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#I had way too much fun with this oddly enough
sundrop-writes · 5 months
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if Mike fell asleep with you...
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Word Count: 750
Horror Characters Masterlist
Warnings: this is mostly pure fluff - Mike and the reader are in an established relationship, the reader's gender is not described in any way (the main pronouns used are you/yours), Mike calls the reader angel, the reader takes on a caregiver role for Abby, mostly just short and fluffy. This is set before the main events of the movie, when Mike is working as a security guard at the mall.
A/N: So, I've seen so many people in the tags going 'just let him sleep!!! that man is so exhausted!!' and saying that he's too tired to fuck in the way that people are writing fanfics about him. And as much as I love super horny fics, I do thought this up, because I agree - the man should be allowed to sleep. This is largely inspired by that scene in Grey's Anatomy where Meredith walked in and Owen was asleep on Cristina's chest while she was reading a book (I think it was when she was reading through Mer's mom's diaries?) - anyway. I love that scene so much because it shows how easily he sleeps around her because he's so comfortable around her. And that's why it deeply inspired this. Let him sleep.
...
Mike was exhausted when he came in the door. 
He heaved out a sigh as he closed the door behind him, toeing off his shoes - pure, stiff tiredness radiating through his whole body in the worst way. 
You knew that sound anywhere. 
“Long day?” You inquired gently from your position on the couch, lightly craning your neck to look at him. 
He shuffled further into the house in an almost zombie-like fashion, only giving you a solitary grunt in response. 
You felt kind of bad that he had been stuck at work late when you had been lucky enough to have a morning shift and been treated to a relaxing evening with Abby. She was a relatively easy kid to take care of, and generally fun to be around. 
And after you had put her to bed, you laid out on the couch, relaxing and reading a novel that your friend had recommended. Generally, you were having a nice evening. And it seemed that Mike was not. 
As you kept an eye on Mike, you folded over the page of your book to mark it and put it on the coffee table for later. 
“Dinner’s on the counter.” You told him. “I made lasagna. I can heat it up for you if you want.” 
You hated that before he started dating you, all he knew was freezer burnt crap - but you were slowly showing him how to cook, and a world of vegetables that didn't come in a can. 
Mike took off his jacket and the heavy belt he had to wear for work (his large walkie talkie and his taser were in his locker at work, as mandated, but the thing was still damn uncomfortable) and he hung them both up. 
He didn’t respond to your queries about dinner as he walked around the couch. Instead of speaking, seeing you laying there so relaxed - the sight was all too inviting, and he eased himself to lay on top of you in a form of very natural intimacy before he grunted a few words into your neck. 
“Did Abby eat?” He asked softly as he laid on top of you. 
It was oddly comforting to have the bulk of his weight on top of you, especially as he melted against you, letting out a small moan as the tension melted out of his bones. He adjusted himself to get more comfortable and his face rested against the softness of your chest - you glanced down to see that his eyes were drifting closed. 
“She ate two platefuls, and had some peas.” You assured him. “Did her homework, had a bath, and she practiced her spelling words before she went to bed.” 
Mike grunted again - a more positive pitch to this one. He couldn't ask for anyone better than you. Sometimes he worried about her - all the time. But when Abby was with you, that worry lessened a lot. 
“You’re an angel.” He hummed against your chest. “I don’t-” He let out a gentle yawn. “I don’t know how I got so lucky with you.” 
“You look hot in a uniform and my job at the bookstore gets boring.” You replied, half-joking about the circumstances of how your relationship with Mike had formed. 
You reached out to him and began running your fingers through his hair, soothing him even further into the realm of sleep with the comforting touch. 
He let out another tired moan in reply - something that almost stretched into a rolling sound with the gentle pleasure of your hand in his hair. With the way his body was so slack against yours, his breathing even and quiet, you knew this was only leading one place. 
“You wanna go get ready for bed?” You asked gently. 
“In a minute.” He answered softly, barely parting his lips to get the words out. 
You glanced over to the table and reached out, picking your book back up as his breathing deepened and his body went even more slack. You were preparing to get comfortable for the next few hours. You weren’t all that tired yourself, and you still had a few chapters left to go. When you got to the next chapter, he began to snore lightly and you felt drool dripping down your neck - which didn’t bother you all that much. You found it cute, in fact. 
You were comforted by the fact that he relaxed enough around you to get such a good sleep. You knew that he needed it. 
...
A/N: also, this is my first time posting a fic completely from mobile by copy/pasting something from google docs on my phone. So hopefully the formatting isn't too messed up and hopefully this goes well! And I hope you guys enjoy this short fluffy fic 💖
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moonstruckme · 4 months
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I saw your post about wanting James to give you a hug so good it breaks your ribs could I request a lil post with that LMAO like the reader just wanting like pressure and weight and for James to hug her and everyone’s all like ??? No? Either poly marauders or just James either is fun
Thanks babe!
James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 676 words
“M’sorry, sweetheart.” James' words are smushed against your neck, funny little kisses. He’s rubbing between your shoulder blades, unwavering in his sympathy ever since you’d told him you were having an off day, even though you’ve got no good reason for it. Your day had been fine, no noteworthy episodes, yet you’d felt oddly downtrodden through all of it. You’d come home exhausted and unable to explain yourself; James is taking it in stride. “Anything I can do?” 
“Could you hug me?” you mumble, squeezing tightly where you’ve got your arms wound beneath his, hands touching at his mid-back. 
His hand doesn’t falter, but you can hear the question in his tone. “I am hugging you, lovebug.” 
“Hug me tight,” you clarify. “It’s hard to explain, but I just want…pressure, right now.”
He makes a soft, bemused sound of assent. You move more fully into his lap, thighs bracketing his hips to get as close as you can as James wraps his big arms around you more securely. He pulls you tightly against him, but you can feel the lack of strain in his biceps. 
“Tighter,” you plead, pushing your face into his shoulder. “Break a few ribs if you gotta.” 
A laugh rumbles through him, loosening his grip. “What?” he asks, voice lightened by amusement. “I’m not gonna crush you.” 
“But you can.” You lift your head from the juncture of his neck, pouting at him. “You’re so strong, Jamie, just like, give me a solid squeeze. Please? I know you can do it.” 
“Flattery’s not going to work,” he chides teasingly, palm pushing into your back with some pressure but not enough. “There’s gotta be a way for me to help make you feel better that doesn’t involve squishing the life out of you.” 
“If you’re not up to the task, I’ll go to the zoo and find an anaconda,” you mutter into the material of his shirt. 
“What did you say?” 
“Nothing. Can you just try and give me one good squeeze, Jamie, pretty please?” You look up at him beseechingly, completely abusing the Bambi look you know melts him like ice cream in the sun. “I promise not to complain if I have to go to A&E afterwards.” 
You see the look working, James’ eyebrows bunching for a second before his expression eases into acquiescence. “Fine,” he says quietly, kissing the top of your head. “Just one more, and then we do something else. And I refuse to cause any injuries, so you have to tell me if it hurts, okay?”
You agree readily, cozying up to his front. You can feel the squeeze of his biceps against your arms this time, pressing in on your ribs as you hug him back. The solidity of him is nice, aching in a pleasant way, and you imagine all the heaviness of your day being squished right out of you as you bury your face in his neck. 
It ends too soon, but you’re satisfied. “Thank you,” you say, leaning back to smile at your boyfriend as your hand moves to his brawny shoulder, giving it an appreciative squeeze. “I feel a lot better.”
“Well, I feel properly used,” he grumbles, but his faux rancor is inlaid with fondness. 
“Used for the greater good,” you try, and it takes him all of a second to capitulate to your grin, planting a kiss under your eye. 
“Sure, sure. Anything for my girl, huh?” He slides a big palm to your hip, kneading lovingly at the fat there. “I better not catch you sneaking into the anaconda enclosure anytime soon, though.” 
“What, and cheat on you with a snake?” You shoot him your most angelic look. “They’ve got nothing on you, baby.” 
He shrugs, mouth pulling to one side consideringly. “Probably right. Those pricks don’t spend nearly as much time at the gym, yeah? Gotta be getting rusty.” 
You give him a quick kiss, laughing when he uses the hand still on your back to hold you in place for more. “My thoughts exactly.”
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ceruleancattail · 1 month
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Alright victims look. Dig out your ears and hear me out on this one.
V-tuber MC.
Look, the bills have to be paid in some way, right? A time-flexible job would be ideal, no? And if there an added layer of anonymity added to the job, won’t it be a perfect side-hustle?
Imagine streaming every week after classes, playing games or perhaps showcasing a certain talent of yours? Singing, drawing, dancing … whatever you’ve got. The list just goes on. Maybe you just sit down with your viewers, and have a light-hearted chat.
Talking about your friends and experiences seems to be well-welcomed, on your streams. Well, some of your experiences in Night Raven College are just… ridiculous. Having to run after a chaotic bunch of friends is exhausting, so at least those wacky experiences turn into good stories for the internet.
Everything is kept anonymous, of course. People get nicknames to cover their identities, and people think all of these tales come from you playing as the character they portray.
Now imagine Idia just stumbling across your streaming account. Perhaps he was bored, one day after class… and lo and behold, you were streaming right after class as well. Streaming some… story based game.
At first he joined just to have some background noise while he gamed. Idia told himself he’ll just lurk, maybe judge your gameplay for a bit. Yet he found himself clinging on to your every word, focusing more on your laughter then the controls of the console in his hand.
He ended up losing every match he played that day, but your follower count steadily went up by one.
Idia soon found himself tuning in more and more, looking forward to the days you were free to stream. They miraculously mirrored his quite closely, what a wonderful coincidence! He was still very much a lurker, but occasionally his trembling fingers will type out a word of encouragement or two, in the chat.
He likes the way you say his username, the way you read out every letter he typed. You remember him, oddly enough. Aways perking up whenever his username flashes across the screen, grinning away like an idiot.
Idia can’t say he doesn’t like it, though.
He keeps a keychain of you on his bag. A subtle design, never your model outright. Maybe it’s a small plushie of your fan mascot, or the logo of your avatar. Either way, he takes it with him everywhere, thumb stroking it whenever Idia’s thoughts wander.
Wonder what happens when one day, he stumbles across you in the hallway. Bags stuck together because your keychains tangled, and he saw you had the exact same one? The moment you open your mouth, apologising profusely… Idia knows. You’re the streamer he’s been faithfully watching ever since that day.
Oh no, he’ll never dox you outright. Idia knows all too well how badly parasocial relationships tend to go, and he would never want to scare you off. Somehow, one way or another, you end up sharing a class with Idia.
Now, he was fully planning to hide in the corner throughout the lesson… but you sat in front of him. Slipping your phone out of your pocket, before booting up… a game. He’ll never normally make the first move, but the moment he saw his favourite game pop up on your screen, a hesitant sentence slipped right off his tongue.
“I play that game too.”
Beaming at him, you spin around. Clutching your phone in your hands, excited to find another game enjoyer in the same class. You asked some friendly questions about what character he played, how far along the quests was he, and other gameplay related questions.
Idia had fun, discussing the game with you. Talking all the way until the teacher walked in and gave both of you a nasty glare. You slid right back around, but not before scribbling something quick onto Idia’s palm.
You wink at him, before folding up his fingers into a fist. Once your back was turned, Idia couldn’t help unclenching it to take a peek.
Your friend ID code, scribbled out in your favourite colour on his hand. Ending with a cute little heart. Great Seven, you were adorable.
Guess he’ll have to actually be serious about this game, for once.
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the-modern-typewriter · 6 months
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Hi ♥️ can I please request a small snippet which starts with the hero offering themselves to the villain instead of another victim (which was the intention of villain all along). I really love the powerful villain - struggling hero dynamic. Doesn’t need to be in a romantic way…
Sorry if this is oddly specific. Thank you so much for all your stories and snippets so far. They’re sooo good!!! ✨
The hero dodged into the villain's path.
The villain stopped. They looked down, at the hero's palms planted firmly on their chest, then to the hero's eyes.
The hero gulped. They dropped their hands, but didn't step aside.
"Take me instead."
"You." Power crackled off the villain; enough to make the hair on the hero's arms stand on end.
"I'm more valuable," the hero said, holding the villain's gaze. Their heart drummed wildly. "People would pay an awful lot of money for a go at me - you don't need them. I'm a much better ransom."
"And if I don't take you?" the villain asked.
"I'm also more fun."
The villain's lip curled. "And if I don't take you?"
Well, then they would have to fight. The hero was not remotely looking forward to that prospect. It wasn't that they couldn't hold their own - they knew perfectly well that they were generally considered one of the few people who could, when it came to the dazzling monstrosity before them. But, well.
The hero gulped again, squaring their shoulders. Their hands shot, gently, gently, to the villain's chest when the villain began to sidestep them.
The villain's head tilted.
The hero didn't drop their hands that time.
The villain's heartbeat was perfectly steady.
"I'm offering," the hero said.
The curl of the villain's lip sharped a fraction more; a scrap of paper burning up on a fire, containing all the world's most dangerous secrets. "Is that what you're doing right now?"
"Please," the hero said, quieter, just for the two of them.
"Maybe I don't want to ransom you," the villain said, in the same intimate murmur. Their eyes glittered in the city lights. "Maybe I'd rather keep you all to myself."
The hero's stomach swooped. "Just leave them alone."
"You're a predictable little thing, you know that?"
Realisation hit the hero, like the loud click of a lock turning. It didn't make any difference though. Wasn't that the point? To see the trap closing. To stand there anyway. It was already too late.
The hero had known that the villain could be persuaded to take them instead. The villain had known they would offer.
"So are you," the hero said, mouth dry. "In your way."
"My predictability doesn't make me lose." The villain's hand rose up, to cradle the hero's jaw. Their thumb grazed over the hero's skittering pulse. "It doesn't make me so reckless."
The hero shivered.
"There are power-blocking cuffs in my pocket," the villain said. "Take them out."
"You promise you'll leave everyone else alone?"
"You trust me to keep my promises?"
Yes. Not because of any particular honour, but because one did not get the devil's reputation for threats and bargains without proper follow through. "Promise me. Please."
"I promise that I'll leave them alone in this matter if I can have you instead."
It didn't save everyone and everything, the hero knew that. But it would spare the poor fool cowering behind them, braced for the end of all things. They reached into the villain's pocket like one might reach into a nest of vipers.
"Put them on," the villain said.
The hero did. Everything went muffled and sluggish as the auto-lock engaged. The villain's grip on their jaw kept them from crumbling, pitching forward, at the wave of overwhelming weakness that flooded them.
They could vaguely hear gasps, cries of alarm, hissed whispers behind them. Someone might have screamed 'no.' Someone might have been held back. The hero wasn't sure; they could feel their vision tunnelling a little at the edges.
They still held the villain's gaze.
"Good," the villain murmured. They pressed a kiss to the hero's forehead. Then they let go, abruptly.
The hero staggered. They hit their knees with a groan.
Powerless. It struck them that they'd made a terrible mistake. They hadn't expected it to feel like that.
The villain surveyed the crowd, for a beat. They said something - the hero's ears were ringing, they weren't sure what it was. The villain's fingers tangled idly into the hero's hair, then they started walking.
Being dragged hurt. The humiliation of it would have surely hurt, too, if the hero could concentrate on it.
The villain's car beeped it as it unlocked. They let go of the hero's hair. The hero slumped to the ground, reeling.
"Get in the car," the villain said. "Or I'll put you in the boot."
It seemed to take Herculean effort to climb into the passenger seat. It was almost a relief to slump there, sweat beading their forehead, body aching.
The villain got in too, on the driver's side. They took a moment to look the hero over. The power of them had always seemed enormous, but it felt like something else entirely then without the hero's own to match it. A devastating, crushing weight. An unstoppable force.
The villain reached over and clipped the hero's seatbelt in place. They cupped the hero's cheek again, drawing their attention, their scattershot focus.
"Leaving them alone was the least of the promises you should have insisted on," the villain said. "You panicked. You should know better."
The hero groaned again. Their head lilted into the soothing cup of the villain's fingers.
The villain let go, once more, left them bereft, and started the car.
They drove.
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egcdeath · 1 year
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spectator sport
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pairing: joel miller x reader
summary: you and joel are the most competitive parents in your daughters’ soccer league. as it turns out, it’s not so easy being enemies when your daughters become best friends.
word count: 4.8k
warnings: canon divergent (no apocalypse yay!), rivals(?) to lovers, they don’t really like each other at the start but they also kinda do?, fluff, realizing feelings, domestic moments, yearning, allusions to a divorce 
author’s note: tlou is an angsty masterpiece, but sometimes all i want is a little lighthearted fun. is this the most in character thing?? no! is it more fun to imagine malewife joel in a world without cordyceps? well… you tell me ;) 
part two / series masterlist
“You got it, Chlo,” you cheered from behind a spray painted white line on a cleat-beaten grassy field. You balled your fists as you anxiously watched your daughter chase after the ball with a ferocity, herding it closer and closer towards the goal.
