There’s nothing wrong with letting him back in my life now, especially if he wants to.”

“And what if he fucks up again?”

You roll your eyes as you walk to the back door. “How’s that supposed to happen? Thought you said he and Yejin broke up?”

“They did, but that isn’t the point.”

“Then what is?” you ask exasperatedly. “I’m old enough to make my own decisions. You’re acting like I don’t know the consequences of my actions. You’re acting as if I wasn’t the one who had to go through all that, so please just let me make this decision.”

Joshua steps back and sighs, and by the way he doesn’t say anything as you open the door, you assume he has accepted defeat.

Cheol meets you on the other side of the door, wearing his usual smile. You can only pray that he didn’t hear your conversation with Joshua. “Hey,” he greets and you nod in response. Well if he heard anything, he pretends he doesn’t. The truth is, Cheol hears every word, he’s just very good at putting a smile on his face.

You two walk out of the store silently and side by side. “How was work?” Cheol asks.

“Good. It’s most fun with Joshua,” you reply, walking on the sidewalk like you two usually do. You follow a trail down the street and through some parks for kids, always making a round trip back to your cafe where your car is parked.

The days have been getting shorter, and it’s evident by the way the sky is painted a deep orange right now. “Didn’t sound like he’s too happy today,” Cheol comments, and you halt your steps for just a moment, realizing he did hear you two.

“Uh, yeah,” you mumble. You two haven’t talked about that since you started speaking again. All the things Cheol said he wanted to apologize for were left suspended in the air, waiting for one of you to pluck it out and face reality. Neither of you were ever really good at that. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.” 

“I’m sorry you had to say that,” Cheol responds almost instantly, standing in the middle of the sidewalk and turning to face you.

Your eyebrows furrow when you respond, “What?”

“I mean, shit, I worded that badly,” he groans, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “I’m sorry that…you know—you said you’d never forgive me and I’m sorry. And I know you probably shouldn’t forgive me but I’m sorry.”

You certainly weren’t expecting that, but then again, you need to remind yourself to never be surprised when it comes to Cheol. You bite back the words, “it’s okay,” because you aren’t ready to say that, so instead you just nod. “Okay.” Your eyes glaze around your surroundings and they fall on a bench. Pointing at it, you say, “Let’s sit, yeah?”

You two sit side by side on the bench, and you think that this is the closest either of you have been in a long time, your thighs almost brushing against each other’s. The sky darkens above you, and you usually would take this as your cue to go back to your car, but tonight, you stay.

There’s a question that’s prodding at the back of your mind, and you chide yourself for even thinking about it. Don’t ask him, don’t do it, and you almost listen. Almost. You figure that the fact that you’re even here with Cheol right now is a sign that things are changing more than they already have, that you’re changing in ways that you didn’t know you could, and Cheol is changing, and he’s changing for you.

Cheol senses it too, that you’re thinking deeply, and he waits. When you’re finally lifting your head and looking up at the sky, he turns to you as you open your mouth. “How did you guys break up?” You can’t bring yourself to say “you and Yejin.” It’s too painful of a reminder that there was once a Cheol and Yejin, and that it came at the expense of you and Cheol and Yejin.

He takes a deep breath and hesitates, but you don’t retract your question. You feel after everything, you deserve to know, no matter how aching the memory is. “She cheated on me.”

“Oh.”

Cheol’s voice is flat for the first time since you’ve started speaking again. “Yeah,” he mutters. You purse your lips together, unsure of what to do, what to say. There was a time that you felt you knew all the right words, all the right things to do, but now you’re lost. Maybe it’s because Cheol has changed, but then—no, it’s not him, it’s you. You’ve changed. You thought you didn’t care, and that was true.

You didn’t care about what happened to Cheol or Yejin or them because they had left you and there was nothing after that. You didn’t care because caring wouldn’t help you get either of them back, and you didn’t care because caring only made long nights of you crying in your bed even longer.

But did you ever stop caring about Cheol? About Yejin? There’s a fine line, you realize, between caring about your relationship with someone and caring about them, and it hits you that not once did you not care about Cheol.

What would you have done if this had happened six months ago? What would you have said? You were never the best at words, but when it came to Cheol and Yejin, you always found some way to make them feel better. Looking over at Cheol, his head hangs low as he chews on his lip.

You reach over your hand and place it on his shoulder gently. “I’m sorry,” you tell him.

Cheol chuckles hollowly, causing you to frown deeply. “Shouldn’t I be the one saying that?”

“We have time for that later,” you reply honestly, not breaking the contact even when he shifts a little, finally looking up at you.

“Later?” he asks hopefully. You smile and nod. This is a promise, you both know. Joshua is going to kill you for this later.

“He got fired?” you snort. “Didn’t he say he could get away with anything?”

“Yeah,” Cheol chuckles. “And to be fair, he did get away with a lot. Honestly, I’m surprised he didn’t get fired months ago. He would give me and Soonyoung discounts all the time, it was crazy.”

“I remember that…” you say quietly.

“Yeah, anyways, he got fired and now he’s complaining about not having extra cash. Minghao’s telling him to just find another job but Hannie is convinced that he’ll be able to convince his boss to hire him back…”

“Knowing Jeonghan, he might just be able to pull that off.”

“Who knows,” Cheol murmurs with a shrug. “It’s late. Do you want to go?”

“Want me gone already?” you tease. Things are more comfortable now. It isn’t the same as before—how could it—but it’s getting there. You aren’t sure you’ll ever be “back to the old days,” but you sure are trying to get as close as you can.

“You know that isn’t true,” he shoots back. You trust him, and if that’s a mistake, you hardly care. Maybe this is where you start to crumble. “I’m just trying to make sure that it’s not too late when you get home.”

He’s being caring, although it isn’t unexpected. Cheol was always caring. “You’re right,” you murmur, not wanting to admit that you might have wanted to sit here and talk to him a bit longer. You stand up, grabbing your back and he follows after you as you walk up the street in the direction of the shop. You return back to the conversation of Jeonghan and his antics both in and out of the workplace, and before you know it, you’re back at the parking lot.

You’ve grown to look forward to these meetings—how could you not—and it does kill a little bit of self control inside of you every time you realize that fact.

“You gonna go now?” he asks softly, and as you stop walking, you let the tension grow thick. This part is always awkward. You don’t know if it’s fitting to say “bye” or “goodbye” or “see you later” or hug him or wave or—you usually settle for a smile but there’s a growing ache in your heart which tells you that maybe you want more.

Cheol seems to think the same, and it all happens so quickly, too quickly, and suddenly you’re going dizzy and your world is spinning.

Choi Seungcheol’s lips are soft.

And they don’t press against yours for more than a second before you place your hands on his chest and push him back. You almost indulge. Almost.

“Why would you do that?” you whisper, not meeting his gaze. Cheol runs a hand through his hair, steeping back with wide eyes.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck, I am so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking—shit, shit, shit—I’m sorry, I’m so sor—”

You ball your fists and your face contorts into some ugly sort of grimace. “Stop saying that!” you cry out, and Cheol stills. “Stop fucking saying you’re sorry! I-I-I hate it!”

“What?” and the hurt is more than evident in his voice.

“I know you’re sorry, okay? I get it,” you tell him exasperatedly. “And you keep saying it—you’re sorry for everything, you’re sorry for all of it. It’s all you say, but maybe if you just stopped and thought for a second you’d realize that no matter how much you keep saying it, I have not once said it’s okay.”

He gapes at you for a moment but recovers quickly, running a hand through his hair. “I—” he pauses, “I don’t know how else to tell you. It’s been a few weeks and—”

“You didn’t speak to me for six months,” you spit out, and you wonder if this is what it’s all going to come down to. The past month of you figuring out your emotions, working out what you want, what’s good for you, what’s not—you’re afraid that right now it will all amount to nothing.

Maybe you two were in your heads too long. Maybe this was your harsh pull back down to the ground.

“Six months, Seungcheol,” you repeat, and he winces when you use his full name.

“I know, I’m s—”

“You’re sorry, I know,” you say quieter this time, slumping against the wall. His lips were so warm, so soft, you still feel their ghost on your lips. You calm down for a second at the thought, but then your anger bubbles up when you remind yourself that Yejin got to taste him too. Got to have him, love him, cherish him for those six months. Jealousy doesn’t suit you, but that isn’t what this is about anyways. Right now, all it does is fuel your heat.

“I just—I don’t know how to really say it,” Cheol admits.

“Well you should figure that out,” you tell him harshly. “I can’t stand here forever, waiting for you to find the right words.”

“You’re right, I know.”

“Do you?” you ask, exhausted. It’s all catching up to you know—you’re tired, so tired.

“I do.”

Do you trust Cheol?

“I don’t believe you,” your voice quivers when you say it, and Cheol feels his heart break at the sound. “I can’t.”