Your daughter had always had a passion for soccer, having watched professional matches with her father since the moment she could comprehend the game, and playing as soon as she could walk. Chloe had leaned even further into the sport following you and your ex-husband’s somewhat messy divorce, which left you in charge of bringing her to practices on Tuesdays, and games on Thursdays. It wasn’t like you minded much, you were always happy to support your daughter in whatever brought her joy. 
“Pass it! Pass it!” a loud, masculine voice interjected as the man next to you shouted at your daughter. 
Joel was not exactly your favorite parent on the team. While most of the parents enjoyed his presence, with his oddly wise advice for the girls and vocal support of the team (it also helped that he was quite easy on the eyes), something about the man had always thrown you off. Maybe it was his stubborn demeanor, or the way that he found a way to argue with you during every single game, without fail. 
Now, as far as soccer parents went, you weren’t the worst. You had your moments of snapping at a shitty referee after a particularly rough week at work, or possibly being a little too enthusiastic when something bad happened to the opposing team, but somehow Joel always managed to do or say something that provoked you just enough to go back and forth with him.
Chloe glanced over in his direction, briefly losing her footing in perfect time for a member of the opposing team to snatch the ball right out from under her. 
There was a collective groan from some of the more intense parents on your side, and you openly glared at them for indicating their disappointment with your daughter’s performance. But this wasn’t their fault. It was Joel’s.
“Great call out there,” you spat, shooting daggers in Joel’s direction as you took a few steps closer to where he was standing.
“Oh please,” you could practically hear the roll of his eyes in his words as he prepared to defend himself from your vitriol. “You think I wanted that to happen? I’m rooting for the whole team, not just my child.”
“I am not just rooting for my kid,” you delivered the statement a little too genuinely considering that the truth was probably closer to the opposite. “But you’re acting like you wouldn’t have felt the same way if it was your daughter.”
“I wouldn’t, ‘cause I understand that we’re probably gonna win,” Joel responded casually with a shrug of his shoulders. 
“Well, we would’ve had a much better shot at that if you weren’t so dead set on yelling shitty directions at the girls. Maybe leave that to their coach?”
“Hey, don’t curse! You’re forgetting there are kids around,” one of the fathers interjected, sounding far more offended than he needed to be. 
“Shut up, Mark,” you and Joel said at almost the same time, voices overlapping. Your little spats were yours and yours only, and you’d thought it was common knowledge by now not to interfere when any of the parents were getting into it—but especially with you two. 
As usual, your little back and forth seemed to go on and on. It had reached the point where you weren’t even really sure it had anything to do with the game as much as it had to do with the text you’d received from your ex just a few hours before the game, and whatever bullshit Joel had going on in his own life.
As much as you’d like to say you had self awareness, week after week the other parents shared knowing looks and snickered at your spectacle, yet being the laughing stock of the game didn’t deter either of you. 
This week’s argument was no different. 
To be quite honest, you hadn’t ever really paid attention to those who treated your spats as their mid-game entertainment. Right now, all you could think about was stupid Joel, shouting something stupid at your daughter, making her lose her focus, and miss out on a moment. 
Well, maybe you two had too much tunnel vision, as an uproar of cheers from your side pulled both of your attention from each other, and to the celebrating team on the field. Particularly, Chloe and Sarah high-fiving as they jogged away from the goal. 
Awkwardly the two of you clapped, cheering the names of your respective children. You didn’t miss the slight flush of red on Joel’s cheeks after missing the sight of his daughter working with yours to score, but you would be a liar if you didn’t admit that you felt the slightest hint of embarrassment too.
The game wrapped up soon after, with a quick discussion with the coach before the children were dismissed back to their families. As you waited for Chloe, you didn’t miss the newfound camaraderie between herself and Sarah, with the girls seemingly laughing at something as they made their way over to you. 
Despite whatever negative feelings you may have had towards Joel, you were always happy to see your daughter happy, and if that meant you may have to tolerate the father of her friend, maybe, just maybe, you would stop treating her games as an arena for your shouting matches.
——
As an involved parent, you were no stranger to school fundraisers. For the most part, you would enter a raffle and sit through a catered dinner as the school choir butchered school-appropriate songs, or purchase a handful of chocolate bars from whatever kid was knocking at your door. However, for this fundraiser, Chloe insisted that you volunteer. 
It was a simple bake sale occurring during school hours, and you had the day off. How bad could it really be?
Apparently, really bad. 
Just minutes after you arrived and began to set out the cash box and assorted baked goods, an unwelcome presence joined you, immediately bringing an uncomfortable tension into the atmosphere. If you knew when you signed up for this event that you would be working with Joel Miller, you could guarantee you wouldn’t have been so eager to register.
“Oh, hey,” you tensely acknowledged after a moment, glancing up at the man who was joining you, then back down at the bagged brownies in front of you.
“Hey,” he responded just a second too quickly, then went silent as he seemed to feel out the awkward tension in the room. After a few seconds of heavy silence that felt closer to an hour, he finally added, “Any ways can I help out?” 
Joel gestured to the table where you’d been organizing some of the baked goods. “Is there a method to your madness? Or just…” he trailed off awkwardly. 
It was obvious that he hadn’t expected to be working with you, likely not enthused to be spending a good portion of the day in such close proximity with someone he clearly did not like being around. The situation was almost comical—spending hours in a school with someone that you weren’t sure you could spend five minutes with without breaking into explicit argument. Obviously it would be inappropriate to argue with him in this setting, so you reasoned that for the duration of your shift, you could at least attempt to be cordial.
“Uh, they just want us to keep twenty items out at a time,” you shrugged. You could be cordial. You could just give Joel instructions, then only interact with him when need be. “And to keep gluten free items in this basket. Other than that, everything is set up. The first lunch period’s in about a half hour, so we won’t have much to do until then.”
“Got it,” Joel nodded, pulling out a rather squeaky chair before taking a seat next to you. 
The following few minutes could only be described as painfully awkward. You could cut the tension with a knife as you attempted to scroll nonchalantly on your phone, and Joel uncomfortably rubbed his hands on his jeans. This was going to be a long afternoon.
“So, what made you decide to help out today?” he asked out of the blue, drawing your attention away from your phone and over to his face.
Okay, you could handle small talk without getting into an argument. Besides, it’s not like you had anything to argue about. And to be frank, were your arguments really ever anything of substance? Sure, sometimes you both had done something slightly annoying or antagonistic, but your arguments never really felt that serious. 
“Chloe knew I had the day off and pretty enthusiastically suggested I come help,” you shrugged as almost a means to shake some of your nerves out. “How about you?”
“Pretty similar on my end. Sarah thought it would be a great idea for me to come in today and help out.” Joel looked at you, then back down at his watch, as if he didn’t want to maintain eye contact for too long. 
What a strange coincidence. Both of your daughters suggest you come to their school and work together on something.
You bit back whatever emotion it was involuntarily forming on your lips as it occurred to you that there was not a chance in Hell that this was accidental. Sarah and Chloe seemed to be quite close—you rarely heard a story that didn’t involve Sarah these days—and it was not unlike your daughter to plot schemes to try to fix relationships, a trait you and your ex-husband know a little too well. Clever, clever girls.
“What are the odds this was on purpose?” you asked, finally not restraining your entertainment by this whole situation. How ridiculous. And ironic. How ridiculously ironic. 
“I’m gonna go out on a limb and say quite high,” Joel pressed his lips together and shook his head to himself. 
And while you’d rather have your child just communicate to you that you’re embarrassing her at games, or that she would prefer you to be at the very least amicable with her new best friend’s father, at the end of the day you couldn’t really blame her for pulling off an elaborate plot. Besides, your feud with Joel was silly and unnecessary, and part of you had always wondered if you hadn’t spent so much time arguing with him, if you two would actually get along. 
“If they did plan this, which they most certainly did, we have some smart kids,” you chuckled softly. “And maybe for the sake of them, we can attempt to be… friendly?”
Joel nodded slowly, “I can do friendly.”
A truce. Although the tension between you could still be cut with a knife, it felt nice to agree at the very least not to start a war at the little table. 
”Can we really blame them for setting us up?” you pondered aloud, “I mean, who would want their best friend’s parents to be enemies?”
“We’re enemies?” Joel asked with a lift of his brow.
“Well,” you paused. You weren’t really enemies. Despite all of the heated arguments, more times than not, Joel provided you a pretty safe outlet to vent your feelings without many repercussions. “Maybe… rivals?”
Joel shrugged, “Maybe. I know for certain I don’t see you as an enemy. Although, I apologize if I ever made you feel that way.”
Was Joel… apologizing? First, working together with the man, and now an apology. Maybe you should’ve gone and visited your psychic after all, with the unpredictable way your week was turning out. 
“I’m sorry,” he admitted, sounding quite genuine. You still weren’t completely sure that this was some weird joke, or that you’d woken up in a parallel dimension. “For always stirring the pot during games. It’s really quite-“
“Joel, it’s really not an issue,” earnestly and without a thought you interrupted the apologetic man, not wanting him to feel the guilt of being solely responsible for your little tussles. “I don’t take anything you say during games seriously. But I also want to apologize. It’s probably not the best to find little things to argue about every week.”
“I just wanted to be clear that I don’t hate you or anything,” he emphasized.
“Well I don’t want you to think I hate you either. If we’re being honest, it’s been pretty nice to be able to inconsequentially blow off steam every now and then. If anything, you’re doing me a favor.”
The corners of his lips turned up and into the slightest smile at your admission, and suddenly it had felt as if a weight had lifted off of your shoulders, and a bit more of the tension had dissolved in the room. 
“No hard feelings?” he offered. 
“None. Maybe the opposite,” you teased.
“Well, you know what they say about love and hate…”
“Now that may be a step too far.”
As it turned out, you and Joel made a pretty efficient bake sale team. Joel helped the kids pick out their baked goods, and you cashed the kids out. Sure, it wasn’t the most complex operation, but it felt nice to be in such a comfortable rhythm, especially considering the majority of your professional work you did alone. 
By the end of your shift, you were far less displeased with your situation. In fact, one might even say that you enjoyed spending your afternoon at the sale with your daughter’s best friend’s father. Maybe Chloe and Sarah’s plot to force you together wasn’t so terrible after all. 
Maybe Joel wasn’t so terrible after all.
——-
Every year, Autumn means one thing in your town: the annual fall festival.
It was honestly impressive the way that the entire community would go all out to put on such a large event in order to adequately honor the season, although part of you was convinced that the whole weekend-long event was an excuse for kids and adults alike to indulge in candy apples and Oreo turkeys and show off unnaturally large pumpkins. 
This year was no different, and as tradition, you and Chloe hauled yourselves down to the festival. It just happened to be your luck that as you were exiting the car, a pickup truck pulling into a parking space caught Chloe’s attention. 
“It’s Sarah!” your daughter informed you, practically skipping over to the vehicle. You followed after your daughter (who just so happened to be much faster than you) as she pulled her friend into a hug the very moment she popped out of the car. 
Joel hopped out as well, glancing at your children who already seemed to be walking off towards the fair, then back to you.
“How are you?” he asked, fidgeting with his keys as he put them into his pocket. It was clear that despite deciding not to feud anymore, things were still a little fresh and weird between you two. 
“Good, good,” you trailed off, nodding slowly as you slipped your hands into your own pockets and began to follow the two girls. Somehow, Joel ended up walking next to you as you trailed behind your daughters, and a light tension filled the air. 
Despite feeling slightly more comfortable with him after your shift together at the bake sale, it was clear that there was still some strange awkward energy between you two. After all, you had only made amends around a week ago, and prior to that, the majority of your interactions had included some sort of verbal altercation.
Walking into the fair, you maintained a less-than-comfortable silence as your daughters chatted and led the way to the field, filled with booths and stations as far as your eye could see. 
After a bit of aimless walking around, Chloe suggested a stop at a cornhole station. Watching your respective children play from the sidelines, you couldn’t help but crack a smile at the pure, unadulterated joy coming from your daughter as her and Sarah bantered with each other and tossed little bean bags. After ending with a tie, the pair began to walk away from where they were standing before pausing in front of you and Joel.
“You guys should play!” Sarah suggested enthusiastically, looking up at her father with an animated look in her eyes. 
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Joel trailed off and glanced at you as if he wanted to check how you were feeling on the matter. 
Sure, you didn’t have the upper body strength of someone who did construction for a living, but you were confident in your ability to kick some ass at corn hole. 
“C’mon, mom. And you too, Joel. It’s fun! It’ll be fun!” Chloe, ever the instigator, egged you on. 
“Alright, alright, since you insist,” you played up your reluctance, but happily accepted the red beanbags your daughter offered you. “It’s on, Miller,” you said as you approached the boards. 
“Just you wait,” he shot back, matching the overconfident, cocky persona you’d seemed to put on. “Before I embarrass you, I’ll be polite and let you go first.”
“How kind,” you playfully rolled your eyes, but focused long enough to toss the pack not too hard and not too light, and it slid on the board before landing in the hole. “What was that about embarrassing myself?”
Heckling Joel was unsurprisingly quite easy, considering the majority of your interactions prior to the past week had consisted of taking blows at each other. What you didn’t expect was how naturally the banter between you flowed when both of you were able to acknowledge that what you were saying really wasn’t serious at all.
“I think that was called luck. You still have plenty of time to embarrass yourself,” Joel didn’t even miss a beat as he tossed his bean bag with ease, landing right into the hole.
You’d be lying if you said you weren’t impressed by his aim, and that your confidence hadn’t slightly faltered. For once in your life, it was possible that a man wasn’t over exaggerating his capabilities.
“Not bad, Joel,” you brushed his accomplishment off as you went to toss your next bag. This time, you weren’t so lucky, and your turn ended with your beanbag on the side of the board.
Chloe and Sarah dramatically reacted from the side, cheering or whooping whenever they saw fit. In a weird way, it was like your roles had been reversed. You and Joel were no longer the overenthusiastic spectators.
“What did I say? Luck,” Joel tutted. “Look, girls. I’ll show you how a real expert does it.”
Turning his back to you and the board, Joel attempted to toss his bag through the board, yet as he turned back around, he found it in the grass between your two boards. 
You, Sarah, and Chloe erupted into laughter at the irony of it all, so much so that Joel couldn’t even help but to join in. 
“Great job, ‘real expert’. Can you teach me your ways?”
You were somewhat stunned with the speed at which the ice had broken between you and Joel. Just a few minutes ago walking into the fair, you were nervous that the evening would be tense and awkward, yet here you were, teasing and laughing right along with each other.
Once your laughter subsided, you both tossed your last bags, with you making it in and Joel missing. After a gratuitous moment of celebration, Joel walked over to you and extended his hand for a handshake. You took up his offer, and firmly shook his hand. 
“Good job out there. You were a worthy opponent.”
“Thank you, Joel. I could say the same, but I won’t. Y’know, since you lost.”
This received a giggle from your kids as Joel abruptly dropped your hand, feigning offense. Maybe it had just been a long time since you’d received any physical affection at all, but the loss of his brief grip stirred something strange deep inside of you. 
Ew. No. 
You could barely tolerate this man a week ago. Sure, he wasn’t terrible to look at, and your daughter had seemed to take a liking to him, but you’d be remiss if you hadn’t thought about all of those charged arguments you’d had during soccer games. You had only just recently considered him to be anything more than a nuisance. 
“Where to next?” Joel asked, pulling you out of your head as the girls began to chatter and move in the direction of whatever booth had caught their eyes. 
That was a train of thought for another time. Maybe you’d let yourself think about it tonight night, as you attempt to fall asleep in a bed that’s far too big for one person and far too cold without someone else there. But not here, where the situation felt like a live wire, and a little too real for your liking. 
——
For the most part, Chloe’s soccer hobby took up more time than it gave you. The time it took going to practices, games, and tournaments quickly added up, on top of working an absurd amount to make sure that you could pay the mortgage and club fees on time and keep your child happy. The one exception to this general rule were team dinner nights—a night where you didn’t have to worry about spending an hour or two in the kitchen, giving you far more free time to do whatever you wanted.