“I know—that’s my fault, I know.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“I’m trying.” You know he is, there isn’t a doubt in your mind. Inhaling deeply, you choose your words carefully.

“We need to talk about everything,” you tell him slowly.

“Okay,” Cheol agrees quickly. “Okay, where do you want to start?”

“Where do you think we should start? I think that’s where we should start.”

Cheol sucks in a breath and pinches his eyebrows together. You can tell that he, just like you, is making sure he doesn’t say anything he’ll regret. “Well, the beginning, I guess,” he sighs, and you open your mouth in protest but he holds his hand out to stop you. “Okay just listen.” “Fine.”

“I found out Yejin liked me in January,” he tells you.

“That was a month before…” your voice trails off and he nods.

“Before we got together and…” And we stopped talking to you. He doesn’t say, doesn’t need to. “Yeah. Chaeyoung told me. Yejin didn’t know I knew until…”

“Until you started liking her,” you mutter under your breath. You furrow your eyebrows and look up at him. “You know I know this, right? Joshua told me when you told him.”

Cheol seems surprised by that. “What, really?” you aren’t sure why he never expected that—you and Joshua are pretty much like siblings, after all.

“Yeah. I think I knew before Yejin,” you admit. Your voice is small, and the way the entire event of six months ago is playing out in your head is a not so nice reminder of why you’re in this situation in the first place.

“Oh.” Silence. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You frown. “What was I supposed to say? ‘No Cheol! Don’t like Yejin! Like me!’” you say in a mocking tone. “Why would I do that to her? Why would I do that to you?” you were calm a moment ago, but you feel yourself growing upset again.

“I thought you—” Cheol thinks for a moment, wondering if he should say it, “—I thought you liked me.”

“I did,” you seethe out. “But did you think I was going to beg you to change your mind? To change your feelings?” Cheol is quiet now, and you take it as your cue to continue. “I…I cared about you and Yejin so much—” that’s a lie (you still do)—“and you should know that if you guys were happy I would be okay with that.”

“What about your feelings? Why didn’t you do anything about that?” Cheol shoots back, and it’s starting to sound an awful lot like your last conversation with Yejin.

“You claim you love him but you’re just willing to give him up like that? That’s pathetic. You are pathetic.”

You feel tears stream down your cheeks at the memory and you need to remind yourself that it isn’t worth crying over—but then again, it is. “I would’ve dealt with my feelings just as I have been for the past six months—by myself and totally fine.”

Cheol doesn’t have a response to that, because if there’s one thing he won’t even attempt to refute, it’s this. Because after everything, you have been okay. You have been healing. It killed him every time Joshua would tell him you’re doing fine, because he wasn’t doing fine and he was having a really, really hard time accepting that.

He knows it’s unfair, Cheol knows he’s being anything but fair, but he just doesn’t know how to help it.

It’s the worst that you’re crying now—crying ‘cause of him. Because Cheol knows that you were okay and it was him that decided to butt back in your life to try and make amends, and you being you, decided to let him back in and fuck—he knows he’s being selfish by doing all this and he know he doesn’t deserve this yet you are still here, trying to hear him out.

“I fucked up, I don’t deserve a second chance.”

You choke back a sob, “Damn right you don’t,” and Cheol knows that you’re right.

“I’m still going to try.”

You brush some tears away from your face. “I know.”

You go home that night without another word, and Cheol only stops you to make sure you’ve stopped crying before you start the car and drive off. It’s the next day, and you can’t help but glance back and forth between the door and clock as your shift nears its end.

“You waiting for him?” Hyunwoo asks you from the side, and you feel a little bit bad at the way his voice sounds a bit sad.

“Uh—” Are you waiting for Cheol? “—I guess, yeah.” There’s no reason for you to deny it. You’ve replayed last night’s conversation more times than you can count, and you still aren’t sure how to feel. You need to see him.

As the time nears six, an uneasy feeling pools at your stomach, and you wonder what you’ll do if he doesn’t show up. End it for good? Add it to the list of reasons why you should never talk to him again? Block h—

The bell above the door ringing saves you from that rabbit hole. It’s 5:59 and Cheol waits in front of the door and for once, he isn’t donning a smile. Looking at Hyunwoo, you throw out a small wave before slipping to the back room. Hyunwoo doesn’t follow you, he stopped doing that after the first two times Seungcheol started coming, although you aren’t sure why. It’s a passing thought though, definitely not at the forefront of your mind as you hang your apron routinely and exit through the back door.

Cheol waits for you by the door and you don’t say anything as you both leave through the front. The atmosphere is thick and you aren’t sure who is going to say what and when. It’s only when you’ve walked around two minutes down your regular path that Cheol stops in front of that bench. Flickering his eyes towards yours for a moment of confirmation, he sits down and motions you to follow. You sit side by side and once again, you two are almost touching, but aren’t quite there just yet.

“So,” you finally say. “Where were we?”

“That night,” Cheol replies quietly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. You glance over at him and can’t help but realize how…small he looks. You want to reach out and hold him for a moment, but you shouldn’t.

“What about that night?” you murmur. There’s too much about that night for you to even fathom what he’s thinking about.

“What did Yejin say to you? In the room?” he asks.

“Does that matter?” You seriously don't want to recount it, but then Cheol is nodding and you just have to give in. “She was mad…same reason as you,” you mumble.

“What do you mean?”

“Didn’t like how I was accepting of it all,” you sigh, leaning back. “I think she just got sick of me,” you finally confess. “Didn’t like me anymore, and then she thought I was pathetic or something and used that as an excuse to just—I dunno, drop me.” You pause, turning to look at him again. “What did she tell you?”

You know you probably shouldn’t ask. It’ll be painful, you know, but you’re confident you can handle it.

“She said it couldn’t work…the three of us. That it was either me ‘n’ her or nothing, because nothing could go back to normal after this.”

You look down. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“You believed her?”

“Well, at the time,” Cheol murmurs, “Yeah I did.”

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry.” Trust me, trust me. “I liked that she liked me. I liked her and I thought I was going to lose you either way and—”

“I said okay.”

“Is it okay?”

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly. “I beat myself up a lot for all that, you know? Wondered what she could’ve said that made you not wanna fight to be my friend.” You scoff to yourself. “I guess we both suck at that.”

“Huh?”

“You know: fighting for what we want,” you clarify.

“That can change,” Cheol says, clearing his throat. “I’m fighting right now.”

That conversation is the first of many. One month later and Cheol is still fighting. It’s your birthday, and you aren’t surprised that he remembers, but you are surprised when he gets you a gift. A new apron. “Your old one is getting…well, old.”

You’re both sitting at the bench once again, and for the first time, your thighs brush against each other’s fully. It’s warm, it’s welcoming, it’s soft. Maybe you and Cheol haven’t finished crossing the bridge yet, but you’ve definitely finished building it. There’s time for the rest later. You want to focus on you and him now.

“I wonder why,” you say sarcastically, taking it out of the bag. “It’s cute—hey, is this my name?” you ask excitedly, holding up the little spot on the top with some letter embroidered in.

“Uh, yeah, it’s custom and all…I got Minghao to help me with the design.” You smile genuinely, turning to him.

“Thank you, I love it.”

“Thank god. Jeonghan said it was a stupid gift but I thought it was thoughtful…”

“Jeonghan once got you a rubber duck for your birthday, so I would take everything he says about gift-giving with a big fat grain of salt.”

“Hey, I still have that duck,” he tells you, and you both laugh together. “It’s in the bathroom, I only take it down for special occasions.”

“Special occasions being…?”

Cheol taps his chin. “Hmm…birthdays, the last day of school, Christmas…I’d like to think my luck is pretty great whenever I use it.”

“Is that so…” you hum. “When was the last time you used it?”

“Like two days ago.”

“Nothing special happened two days ago.” That’s a lie, and he sees right through it.

Cheol smiles smugly. “I know. It was just right before I came to see you.” Your cheeks burn as you turn away.

Two days ago being the last time you and him talked about all of it. From beginning to end, just like you had so many times before except for the first time, you were finally able to utter the words, “it’s okay, we’re okay.”

“Right…maybe luck really was on your side then,” you tease.

“Whatever,” Cheol says with a pout, watching you glance at your phone. “Do you need to go? I thought you didn’t have anything planned?”

“I don’t,” you say with a huff. “I just saw that my birthday gift from my parents got delivered. It’s fine, I’ll pick it up when I get home later.” You ponder whether this is the right moment to bring it up. “You can… come along if you want.”

It’s almost as if his ears perk up. “To your place?”

“Um, yeah,” you try to come off as casual. “Only if you want,” you add quickly, and he picks up on the double meaning right away.

Which is how you end up here.

“Haven’t been here in so long,” Cheol murmurs, looking over your apartment. It’s the exact same, save for some pictures with Yejin and him that have since been taken down. He would have been upset about it a month ago, but now he is content. It only makes it a goal for him to take more pictures with you now so you’ll have some to put up.

“Mhm,” you nod, putting your bag down on your kitchen counter.

“Hey…” he says softly as you flick on one light. It’s dim, but there’s just enough light for you to see the worried look on his face.

“Everything alright?”

He chews on his lips and he looks pretty. “I need to know where your head is at right now,” he admits. There’s a lot of different meanings to what he’s just asked, but with the way he’s looking at you, you have a pretty good idea of what he’s trying to say. “I don’t want to misread anything like the last time I—the last time.” The last time he kissed you.

You look down at the counter. You brought him here for a reason, but are you ready?

Trust me, trust me.

Of course you are. With Cheol, you’ll always be ready.

So when he’s pushing you up against the wall, hands grappling at your waist, feeling his warm, wet lips against you, you don’t waste a single second thinking about anyone else. You don’t think about what Joshua will say, you don’t think about how Jeongyeon will react, you don’t think about the look on Yejin’s face if she were to ever find out about this because right now, it’s Cheol that’s in front of you, and it’s Cheol that will always be in front of you.

One leg around his torso, your mouth smashes against his in a tangled mess of tongue and lip and it’s desperate and has you aching for more. And then he’s leading you to your bedroom and you are reminded of the fact that Cheol knows this place so well that he doesn’t even need to ask for directions.

Throwing you onto the bed your mind goes blank—it’s as if all the happiness in the world rushes to you at once, leaving you all light-headed and disoriented when Cheol clambers on top of you, his thigh wedged between your legs.

With his fingers pressed deeply into your hips as he runs his tongue along your jawline,rocking  your clothed cunt against Cheol’s bare thigh, his gym shorts hiked up so that you can press your core as close to him as possible. Your breath is slightly labored as his lips press open mouthed kisses all the way down, and you feel yourself become increasingly needy at the way you can see the imprint of his cock against his shorts.

“Shit—you’re so—wait,” he murmurs, pulling his lips away from your burning skin to bore his eyes down at you. “Is this okay?” he asks softly, pulling his knee back so there’s some space between you and him. Cheol doesn’t expect for your eyes to widen, hand shooting out and grabbing his thigh to make sure it doesn’t move another inch.

“Yes,” you gasp out, pulling his leg so hard that he stumbles forward a bit when you do, the hard muscle pressing back against your core. Cheol lets the initial shock of you being needy for him settle in, and suddenly he’s grinning and having one hand back at your waist, the other at your neck so he can tilt your head up and have better access to skin over your collarbone.

His fingers are rough and calloused as they slip beneath your shirt, pushing it up just far enough that your bra is exposed. Hovering above you, you watch through hazy vision as Cheol’s eyes dilate at the sight, swooping his head down to free one of your tits from the cup and catching a nipple in his mouth.

Your body jerks against his as he swipes a tongue over the hardened peak, and suddenly you feel that there’s too much fabric between you and his thigh. “Ch-cheol,” you mutter, tapping at his head that is currently burning beneath your shirt while he sneaks kisses all up and down your stomach, between your tits, and over your cleavage.

“What is it, baby?” he coos, pulling his head out and looking up at you, the pet name shooting shivers up our spine.

“Pants—ah—” you whine when he presses his thigh harder into you. “Pants!” you cry, trying your best to unbutton them with shaky fingers. Cheol picks up right away, helping you unzip them before hooking two fingers on the waistband and yanking the fabric down and over your feet, freeing yourself and your pussy of its unbearable restraints.

“Fuck, this is—you’re so hot,” he murmurs, looking down at your bare legs and tracing his fingers from your ankles to your knees, and then finally through your inner thighs where he bends down and starts to place rough kisses.

Usually, if he was in his right mind, Cheol would have wanted to take his sweet time with you, unraveling, unwinding all of you. But he’s figured that both of you have waited long enough and that you both deserve to be needy, to be desperate, to let this moment pass as quickly as it started because there will be plenty of time for a round two and three later on.

All you need right now is to feel each other, which is how he ends up pushing your panties to the side and digging his tongue into your dripping folds without warning. “Cheol!” you moan loudly, your hand gripping his hair tightly while he simultaneously wraps one arm over your hips, pulling you closer.

Seungcheol is going crazy, he thinks, because the taste of your pussy is better than any alcohol he’s ever drunk. You’re sweet and your cunt is literally fluttering its pretty fuck folds all for him as he slides one finger through them to collect your growing wetness. He feels himself growing high on the feeling and taste alone, his own hips pressing into the mattress in hopes of relieving some of the tension in his own pants.

There’s a slobbering mess that runs down his lips and chin as he fervently makes out with your pussy, and you briefly wonder how a man can be so good at making you feel this good before the thought is swept from your mind by one of Cheol’s thick fingers prodding at your entrance.

Holy hell, you’re so tight for him—gummy walls clamping down on his single digit the second he started to move it in and out’ta you, his mind racing as he thinks about how you might feel around his cock. And Cheol isn’t the only one thinking about it either, because when he’s slipping in another finger, you’re already crying out for more.

“I gotta work you up to it baby,” he tells you sympathetically, using one free hand to shove down his pants leaving him in only a shirt and boxers.

“Don’t wanna wait…” you protest with a pout, eyes shamelessly looking down at his figure hunched over you so you can catch sight of the imprint of his cock against his boxers.

Cheol chuckles, even though he’s on the brink of giving in himself. “Take your shirt off for me, yeah? It’ll save us some time.” That’s all you need to hear before you’re sitting up and yanking the stupidly tight shirt over your head and throwing it to the side as Cheol’s fingers continue their onslaught deep inside your cunt.

It’s less of an in and out motion now, and more of a curling motion that’s exploring you, finding out what makes you hum, what makes you moan, and what makes you go—“Oh fuck, Cheol!” He grins at the sound, leaning down to press a kiss on your clit as he pulls his slick fingers away.

“You wanted more?” he murmurs, slipping his own shirt over his head to reveal the familiar set of abs and toned chest. You let out a dazed smile at the sight, letting your body fall back onto the mattress.

“‘course I do,” you reply without hesitation, watching eagerly as his hand holds the waistband of his boxers and pushes the cloth down, revealing his cock all thick and hard as it springs out and hits his abdomen.

It’s long and it’s thick, and it’s nothing less than what you expected from Cheol, in fact, it’s a lot more than that. But you don’t even have time to think about how pretty his cock looks, pink tip all flushed as a thick vein runs down the side of its length, because it’s pushing against your entrance as he watches your face carefully.

When your eyebrows knit into a convulsion of pleasure and you squeak out his full name, he knows he can't hold back, slamming into your drooling cunt in one go.

And his cock is so big it’s pushing you open, but the pain is so good, so enthralling, that you don’t even mind being split in half if it’s like this—if it’s because every time he pulls his hips back, you know he’ll slam it deeper and deeper every single time, hitting spots deep inside of your cunt that you didn’t even know existed.

All while your limbs are flailing around him, thrashing as you bite into his shoulder, muffling your cries of, “Cheol, Cheol, Cheol!”

Your name falls from his lips too, mixed in with the mindless words of, beautiful, pretty, princess as he compliments you for takin’ him so well and squeezin’ him so good he doesn't know how he hasn’t bust already.

“God, fuck,” he moans when you look up at him through heavy lashes, tethering his boto m lip between his teeth to try and slow his impending orgasm. “Fuck,” he chokes out, “shit—I love you—”

And there is your breaking point. Like the world has come to a stop and there is only you and Cheol and this moment and—god, you really are too far gone now—and him and you is all that matters.

You cum like you never have before, his cock battering your cunt ‘til you’re shaking and crying and yelling out his name as you feel nothing but him, think nothing but him, know nothing but him.

This is the moment you’ve both been waiting for, and as soon as Cheol has noticed your slower breaths he’s pulling out and letting you wrap one hand around his fat cock to help jerk himself off. He’s so close—so fucking close—and then you’re whispering those fated words—those three words—he feels everything in him just snap, hot cum shooting all over your swollen, abused cunt, and Cheol feels his heart swell.

Love.

There’s a lot more you need to work on, you both know that, but it’s okay.

Trust me, trust me.

I love you.

a/n. literally wrote the last part half asleep and i hate the ending but... okay wow … i had a tough time writing this because i really wanted it to be taken slow and i’m not really sure how well it went … also this story might have been a bit a lot of a reflection of a friendship that went wrong in my own life LOL so this might be me playing out how i wish things ended up :/so anyways please sharing ur thoughts and like and reblog!