This time around, Joel was hosting the dinner at his place. Clearly, Chloe was excited to be spending the evening at her closest friend’s home, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t the slightest bit curious to see what his place looked like.
And maybe, just maybe, you were the slightest bit excited to see Joel again. 
“Can we just go over early?” she requested as you checked the nearly done cookies in the oven. “Can I go over early to hang out with Sarah? Please?”
You practically could hear the puppy dog eyes in her voice, and when you looked over to her, she was indeed looking at you with a somewhat convincing sense of desperation. It was never easy for you to say no to your daughter, which she unfortunately knew. This time was no different. 
Sighing softly, you conceded, “have Sarah ask her dad if you can come by.”
Chloe cheered as she dashed off to the other room, seemingly reaching out to her friend who very quickly responded, as your daughter was back in just a few minutes with confirmation that she could come by any time. 
Quickly pulling the cookies out from the oven and throwing them into a container, you packed Chloe into the car, and hauled her over to her friend’s house. 
Chloe grabbed your Tupperware and skipped to the door, politely knocking and waiting patiently as you stayed seated in your car, just to make sure your daughter got in okay. As if she was awaiting Chloe’s arrival (and she most definitely was), Sarah pulled open the door the moment Chloe had put her knuckles to the door and welcomed her friend in. 
A somewhat muffled voice from inside called something out, leaving Sarah to relay it back to you: “Before you go, my dad wanted to know if you wanted to stop in for a drink?” she called out, just loud enough for you to hear from your open window.
Any other day, you would’ve said no. But for some reason, coming in and checking in just felt right today—so that was exactly what you did. It wasn’t like you and Joel weren’t in friendship territory with each other. 
While the girls ran off upstairs, you made your way to the kitchen to find a very stressed-looking Joel. He was in complete disarray as he checked the oven twice, then the fridge for something, then stirred something in a pot.
“Hey, you alright?” you asked right off the bat, setting down the container of cookies your daughter had given back to you onto his countertop. 
“Yeah, fine. Just didn’t think about how I was gonna cook all of this in time,” he moved away from the stovetop and towards a cupboard to grab you a glass. “Now what would you like to drink? I’ve got some coke, some juice, something a little stronger…?”
“Just water is fine,” you hummed, awkwardly standing by the counter. “Joel, do you want some help? You know, four hands are better than two. And I’m pretty competent when it comes to reading and following a recipe.”
“Please,” he barely let you finish speaking before he spoke, and desperation was practically dripping off his tone as he passed you a glass of water.
You weren’t sure you expected him to say yes, but you were somewhat surprised when he agreed anyway. He didn’t exactly seem like the type to accept help, let alone ask for it. Joel must’ve been even more stressed than you initially picked up on. 
“Of course. What would you like me to do?”
“Uh, if you could just cut up some of the fruit that would be great,” the man ran his hands through his hair as he approached the fridge once more.
You nodded and walked over to the cutting board where it was clear that Joel had begun to attempt cutting some fruit up, but had been interrupted by one of the many pots on the stovetop or dishes in the oven.
Although you didn’t necessarily envision your evening being spent in a frantic Joel Miller’s kitchen, you weren’t particularly mad at it. It didn’t take long for you two to fall into that easy collaborative rhythm that you seemed to always have when it came to working together. Maybe you weren’t too bad of a team after all. 
By the time the doorbell rang with the first family, you and Joel had just finished up, and your daughters had just about finished setting up the table in the dining room and on the patio. Taking you by surprise, Joel reached out for a high-five, which gave you a hearty laugh as the two of you tapped hands.
“I appreciate your help,” he remarked. “You saved my ass tonight.”
By all means, dinner was a success. Parents and children raved about how good everything was, and conversing with Joel and the other parents was surprisingly easy—despite you not noticing the knowing looks that a few of the more gossipy moms frequently shot each other. 
Luckily, a few families assisted in cleaning things up after dinner before heading out, cutting the time you’d need to spend helping with cleaning pretty significantly. As the night wound down, it came as no surprise when Chloe asked if she and Sarah could hang out for just a bit longer. It’s not like an extra hour would kill you, especially not when Joel was pulling out a bottle of white wine and suggesting sitting out on the patio in the pleasant Austin autumn weather. 
As you got settled into your seat, Joel poured you out a glass before pouring himself some. You sighed contentedly, happy with a rather pleasant evening, but tired from the stress of the day. 
“Thank you for helping me out. There’s no way in hell I could’ve done this without you,” he confessed, peering deeply into your eyes. He looked at you for just a moment too long, the attention bringing a warmth to your face.
“I’m always happy to help anyone,” you smiled shyly under the pressure of his intense look before taking a sip of your drink. “Well, maybe I wouldn’t be happy to help Amy. But I’m always happy to help you.”
“Well, I appreciate you,” Joel paused as he drank. “And I wouldn’t help Amy either.”
The two of you shared a little laugh before a rather comfortable silence filled the air. The two of you looked up at the sky, gazing at the stars that seemed to be shining a little more bright than usual.
“I’d like to repay you somehow,” Joel said, breaking the silence as he continued to keep his eyes fixed on the sky. 
“Mm, that’s not necessary,” you hummed. “Dinner was plenty. It was great, and Chloe and I will definitely be enjoying our leftovers.”
“It’s necessary to me,” Joel paused as if he was contemplating even saying the next words. “Would you let me take you out sometime?” 
It was clear that he was looking right at you, nervously anticipating your answer. 
You cracked a slight smile as you turned your head towards him, “That would be nice,” you nodded. “I think that would be really nice.”
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rigorwhoring · 1 month
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HANDHELD ANGEL
MDNI, leon kennedy x fem!reader
word count. 3.5k
cws. ageplay (mdlb), tooth-rotting fluff, blowjobs, handjobs, orgasm control, dom/sub dynamic, mentions of past trauma (raccoon city), hurt/comfort (but mostly comfort), leon cries during sex, tons of aftercare, teasing/edging, littlespace, use of pet names (sweet boy/sweetheart/baby), praise
note. this had me feeling sappy as hell lmao! kind of a breather from dark content? i thought re2r leon needed to be coddled a little after everything he went through, honestly! this was very fun to write, but admittedly v self-indulgent, lol. not proofread!
tagging @angelofwoe… have fun tweaking! :)
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November marks the fifth month of your relationship with Leon, and the second since he’s distanced himself.
Not physically. God, he’d never. No matter how distant he got, he couldn’t imagine waking up anywhere else but your embrace. But after September 30th, it got hard to imagine waking up anywhere at all. You saw it like you managed to see through everything — the way he cried his grief into his pillow instead of your arms. The fact that you’d learned of most of the incident through news reports and tasteless television. The way his breath would hitch a bit anytime you told him that you loved him.
Something in his chest compelled him to excuse your love. Maybe you loved him out of pity. Maybe it would weigh too heavily to leave a broken man, so you loved him to keep your hands clean and conscience satisfied. It wasn’t good enough that you loved him for his recycled puns or the heroism that had been so easily taken advantage of. To him, you were settling for a memory, and he didn’t want to think that you deserved that. You deserved the man he once was. The man you started dating. The man he would never be again.
You’d gotten with him in June. It was a hot day — oddly hot for midwestern June — and between classes at the academy, he always stopped at the coffee shop you managed. He finally managed to ask you out the day you repeated his order back to him. As if you hadn’t dropped hints within every interaction, tutting silently when they managed to soar far above his head. Things went slowly as you dated, initially — but once you two had realized how deeply you cared for one another, Embraces shifted gradually, from awkward and feathery to purposeful and affectionate.
But that was back then. Back when he was blond and optimistic. Sure, he was still blond — but it was starting to suit him less with each passing day. The light didn’t reach his eyes anymore. Not after Raccoon City. It was like he expected to see blood caked in his hair anytime he caught sight of his reflection. And, fuck, it hurt you, too.
Maybe that’s what led you to boot up his computer one day while yours was in disrepair, looking to buy him something — as if that would manage to alleviate the pain. But if a package would bring a single smile to his face, you’d be content. You missed his smile. Hell, you smiled at the thought of it, opening another page to keep it a surprise — not realizing that he had his own opened already, before you’d clicked.
Now, you knew what ageplay was — to an extent. And that was one hell of an extent. It had circled through a few of your fantasies, but you’d never put much gravity to it. Seemed impractical. Just taboo enough to make itself scarce in the real world. But not to your boyfriend, apparently. He had tabs upon tabs of forums open — never commented upon, never interacted with — of caregivers gushing over their littles, of littles praising their caregivers relentlessly. In an instant, you knew what drew him to it. That sort of unconditional love that he’d written off, assuming he no longer deserved it.
And you’d be long dead before you let that become your boyfriend’s reality.
He came home awfully late that night, like he’d managed to guess what you’d done. More likely, he’d stayed out against his will — poor guy had undereyes darker than you’d ever seen. Almost made you feel guilty, springing this onto him — but when would you get a better, guaranteed opportunity to offer him comfort?
You locked eyes with him for a second — the air was tense, sure, but you didn’t mind looking into those pretty blues for an extra moment. Better than stealing glances. You mustered a smile, pulling out a chair at the table. Needed to get used to doing little things like that. Thank God you engaged with just about every recognized love language. He sat down, raising an eyebrow in suspicion as you cleared your throat.
“Y’know how my computer fucked itself over the other day?” you asked rhetorically. Unambiguously, it had. Blue screen of death while you were trying to find cat videos to show him.
Leon chuckled at the profanity, squinting his eyes a little. Didn’t know where you were going with this. “Yeah?”
Shit. Now came the part where you couldn’t act too nonchalant. Your breath stiffened a little, and you straightened your back. “I, uh… I used yours today. You had a few pages open, and I saw ‘em. I didn’t… know you were into ageplay.”
The slight smile faded instantly, draining with the color in his face. His exhaustion stood out more prominently within a terrified expression — like his misery had been put on blast. Leon shook his head, panicking. “Baby, I swear, I can explain—“
You put a finger up to shush him, and he obeyed like a dog. You shook your head as he went quiet, movements controlled — unlike his. “Leon. I’m not mad. Not weirded out. I’m not gonna judge you for something like this.”
Not mad seemed to resonate well enough, and he took a deep breath with you — looking down low enough to make his blond hair fall over his face. Like a curtain, almost, if not for the side part. You stifled the urge to reach out and mess it up in a moment like this.
“I’m not mad,” you repeated softly. “You wanna try it out?”
He looked back up, cheeks flushed suddenly. “You’re… open to that?”
You nodded with another laugh, as if that should’ve been obvious about you. “‘Course I am. You know how much I love taking care of you, right?”
He cleared his throat, nodding slowly. “It’s not just that, though, there’s more that you might not like much,” he tried to play off the insecurity with a laugh. Silly. He knew that you could see through anything he did.
“I think I get the gist. I tried looking up some stuff about it. Sounds good to me,” you shrugged — like you were talking about the weather. Hell, he’d seen you use that shrug while you dismissed the fact it was going to rain before. He opened his mouth to protest again, to find some reason why you should find him disgusting — but you shushed him again, gently taking one of his hands in yours.
“Leon, I like the idea of this. You can be little around me. You deserve it.”
His eyes widened a little. You could see him making an effort to keep his jaw from going slack. “You… right now?”
You shrugged again. “Don’t see why not.”
Leon took a deep breath at that, letting his eyes flutter shut. Pretty lashes. They looked best dry, like this. Not darkened, adorned with tears. He let himself relax at the table — you shifted closer to him, bringing his head to your shoulder.
He looked up slowly, pressing a little kiss to your collarbone. “Can I, um… Can I call you mama?”
You smiled at the thought, nodding as you reached to ruffle his hair. He leaned into your touch, letting your hand cup the side of his head. “Mhm. That’s perfect, baby.”
For the rest of the night, he clung onto you — not unlike the way he used to. Followed you like a puppy, cuddled right up as you slept. Cheek flush against your heart. In two hours, you were smitten all over again at the prospect of caring for him.
——
You agreed to take it slow, at first. But pacing was a fickle thing, and by the end of the week, the apartment you shared had a circle of stuffies and a coffee table full of crayons. Wasn’t your fault, surely — you couldn’t help how much you loved the way his face brightened with excitement. And you weren’t about to blame him for spending a little more on something that made him happy.
Leon was a good boy when he was little. Seven whole days and he hadn’t broken a single rule — and, shit, you two had come up with a lot. The morning after he’d fessed up, you huddled with him around a sheet of paper, writing every rule that came to mind. Most of yours weren’t negotiable — stuff like no bad words and don’t talk bad about yourself. He went along with it, as long as you agreed to his terms regarding his stuffies. Buying him one of those manufactured little cars every week was the last concession. Kinky stuff had been 50/50. He’d been smiling like an idiot and trying to hide his face with every stroke of your pen.
But it’s not like you had tested it out, yet. He needed some time to adapt. Both of you did, right? Your sex life had taken a hit, come October — naturally.
You got off from work a little early, one night — a friend took your shift. You hadn’t protested. Nothing like seeing Leon early, especially the way his face beamed when you surprised him with just about anything. You’d picked up a penguin plushie on the way home, heading toward the bedroom — brow furrowing in concern when you heard a low whine.
You really had assumed that he’d been crying. Honest. You didn’t expect to open the door to your boyfriend palming his cock through his boxers, free hand clamped over his mouth. Seemed like he didn’t expect it, either, from the way he moved to cover himself with one of the blankets he’d insisted on surrounding himself with. You tutted at his shame, stepping forward and taking hold of the blanket. He pulled back, eyebrows furrowed in defiance.
“Let mama see,” you said, expression darkening — and he loosened his grip immediately. Protest was fun when he intended to lose, but when the prospect of your anger became real, he surrendered. Rolled over like a puppy. Didn’t feel alright until you seemed content, again.
You stood over him, tugging the blanket off of his body — feigning a gasp. “God, baby, it’s like you’ve forgotten everything…” you murmured, gently pressing your hand to the base of his clothed cock. His breath hitched, hips jumping to press into your hand. Anything for more friction, anything to soothe the ache you’d cause in the first place. Indirectly, sure — but that didn’t mean he wanted to take full responsibility for breaking one of the rules quite yet. You slid your hand away, tutting.
“Don’t you remember that you’re not allowed to touch yourself without mama’s permission?” you said, chest swelling at the sight of his submission. He nodded, not quite meeting your eyes. “Then why’d you do it, baby?”
He didn’t answer until you hovered directly over him, wrapping your fingers around him through the restrictive fabric of his boxers. Leon froze — torn between rutting into your hand or letting you take care of him. Like it was supposed to be. “Missed you,” he finally settled on, words slurring together. “Missed you a lot.”
“Yeah?” you raised an eyebrow, tugging down the elastic waistband. His cock bobbed onto his stomach, leaky tip smearing precum messily across his abdomen. He squirmed, overwhelmed by the cold air’s sudden onslaught against him. Well, the air was lukewarm. He’d just overstimulated himself enough for any change to feel significant.
“Mmh, good boy. Told me the truth. S’good for me, baby…” you hummed, gently running your index up one of the veins, slick with precum. His cock jumped at your touch, pressing into your hand involuntarily — until you pinned it back to his stomach by the tip, earning another one of those pretty whimpers. He reached over to the nightstand, gingerly adjusting a bear stuffie to face the wall, rather than him. Couldn’t have him witnessing this.
“Get used to this,” you chuckled. “You should’ve cum before mama came home. Better yet, you should’ve kept your pretty little hands to yourself,” you taunted, making your touches painfully scarce.
“Mama,” Leon whined, panting as your thumb ghosted over his slit, leaking precum down to the base of his cock. It twitched in your hand, despite your touch. Always so needy — jumping at the languid trace of your index and the smell of your perfume. “Mama, please, you can’t—“
“Can’t?” you held him a little closer. Felt him throb in the palm of your hand, so heavy and pretty for you. “Baby, this is a punishment, remember? Good boys don’t tell mama what to do. You wanna wait longer to cum?”
He shook his head, cheeks flushed, bucking his hips upward with each slight pump downward. His eyes glazed over in desperation, tears beading along his waterline each time your thumb made contact with his tip. “No, no, m’sorry—“
Your other hand gently kneaded the fat of his thigh, stroking him more consistently, now. “Shh, shh… s’alright, baby. Easy,” you reassured, rubbing little circles into his inner thigh with the pad of your thumb. “You’re still my good boy.”
It was like you handpicked a thought out of his head. For a moment, his shoulders relaxed in relief — till you gripped him hard enough to bring him back, a high whine forcing itself from his throat. His blue eyes glazed over slightly, trailing between each of your lips. You noticed in half a second.
“You’ve gotta ask if you want something,” you said, watching his brows knit together in thought.
“Can you… use your mouth, mama? Please?” he asked quickly, hiding his face like he’d committed a sin. He might as well have. Still, you didn’t reject that like he thought you would, tracing your hand from his thigh to his wrist. You opened your mouth, pressing his index to your tongue.
“Gonna need saliva for this, baby,” you said, voice muffled by his finger. He rubbed the surface of your tongue in circular motions with his thumb, index gently hooked onto your chin. Warm and wet enough to mesmerize him. Poor baby’s cock had gotten even leakier from your saliva, so you guided his hand out and your head down, kissing his tip gingerly.
It was almost cathartic, doing this with the intent of taking care of him. Your hands found their way back to his thighs, gently massaging as the airy kisses became kitten licks. Leon tried to keep still, tried to force any little whine that surfaced back down into his throat — so desperate to be pretty and content for you. You preferred when he was somewhere between heaven and orgasm. Simultaneously blissed out and desperate for more. But he took the time to compose himself for you, and you’d be damned if you didn’t force him to come undone for his efforts. His breath went shaky when you parted your wet lips around the drooling head, cock prodding uselessly against the roof of your mouth. At least this one stayed desperate.
You felt his fingertips intertwine with your hair as you worked him into your mouth, one inch at a time. Little made you gag, now — fortunately for him. Guys got off to that, you knew, but not him — not the sweetheart taking care not to pull your hair too hard. Not the cock you had bobbing against the end of your tongue. Precum readily replaced by your spit. Leon groaned softly, dissolving into a higher tone as you pressed your tongue flush against him. Just as warm as he’d assumed.
His stifled groans progressed to open-mouthed whines, rocking his hips benignly against your lips. Benignly at first. The second you gave his waist a little pat, he was fucking your mouth with the fervor he’d used to grace your cunt with. Probably still would, needy little thing. You reveled in his desperation, heat clamping your thighs together when you felt him twitch against your cheek.
“Ask mama to cum,” you said, abruptly releasing his cock from your mouth with a pop. He whined, eyes wet with desperation as his hips stuttered forward. Too much desperation to protest against you now.
“Please— Please, mama,” he choked out, whimpering as he squirmed beneath you, throbbing madly against your bottom lip. “Please lemme…”
He cut himself off — unfortunately for you, Leon didn’t get too dumb when he was little. If he’d fallen for your trap and said the word cum, you would’ve used it against him. Edged him for a while longer, overstimulated him a bit. But he was a good boy for you, so you granted him his orgasm. Before you could blink, he cried out in long-awaited relief, cumming thick ropes down your throat. He held your head for a moment, trembling something fierce. Tried his best to catch his breath, un-glaze his eyes.
You finally sat up, feeling a surge of pride at the sight of his tears — at first. You’d fucked your boy so good, he couldn’t help but cry out in desperation. Reduced him to a whiny mess, just from your mouth. Hell, just your hand, too: Why wouldn’t you feel proud?
Your satisfaction was snuffed when he didn’t stop crying post-orgasm. Shifted from a euphoric gasp to that low cry he only allowed himself when he thought you were asleep next to him. Your brows knitted in natural concern. In half a second, your hands found his back, pulling him flush against you.
“Baby,” you started, second hand finding its way to the back of his blond hair, “talk to me.”
He took a shaky breath, hesitating. He hated the fact that he’d let himself cry in front of you. Hated the fact that now, his baggage was your responsibility, just ‘cause he couldn’t handle it. Hated the fact that a perfect woman was wasted on someone like him. Littlespace often meant that such vocabulary failed him, so he settled on one sentence: “Don’t deserve you.”
He regretted it in an instant — never wanted to see your face soften in concern like that. He hid his face when you pulled back to look him in his watery eyes. Your hand cupped his cheek, thumb grazing the tears along his cheekbone as you shook your head. “No, Leon. You deserve me. You deserve all of this — we’ve both earned it.”
You frowned when he kept hiding his pretty face from you. “Look at me,” you commanded softly, and he did — forcing back the lump in his throat with every second you cupped his face. Made him want to melt in your arms, open himself for you. Seeing the tears cling to his lashes made your entire chest hurt. “What’s our first rule?”
Leon swallowed heavily, stifling the urge to look away. “M’not allowed to talk bad about myself,” he mumbled. You nodded — and fuck, his heart swelled at the validation alone.
“That’s right, sweet boy. I love you more than you love that blue marker you drained in half a week. Love you more than you love all of your stuffies, combined,” you said, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Love you more than Raccoon City could ever take away.”
That broke him. He sobbed freely into the crook of your neck, clinging onto the scent of your perfume for comfort. Some mix of gratitude and abysmal self-worth. You rocked him for a moment, frowning when you noticed how sticky he still was from getting fucked. You sat up, hand finding his as you pulled him into the bathroom.
“Can’t have my baby sleeping like that,” you chuckled, turning on the water. You looked to him as you adjusted the temperature, until he quietly pointed to a warm one — and then to the bottle of soap on the side of the tub. As if you’d forget — in a time like this, bubbles were mandatory. A necessity, even.
Soon enough, you’d both adjusted comfortably into the bath’s warmth — pulling him close enough to feel his heartbeat against your ribcage. The pride rushed back when you felt it calm, gently massaging shampoo into his hair. Going over any of the spots you’d managed to redden on his skin. Using warm water to brush away the sticky, dried tears on his cheeks and neck. Every moment you held him in the bath, the urge to cry died down a little more. Leon was slowly starting to accept that he was yours. That you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Love you, mama,” he mumbled into your chest. “Love you more’n anything.”
Rubbing little circles into his back, you lowered your voice, shifting into a comforting hum as his eyelids grew heavy. “I love you too, sweet boy.”
493 notes · View notes
alderaana · 11 months
Text
pretty, pretty girl.
leon kennedy is your older brother's best friend, you're freshly eighteen.
nsfw, p-v, virgin reader, slightly older leon. please wrap it before you tap it.
Your birthday was highly anticipated. Finally legal, so many opportunities that have opened up to you. Your parents had showered you with gifts all day, leading up to your party tonight.
"Happy birthday sis, here's a little something from me."
Your brother smiles, handing you a medium wrapped box. You smile, tearing the package as he leans up against the wall to watch you.
"Oh my god- Danny you seriously didn't.."
You were met with a signed slipknot shirt, all of the current members had signed it...
"i jumped through hoops for that so you better love it."
Your brother laughs as you engulf him in a huge hug.
"Thank you so much, seriously this is amazing."
"Don't sweat it kid, you made it to the border of adulthood."
You smile, admiring the shirt and thanking your brother again. making your way upstairs, you glance over your notifications of all of your friends wishing you happy birthday.
You place the shirt on your desk, admiring it fully before hearing your parents call you downstairs.
"coming!"
The stairs are stiff as you run down them, finding your parents in the kitchen.
"Hey birthday girl! your party is going to start soon, we wanted to know if you had a time for the family to leave and it just be us and your friends?"
You nod.
"Can it be around 8? I think that will be enough time for grandma and grandpa since the party starts at three."
"Sounds great. well help round them up around eight then."
Your mom smiles as your dad opens his phone, presumably to let the family that was coming know. you had a bunch of your friends coming over to spend the night for your birthday.
---
Your family all came pouring into your living room, holding gifts as you and your parents greeted them. Soon after your friends were doing the same.
The party was fun, but oddly overstimulating. There are so many people in your house which wasn't common at all. When it came time for cake, everyone gathered around as you stared at the Sicilian cheesecake with a candle sat in front of you.  The tension was high in your brain as everyone serenades you for your occasion.
The candles flicker out as you blew them out, the sounds of cheers as you did so. A good amount of "you made it!" and "you're getting so grown" were thrown towards you as everyone cut their slice out. You smiled at everyone, enjoying your cake.
Presents were the most exciting yet nervous time of the night. Lots of money made its way into your hands, your friends gifting you lots of casually sexual things which you would laugh with them about later.
"Thank you all so much, seriously. I am so grateful."
Your smile seals your sentiment as your family all gather around to take a picture with you. a momentum for the scrapbook, you finally being legal.
"Alright, it's getting late you all."
Your mother pipes in, silently hinting for everyone to roll out so you could spend just one on one time with your friends.  Everyone wishes you one last time as they roll out slowly, some help pick up and take some food from dinner home.
Your mother sighs as she shuts the door, turning back to you and your friends.
"Alright girls. we'll leave you alone now, don't go too crazy."
Both of your parents head upstairs, leaving you with your friends.
"So what now hm?"
Jess pipes in, giggling with everyone else.
"I honestly don't know. my family was kind of exhausting."
You say, rubbing your eyes as you turn the tv on.
"Do you guys want to watch a movie?"
"Let's just listen to music, you'll pass out if you watch a movie."
Madi says laughing, grabbing the remote and putting on a party playlist.
"Yeah come on, it's your birthday let's make the day last!"
You laugh, shaking your head as they make you stand up, encouraging you to dance with them.
"You guys are insane, fine."
You dance with them, letting yourself enjoy it as they turn the lights off. The TV being the only illumination as you danced more with them. Madi grabs your sides, giggling as she dances up against you. You all laughing as Jess takes pictures, both of you posing stupidly as the music plays louder.
"Hey! turn that down. mom and dad are asleep."
Your brother says from the bottom of the stairs, laughing at all of you.
"Sorry Danny, guess we just got a bit carried away."
Your friends laugh and hum in agreement.
"Well, either way I had to get something from downstairs and it was way too loud coming out of my bedroom."
You laugh, watching your brother head towards the front door, assuming he's getting something from his car.
Unfortunately, you were wrong. he opened the door and you were met with his best friend holding a present. The man was wearing a leather jacket, his hair slightly damp as it was pouring rain outside.
"Am i late to the party?"
You freeze, your friends being confused. He smirks as he with one arm goes in for a hug and pat on the back with your brother.
"Sorry, i totally forgot to tell you Leon was coming over sis."
You shakily laugh as you regain your composure.
"No it's fine, and no you aren't late at all."
Leon walks up to you, handing you the gift.
"Good, this is for you kiddo."
"You seriously didn't have to Leon."
You admire the packaging, its decorated with black sleek wrapping paper, a red bow decorating the top.
"C'mon, open it."
Your friends sit up, looking at you as you awkwardly look down at it. Your hands slowly unwrap the present, treating it as if it was a bomb in your hands.
Inside the box was a bomber jacket, black with gold embroidery on the back that made into a moth.
"Holy shit Leon. where the fuck did you get this?"
He laughs, happy with your reaction. You smile wide as you throw it on, it fits exactly how you wanted it to.
"Looks perfect on you."
A blush creeps over your face as you surge forward, hugging Leon tightly. he's caught off guard, slowly hugging you back.
"She doesn't even hug me, and my gift was better!"
Your brother says, laughing in shock. Leon looks over at him, laughing lightly as you break the hug.
"The slipknot shirt was just as good Danny, I just don't want to touch you. you reek of old spice and Leon doesn't."
You and your friends laugh, Leon trying not to join as your brother's face looks jokingly offended.
"Okay, you're lucky it's your birthday or I seriously would have went there."
He points at you menacingly as you laugh.
"Alright, i'm going to hang out with Danny now."
He ruffles your hair.
"Happy birthday again."
Leon smiles as he heads upstairs with your brother.
"Dude your brother's friend is hot."
Jess whispers, you glaring her down.
"I fucking know. and he's always been hot..." you sigh, Madi and Jess looking at eachother in glances.
"so what's stopping you now?"
Madi asks, searching for your answer. The idea was in your mind, especially with the way he hugged you back. He was always someone you crushed on, ever since Leon and Danny started being friends. that was five years ago, but you never let it really control you. He always seemed like someone out of reach even if you tried. for god's sake he's 23, and you're freshly 18.
"Uhh..."
You look down, shyly shuffling your feet.
"Because he's way older you guys. he's 23 just like Danny."
Madi laughs, "and?"
You scoff.
"That's a bit of difference.... i don't know you guys."
Your friends look at you like you said something outlandishly stupid.
"Dude... even if he doesn't seem interested i would try and go for it."
"You guys are being bad influences cmon.."
"Bad influences?? with the way that man looks? no we definitely aren't."
You sigh, sitting down in between them.
"Dude, just go upstairs and find a lame excuse to be in Danny's room."
It wasn't a bad idea, there were several things you could go into his room for. Asking if he had an empty laundry basket, keys to his car because you left something in his car, etc...
"Okay well let's go to my room and think about this more."
Madi claps excitedly, "yes let's make tonight us helping you out as wingwomen." Jess smiles and nods, all of you heading upstairs to your room. which uncomfortably was next to Danny's. Footsteps were soft as everyone heads into your room. Madi plopping onto your bed as Jess sits in the chair for your desk. You close the door and look back at them, who both share the biggest shit eating grin.
"Guys come on... don't look at me like that."
"Okay, so what if you go in there and ask if Danny can heat up some of the food from dinner.” 
You deadpan Jess. 
“What.. i’m hungry it’s not like you’re lying.”
Sighing, you nod and make your way out of the room. Stopping at the closed door to your brother’s room. You could hear them laughing, playing some sort of video game. You suck in deeply and open the door, being met with Leon sprawled out on the bed watching your brother play some game. They both turn towards you, and notice Leon wearing a black tee that fit him extremely well. 
“Danny can you heat up some of the food for my friends and we’re hungry again.”
He looks annoyed as he shakes his head. 
“Can’t you do it yourself? It’s literally so simple.”
“Yeah but it’s my birthday and i won’t put that on my friends.”
Danny gets up, visibly annoyed and loudly sighs. 
“Fine.”
Leon laughs, watching Danny leave the room.
“He was in the middle of a match, but good job making him get up.”
You nervously lean up against the doorway, smiling at Leon.
“You should see him when you’re not around.”
Leon props himself onto his elbows, making direct eye contact with you.
“Oh believe me, i’ve known him so long i hear about it every single time now.”
You scoff, jokingly holding your chest.
“Wow. what a brother.”
You admire Leon as he laughs, his legs spread apart and his sweatpants fit exactly how you want them to. 
“Cmon, you know Danny. How surprised can you be.”
You giggle back, nodding in agreement. 
“I guess you’re right.”
You bite your lip gently, focusing on the floor for a second before deciding to be bold. 
“So Danny told me you’ve been enjoying your federal job? How is that going?”
He sits up more, now on the edge of the bed. His elbows propped on his knees as he looks up at you. 
“It’s alright. I make the money i want to, and i’d like to say i’m pretty good at what I do.”
You gently nod, shifting against the doorway. 
“You don’t come around as often because of it.. I noticed that. Danny did too.”
He smiles, looking at his hand.
“You pay attention to that?”
His tone gets flirty, and a little stern. It catches you off guard.
“Well…. Don’t say it like that..”
He stands up, getting closer as you start to internally panic.
“Oh i know it’s exactly like that.”
He leans closer, his hand running underneath your chin forcing you to make eye contact with him. You couldn’t feel air in your lungs as you stare into his gaze, him smirking slightly as he towers over you. 
“I’m going to check on Danny, we can talk about this later birthday girl.”
Leon chuckles, walking past you and going downstairs. You couldn’t feel your face as you try and calm your breath. What the fuck?
You walk into your room, being met with two faces of anticipation.
“Well?”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Danny has food ready downstairs, let's go.”
You turn around, walking down the stairs as your friends lightly tap your shoulder unspokenly asking what happened. 
You avoid eye contact as Danny hands you a plate of food, sitting on the couch. Your friends thanking Danny. You focus on your food until Leon sits near you on the couch. They had made themselves a plate as well, but the silence was killing everyone. Your phone buzzes underneath your leg.
Jess: dude WHAT happened…… it’s so awkward? Did it go badly? 
You look up, glaring Jess down from your end of the couch. 
“I think i’m just going to eat in my room, you coming le?”
Danny asks, waiting for Leon.
“Nah, i’ll finish then come up.”
“Yeah we might do the same Danny.”
Your friends follow Danny upstairs with their plates, leaving you and Leon alone. Fuck. your phone vibrates again.
Madi: this is for your own good 
You sigh, throwing your phone down and trying to just focus on your food. 
“Your friends know what they’re doing, huh?”
Leon laughs, standing up and putting his plate in the dishwasher. He makes his way over to you, grabbing your empty plate and doing the same. You try to get up and make a run for upstairs but Leon stops you before you can even think about it. 
“You’re so pretty when you’re nervous….. I love it.” 
He holds eye contact with you, and all you can do is lightly gulp unsure of how to react. 