#scoups #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol smut #seungcheol drabble #seungcheol scenarios #scoups imagines #scoups x reader #choi seungcheol #seungcheol x you #svt smut #svt reactions #svt fanfic #svt scenarios #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #choi seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol imagine #choi seungcheol fluff #choi seungcheol smut #seungcheol angst #seventeen angst #svt angst #scoups angst #seventeen fluff #📝 writing

[thef1diary]

Little Big Fan | Four

- Little Big Celebration

Series Masterlist

wc: 1.6k

After getting over the initial shock of seeing him, you greeted him. "I thought you were room service, I ordered some food."

He smiled but then he asked the question he's been meaning to ask since he couldn't find you after the celebrations, "why did you leave so fast?"

"Isabella watched you hold the trophy then she fell asleep. I didn't want the noise to disturb her," you explained, and he nodded in understanding. "Is that why we're still standing here, because she's sleeping inside?"

You shook your head, "as long as you keep it down." You moved out of the way to let him inside and he saw your favourite show queued up on the tv.

"Looks like you already have plans for the night," Max commented and you chuckled, "This is how my nights are usually spent."

"Well then I probably shouldn't ask if you want to come celebrate with us." Both of you sat on the couch, facing each other. "That would mean going to a club, which I can't do but you should go celebrate your win."

Based on the celebrations you saw on the podium, you knew the afterparty would be even better. A little part of you wished that you could go, but you were content with how you've been spending your nights lately.

"Congratulations by the way," you added. "Do you want me to leave?" Max asked bluntly which made you frown. "No, but if you have plans—"

"My plans are here, with you," he interrupted you, making you shut your mouth with his response. A smile threatened to grow on your face but you managed to compose it. "Plus I can celebrate next weekend at the next race," Max added, a smug smile on his face and you couldn't hold back yours any longer.

"That confident in your winning capabilities?" You asked with a teasing tone behind your words. He shrugged, "if I don't think I am the best, then I won't be the best."

There was another knock at your door, and this time you were certain it was room service. Fortunately, you ordered enough food so you could share with Max.

Watching your show was at the bottom of the priority list, replaced by wanting to keep the conversation going with Max.

"Don't tell Brad about this," Max spoke, pointing to the meal that surely wasn't part of his diet. "Oh no, the champion is a rule breaker," you teased him, earning a smile from him in return.

Max looked at the closed bedroom door, "did she have fun today?"

"So much fun! I think she would start asking me when we're going to another race," you told him, the excitement on Isabella's face is something you wouldn't forget anytime soon.

"All you have to do is ask, I can get you the passes for the next race." Based on his tone, he wasn't joking and you quickly shook your head.

"No, you've already done so much for us; the hotel, flight tickets, caps and whatnot," you explained, but he was quick to retort. "I don't want to sound like a stuck up asshole, but the cost doesn't matter as much as the experience."

You couldn't help but chuckle, "maybe another time, Isabella is starting school soon too."

"First grade?" He asked, and you nodded, "yeah, she's growing up so fast."

"And what about you, did you enjoy this weekend?" He looked at you in anticipation, hoping you enjoyed his company as much as he enjoyed yours.

"Maybe not as much as Isabella, but it was a very nice experience and I still can't believe you do this for a living." He chuckled at your response, but then you added, "and what about you?"

"What about me?" He asked, and you clarified, "did you enjoy this weekend, home race and all?"

He seemed taken aback by the question but he answered nonetheless. "A lot better than it usually is," the meaning behind his words was clear to you, especially with the way he looked at you.

"If you told me earlier, I would've worn orange for the race." Max shook his head, "Then people would've thought that you were supporting McLaren."

An idea popped in your mind and you slapped your hand on his thigh while exclaiming, "I should've taken the cape from Daniel!"

Your hand remained on his thigh but you didn't seem to realize, and he didn't move it away either. "I'll get you one next year," Max suggested.

Your focus shifted away from Max as soon as you heard footsteps in the room Isabella was sleeping in. "Hold on," you stood up and went to check on her.

As soon as you opened the door, Isabella paused in her step, looking at you with a sheepish smile on her face.

"Angel, are you hungry?" You asked, knowing that there were a bit of leftovers. She shook her head, then pointed at the suitcase or rather the teddy bear sitting on the suitcase.

You passed it to her and she climbed back in bed. "Are you sure you're not hungry?"

"No, mama, I'm tired." On cue, she yawned as you walked closer to her. Tucking her in properly, you placed a kiss on her forehead and sat by her side, brushing your fingers through her hair until she was sound asleep. Which again, didn't take long.

You noticed the glittery clips still in her hair from earlier in the day. You carefully began taking them out one by one while trying not to wake her up. Then, after placing another kiss on her forehead, you left the room.

"Everything okay?" Max asked as soon as you sat down on the couch. You nodded, "yeah, she went back to sleep."

"The race really tired her out today," he smiled because of his next thought, "seems like she's the one who raced instead of me."

You chuckled, "looks like it." Then you added, "I know you're a professional and all but it was just as much fun as it was scary watching you drive so fast."

"So you're not a big fan of fast cars?" He didn't comment on the fact that you only mentioned him while there were nineteen other drivers on the grid.

"That depends, will your follow up question be if I would trust you to drive me around?" You responded with a question and he had a sheepish smile on his face, "maybe."

"I guess I'll have to get in a car with you one day to know the answer to both questions."

Your conversation was interrupted by a call on Max's phone. He muttered a curse before declining it. "Why don't we watch your show?" Max suggested, leaning back on the couch comfortably.

You didn't ask him about his other plans, as he had already assured you earlier that the only plan he has for tonight are with you.

It was possible that he wanted to spend more time with you before you leave tomorrow evening, and you couldn't help but smile at the thought.

The thought of leaving didn't sit with you, but you pushed it to the back of your mind and focused on the present, with him.

You grabbed the remote and pressed play, shuffling a tad bit closer to Max.

Somewhere along the way, a few episodes later, Max's arm rested on the back of the couch. His fingers lightly grazed your shoulder every time either of you moved.

Max's phone rang two more times. The second time he picked up and quickly muttered, "I'm busy." Then he turned it off, and apologized to you.

"It's okay, you're the most popular man of the night, people want to see you," you shrugged casually.

"Yeah well, I don't want to see them." You chuckled, liking his bluntness.

It was pretty late when he decided to leave, both of you were so tired but neither wanted the night the end. You opened the door for him, but as he stepped out, he turned to look at you.

"I'll drop you two at the airport tomorrow, just let me know when you're leaving." Once again he said it so casually that you had to remind yourself that he only knew you for a few days. Although it didn't feel like it.

"You don't have to," you reminded him that he was under no obligation to send you off. He shook his head, "I want to, if you let me."

You couldn't say no to him, and perhaps it was a little selfish because you wanted to spend all the time there was with him. You haven't been selfish in a while and it is about time to change that.

"I'll text you tomorrow then. Isabella is going to be very happy knowing she'll see you tomorrow as well." You stated, not mentioning that you would be happy to see him too, using your daughter as an excuse. But then, you didn’t lie either because Isabella would be overjoyed as well.

"Trust me, I'll be very happy too," he added with a smile, preferring not to tell you how delighted he would be to see you as much as he was to see Isabella. That information was best kept to himself.

Then he left. While Max hadn't properly celebrated a race win tonight like he usually did, this sort of celebration felt better than any others.

He walked away with a smile on his face that wasn't related to his victory at all. He was just looking forward to seeing you and Isabella again.

Taglist: (let me know if you want to be added or removed) @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @omgsuperstarg @fanficweasley @redbullgirly @llando4norris @wonnou @randomgirlnumber13 @dark-night-sky-99 @chanshintien @leilanixx @gisellesprettylies @peachiicherries @monsieurbacteria6 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @arian-directioner @distancedss @morenofilm @sachaa-ff @lighttsoutlewis @teamnovalak @casperlikej @sadg3 @d3kstar @lewisvinga @lpab @queenofmanydreams @glitterf1 @honethatty12 @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @its-avalon-08 @yourbane @oconswrld @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ssrcsm @softtina @namgification

#max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #thef1diary fic #f1 imagine #little big fan fic #fluff

[kingconia]

TWISTED WONDERLAND'S ROYAL BOYS WITH S/O, WHO IS THEIR SWORN PROTECTOR

Riddle Rosehearts. ❤️

— You are something between his protector, and, basically, a... Tutor? Governess? It is hard to tell, but his mother insisted on keeping him safe and controlled;

— You tried to do that, by the way. But it killed you to see him struggling, being stripped away from a proper childhood;

— From the other side, there wasn't much you could do. If his mother noticed some strangeness, she would find him a new guard, and you wasn't sure that they will be as kind as you;

— You secretly left him some chocolate and other tokens, writing him about how proud you are. He figured out that it was you, of course, but both of you never discussed it;

— You follow him to the NRC, and that is where you could finally act freely around him. Though, you still follow a strict rules—knowing how much Riddle values them—you still try to prove him that life is much more than that.