“L-Leon what are you doing”
He grabs your wrist, standing up and forcing your chest against his.
“Don’t play fucking dumb.”
You try to free his grip, but he already was so much stronger than you. His free hand comes to run through your hair, tucking it behind your ear.
“Pretty, pretty girl.” 
His hand comes underneath your chin again, bringing it to his face as he lays a gentle kiss to yours. You catch yourself kissing back, his hand slowly letting go of your wrist. You could feel your heart rate going through the roof, his hand catching your lower back. 
“Leon…”
“Your brother is going to notice me being gone for so long.”
He smirks, letting go of you and heading upstairs. Again, what the fuck?
You stand there for a moment, realizing that this was the second time he had left you in that position now. Why was he treating you this way? He was just calling you kiddo earlier. My god. You grab your phone, heading upstairs and finding your friends. 
“Seriously guys. That was fucked up.”
More confused looks. 
“What even happened?”
You sigh, throwing yourself onto your bed. As you speak, you zone out at the ceiling. 
“He kissed me, then just left.”
They both jump up, trying to not squeal since he was literally in the room next to theirs. 
“Dude… you’re in!!!”
“I don’t even know… he just left me so fucking confused.”
“Oh shut up. Do you think he’ll take your virginity?? Oh my god. Jess, we need to sleep in the guest room.”
Madi exclaims to Jess, causing you to roll over and scream into your pillow. 
“Guys! Stopppp.”
You try not to smile, but you definitely weren’t good at it. You were just okay with kissing him, but losing your virginity? That was a dream come true.
“You know what… It is getting late.” 
Jess smugly smiles at Madi, who nods in agreement. 
“Yeah. it is.. Guess we will have to sleep in the guest bedroom now.”
They both get up, starting to grab their things. You can’t even stop them as by the time you could even argue they were out of your room.
“Oh my god. They just fucking bailed on me. This is not fair.”
You get up, sighing as you turn your light off. You could hear Danny lightly snoring as you laid down in bed. You open your phone up, texting Jess and Madi that they were dicks but that you loved them at the same time. You scroll on social media, before getting up to use the bathroom.
The hallway was dark, and you stumble around until you open the bathroom door. After finishing your business you wash your hands, admiring yourself in the mirror before drying your hands and heading back to your bedroom. 
As soon as you close your door, you turn around to find Leon sitting on your bed. 
“Your friends ditched you.”
He spoke in a whisper, but you could still hear how smug he was about it. 
“What are you doing in here-”
Leon pulls you towards him, you stare down at him. The only thing illuminating the both of you was your lamp on your desk. 
“Finishing what I started, that’s all.”
“And what is that, Leon?”
He trails his hands up and down your sides, his hands slightly underneath the bottom of your shirt. 
“So beautiful.”
He breathes out, his hands trailing farther up your shirt. You put your hands on his chest, subtly stopping him. 
“Leon, if you’re fucking with me. It’s obviously working. Is this some dare Danny made you do? Because that is low.” 
He pulls you into his lap, causing you to gasp in surprise as he holds your back.
“Danny would kill me if he caught us like this, so no.”
He smiles, watching your face determine and realize what’s happening. He cups your face with his other hand, kissing you again. Leon’s hand on your back lowers, cupping your ass. You moan into the kiss which encourages Leon even more. He grabs your ass, his hips pressing into you. The kiss deepens, and you can feel his boner underneath you.
“Fuck.”
He breathes out, admiring your face as you stare right back at him. You catch yourself sitting up, straddling him better. His hands meet your hips encouraging you to keep doing what you were doing. You lean down, kissing Leon harder as his hips press up slightly from the contact.
You run your fingers through his hair, then cupping the side of his face. Leon is an amazing kisser, he really knows how to take the lead. His tongue moved perfectly against yours, biting on his lower lip caused him to grip your hips harder. 
“Let me take care of you…. It’s your birthday.”
Before you can respond, he flips you onto your back. He leans over you, kissing slowly down your neck as he bites and licks small hickeys onto it. You whine which causes him to slowly grind into you. You can feel yourself getting wetter at the attention. His hand comes up, cupping your boob as he kisses more into your neck.
“Leon please..”
He perks up, a smirk on his face.
“Please what, princess?”
You blush, feeling yourself heat up as your core throbs at the pet name. He looks down at your shirt. 
“Let’s take this off. Is that what you want?”
You nod shyly, letting Leon help you out of your shirt. His breath hitches at your lace bra, obviously not expecting that. He leans in and kisses you harder, excited over the new exposure of skin. 
“So beautiful baby… going to make you feel so good I promise..”
Leon breathes out, kissing your neck again and trailing down to your boobs. You grab his hair, lightly moaning as he leaves darker hickeys on your tits. You grab at the bottom of his shirt, silently asking for him to take his off as well. 
“Yeah? Alright baby….”
He leans up, taking his shirt off. His body was insane… You knew he went to the gym but he was built. You catch yourself staring before Leon leans down again. You feel along his back as he kisses you, his hips starting to grind against you again. You whimper into his lips, causing him to smirk into the kisses. Leon’s hand trails down to the waistband of your pants. 
“Do you want this?”
You blush at the question, starting to slightly tremble at the excitement. 
“Yes Leon..”
“Ill be gentle, just for you baby.”
He smiles, sitting up to pull your pants off. His breath hitches as he realizes your panties match your bra, causing his dick to jump a little. He tosses your pants onto the floor, laying further down, spreading your legs. You can’t stop trembling as you watch him. His broad shoulders hold your legs as his arms hold your thighs. He looks up at you, smiling. He taps your thigh with his finger, silently saying it’s okay. You calm down, giving Leon the leeway to start. 
His hand trails over your clit, admiring the underwear. He slowly pulls it to the side, admiring how beautiful you are. 
“Oh my god..”
You feel Leon sigh onto your pussy, the bed slightly moving from Leon grinding into the mattress. He gently feels your entrance, admiring the slick you’ve produced. He licks his fingers, slightly whining at the taste. 
“Mmnmmm. Are you ready?”
You nod, still nervous. He slowly peppers kisses around your thighs, finally latching onto your clit. You whine, trying to be quiet. He smiles against you, licking up and down. He enjoyed the taste, letting his finger tease your entrance as he focused on your clit with his tongue. You arch your back and press yourself against his face. He loves all of it. The way you already are breaking out into a sweat because of him.
“L’Leon..”
You grab his hair slightly, causing his pace to speed up. His fingers slowly dipping into you more. You can already feel your orgasm building up. His smirk is imprinted into your clit as he eats you out. You feel your legs spread farther, but Leon stops that very quickly. Leon’s fingers quicken alongside his tongue, your orgasm almost there.
“Leon please… im going to …. Please fuck fuck fuck..”
“Come on babygirl… let me taste it.”
That sends you over the edge, you can feel him moan into your pussy as you clench around his fingers. Your grip on his hair not helping. You try and catch your breath, Leon pulling his fingers out and his tongue laps up your cum.
“So good…. You did so good princess.”
You cover your face in embarrassment, which isn’t for long as Leon pulls your hands out of your face to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his tongue, him moaning into the kiss. You trail your hand down to feel his hard on. Which causes him to moan into the kiss more. 
“Please Leon….. Fuck me.”
He smiles, petting your hair again. He nods, taking his sweats off leaving him in his boxers. You pull him into you, feeling his boner against your core. He takes you in for a kiss again, grinding into you fully this time. You’re shaking with anticipation again, moaning at the friction. Leon tugs at your underwear, slowly pulling them off for you. 
He then motions you to sit up, helping you pull your bra off. His eyes latch onto your bare tits, admiring how perfect they were. You lay back again, watching as Leon pulls his boxers down. His dick springs free, precum leaking. He was huge. You internally panicked, and he picked up on that. 
“It’s okay, we can go slow unless you want to stop.”
“No. it’s okay, it’s just my first time.”
His dick twitches at that, causing Leon to smile.
“Is it? I'm going to set a high expectation then.” 
You blush, trying to look away. He grabs your face, kissing you as you feel his tip brush against your entrance. You grind into him, both of you moaning at the contact. 
“If you keep doing that i will fuck the shit out of you baby.”
You apologize, which causes Leon to laugh. 
“So cute.”
He sits up, pushing your thighs to your chest. He grabs his dick, gathering your slick onto his dick. He quietly groans at the sensation. He lines himself up and looks at you again.
“Ready?” 
You shyly nod. He pushes in slowly, letting you adjust to him. You well up with tears, trying not to cry. You feel how much he stretches you, glad he prepped you beforehand. 
“Shhh.. shhh. It’s okay. You can take it. Fuck you’re so tight”
Leon wipes your tears away, giving you gentle kisses as he pushes more and more into you. 
“Doing so good for me baby…. Look at you. Take me so well, especially for your first time.”
He kisses your neck, almost bottoming out now. You feel yourself wince as he does, glad it finally was over. Leon kisses you again, trying to help ease you. It works, it really helps you relax, his hand running through your hair. You start to clench around Leon, feeling yourself at ease.
“Fuck….. So tight… I don't think I'll last..”
Leon sighs into your skin, slowly pulling out. The feeling making you whimper as he pulls almost all the way out before slowly pushing back in. This causes a low moan from Leon and a whimper from you.
“Oh my god.”
He bites your neck to prevent himself from moaning loudly as he repeatedly slowly pulls out and pushes in. Both of you in pure bliss as he does so. 
“Are you doing okay princess?”
You nod, feeling yourself moan as he holds your thighs to your chest, starting to pick up his speed. 
“God i’m trying so hard to be gentle but you feel so fucking amazing.”
“You can go faster I- i can take it.”
You grab at his back, then your other hand holding the nape of his neck as he picks up his speed. 
“So fucking beautiful… look at you. This pussy is perfect.”
He leans down, sucking your nipple and pinching the other. The sound of his thrusts starts to get louder. Leon didn’t care, he was way too busy with how amazing you were to care about anyone else in the house. You can feel yourself tighten as he goes harder. He sits up, his hands digging into your thighs as he starts to go as fast as he can into you. You’re moaning as quietly as you can now but he’s practically hitting your cervix with how hard and fast he was going. 
Leon’s face scrunches, enjoying the way you feel around him. You can feel your orgasm building up which causes you to whine. Leon whimpers as he feels you pulse around him.
“Baby i’m about to cum inside of you if you keep doing that.”
Your back arches.
“Please cum in me Leon please..”
You feel him speed up even more.
“Yeah? Going to fuck myself into you… fill this pussy up.. Make you mine. You are mine. After this. Going to cum inside my princess’s pussy real hard for her.”
You can feel how he’s about to, which sends you into your orgasm. Your head is thrown back into the pillow, feeling your walls pulse around him as he releases into your pussy. His pace is still the same, slowing down as he makes sure he cums every last drop into you. You catch your breath as Leon collapses on top of you. You hold onto his back, and the back of his head.
“Fuck Leon..”
He laughs into the skin of your neck, still inside of you. 
“Was it good for your first time?”
“That was perfect.”
He kisses your neck, moving up to kiss your cheek. Petting your hair, he admires your face and smiles. Leon sits up, slowly pulling out of you. He watches as his cum slowly leaks out of you, a big smile on his face. 
“Let me clean you up, pretty girl.”
He stands up, finding a towel from your laundry and helping clean you up. Leon then pulls his clothes on, searching for yours and helping you get dressed. 
“Please don’t leave this time Leon.”
He smiles at you, admiring how pretty you truly are.
“I wasn’t even planning on it, babygirl.”
He lays down, pulling the covers over the both of you. Letting yourself fall asleep, you enjoy Leon's big arms cradling you as he cuddles into your neck. 
3K notes · View notes
imperihoe-writes · 25 days
Note
heyyy i’m new to your blog but so far your stuff is SO GOOD!! if you take requests i was wondering if you could write something with simon riley where fem!reader is insecure about her hips but he loves them and wants to show her?? if not that’s completely fine and you can just ignore this ☺️☺️
A Hundred Reasons
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Simon 'Ghost' Riley / curvy!Reader
Content:  civilian girlfriend, established relationship, domestic, body insecurities, Simon has a little bit of a filthy mouth your honor -> not for minors
Word Count:   1.7k
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You’re quite good at hiding your insecurities, so Simon didn’t notice it at first. 
The way you sometimes subtly squirmed out of his grasp when he grabbed your hips, or slid his arm around your waist or lower whenever he was peering over your shoulder to have a look at what you were cooking. 
But Simon is a clever man, and he soon catches onto the fact that something is off. 
It had taken you two quite a while to be fully comfortable with each other, or that’s what he had assumed. 
He was comfortable. He loved and trusted you and every inch of your gorgeous body, so it stung him to see you distance yourself sometimes - but Simon also wasn’t going to intrude into your personal space if you didn’t want it.
But you caught his sulky expression one fine Sunday morning, when the early spring sun came streaming through your floor to ceiling livingroom windows. You were wiping down the sliding glass door that led out into the charming garden while he was hauling sacks of compost and soil over to the raised beds. 
Gotta find a hobby for after, he’d said. 
Simon’s career was everything to him, or at least it had been until he met you. Now, there was more he dreamed of whenever he thought of the future: a house (check), wife (soon to be checked if he found the right ring), maybe even kids or a couple dogs (he was working on both).  But that future didn’t have a lot of room for work that required him to be away for months at a time, and subsequently hide away Simon in favor of Ghost. 
Oddly, he didn’t mind it all that much. He had expected to be more hesitant, to feel apprehension over the prospect of resigning, but all he could think of was your warm smile and the way your presence managed to lock his past into a box with no intention of re-opening it any time soon. 
The problem with civilian life was the transition from being active all the time to idly sitting at home. Going to the gym was fun but it didn’t satisfy his soul, wasn’t enough to occupy him. So now he was working on the mentioned after, of finding something he found joy in and could focus on when the shadows stretched a little too far in the corners of his mind.
After semi-successfully trying out both fishing and quadbiking, he had set his eyes on gardening. It was calming, physical, and he’d have something to show for his efforts if everything went well. You’d encouraged him, smiling that sweet smile of yours that he loved so dearly - and now you shamelessly oggled him as Simon slung bag over bag over his shoulder. 
That’s how he caught you, standing by the window with your cloth still in hand. Doe-eyed and beautiful. He grinned. It made the scar over his lip and chin stretch, crinkled his eyes and you grinned back, blushing and shrugging in a so what? way. 
Simon dumped the compost onto the ground, pulled off his heavy-duty gloves and came sauntering over. Gravel crunched under his boots, and the look in his eyes made your knees weak and heart race. He was so handsome, so strong and confident. Sweat ran down his neck as he climbed the two steps up onto the veranda.
“Alright, luv?” He asked, cocky as he tilted his head down towards you. Simon leaned against the frame of the sliding door with one arm, and you wanted to tell him to be mindful of his dirty forearms since you had just cleaned that, but your mouth went a little dry with the way his biceps flexed. 
“Yeah, just enjoying my view,” you croaked back, lips twitching at the way he preened. 
“That so?” It was just a murmur. He slid his arm around you, hand sliding along your lower back as he tugged you close. 
Your body reflexively stiffened when his fingers curled over your hip, even as Simon pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your neck. 
All you could concentrate on was the fact that he could surely feel every little dip and curve, wondered if he’d one day be put off by it. He was so fit, and it made you insecure to think that he surely had encountered many women in his line of work that had perfectly muscular bodies just like him. Not soft and curvaceous, hips and thighs a struggle when buying new jeans.
Simon noticed, just like he always did these days. He stilled, then withdrew his arm. 
You caught his sulking expression before it was wiped off his face a second later, with him straightening up to his full height again. 
“Si-“ you started, voice careful and embarrassed. How could you put into words what the problem was, without drawing his attention to your insecurities? Maybe he’d never seen your body in the way you had, but once you mentioned it, there would be no way he’d see you how he had before, was there?
“‘s okay,” he said, tone neutral and a slight smile on his face that didn’t reach his eyes. Simon slid his hand into the nape of your neck, pulled you up towards him and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You want lunch?”
Nodding, you bit your lip as he turned towards the kitchen and left you standing in the warm rays of rare English sunshine. 
Once you were sure that he couldn’t see you anymore, you thumped your head against the very same spot he’d just leaned against. His expression was still stuck in the forefront of your mind, how unguarded and disappointed he’d looked. But it didn’t seem to be directed towards you, never you. Guilt and embarrassment warred within you, but then you gritted your teeth and came to a decision.
If Simon Riley could open up about his bloody past to you, you could tell him about… anything, surely. You had to and could trust him with everything, you knew that. Deep down. It didn’t make it easier.
Stomping over to the kitchen, you hesitated only a moment before closing the distance between you two. He was slicing tomatoes at the counter as you slid your arms around his middle, hands resting on his chest from behind and face pressed into his broad back. Clearly a little startled, Simon stopped what he was doing, placing one of his massive hands over where yours were bunched into his slightly sweaty t-shirt.
“What-“ he started, but you barreled over him, pushing out the words like they were a toxin you had to get rid of as quickly as possible.
“It’s not you, Si.”
He was quiet for a moment, then hummed.
“I think I missed some vital part of our conversation, doll.”
You huffed out a breath.
“It’s not that I don’t want you to touch me,” you ground out, face burning and infinitely thankful that he was turned away. When he twitched, you tightened your grip, locking him in. “I just don’t like my hips.”
Saying it out loud was as uncomfortable as you had imagined it would be.
Simon was quiet for such a long time, that your mind started racing. God, he really had never considered you that closely, had he? He’d start to notice now, as much as you did every day when you looked into the mirror and-
“Is that it?” He asked, sounding surprised and a little exasperated. 
You released him. He turned towards you slightly, gazing down at you over his shoulder. Chocolate eyes searching yours, softening when Simon saw the hurt simmering inside you. You couldn’t help it though, when it felt like he was dismissing your biggest insecurity.
Simon slowly wiped his hands on a kitchen towel nearby, then turned around. The intensity of his gaze almost made you back away, but you still crossed your arms in front of your chest, as though to shield yourself.
“Yes,” you replied shortly, a little icy. “That’s it.”
“And-“ he started, leaning closer as his hands gripped the edges of the kitchen island behind you on each side of your waist. “Why don’t you like them? They look real fuckin’ sexy from where I’m standing.” 
Your throat closed up, face burning at the earnest admiration in his tone. At the way his eyes travelled down your form. When you didn’t answer, Simon cocked his head.
“Could probably give you a hundred reasons why I love your hips.”
You turned your head away, unable to meet his eyes any longer, embarrassment coloring your face. 
“Wan’ me to start?” He asked, voice barely above a dark purr as his nose brushed over your heated cheek. Before you could protest, he already pressed a kiss to the soft skin and continued. 
“Drives me crazy when your little skirts and shorts cling to ‘em.”
Another kiss, a little lower. Your breath hitched.
“Love it when you fall asleep and I can feel all of you pressed against me.”
Damn it, you loved that, too. He trailed his lips over your jaw, the stubble on his chin slightly scratchy. Heart racing, you started to lean towards him - like a bunny caught in the lair of a fox, unable to do anything but press their ears flat. His mouth pulled into that cocky smirk again, you could feel it even with your eyes closed.
“Gives me something to grab onto when I pull you down onto my c-“
“Simon!” You squeaked, scandalised. He laughed, low and relieved. Like a heavy weight had lifted off of him. Suddenly, his hands were on your hips again, fully engulfing them with his long fingers from both sides as he hauled you against his chest. 
You didn’t freeze up this time, too flustered to even think about what you felt like underneath his fingertips.
He kissed you properly this time, bending you backwards a little until you slung your arms around his shoulders and neck. You had to stand on your tiptoes, and one of his hands slid lower, grabbing a handful of ass. 
“Only way you could look better than you do right now is spread out on this counter,” he whispered against your swollen lips. “Don’ want you to ever doubt that, luv. Understand?”
A heartbeat passed, then you nodded, hiding your smiling face against his neck.
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Dear anon, thank you so much for this request and all your kind words! I loved writing for him as always! x
My other COD writing can be found in this masterlist, as well as my shorter COD headcanons. 🫶🏻
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liliansun · 1 year
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FREE TRIAL WEDDING STYLE | L. DONGHYUCK
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synopsis: when a random, cute, guy comes up to you and practically asks for you to follow along, you do so without much thought. that is until you get home and see he’s your new neighbor who just might need your help a little more than you expected.
pairing: fake-bf/new neighbor!haechan x oc
wc: 10.6k
genre: fluff, comedy, fake dating au, slice of life (?), wedding au
warnings: warnings, kissing, all that fun jazz (lmk if I miss any)
mentions of: 127, dream and wayv members, mention of aespa members
<3: special thanks to ash and briar for literally just beta reading anything I ask them to and for just being the best friends I ever could’ve asked for, they’re the real og besties and I love you guys sm 🫶
PART TWO: FIRST ANNIVERSARY
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Looking up at the boy in front of you who seemed desperate for you to follow along, you clear your throat as you shift your eyes to his friends. “Um, I thought I told you I was coming here on break.” Awkwardly trying to come up with the right words, the boy watches as you look panicked and takes the seat in front of you. “It must’ve not gone through, babe.” He said, reaching across the table to place his hand over yours. You glared at him, making him immediately retract his hand and laugh it off as he rubbed the back of his neck.
“We’re out Haechan, text us when you’re gonna meet up.” One of the guys from what you can only assume was his friend group said as he got up and gathered his belongings. “What- wait I still wanna come.” The boy, who you just learned is Haechan, whined as he immediately stood up from his seat when his friends made way for the door. “Dude you’re here with your girl, catch up later.” The boy with blue hair gave him a knowing look which caused the boy, Haechan, to pout. “Actually, I was about to go back to work anyway because- yeah, so um it’s nice seeing you, honey?”
Haechan can see how uncomfortable you are and simply nodded as you grabbed your belongings. He walked beside you, making your way to the door before you two part ways. To his surprise, you go off in the opposite direction than him and his friends, not saying another word about the shit show you had to endure.
After the awkward encounter back at the cafe, you went back to work and tried to pretend it never happened. Rubbing your eye with the palm of your hand, you don’t get a good look at whoever joined in the elevator when it stopped midway to your designated floor. Too caught up in the oddly comforting feeling of rubbing the stress and sleepiness from your eye, you lean back with both eyes closed. “Didn’t get enough sleep?” You recognize the voice, humming as you let out a yawn.
“Why didn’t you take a nap on break?” You roll your head toward the voice, opening your eyes to see Jaehyun giving you a knowing look. “I had lunch away from the office and I’m honestly starting to regret it.” The ding of the elevator signals you to get off on your floor. Jaehyun follows behind, slipping his hands into his pockets. “What happened, did you try some weird new restaurant again because if you spend the next 30 minutes away from the desk again I’m gonna shred your computer.”
You furrow your brows, whipping around on your heels to point a finger into his chest. “It’s not my fault, okay, last time I tried that cheap fusion food truck and it gave me food poisoning.” Shuttering, you try to block out the memory of the last time you went away from the office for lunch which cost you a bill from the hospital and toiletries to keep you at bay. “Plus this wasn’t anything that happened with the food, this guy..I don’t know it was weird and I just wanna forget about it.”
“Suit yourself, but don’t be calling for me when your stomach starts to churn.” He says, walking away from you to enter the main office area. You sigh, running your fingers through your hair as you slip between the crowded area till you get to your own desk. Plopping down in your seat, your eyes immediately look at the brightly colored sticky note left by your senior editor. Snatching it from the base of your computer, you groan while crumbling it in your hand. “Someone’s sour today I see.”
“Maybe if Kim Jungwoo didn’t leave cryptic messages at my desk when I’m not there instead of telling me when I’m actually in the office then I wouldn’t want to bash his pretty face in.” Karina smiles at you, leaning against your desk as she watches you throw away the note into a bin. “Do I even want to know what that was all about?” You roll your head towards her, shaking your head before refocusing on the emails you missed. “Gotcha, speaking of pretty faces, Jae told me you met a boy at lunch.”
“How did he tell you that when we literally just got in?”
“He has a big mouth for such a quiet man.” Nodding along, you start to click through emails, sorting through which ones are important and which ones can be pushed back till you get home. “So.”
“So?” Karina smiled at you, leaning towards you as she wiggled her finger. “Don’t play dumb y/n, tell me about the boy!” Rolling your eyes, you shrug her off and go back to what you were doing before. “Uh uh, don’t do that, tell me pretty please? I mean when’s the last time you had a boy to talk about since your douchebag of an ex.” Fighting back a frown, Karina notices how stiff you get and gently rubs your arm. “I’m sorry, I know it’s still fresh.”
With a heavy sigh, you turn your chair towards her. “That’s the thing, it’s been two years and I still can’t seem to get over him or even mention him.” She continues rubbing your arm, knowing all too well how messy your breakup with your ex was. “I really can’t say much about him though, the guy I mean.” She nods, letting you know she’s listening. “He’s cute, I’ll give him that, kinda baby faced in a mature way if that makes sense and he seems almost childlike with the guys he was with but in the moment he was more desperate than anything.”
She smiles, playing with the ends of your hair. “Sounds like you like him.” You give her a twisted look, shaking your head at the thoughts you could only imagine that were starting to play out in her head. “No, uh uh no ma’am, don’t give me that look I literally just met him.” She props herself up on your desk, swinging her legs as her smile widens at your sudden defensiveness on the subject. “Karina, I promise you, he literally came up to me and pretended like we were dating! What kind of guy does that?”
Raising her eyebrows, she leans back on her palms. “Only the desperate boys who wanna slip your skirt d-“ The sound of a loud clearing of the throat caught both of your attentions. Looking at who was standing in the entryway to your small desk space, you see a very unimpressed Taeyong. “I’m not gonna ask what you two are giggling about,” he throws his hands up, wiggling his fingers with one while the other shakes around a manila envelope in the other, “But this is for you sent directly from Doyoung.” With a fake smile, you take the envelope that he ever so kindly handed over, snickering as he left off back to whatever he had found before.
“I hate to see what you did in your past life, karma is a bitch to you.” When your face deadpans, Karina throws her head back in a fit of laughter. You slap at her legs with the envelope, whining as she finds humor in your torture. “I don’t get why Doyoung always sends me the most complicated stuff, like I’m not the only person on the floor.” Putting emphasis on his name, you make a mental note to not get such a nice gift like you do each year for Christmas exchange. And if you’re wondering, yes you do get him a separate gift every year because you simply can. I mean, who wouldn’t, it’s Doyoung.
“Maybe because you’re one of the best editors on the floor.” Smiling, you lean back in your chair while tossing the envelope beside your keyboard. “You always know what to say to me.” Hopping off your desk, Karina flattens out the front of her pants before placing both hands on her hips. “Yeah yeah, work your magic and I’ll see you later.” You wave her off, facing your laptop with no intent on working on the pile of stuff in front of you.
After many excruciating hours sitting in your chair, you read the time and quickly gather your things to head home. You catch a cab to your tiny apartment, dragging yourself up the stairs in hopes you’ll actually make it to your bed before the mental exhaustion takes its toll. Reaching the top of the stairs, you see the door across from yours wide open. “I guess they found someone to fill the room.” You mutter to yourself, slinging your purse over your arm that doesn’t seem to stop sliding down.
As you’re putting your keys into your door, you hear scuffling behind you. “Oh hey neighbor.” Turning around, you meet eyes with the person you literally thought you’d never see again. “Oh, it’s you.” Haechan seemed taken aback, offended to his core when he gasped as he held his chest. “Nice to see you again, too.” If this was your final straw, your 13th reason, you’d probably let the world swallow you hole right on your doorstep and not bat an eye, but knowing Jungwoo he’d still find a way to drag you back to work in the morning.
“Sorry, I’m just too tired and honestly don’t even want to have this conversation.”
“What conversation are we not having?” You can’t tell if he’s genuinely confused and doesn’t recognize you, which only hurts a little, or if he’s just that pretty and that dumb. Maybe a combination of both to soothe your ego a little. “Y’know what- never mind, goodnight, neighbor.” You finally turn the key, unlocking your door and slipping into your lonely apartment. Dropping the bag by the door, you toss your shoes off and convince yourself a hot shower would wash this day away.
And it does, for the most part. Maybe it’s because you shampooed your hair and you feel ten times more clean or maybe it’s because hot water seems to cure every bad mood you had before you got into the shower. Now, you’re hungry and all you want is something warm and to snuggle with your cat till your dreadful alarm takes you away from your sleep. You’re in the kitchen, drying your hair with a towel when you hear a knock at your door. And another and another.
Your only guess as to who it could be was Karina, maybe she and her boyfriend got into a fight again and she wanted to blow off some steam at your place. You go to open the door, being met with a very sheepish looking Haechan who can tell your mood dropped a little at his presence. “What.”
“Okay, firstly ouch, is that any way how you treat a neighbor? I mean I just moved in tod-“
“I’m giving you five more seconds to tell me what you want or I’m shutting the dam-“
“Okay okay fine, uh, can I maybe, possibly just sorta hang out?” Maybe Karina was right, maybe this was your punishment for whatever fucked up thing you did in your past life and now you have to endlessly suffer as if you’re made of steal. Well news flash universe, you’re not, now lay off. “You’re kidding, right?” When his eyes drop down to his hands that he was anxiously rubbing together, you let out a sigh before stepping aside.
He looked up, his eyes almost bright as he looks into yours. “Come in before I change my mind.” Once he stepped inside, you expected him to sit quietly on your couch and do whatever he thought he was gonna do when he got in, but you were far from that reality. The quiet, almost shy, boy who you just so happened to meet twice in one day completely came out of his shell and is now sitting across from you on your floor while sharing a separate bowl of soup.
“So why did you name your cat peanut?” The pet in question, or conversation, came from the hallway and walked around rubbing his body against various things in your living room. “Because my brother is allergic to peanuts and peanut hated him so it seemed fitting.” He smiles, content with your answer as she moves his spoon around in the bowl. “You’re a bad host, you know?” With a mouth full of soup, you chew the contents with furrowed brows. He came to your door, invaded your space, is eating your soup and dares to call you a bad host?
“Excuse me, but you’re the one who came up to me at the cafe and practically forced me into going along with your story!” He scoffs, setting his bowl down in his lap while pointing his spoon at you. “You’re the one who went along with it, look where that got you.” You narrow your eyes, trying to weigh your options on what’s the best way to commit homicide. “Wait-what—why are you even in here again?”
“Well, see now that’s a good question.” His sudden change in demeanor was weird. He suddenly seemed nervous, shifting in his spot as he avoided your gaze. “I actually, uh, have something to propose. Well, more like ask a question if you will, it’s really interchangeable honestly.”
He mirrors you, watching you with hopeful eyes as you start shaking your head. “Oh no, uh uh, don’t even say it.” He hurries behind you, pouting as he watches you set your near empty bowl in the sink. “I didn’t even say anything yet.” You turn around, holding your arms out to prevent him getting any closer. “No, but I know what you’re gonna ask and I’m not—no!” Haechan tries to speak, being interrupted when you shh him. You walk past him when he puts his bowl besides yours, speed walking down your hallway to your room.
“Y/n, don’t leave me in here alone.” God he sounded so whiny, it’s kinda cute if you’re honest, but that’s more of a random thought than a compliment for now. “Wait- how did you know my name?” Turning on your heel, the two of you stop midway in your hallway. “The landlord told me, he said if I ever needed anything to ask my neighbor and I currently am in need!” You turn back, trying to block him out as you enter your room and desperately climb into your bed.
Haechan stands at the entrance of your room, pouting when you reach for your laptop beside your bed. “Do you know how insane this is, I mean we just met today and then you just so happened to move in across from me and now you’re in my apartment, practically in my room,” you take in a deep breath, laughing it out as you open the device in your lap, “and I already feel like I know what you’re gonna ask me and it’s so fucking insane.”
Haechan doesn’t say anything, looking at you with an awkward smile. If you knew him, you’d think he was enjoying this, but that’s the thing is that you didn’t know him. “I know this is crazy and you might try to call the cops, but just hear me out.” You scrunch your nose, staring at him from across the room with crossed arms. “Remember the guys I was with earlier right, they’ve kinda been on me about being in a relationship and in a panic, I saw you and yeah the rest you pretty much know.”
“Do you know how pathetic that sounds, to use a random stranger as a decoy for your love, or lack of, life.” He looks taken aback, almost hurt at your brutal honesty and it leaves a slightly bad taste in your mouth. “Look, I’m sorry for that and almost as sorry as the situation your friends put you in.” He shrugs, running his hands through his hair as he opts to sit against your doorframe. There’s an uncomfortable silence that settles between the two of you, both not entirely sure what to say next and not sure on what to even begin to say to make it better.
You stare at the unopened files on your screen, mentally weighing your options and trying to decide whether to kick him out and potentially file a restraining order or to give him a chance, both seem like they’ll end up in flames honestly. “Look, I’ve seen way too many drama shows and I have a feeling on how this is supposed to go—it may be because I’m sleep deprived or how sad you’re looking right now, but I’ll think about it.”