•

”Lady Y/n, I hope you understand that I could get you fired,” Riddle says, voice coming so small that it is hardly threatening. ”You are crossing lines.”

You smile, lowering your head instinctively, as you kneel in front of him.

”Of course.”

”You are disobedient,” he continues, his bottom lip trembling. ”It is against rules, and you know that. You should be punished according to them.”

”I understand. That will be done,” your eyes are meeting his. ”But for now, my majesty... Will you blow your candles?”

Riddle stares at the little cake that you made yourself, quietly and secretively, while he studied throughout the day, and lets out a very quiet sob. His eyes are watery, when he nods.

”And, please, don't forget about your wish.”

He nods again, still not trusting his voice. When he finishes, you are clapping at him proudly, rushing to serve him a cake.

I can have everything I want, but all I would ask, it is for you to stay by my side, Lady Y/n.

He never punishes you for that, in the end.

Kalim Al-Asim. 💛

— A sworn protector? Oh, please, he thinks you are his friend from the very beginning. And your attempts to explain to him that you are here for completely another thing, fail;

— You are really fond of him, but you feel like allowing him to see you as a friend is a direct threat to his safety, and therefore, you always deny him and his attempts to become friends;

— Kalim is really reckless, and sometimes naive. It gives you a heart attack all the time, and you can't help but be clued to him, just in case if anything happens;

— Kalim doesn't really take you seriously, though? Yes, he knows you are powerful, and you can fight and kill, but, eh, what else? You are sweet, and you are his friend anyway;

— Still, it hurts him when you so actively refuse to be called as one, insisting that you are a mere guard. Not because of himself. He just thinks it is sad that you consider yourself to be just a tool under the royal family.

•

You walk soundlessly, as you move behind Kalim, keeping the distance in ten steps, following the common royal code.

Neither of you speak, and Kalim seems to be not in the spirit. Which is rare and disturbing, but you assume it is something related to Jamil.

”Am I allowed to ask a question?” You dare to murmur, voice so quiet that it is barely heard.

”...Yes, Y/n,” he answers immediately.

Sometimes, you don't speak for days, mere being his shadow, nodding and shrugging if questions asked, trusting Kalim to understand. That is why your voice is always a music to his ears, a very awaited sound.

”Had something happened between you and Jamil, my prince?”

He stops, and you stop as well. Your brows furrowing, waiting for the answer.

”Why would you care, Y/n?” He wonders suddenly. ”Jamil is clearly not a threat to my well-being. If anything, he keeps me alive simply by cooking.”

You know that as well. Yet, you can't help but worry about his state.

”Because...” Your voice trails off, as you can't say a true reason behind your question. ”No, you are right, of course.”

Kalim ignores your last sentence, before finally turning to face you. His expression is thoughtful, with a slight curiousity on the bottom of his eyes.

”Could it be... That you care about me as a friend?”

You gulp, and he notices that. But you can't deny it. Lying to him wasn't something you could do, anyway.

”...It could.”

His face brightens.

You can't take it back now.

Malleus Draconia. 💚

— His grandmother chose the fairest, the strongest fae to the role of his sworn protector, of course. She loves him, she wants to make sure he is safe, all the time;

— Malleus was a quite likeable person, and you grow fond of him in an instant, promising yourself to keep him safe all the time;

— But who would've thought that it is not murder attempts that you will ought to protect him, but evil words of his peers?;

— Watching him being lonely, mistreated and misunderstood made you sick. More than anything in the world, you want Malleus to be happy and fit in the society, but it is a hard task, even for you;

— Unlike Kalim, he doesn't call you friend, but he really wants too. He is too shy, and fears that he mistook your responsibility as a guardian as kindness.

•

”Please, be careful, my prince,” you mutter, eyes fixated on Malleus's back as he works on making gargoyle, working with a stone and carved knife. “You put too much strength, and it can hurt you.”

Malleus sighs, but slows down as you asked him to. Your shoulders relax, and contained with his pace, you return to reading a book you brought with you.

”I am fae, lady Y/n,” he says. ”Just as you, I am quite immortal and very hard to hurt. You shouldn't be worried about little scratches.”

You are aware that Malleus will not die from a single cut. Yet, you are genuinely concerned about his state in every possible way, starting with physical well-being, and finishing with mental one.

”Perhaps,” you agree reluctantly. ”But, my prince, I care about you deeply. Not just as your sworn protector, but as a... Ah, how Lilia says that? A part of the family, right. You are a part of my family, my prince. It is only natural for me to— Oh! My prince!”

You can't even finish your sentence as the stone cracks in two pieces from careless, too nervous, hit from Malleus. You run to him, so worried, instantly taking his bleeding hand in your own, that can't notice the redness of his cheeks.

”Family...” He whispers.

”I told you to be careful!” You hiss, completely forgetting about subordination. “Ugh...”

Yet, he manages to give you a little smile.

Now, he knows more.

Leona Kingscholar. 🧡

— As a second to the throne, Leona might or might not be in danger all the time, and, of course, Farena found him a sworn protector eventually. In fact, he found a kid, to grow up around Leona as his guard;

— In the childhood, he always fought between an urge to send you away and humiliate, and to talk with you about his interests, because no one cared about him;

— But the fact that it is your job to be around him, made him to stop most of the time. He couldn't consider your interest in him as a sincere one;

— It didn't get better later. Quite opposite. When both of you became a part of NRC, he dismissed you completely, telling you that from now, his only servant is Ruggie;

— You felt betrayed. Not just because you was replaced, and it was your only job, but because you genuinely cared about him all these years, despite everything.

•

”Huh?” Leona glances at a fancy box on his table. ”Ruggie, whose gift is that?”

His birthday was a mess—in a good way—and he spent a lot of time on accepting gifts from his mates and other housewardens. But just as he thought that he finished, he finds another one! Ugh. Just his luck.

”Oh... It is from Y/n.”

Leona frowns.

You hardly speak nowadays, and though he misses you—it is hard not to, when both of you were together for decades—he will never admit that aloud. You stopped trying to contact him too, after he ignored you fully a three times. Which is fair, but, maybe, if you pushed harder, he would gave up...

”Why would she gift me something?” He mutters, hands coming to unwrap it.

It takes from him some time to understand what you got on his birthday.

A self-made chess set from the wood, where every single figure means something to him. But most importantly... The King one has his face on it.

His chest tightens instantly.

He misses you. He really does.

When the postcard falls out of the box, he loses it completely.

It is an old photo of both of you, still as a kids. It has you, smiling softly as you do Leona's little braids, who is settled between your legs, looking drowsy.

It makes him smile instinctively.

«To my king, and to my prince. But most importantly, to my first friend, and to the kid, who loved taking care of his mother's garden. Happy birthday, Leona Kingscholar. May you will be always happy.»

He presses a postcard to his chest.

Your birthday is in three weeks. And Leona knows what he is going to gift you this year. He only hopes you will accept him back.

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #leona x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #malleus x reader #malleus draconia #kalim al asim #kalim x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader

[pearlzier]

it was incredibly hard for matt to focus on painting your nails when you were staring at him like that. it's not even your fault! you're just looking at him, since what else are you to look at, and he's making such a big deal out of it. your brow furrows a tiny bit, playfully, as he grumbles under his breath about ‘your pretty face’, and you can't help but mumble a response—“what was that?”

his blue eyes lift to yours and his brow cocks upward, like he didn't say anything. “huh? nothing, sit still for me,” he said that under the guise that you'd forget hearing what he'd said.

well, you didn't. “something about my pretty face, perhaps?” you flicker your eyes over his face as a giggle slips past your lips, and the eyeroll that comes from matt only tells you everything you needed to know. “do you have something you need to tell the class, mister sturniolo?”

a childish scoff escaped him and he gave you a little cheeky grin, rolling his shoulders in a shrug soon after. “you keep starin’ at me,” he starts, “s'a lot.”

“a lot?” your tone is so incredulous it makes him giggle. so he nods, biting back another giggle at your raised brows that meet his gaze. “how is me looking at you a lot?”

matt feels the need to correct you, “staring, not lookin’. fuckin’ thousand yard stare,” he smiles a little more at the way you laugh at his words. “m'bein’ honest! don't laugh at me. when you laugh, you move your hands. how m'i supposed to paint ‘em like this?” he huffs at your giggling, although it's very clearly playful.

“fine, fine, sorry,” you offer your hand out, watching as he applied the polish gently but skillfully. he was probably one of the only people you trusted to paint your nails, besides the nail techs at your local salon. first of all, matt was good eye candy. and he was committed to the job. “never seen you so focused,” he looks at you through his lashes for a faint moment, before he returns to looking at your nails.

“i'd be even more focused if you kept your mouth shut,” he retorted almost instantly, giggling at his own words. your mouth falls open, comically wide, and you splutter for a response which doesn't actually come, which results in matt bursting into laughter. and a bit of stray nail polish coating your finger. “oh, motherfucker.”