His face lit up, hope filling his eyes with a certain kind of sparkle that made you feel worse if you’re being honest. “I knew it was a good decision to move here, I just knew it.” He mumbled to himself, smiling as he got up from your floor and brushed himself off. “I’ve got work to do, but we’ll talk tomorrow..I guess?” Nodding, Haechan gave you a salute which made you laugh before turning on his heels and disappearing into the darkness of your hallway. You let out a breath, a breath you didn’t know you were holding and lean against your pillows trying to figure out what you just signed up for.
Just as you start clicking on files, Haechan comes running back to your door. “You should probably lock the door.”
“Oh yeah, that’s a good idea.” Pushing your laptop aside, you get up from your bed and follow behind him.
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The days following your very awkward and yet unclear agreement, you would only see Haechan in the hallway when one of you was leaving as the other was just getting in. That talk you were supposed to have, yeah that never actually happened due to your sudden pileup of work that occupied your time. Just have you been all week, you were currently sitting on your couch with your laptop occupying the space on your lap as you wait for your takeout order. You’re about three-fourths of the way done with what you’re working on when you hear a knock at your door.
Setting the device aside, you get up and go to answer it with your wallet in hand. When you open the door, much to your surprise, you see a very awkward Haechan holding your bags of takeout. “You sure do order a lot of food for one person.” Raising one brow, you reflect the smile he was giving you. “And who said I didn’t have company over?” You step aside, letting him come in and he does just so. After making his way towards your couch, he sets the bags down on the table in the center. You stop to think as you close the door how comfortable he seems when he barely knows you and has only been in your apartment one other time.
“If you did, I probably would’ve heard because, you know, the whole being neighbors thing.”
“Oh so you’re stalking me now?” He rolls his eyes at your comment, plopping down at the end of your couch. “You wish you got that much attention, don’t you.” You grab the nearest thing, good thing for him that it was a pillow, and throw it across the couch—directly hitting him in the head.
“Now that’s enough for a restraining order!”
“Please, if you didn’t wanna be near me then why’d you come to my door?” Haechan got silent, looking down at his hands while you sat back in your spot and started unpacking the food. “That got real deep real fast.” The sound of his chuckle made you smile, making sure to lay out the food across the table for the both of you. Silently, he leaned forward and started to fill up his bowl with toppings of his choice. Both of you started munching down, occasionally setting your food aside to continue your work. “What are you working on?” He asked, leaning into your side to peak over your shoulder.
“Our contract for this unrequited love.”
“Haha, very funny.” Haechan’s sarcastic tone and expression to match made you snicker as you finished up on your report and sent it off to Jungwoo for review. “Just some final notes for an article.” He nods, seeming content with your answer. “That’s not a bad idea though.” When you turn towards him, confusion evident on your face, Haechan then elaborates. “I mean the contract or at least some rules to this,” he motioned his hand between the two of you, “because I can’t tell if you can tell, but I’m desperate as hell.”
“Brownie points for rhyming.”
If you could see whatever went through his head when you said that, you probably would’ve enjoyed it just as much as seeing him throw his head into his hands. “Okay, in all seriousness how are we supposed to do this—I mean we don’t know one another and I’m not very sure I can trust a guy who still plays Michael Jackson till three am.”
Throwing his hands up, Haechan looked both offended and taken aback by your sudden forwardness. ”Firstly, don’t talk about the king like that, he’s a classic and everyone should be blasting his music the way I do, secondly I get where you’re coming from.”
Over the next two hours, the two of you talked about yourselves to help one another get more of an insight of your personalities, laugh at poorly made jokes and eat your way through cheap takeout food. After all that, you two moved on to why he approached you and the reason behind his need for a girlfriend. “So you’re telling me that the tall one,”
“Johnny.”
“Right, Johnny, is getting married and he kept pressuring you get a date for the wedding and instead of telling him you didn’t have one you made up a girl who doesn’t exist and when the one with blue hair,”
“Mark.”
“Yes, Mark, pointed me out as your imaginary girlfriend, you had no other choice, but to approach me and hope I’d play along?”
Haechan took a deep breath, cringing at the way you broke down his story which honestly made it sound worse. “Yeah, pretty much and did I mention they went to meet you before the wedding?” Squinting your eyes, you stare at him with your mouth agape. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“If I was, would I seriously be sitting on your couch right now?”
He had a point, he could honestly be doing anything in the world, probably playing some video game, but like anything other than staring at you like you’re his only hope. “You’re lucky I didn’t call the cops on you or something like a, I dunno, normal person would have.” Haechan falls forward dramatically, grabbing both of your hands and squeezes them as he muffles what you assume is happy screams into your couch cushion.
The sudden move shouldn’t have made your heart jump a little, but it did and you’re not entirely sure why. For now, you’re blaming it on the fact that he’s insanely cute and the greasy food as you feeling a little beside yourself. “Your godsend, truly from heaven itself.” You pull your hands from his grasp, trying to hide the fact that your face feels like it’s on fire. “Yeah yeah, let me go before I reconsider this whole thing.”
“Let me at least take you on the first date before you try to back out—which by the way, will be next weekend at the actual wedding.”
You know that spit-take scene in movies where a person literally spits their drink everywhere because of the shocking news they just received, well that was you when he said that. Only this time it wasn’t in slow motion and wasn’t nearly as awesome, instead you choked halfway through spitting it out and it came back up and out your nose as you tried to save yourself from choking.
Haechan, disgusted you just spit all over him and also worried to see you nearly come to your end, gets up from the couch and searches your apartment for a towel to clean you and him up. When he comes back, you had slipped away to the bathroom to not only hide your embarrassment, but to clean yourself up and change your shirt. After what seemed like enough time to hope he had left, you went back into your living room to see Haechan sitting on the floor and using your couch as a back rest.
“Are you okay because that was—well that was tragic to put it kindly.”
“Can we not mention that, like ever for the rest of our lives would be good.” Sitting across from him, you fold your arms on top of the table, trying to avoid his gaze as you look anywhere but directly at him. He nods, understanding how overwhelmed you just be with all that he’s asking. You can tell by his stance how grateful he is for you and you use that to settle your nerves a bit. After all, maybe this would be a good thing. Maybe all of Karina’s talk about the universe and good karma might actually pull through.
“I’m sorry for roping you into all of this.” When you finally meet his eyes, you could see the sadness that lingered in them as he hung his head. “I don’t want you to think I do this for fun or I’m creepy or anything—I feel really bad for bringing you into something you didn’t ask for.”
Your chest felt heavy as you watched him slump against your couch. The last few interactions with Haechan made you feel like you’ve known him your entire life and seeing him so down had you feeling hurt.
“If you don’t want to do this, tell me please because I just- I don’t want you to go along with this because you feel bad for me.”
“I do feel bad for you, but that’s not why I’m doing this.” When he lifted his head, you could see the smile spread across his lips. “I see this as a an opportunity.”
“To what exactly?” When he leaned in, you did the same. He looked so familiar in this moment, so relaxed and almost kissable. But that’s the last thing you need to be thinking about when his face is damn near touching yours. “Two words: free food.” Watching Haechan gasp, you laugh as he raises his eyebrows at you. “Who said I’m going to pay for your food?”
Shrugging, you look down at your wrist and start to tap it with your finger. “Oh look at that, seems like you’ll have to find another girl who will help you, guess you might as well go ho-“
Haechan jumped up from his seat, moving around the table to grab your wrist. “No no, that’s okay—free food you said, that includes travel rights too?” You almost hate to say it, but this boy was making moves that damn near took your breath away. It sounds almost sad to be so swooned over a boy you hardly know, but there was something about him that just made you feel so at home. Maybe it was the way he laughs at every bad joke you tell or maybe it’s the way he’s way too touchy for your liking and yet you don’t seem to mind it.
Maybe it’s the way his lips are so plump and every time he pouts, you just wanna grab his face and kiss him till you’re out of breath. Maybe it’s the way his hand always feels warm to the touch and you could only imagine how you’d feel with his arms around you.
“Earth to y/n?” The snapping of Haechan’s fingers pulled you from your thoughts, blinking at him as if he was just apart of your imagination this whole time. “What’s going on up there that’s got you so spaced out?”
“Nothing, just thinking about what I’m gonna wear to the wedding.” Haechan looked at you a little longer, his eyes scanning your face to which you assume he’s trying to find something in your eyes. He seems to have bought it, backing away from you to create more personal space for you while he goes back to sit across from you. “Good point, we might just have to go shopping around this weekend to find a dress—oh and don’t forget one for the wedding so that makes two.”
“With what money, exactly? I mean I’m not broke, but I’m not paid enough to buy two dresses I’ll probably only wear once.”
He rolls his eyes at you, pulling his phone from his pocket when it starts vibrating. He doesn’t answer, instead he swipes right on the caller id and brings the device to his ear. From what you can hear from the person on the other side of the phone, you felt like he probably had something important to do. You start to get up, picking up the towels that he used to clean up the couch with. When you left to drop them off in the dirty basket, you return to find your door cracked and Haechan to be missing. Assuming he had went back to his apartment, you start to go and close the door before it swings. Haechan comes in, being followed behind by a guy you don’t recognize.
“Donghyuck, that’s breaking bro-code and you know it.” You’re a little confused as to why Haechan was called by another name, but you stay silent and watched the blonde haired boy cross his arms at Haechan. “I told you Yangyang, I’m not going to give you the girl at my jobs number—she already told me she filed a restraining order.”
Yangyang, the blonde haired guy you assume, pouts as he gets down on his knees with hands intertwined. “Pretty please, it doesn’t even have to be her, it can be someone else, I just need someone man—I’m lonely!”
You watch the dramatic scene unfold in your living room, getting a weird sense of deja vu. After clearing your throat to try and prevent yourself from coughing, both boys look at you with confusion in their eyes. “Are you the fake girlfriend?”
“I guess?” The question threw you off when Haechan’s friend said it so bluntly. “Stop asking questions and go to my apartment.” Haechan picked his friend up from the ground, shooing him out of yours and to the one across the hall. When Yangyang was now in his apartment, Haechan turned to you with a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry for what you had to witness.”
“Don’t worry about it, I’ve had weirder experiences than that if I’m being honest.”
He nods, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks around the floor. “So, I uh, I gotta get back to him or else he’ll probably destroy my apartment.”
“I’ll walk you home.” Your offer had his cheeks turning a slight shade of pink as you followed him from your door to his. Right before he went inside, he turned around and, to your surprise, gave you a hug. You took him in, wrapping your arms around his as you two held each other for what felt like forever. “Goodnight, Haechan.” You whispered as he pulled away, smiling at him. “Donghyuck.”
When you looked at him confused, he shoved his hands into his pockets. “My name is donghyuck, but my friends typically call me Haechan.”
“So we’re not friends?” He shook his head, smiling so fondly at you that you weren’t sure what was real or fake at this point. “Only my special friends can call me Donghyuck.”
That night, his words echoed in your head as you laid in bed staring at your ceiling. You seem quite delusional for falling for someone who you barely know, but boy oh boy does he have you on the edge and you’re ready to give it all just to fall into him. You grab your phone from off your bed, scrolling through your messages till you find Karina’s name.
y/n: baby boo u awake?
naevis baevis: no ew go to sleep
y/n: I think I like him
naevis baevis: GIRL WHATT THE HELL DID I MISS??
y/n: i don’t know I’m IDK he’s got me feelin wheezy
naevis baevis: so he’s got you having diarrhea??
y/n: NO BITCH WHAT??
naevis baevis: tell me tomorrow at work I’m too tired for you and your pneumonia
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As Karina swiveled her chair around, you sat on top of her desk while picking at the chipped polish on your nails. “So what’s his friend look like?” You look over at her with a deadpan expression as she wiggles her phone in her hand for you to see. “That’s the least important part of the story and instead of being a good friend you wanna ask about the random guy who practically begged for bitches on my living room floor?” She nods, continuing to wiggle her phone at you until you snatch it from her hand and type in his name.
“That’s all I get?” She frowns, scrolling through the pulled up suggested accounts with the same name. “Look, I only know his name was Yangyang and you better hope I spelt that right.” She looks focused as she continues to scroll through, clicking on an account and holding it up for you to approve—to which you did. “He’s kinda cute.” She coos, looking through his instagram feed while leaning back in her chair. “Karina.” You whine, nudging her leg with your foot as she giggles at her phone. She looks up from her phone, mirroring your pout as she sets the device down and folds her hands together. “Look, I don’t see anything wrong with it, he’s offering to pay for your dresses and he’s incredibly hot from what I saw on his friends page so I say it’s a win-win.”
“How do you know he’s incredibly hot based off his friends page?”
“Duh, you’ve described this man to me so many times I’ve practically seen him through your eyes at this point.” She had a point, ever since Haechan walked into your life, all you seem to do is talk about him and how he makes your stomach is filled with butterflies. “So when’s the wedding again?” You snap out from your thoughts, staring at her with shock. “Huh?”
“His friends wedding, when is it?” For some reason when she first asked the question, you thought she was talking about you and Haechan and that alone had your face turning a slight shade of pink. “Girl please don’t tell me you thought I was talking about your man.” You rolled your eyes, sliding yourself off her desk and pulled down the rolled up pieces of fabric of your pants. “He’s not my man.” She gives you a look that tells you she doesn’t buy your bullshit and swivels her chair back around to her computer. “Tell that to lover boy next time you see him.”
You ignore her last comment and head back to your desk, confused to see a note left by your keyboard. When you pick it up, you read that Xiaojun had eaten your lunch by accident and apologized via sticky note. Crumbling it in your hand, you plop down into your chair in defeat. You throw the sticky note in the trash and start to open up files on your computer when you hear the phone on your desktop ring. Answering, you continue to click open files with the phone to your ear. “Y/n’s office.”
“Hey y/n, it’s winter down at the front desk, this guy is asking for you if you’re not busy.” You check the time on your computer, shrugging as you pin a couple important things before closing off the rest. “Sure, I’ll come down.” After you hang up the phone, you let Jaehyun know you’re going to lunch in which he replies he hopes you get a stomach bug. One of these days you’re gonna poison his food you think—playfully of course.
After a quick elevator ride down, you enter the main lobby of your building and wave at Winter who was standing behind the front desk. She returns the wave with a smile and points over at Haechan who was sitting on a bench by the front doors. In his hand was a bouquet of flowers and his phone. “Um, are you stalking me because if you are then this won’t work, I draw the line at being creepy.” Your voice caught Haechan’s attention, closing off his phone and tucking it into his jacket pocket as he gets up and heads towards you. “No I’m not stalking you, I asked the landlord for your number and where you worked and surprisingly he told me in a heartbeat.”
You make the mental note to stop sharing personal information with your landlord before focusing in on the flowers in his hand. Haechan’s eyes follow yours, looking down at the flowers before handing them over to you. “I thought since I’m your fake boyfriend, I might as well be a good one for compensation on having to deal with the shit show you got sucked into.” You smile at the flowers, looking up to meet his eyes. “Thank you, for the flowers I mean.” He nods, rubbing the back of his neck as he tries to hide his smile. “So, you’re not busy are you, because I totally showed up unannounced, but I figured it was better to do that then text you and you block my number”.
“No, I’m on lunch right now and you chose the best option on that.” He nods, linking his arm with yours and immediately starts walking towards the exit. “Excuse me, but where exactly are we going and why the hell did you feel the need to skip with your steps?” He smiled and if you’re honest, his smile brightened up the entire atmosphere around you. “We’re going dress shopping, duh, oh and to get lunch because I’m a good boyfriend like that.”
You didn’t have time to protest before the two of you were off into the city. He gave you the choice for lunch, picking a taco stand near some shops because you felt guilty for him paying for everything. He would not let you bring out your wallet and even threatened to throw it out the window if you tried to spend your money. The gesture was sweet, but his seriousness made you tuck it safety away in your pocket.
Once you found a dress shop you were comfortable entering, you both entered and looked around before one of the staff took you away while the other walked Haechan around and helped him pick out dresses for you to try on. Once he found a couple different options, you tried them on and the both of you settled on your favorite pick for the first dress that you’d wear to the ceremony. Since the reception was going to be later in the night, Haechan opted for a different dress that was more covering so that you wouldn’t be so cold. When you came out in the second dress that he himself specifically picked, you almost felt too nervous to meet his gaze.