“if i die—”

“it's because i'd have killed you,” matt presses a kiss to your forehead, making his way past to go grab a wipe, and perhaps also a tissue in case he needs to use nail polish remover. as he passes back over, you impulsively give him a pat on the ass like you're a car salesman; he glances over at you for a moment, expression unamused. “you're not funny.”

“i so am,” you hum, giggling as he sits back down in front of you with an exaggerated sigh. he brings your finger closer to him so he can wipe it down. your eyes focus on him once more, and this time, he lifts his gaze to meet yours gently.

he smiles once more, sighing when he comes to the realisation you won't actually stop staring. “think you got a staring issue, babe,” matt's voice is warm, and he gives you a little nudge with his shoulder. “oh, finished by the way.”

you were a little preoccupied with responding to the accusations, when you in fact did realise he was finished. a gasp escaped you, and your gaze lifted back to his again—“since when?”

“were too busy starin’ to realise,” matt sat back in his chair, popping the lid back onto the nail polish. until he saw that look in your eyes and he scooted his chair back instantly. “absolutely not.”

“matt,” the moment your hand reached for the nail polish, and then his, he practically ran. “come back!” you whine, and he's literally gone to hide from you doing his nails.

“i don't trust you with nail polish!” knowing you, you'd end up snorting it and getting high. or getting him high.

#matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo blurb #matt sturniolo drabble #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo triplets drabble #sturniolo triplets blurb #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo blurb #chris sturniolo drabble #christopher sturniolo

[clovestreet]

let me- ethan landry

an: i am absolutely FERAL for this man atm...😨i just had to write something abt him..

summary: you have been super stressed about exams lately and ethan knows the best way to make you feel better. (also this is DEFINITELY more soft ethan??) but i like that.. lol

warnings⚠ SMUT (16+), oral (f receiving), strong language

Hell on earth was organic chemistry.

Your absolute fucktard of a professor had scheduled your exam on the same day as two of your other exams. This man had it out for you.

You massaged your temple as you drummed your pencil on your notes. Your brain wasn't functioning anymore. You had been sitting at this godforsaken desk for three hours now. You needed a break.

You forced yourself out of your chair and faceplanted on your bed next to your boyfriend in defeat. You sighed into the mattress and tried to gather your thoughts.

"Something bothering you baby?" your boyfriend laughed as he rubbed small circles into your back, clearly amused by your frustration with trying to memorize aromatic compounds.

"I can't do this anymore E, "I'm actually so exhausted."

"I wish someone would just kill the stupid bastard." you groaned into your palms.

Ethan gulped and immediately froze in his movements and you weren't sure why. But then he was comforting you again like nothing had happened.

"I'm sorry baby. If it makes you feel better, I just failed my last exam."

You laughed as he pulled you closer, the grasp of his arms melting away your stress.

"Honestly, I don't know if anything could make me feel better at this point.”

“Unless you can teach me the structure of carboxylic acid." you said with your hands on his chest staring into his dark eyes.

His chest shook with laughter and it was music to your ears. Ethan was so comforting and even being in his arms took you to a place far away from your worries.

"Definitely can't do that, but I think I can take your mind off it for a little while." he murmured into your lips.

"Oh yeah? How's that?"

"Well it usually starts with my head between your legs” he says in a low whisper.

You immediately feel your cheeks flush with warmth and squeeze your legs together.

You completely froze and waited for him to finish his sentence.

“ ..And ends with you screaming my name or something like that." he says with a devilish smirk.

He grins like a lovesick bastard at your embarrassment and tilts his head down to connect his lips to yours. He smiles into the kiss and you can feel your pulse weakening at the way his tongue explores your mouth.

His lips travel down your neck and you know exactly where he's going. You pull him off of you and look him in straight in his hazy brown eyes.

You and Ethan had been together for a little over a year now and you had been intimate more times than you could even begin to remember. You still got nervous before he went down on you and you just couldn't help but feel insecure sometimes, but Ethan always made you forget about all of it when he touched you.

"E, are you sure? You really don’t have to, I-”

He immediately stops you with a confused expression on his face.

“Baby are you kidding? I live for this shit.”

“I should probably get back to studying E, I just-"

He cut you off again, this time taking your head into his hand and made sure you met his gaze.

"Fuck studying. Let me make you feel good babe."

His thumb gently brushed over your cheek as he searched your eyes for an answer.

"Ok, fine." you said softly with a shy smile on your face.

"That's my girl." he said with a grin spreading over his face as he placed the softest kiss on your lips.

His fingers danced their way over your ribs under your shirt and his lips were placing gentle kisses on your hipbones. His fingers made their way down to the waistband of your shorts and his eyes quickly glanced up to yours asking for consent. You quickly nodded your head, becoming more and more eager for him to touch you by the second.

He pulled down your shorts gently and tossed them behind him. He hooked his fingers under your lace panties and pulled them down painfully slow. Once they were off, he grabbed both of your legs and put them over his shoulders. He wrapped his arms around your legs and pulled them open.

He looked up at you through lustful eyes while licking his lips.

"I got you. Always." he said in a low whisper placing a kiss on your inner thigh.

You brushed a gentle hand over his curls and offered a weak smile to him. You could feel your anticipation for his touch becoming stronger and your legs were shaking before he even touched you.

You could feel his breath on you and you couldn't take it anymore. You wrapped your fingers in his curls and guided him onto you.

He licked up your slit as you sucked in a shaky breath. Your thighs immediately clenched around him, but his strong hands pulled your legs right back open. His tongue started to circle around your clit and your fingers were already tugging on his curls. He groaned into you and the vibration had you letting out a choked moan.

"Right there E." you gasped.

He looked up at your face contorted in pleasure and started to grind his hips onto to the bed. Ethan was the kind of boyfriend who genuinely could get off from pleasuring you and have absolutely no shame about it.

He was lost in the taste of you and you were lost in his touch. You couldn't even remember what you were stressed about in the first place. Your mind was consumed by the feeling of his tongue sloppily tasting you and swirling around your clit, the tight grip of his fingers prying open your thighs, his dark eyes peering up at you through hooded lids occasionally rolling back into his head every time you moaned his name.

His hand slid carefully down your thigh as he slipped his middle finger into you, pumping in and out at a deliciously slow pace.

Your fingers tugged harder on his curls and he practically moaned into you.

"F-feels so good E, you're so good" you whined.

"I know baby I know, I'm gonna get you there I promise." he murmured into you, pressing wet kisses on your clit.

His words made you toss your head back and your back arch off the bed.

He slipped another finger into you, pumping a little faster this time.

Your fingers loosened from Ethan's hair and slid down his bare shoulders. His fingers started to curl inside you, purposefully hitting the spot he knew would send you over the edge. You moaned loudly and your nails dug into his back.

He groaned into you so loudly it almost caught you off guard. If you hadn't known better, you would have thought you hurt him. But you knew better by now. His sounds sent you even closer to the edge.

"Come on babe, let go for me." he breathed into you.

You could feel yourself impossibly close to your high with Ethan's gaze trained on your face. The second Ethan's nose rubbed your clit you were done for.

All you could do was moan his name over and over again, your nails digging into his back sure to leave marks. He fucked you all the way through your high until you were practically dragging him off of you.

You put your hand on the back of his neck and guided him toward your lips. God, he was so beautiful, even with the taste of you glimmering all over his features. You pulled him down into a breathless kiss and brought him closer by draping your leg over his waist.

He drew back and cupped your jaw looking down at you.

"I really hope you're not thinking about studying anymore tonight, because all I want to do-"

"Shut up and kiss me Landry."

#ethan landry #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagine #scream 6 smut

[talaok]

I just saw the video of the interviewer and Pedro where she called him daddy and asked how he was doing and his response was, “I’m alright, mama.” And I am in DESPERATE need of a fic. Wherever you want to go with it.

pairing: Pedro Pascal x interviewer!reader

a/n: This wasn't supposed to go like this. It's much more fluffy than I expected, but oh well, hope you enjoy.

You were nervous, as always.

The two years you'd been doing this flew out the window each time you knew you had to interview him.

It was such a stupid thing, a schoolgirl crush, but as much as you reminded yourself just how idiotic it was, the feeling never quite faded.

You had no idea what it was, the way he shook your hand the first time, the way his eyes never left yours, the sweet sound of your name rolling off his tongue...

It was all in the back of your mind, locked and loaded for you to remember.

You try to be calm with him though, playful even, but god if he doesn't make it hard.

He and his handsomeness and what you firmly believed was involuntary flirtatiousness.

You were taking a deep breath when you saw the flashes on the carpet starting to die down.

fuck.

It was time.

just like magic, he appeared before you in a few moments, followed by his assistant.

They exchanged a few words and you saw Pedro's eyes focus on you while the men beside him explained to him something to his ear.

You swallowed thickly, his gaze draining all the breath out of you.

God, he was beautiful, even his outfit fit him to a t.

Before you had gotten enough time to properly freak out, he was walking towards you.

"good evening Pedro!" you said cheerfully.

"good evening to you too Y/n"

You had to remind yourself his assistant had probably just reminded him of your name, and that he didn't just know it on the tip of his tongue.

You knew what you needed to say next, but the pit in your stomach informed you it wasn't a good idea.

You forced the fear down.

"so how're you doing daddy?"

He chuckled, and you couldn't help but stare.

"I'm alright mama" he grinned, and you swore you could feel your brain leaking out of your ears, as it had melted.

mama?

"you don't like that?" he noticed the expression on your face.

"I-I do" you blushed "maybe a little too much"

What the fuck

Why the fuck did you just say that?

He laughed softly, a smirk tugging at his lips " That's interesting" he spoke, and you felt like you were about to die, so you decided to change subject.

"so, if you remember-"

"I remember" he interrupted

"let me ask the question first" you laughed

"I don't have to, I remember every interview with you" he smiled "You're not easy to forget"

oh

If you were having troubles breathing before, your lungs were now completely useless.

"I-" you gulped, your eyes glancing at the expecting man behind the camera.

"It's alright sweetheart, what was the question?"

You were as red as the blood flowing beneath your skin.

"You really wanna get me fired, don't you?" you joked.

"that's the last thing I want" he shook his head "how else would I get to see you?"

"well there are other ways," you said before you could stop yourself.

He smirked, and you noticed his eyes scanning your face "I know there are" he said "Maybe I should get to work on those"

and just like that, your heart stopped.

did he mean...?

You couldn't think about it, not now, you had an interview to carry on, or you were actually gonna get fired.

"You have to stop"

"stop what?"

"I can't interview you if I have a heart attack, Pedro" You smiled, and he reciprocated, his eyes playful and yet somewhat... adoring.

"You're right, I'll stop," he said "What's the first question, mama?"

this bastard.

__ __ __

"thank you very much," you said, ending the interview.

"thank you" he smiled, as the camera shut off and the cameramen slipped away after murmuring something to your ear.

You could hear all the other interviewers shout and call for him, but for some reason, he didn't move.

"You should go," you told him "They're all waiting to interview you"

"I know," he said as if it physically pained him "but first I wanted to do something I've been thinking of for a while now" 

"what's that?" you asked

"ask for your number"

You froze. Every molecule of your being stilled in shock.

"I-" you stuttered "a-are you serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"b-because you're Pedro Pascal"

He grinned "And you're y/n y/l/n, the most beautiful and charming woman I've ever met"

Your mouth couldn't help but to break into the dreamiest of smiles, and according to Pedro, the most breathtaking too.

"where?"

he frowned

"Where do I give you my number?"

he too, broke into a smile, relief washing over him as you accepted "here" he patted his pockets "Put it in my phone" he said, handing it to you.

You did, your fingers threatening to type wrong as they trembled.

"done" you said, giving it back

"I gotta go now" he sighed "but..."

your eyes shot up to his

"please don't change your mind sweetheart" he begged

"wouldn't dream of it" you promised, earning a big smile, as he backed away into the crowd on the carpet.

You put your hands on the metal fence in front of you, exhaling deeply as you let your head fall between your shoulders.

did that just really happen?

Did I finally go completely crazy?

And then, just as you were about to accept your fate as a soon-to-be psychiatric hospital patient, your phone dinged.

Two new messages from an unknown number lit up the screen.

-hey mama

-so do you have plans for tomorrow night?

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x fem reader #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal interview #the last of us hbo #the last of us #tlou #tlou hbo #the mandalorian #narcos #joel miller #javier pena #mando #pedro pascal x interviewer!reader #fluff

[nhoirr]

QUESTION ! — Do you like me?

Asking genshin impact men the question, "Do you like me?"

Var!genshin.men x reader. WARNINGS ? — fluff.

"No," — "Oh." was what you breathe out, your expression morphing into a wince — the twitch of your smile faltering at his quick response. It takes all of your will power to not just burst into tears right then and there, wishing you had the capability the traveller had to just simply disappear.

"'Like' is a vague word," He adds on, like adding salt to the wound and your expression contorts into a grimace; immediately regretting your actions when you would want nothing more than to forget about this embarrassing moment of your life; to shrink away and crawl into a hole, never to be heard of again. But, you can't help but be curious.

"It could mean — if I enjoy your company, to like you as a person, a friend or.."-something more? He trails off his words, his eyes glazing over to your nervous form infront of him. Clearly on edge with his words, dangling between embarrassment or futile hopes — beads of sweat forming on your forehead as you prepare yourself for the finishing blow of rejection.. But it doesn't come; instead, he speaks again.

"But perhaps.." — Theres a quirk to his lips, his expression once devoid of any change, suddenly displaying his growing amusement dancing along behind his gaze; and so, you can't help but hope that maybe.. "The latter," he concludes.

AN ATTEMPT TO FLIRT OR A PLOT OF LOGIC? — He knows the answer far too well, the moment he felt the racing beat of his heart. The moment his gaze would always come to seek you at every place — it made him sick, sick enough to despise it; at first, he thought it was nothing but a hindrance in the face of his duties. BUT — he realizes that it was far too late to back away, because he already had a taste of what he could lose if he would ever let go. It seems he couldn't let go before the attachments grew far from his control, so he lets himself be free for a moment, to indulge the desires and to quench his longing heart.

♡ — ALHAITNAM, diluc, KAEYA, SCARAMOUCHE, HEIZOU, ayato, albedo, LYNEY

— "Maybe." — "sorry?" Your face falls flat in confusion of what to feel, when the feeling in your chest stirs but also tightens in anticipation.. But maybe? What was with that response—?!

"I don't?" He throws the question back to you and it renders you speechless, jaw dropping on the floor type of speechless. "No, no — what do you.." You try to go about it in a roundabout way, "What do you think of me?"

You knew he was not familiar with things involving trivial matters such as love, he had no such time nor interest in the topic; well-before, that was until you came waltzing into his life.

If he were to compare it to any other stories he had heard before — it was akin to finding your soulmate, completing yourself by finding your other half. Providing the coverage to the areas he knew nothing about — and one of those things were.. love.

"You.. are important to me. I find your company as something to come back to every day as a reassuring reminder that you are here with me, I am comforted with just merely by your presence." Theres a burning feeling bubbling up inside you, and it didn't take a genius to know that you were now blushing; you were sure it showed even more with every word he'd utter next — you shrink back in embarrassment, but still touched no less.

"I don't find my time with you as a waste, In fact.. the days seem to pass faster than ever when you are around. Even so, I don't seem to find you a bother, and.." So he merely answers with what he feels, with what he knows — "You make me feel things that are.. unfamiliar to me," He notes that now would be a good example of that — you had a knack of charming his heart and making him feel sick. (lovesick?)

—and to that, he thinks he finally came to a conclusion that he may.. ! perhaps.. ?!

INNOCENT AND UNCERTAIN — He wasn't sure if it was like or like-like. He had no prior knowledge of this afterall, you were the first to break through the numerous cold stone walls of his. Stealing his heart away before he could retort — he finds himself smitten too, unable to resist the warmth you bring.

♡ — XIAO, dainsleif, kaveh, itto[?]

— "Yes, I do." The straight up response from him knocks the air out of you. He says it so awfully casual that it renders you speechless, your heart beating out of your ribcage — you know its true when he smiles at you. So gently, soft — you could even say so breathtakingly beautiful that you think you're being blinded by the sun, perhaps you saved a country in your last life to have this man be yours.

"Really?" You query, cheeks painted into rose tinted hues. "Yes, really." He replies in court, the atmosphere never felt this much full before — was this what they mean, when they say 'love is in the air'?

"I like you," You confess and you see how his face softens, the wrinkle in his eye when his body leans into you, shoulders slacking when he relaxes his posture; odd, you didn't remember being this close before, "I like you too,"

LOVING, SURE AND TRUE — You finally know that his every smiles are for you. That you are sure of — that for you, he smiles. The smile of his that seeps through every crevice of your world, painting it with colors of the first sun rays of the day your love bloomed. In memory of every butterfly that would erupt in your stomach, to every fleeting glances and the burst of heat burning your cheeks in fluster — a sign that love had bloomed, and spring had come.

♡ — CYNO, venti, KAZUHA, childe, WANDERER, thoma, Zhongli

© Nhoirr — DO NOT COPY NOR PLAGIARIZE MY WORKS!

[ Dividers by @horrorification ! ]

#genshin imagines #genshin fluff #genshin impact drabbles #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x reader fluff #childe x reader #xiao x reader #kazuha x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #heizou x reader #zhongli x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #cyno x reader #venti x reader #thoma x reader #dainsleif x reader #lyney x reader #albedo x reader #ayato x reader

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine having deep discussions with the Whitebeard pirates

Ace: Have you ever wondered why the world government opposes people so far away from them, doing what we do?

Marco: [mutters] I wish you would just stop saying odd shit.

Whitebeard: well we're breaking the law, obviously.

You: It's a little deeper than that. It's because what many pirates do, is the same thing the world government does.

Marco: We are not similar in any way.

You: no, think about it, what does the world government do? They lay out a bunch of rules and if you don't follow them, they use violence to force most of the world into following them. And if a nation elects not to join the world government, or can't afford to join, they raid and pillage those islands and take their citizens as slaves.

Izou: On the other hand, if a nation does join the world government, they have to pay heavenly tributes, because if they don't, the Marines will raid and pillage your country. But if they pay the heavenly tributes, the marines will protect their nation from outsiders, like pirates and non-world-government-nations.

Whitebeard: However, on top of paying the heavenly tribute, the average person also pays local and national taxes, so it's a heavy burden for some countries.

Marco: Oh my gods, it's like a protection racket, that common thugs run, just on a massive scale.

Whitebeard: and, like many pirates.

You: they don't like pirates, for the same reason they don't like common thugs, because you all are muscling in on their turf.

Thatch: so most governments are just organized, and socially acceptable, thuggery.

You: Not all, look at Alabasta for instance, King Cobra has a lot of social programs for his people. Food programs and affordable housing for the poor. Medical programs that put a doctor in every village and a bunch of other stuff. The people should receive something back from their government besides 'protection'.

Ace: I know a lot of nations that are in the world government have a large lower class that they exploit labor from and bleed them dry with taxes, tolls, and fines. I can never forget what I saw at the Grey Terminal out of the Goa Kingdom's Great Gate.

Thatch: That's because in "normal society" they value wealth, and look down on and take advantage of people who don't have it. Meanwhile, in pirate culture, we value strength and look down on and take advantage of those who are weaker, like how we raid other crew's ships because we can, and they can't stop us.

Izou: [sighs] That's an oversimplification If I ever heard one.

Thatch: [steps into Izou's space bubble.] You got something to say to me?

Izou: I've been to both world-government nations and non-world-government nations, and I can tell you that they value both strength and wealth. It's just different classes value one over the other. The upper and more privileged class values wealth, and daintiness because they can hire the strong. While the less privileged value strength, because it helps them survive, because they don't have money.

Thatch: I know that, did you forget I grew up poor as shit, mister little daimyo's vassal-boy.

Izou: And I was a wandering beggar minstrel before that, also keep Oden's name out of your mouth.

Thatch: how about you fucking make me?

Marco: [hops between the two men and dramatically claps his hands together like a clapperboard.] Aaand scene, that was a brilliant performance, gentlemen.

Ace: it was almost hard to tell that you two are actually friends.

Thatch: [huffs] Alright, I'll take it back, I'm sorry Izou.

Izou: I'm sorry too

You: you all are too fighty.

Ace: bitch, you're the most stab happy out of all of us.

You: I am not

Whitebeard: Just last night, you stabbed Vista's hand with a fork because he kept reaching over your plate.

You: ... I did do that, but only after asking him to stop three times. Which is more than reasonable, he's a grown-ass adult, and he, and his fuck ass mustache, should know basic table etiquette by now.

Ace: and then you stabbed me for no reason, with the same fork!

You: that was for good measure, just in case you got any ideas!

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#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #whitebeard pirates #whitebeard #portgas d ace #fire fist ace #marco #marco the phoenix #marco the pineapple #izou #thatch #from the depths of the dragon's hoard #tma original #4/22/24 #no beta we die like men

[notspidergoth]

HOBIE BROWN X BURNT OUT READER

Summary: Reader is overworking themselves, Hobie helps them out! (romantically implied)

Warnings: Forgetting to eat, almost fainting, my sleep-deprived grammar, oh and cursing

A/N: (totally not projecting right now how am I still in school. fucking finals... UGH!!)

Wordcount: 928 words

You continued to type on your laptop, vigorously working the paper your English teacher thought would be a good idea to assign a week before final exams.

There was still some homework to catch up on, pages of mindless busywork to jot out. Even yet there were still study guides to fill out and memorize, and did you end up finishing that project on-

Your train of thought was broken off by the sound of your bedroom window being slid open. The culprit looked up at you before closing the window behind him.

"Hey," Hobie greeted, walking over and leaning against your desk.

You moved some of the papers scattered on your desk out of his way, before continuing to type down your thesis statement.

"No 'hey' back today?" he smirked, tilting his head.

"Yeah, no, yeah, hey Hobie." you muttered, bowed over your laptop.

"When'd this all happen?" he gesturing to the stacks of papers on your desk.

"When all my teachers simultaneously decided to be fucking cunts."

He chuckled, sitting down on your bed. For the past while Hobie had been coming over to visit you, the both of you keeping each other company from time to time.

It was like he could sense when you were neglecting yourself at this point, always coming at the most opportune times.

"You seem pretty stressed, when's the last time you've taken a break?"

"A break? Sorry, but have you seen what I have left to do here?" you gestured, exasperated.

"I take that as a no for break-taking."

"Nope." you sighed, flipping through your notes.

"You at least eat something earlier?" he asked questioningly.

"Yeah, sure, yeah." you waved him away, reading through highlighted bullet points.

"Alright then." he shrugged, holding his hands up in surrender.

A couple hours past, and the two of you sat in comfortable silence with one another. You could faintly hear heavy guitar emitting from his phone, and the sound of him chuckling at whatever he was scrolling through. You could just imagine how his face looked when he smiled, the way the corners of his mouth would slant upwards into that arrogantly smug grin that just fit him so well, his lip piercing shifting ever so slightly when he-

"Doin alright?" Hobie looked over at you, "Ya kinda spaced out for a bit."

You looked up at Hobie, and then back down at the blinking cursor on your screen, the last edit made 11 minutes ago.

"Shit."

"Think its bout time you took a break." Hobie sat up, looking at you with concern.

Your brain finally caught up to the conversation. "Huh? No, I'm good, I'm good, sorry."

"Don't apologize." He said, getting up and leaning against your desk once again. "Its been awhile, lets go grab something to eat."

You looked back down at your paper, not nearly as close to done as you had wanted. "I can't, not right now... I'm almost finished it though!" You smiled tiredly, trying to hype yourself up for the remainder of the work left.

Hobie looked over at you, the piles of homework on your desk, and then back at you, before closing your laptop shut.

"Hey!-"

"Nope. C'mon, you're takin a break." he deadpanned, serious.

You were about to retaliate once more before he shot you a glare. You knew if you didn't stop now, he'd end up dragging you away from your desk. Or even worse, keep your laptop hostage. You shuddered at the thought, before you saw movement beside you.

Hobie held out a hand for you to grab, looking down at you from where he stood. The light in your room bounced off him, his metal studs and pins shining in the light.

You grabbed his hand, allowing him to help pull you up. Spots dotted their way into your vision as you stood, feeling the world spin around you. When was the last time you ate? You gripped onto his hand tighter, waiting for the lightheaded feeling to pass.

"You good?" He looked down at you, faux uncaringness hiding the worry across his face.

"Mhm, yup, all good, perfect, just feel like fainting, gimmie a sec."

He continued to hold you up as you supported your weight against him. It was warm, comforting almost if you could ignore the sickly feeling in your stomach.

You were glad your body granted you the ability to see once more, blinking at your surroundings, only to be met with Hobie, having leaned down to look at you. His sharp dark eyes were laced with concern as they looked into yours.

"Shit, have you not eaten yet today?"

Thinking about it now, you couldn't quite recall when you last ate, but you couldn't quite remember much of anything staring into his eyes. You saw them soften before you, before he stood up straight again.

"Fucks sake, c'mon, lets go." Hobie rolled his eyes, putting one of your arms around his shoulders, holding you upright.

"Where we going?" You asked, feeling confident enough to stand on your own, but not wanting to pull away from his warm touch.

"Food joint. Someone smart as you'd think eating's a bright idea, no?" He chuckled, leading you through your bedroom door.

"Not taking the window this time?" you joked, giggling. He had always entered and exited your apartment through the windows, no matter how many times you've asked him to use the front door.

A smile pulled across his face, "Yeah, yeah, shuddup."

The two of you laughed, holding onto him as you left behind your homework.

A/N: (lets see if i have the mental capacity to keep posting!!! remember to eat and drink water!)

#hobie x reader #spiderpunk x reader #spider punk x reader #hobie brown x reader #spiderman into the spiderverse #hobie brown #hobie my beloved