When he turned around from talking to a staff member, he visibly froze when his eyes met with yours. Panic starts to rush through your veins as you pull and fluff the dress in hopes that you don’t look like a total fool. “So, how does it look?” Haechan didn’t say anything for almost two minutes, staring at you with his mouth open. You snap your fingers at him, face turning read as the staff members smile lovingly at you both. “Sorry, I uh, wow.” You look at him dumbfounded, turning around to go back and change out of the dress. Just before you close the curtain, you could feel the warmth from his fingers wrap around your wrist and turn you around. “Breathtaking, to answer your question, you look absolutely breathtaking.”
“I meant the dress.” You mumble as you try to avoid his gaze. “The dress is just a piece of fabric, it’s the person wearing it that gives it such glow.” You couldn’t think straight, your mind going to mush with the lack of space between you and Haechan, the sudden smell of his cologne taking over your senses and his blown-out pupils making you feel almost dizzy. You nod, swallowing thickly as you pull yourself from his grasp and rush into the changing area. Embarrassing is what you’d call that, way too embarrassing to talk about and way too embarrassing to not forget. You opt to pretend it didn’t happen and get dressed. When you hang the dresses on the outer rack, you realize the dress Haechan picked didn’t have any coverage on the shoulders and by time you had gotten dressed, you saw him at the register.
“Where’s the dresses?” You ask, meeting him by his side when he gets his receipt from the cashier. “They’re bagging them up now, why?”
“The second one didn’t have sleeves, you wanted sleeves so I don’t get cold, no?” To see the smile on his face made you confused, there wasn’t anything particular that was funny nor did you say anything for him to be smiling like he just found a million dollars. “I only want you by my side in that dress, the rest doesn’t matter.” You snicker, shoving him as one of the staff members calls his name. He walks over, getting both dresses in their boxes and some simple instructions on how to take care of them in washing. “You two are a beautiful couple.” The cashier’s voice caught you off guard, waving your hands as you shake your head.
“No, you’re mistaken, we’re not together.” Her eyes flicker between you and Haechan, smiling as she looks away embarrassed. “Oh, I’m sorry, I just thought because of the way you two look at one another.” You were just about to ask her what she meant by that when Haechan came back. “Ready to go?” You nodded, following him out the store and back to his car where you two drove in silence back to your job.
He bid you a goodbye and told you he’d keep the dresses till you came by to get them. You promised him you’d be by after work and went back into the building with the biggest smile on your face. With the flowers in one hand, you scanned your ID badge when you entered the building and saw a bunch of weird states from your coworkers. You wouldn’t necessarily call the weird, but they were all smiling at you so sickly that you felt as if you were about to get pranked.
The ride up the elevator was also weird, a bunch of people kept giggling and smiling at you when asking about your flowers and it was starting to make you uncomfortable. As you got off on your floor, you walk down to get to your desk when someone grabs you and drags you into a janitor’s closet. You nearly scream when being jerked to the side until you see Karina with a shit-eating grin on her face. Now that you know you weren’t about to be chopped up into little pieces, you steady yourself and take deep breaths to catch your breath. “You’re fucking insane.”
Staring at her in shock, you slap her thigh to which she winces. “Me, insane? You just drug me into a closet like a psycho maniac and for what?” She giggles into her hand, leaning forward as she sniffs your flowers. “So he brought you fucking flowers girl? We were just talking about him and he shows up with a bouquet and a ring?”
You roll your eyes at her emphasis on a ring. “What ring, we literally—wait firstly who told you he brought me flowers?” She then proceeds to explain how Winter saw you and Haechan and then told Ningning who then told Wendy who then told Taeyong who then told Jaehyun who then told literally everyone. You make another mental note to hunt Jaehyun down and ruin his chance at having kids. “So spill the tea, c’mon, don’t be shy and tell me about your date.”
“It wasn’t a date, he took me to lunch which he wouldn’t let me pay for I might add, he brought me dresses for the wedding he coerced me to be his date for and then drove me back.” She holds her hand over her mouth as she stares at you with a smile. “So he took you on a date.” You then slap her thigh again as she giggles and an unfamiliar smell catches your attention. “What’s that smell?” She looks at you, considering what smell you could be talking about. You lean in, getting a good look at her to realize her hair had been messed with, her lips slightly swollen and her shirt was buttoned wrongly.
You give her a grin as she sees you connect the dots and immediately opens the door. “Oh no, come back and do spill the tea miss Karina!” She covers her ears, trying to block you out as you follow behind her and start pointing out the differences of her appearance from before you last saw her.
Later that night, you kept your promise to go over to Haechan’s, but only after you had taken a very much needed shower did you do so. When you knocked on his door, you could hear the music that was being played stop and a bit of shuffling before the door opened. You expected to see Haechan, but to your surprise you saw someone you weren’t exactly familiar with. The guy who was giving you a weird look was his honestly kind of cute in an intimidating way, but you stopped yourself from thinking that any further than you already did. “Are you gonna say something or are you just gonna stare at me?”
Embarrassed, you avert your eyes from his and try to think of something to say. You don’t know why you feel so under pressure, maybe it was the lack of expression in his face or the fact that he was practically your height, but made you feel small. “Renjun, was that the pizza guy?” You could hear Haechan from inside the apartment, his voice bringing a smile to your lips. Just as you’re about to go back into your apartment and give up on getting your dresses, Haechan comes beside to the boy you assume is Renjun and sees your visible uncomfortableness. “Y/n, hi- oh shit I forgot to give you your dresses, didn’t I?”
“No, no actually I was supposed to come get them, but that’s okay I’m just gonna uhm I’m gonna go home.” Backing away from the door, you signal to your apartment entrance behind you as you see Haechan pout. “Wait, why don’t you come inside and hang out with us?” Haechan, who slipped through the space between Renjun and the wall, made his way to you in hopes to stop you from leaving. Your eyes flicker between Renjun and Haechan, feeling almost guilty for wanting to remove yourself from this awkward situation. “Hyuck, I’m just across the hall, go have time with your friend.”
Haechan’s face softened at the nickname, nodding when his hand brushed against yours. He clears his throat as he steps back towards his apartment, waving at you goodnight as you go back in to snuggle up to your cat. Haechan re-entered his apartment, ignoring the look on Renjun’s face as he plops down on his couch. “What was that and why was that so weird?” Haechan shot a look over at Renjun when his friend started to mirror the look.
“What, I mean from what I just saw from you two, y’all have some weird tension that needs to be solved.”
“Nah, you just scared her away by being that ugly.”
Renjun sarcastically laughs at Haechan’s poorly made joke, flipping up his middle finger at his friend. “I have you know that women find me dangerously attractive.” Haechan snickers, trying to prevent himself from laughing too hard. “Is that what your mom tells you at night?” The last part is what lead Haechan to run for his life around his apartment as Renjun brought various objects for use of a weapon against his friend. Finally after the two made a truce, Haechan decides to text you after remembering how he never did give you his number.
You were a little surprised to get a text when you weren’t expecting one, especially at the hour that it came in. You had been on the phone with Karina while she filled you in on the reason for her shirt being undone and messed up earlier that day. “I literally don’t know what came over me, but I messaged the guy and he ended up being around and we just pounced.”
You laugh, clicking on the message app. “I can’t believe you nearly gave it all to Yangyang.” She laughs, wiping the tears that were in the corners of her eyes from all the giggling you two have been doing. “Me either! I mean I know he’s cute, but damn his lips are magic.” You hesitate to open the unknown message, afraid it could bad someone trying to scam you out of whatever you got and to be honest it wasn’t much, but you knew you wouldn’t let them have your cat peanut.
unknown: hey
y/n: uhm hello?
unknown: I miss u
y/n: I will literally block you
unknown: ITS ME ITS HAECHAN
y/n: ohh hi hyuck
You decide change his contact name and save his number.
boy next door aka hyuck: wyd :p
y/n: blocking you bc that was cringe
boy next door aka hyuck: you want me so bad oo 😵‍💫
y/n: don’t you wish I did 😏
boy next door aka hyuck: yes
y/n: I’m telling my fbi agent
boy next door aka hyuck: tell them I said i just wanted to text you so you’ll have my number
boy next door aka hyuck: and to apologize for Renjun earlier but goodnight for now
y/n: goodnight hyuck
boy next door aka hyuck: goodnight y/n
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The rest of the week and a half that played out before the wedding only added more fuel to the fire in your heart that burned for Haechan. He would send you songs throughout the day at random times to which you started adding to a playlist anytime you couldn’t stop thinking about him. He would leave things at your doorstep or drop stuff off at your job for you to get on your lunch break. He occasionally would come over or you’d be invited over and the two of you would spend the night laughing at poorly made moves, singing old Michael Jackson songs at the top of your lungs, which is how you realized that he was literally gifted the voice of an angel, and play board games after the two of you had one too many drinks.
Each time you two were alone and it was late, it always seemed that you were avoiding the inevitable. You could always stop yourself from leaning in and stealing a kiss from his plump and precious lips, but that never stopped your mind from thinking about it. The tension that Renjun mentioned before seemed to only get thicker the more you spent time with him, making it harder to see the line between this all being fake and what was genuinely real.
The morning of the wedding to be specific was when you could clearly tell that the dynamic of your relationship had shifted and there wasn’t much room to turn back now. That alone terrified you because you weren’t sure if you had been the only one feeling the way you felt. You had changed into your dress and made sure to apply minimal makeup to keep yourself from looking like a burnt out clown by the end of the night. Thankfully for you, the dress was comfortable and the venue where the ceremony was being held wasn’t too far.
“Are you nervous?” Your question came unexpected to Haechan, turning his head to give you a quick glance over as he continued his drive to the ceremony venue. “Why should I be, I’m not the one getting married.” He smiled thinking about his friend and the future he was creating from this day forward. Haechan was genuinely excited to see Johnny become a dad and do all the things he knew he was fit for. It wasn’t like Haechan was scared for that part of his future, he did look forward to being married and settling down with his partner, but he never thought he’d actually get that far in life to do so.
“Dunno, just thought I’d ask.” You lean against the window, propped up on your elbow as you watch the buildings pass by. Haechan reached over, grabbing your free hand and intertwined his fingers within yours. A lot of the time he would do this and each time it felt so comforting that silence would take over and all that could be heard was the music that was being washed out by the beating of your heart for him.
You must’ve zoned out because by the time you tuned back in, Haechan was parking the car at the front of the building and waiting for you to realize you had arrived. You got out the car, instantly smelling the salty ocean air beige meeting him around the front of the car and bring your hands up to straighten his bow tie. He smiles down at you, shoving his hands into his pockets as you brush off his tuxedo and fiddle with his hair. You give him a puzzled look, watching as he shook his head and mumbled something along the lines about ‘that was cute’.
The two of you entered the building, you turn to glance back at the beach that looked so relaxing before linking your arm with his. A few people come up to Haechan and you, introducing themselves and complementing the two of you as a couple. You stayed quiet for most of the time, not exactly knowing what to say and Haechan didn’t seem that interested in the people as well. You spot someone familiar, well he’s not exactly familiar, but you had seen him before. The boy with blue hair makes his way over, you choose to step aside and watch as he hugs Haechan as the two smile and pat one another on the back.
“Dude it’s been so long, what’s going on?” After hugging Haechan, the boy you try to remember that is Mark, straightens out his tux, but never falters his smile. “I‘be been busy with work and oh- I want you to meet someone.” To be honest, you weren’t really paying attention when Haechan started walking over to you. His warm hand lifted yours and the sweet look in his eyes made your cheeks feel warm. “This is my girlfriend y/n, y/n this is my best friend Mark.”
You go in to shake his hand, surprised when he pulled you into a hug. “It’s nice to finally meet you, y/n, lover boy over here has literally been talking nonstop about you.” You smile, watching as Haechan mouths to you that he’s going to find your seats. After mark pulls back, the two of you chat a little by the same area, occasionally looking around for Haechan to find him talking to who you assume is his friends. “You know, you’re really good for him.” Marks words had you almost taken aback, turning your head to see him smiling. “At first, I was pretty hesitant because when he told me he had a girlfriend I didn’t believe him, but I’ve seen how happy he’s been and I can’t wait for us to meet again like this, it’s been a pleasure to meet you.”
“Meet like this again?” Mark look slightly embarrassed that you didn’t catch on, but he was being called by his date for the evening so he started to make his way off.
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After the ceremony was over, everyone started to move towards the venue for the rest of the evening to conclude. A lot of people were left in tears, yourself included, by the vows exchanged between Johnny and his now wife.
When the two of you enter the venue, an overwhelming feeling washes over you and makes you grip his hand a little tighter. Haechan seems to notice, giving your hand a gentle squeeze as he guides you through the crowd of people who grouped around the entrance. Once he finds quieter space to pull you two, you were too spaced out to realize how close he had gotten. Both of his hands were on your shoulders, rubbing softly on the exposed skin to calm you.
“Hey, you’re gonna be okay, I’m right here y/n.” His voice brings you in from your thoughts, focusing on in the look in his eyes and how soft his features are in this moment. With a little nod, you let him know you’re with him and he smiles as you pull one of his hands from your shoulder and intertwine your fingers. He takes this opportunity to lead you towards your table where some of his friends you met earlier were seated. You immediately spot Karina and Yangyang at the mini bar just further down from the table and gave Yangyang a wave as he spots you and Haechan.
Haechan’s hand finds its way into the small of your back, immediately getting your attention as you turn your head towards him. “I’m gonna go get us something to drink.” He says, just loud enough to be heard over the music. You nod, standing behind your chair as you look over to the stage. Johnny walks up with the widest smile you’ve seen him sport since he kissed his bride and taps on the microphone a couple times. “Can I have everyone’s attention? Hello, everyone look up here.” Everyone goes quiet and the musics volume is lowered as Johnny looks over at the crowd. “I want to thank everyone coming out to celebrate me and my lovely wife coming together, this first dance will go out to all the new and older couples that are here, please join us in this dance to celebrate love that’s everlasting.”
Just as Johnny raises his glass, Haechan comes back and hands you your drink. You smiled as you took the glass from him and took a sip as the crowd raised theirs with Johnny. Just as Johnny gets off the stage, couples all start to make their way to the dance floor as Johnny gets to his wife and meets her in the middle. “We should go dance.” Surprised, you set your glass down and give Haechan a puzzled look. “Dance? But I don’t know how to dance and this is a couples dance.” He doesn’t take no for an answer, grabbing your hand and pulling you to follow him. “We are a couple.” You can’t exactly tell if he’s still going along with the fake dating charade for his friends or if the light in his eyes was genuine.
It doesn’t take much for you to give in, especially when the most romantic song Dandelions starts to play. Once he found a moveable spot on the floor, his hands circle around to your back and pull you in close. Your hands rest on his shoulders as you try not to make too much eye contact with him inches away from your face. “You’re so beautiful, y/n.” You could feel your cheeks heating up, trying to hide your face from him as you clear your throat. “Likewise, hyuck.”
“Just likewise?” When you turned your head to face his, he seemed a lot closer than you remembered and for some reason that terrified you and relaxed you at the same time. “I mean you are beautiful, very handsome and whatnot.” He laughs and the sound goes straight to your heart. You knew before you gotten to this point that falling for him would be so easy and so hard, but never did you expect for it to be this gentle. “I’m glad you think so, that alone gives me enough confidence to do what I’ve been dying to do.” You tilt your head at his sudden confession, watching as he leaned in and rested his head against yours.
You didn’t know what to do or even what to say, instead you opted to stay quiet and continue to hold him as the two of you danced. Somewhere between the end of Dandelions and the beginning of Golden Hour, your head was now resting against his chest and the two of you were lost in your own world. Haechan brought his hand up to your chin, gently lifting your head up. You blink at him, caught up in the music and the moment, not realizing what was about to happen nor did you want it to stop.
Haechan leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him further in. Your brain turned into mush and your body felt like it was on fire as the two of you were caught up in a slow and almost loving kiss on the dance floor. Haechan was the first to pull away, resting his forehead against yours as he catches his breath. You continued to sway with him, moving back and forth as you build up the courage to ask the question you’ve been dying for an answer to. “Will you be my girlfriend, like a real one this time?” Pulling back, you smile at Haechan who looks almost panicked.
“Because if not that’s okay too- like you don’t have to we can totally forg—“ You cut him off by pulling him back in for a kiss. He smiles against your lips, giving your hip a playful squeeze. Once the two of you pull back from one another’s lips, Haechan smiles which turns into a soft string of laughs. “What’s so funny, it’s not exactly polite to laugh after kissing a girl you know.” He tries to explain, failing to when he continues laughing. “Aren’t you glad you got a free trial?” You give him a puzzled look, watching as he steps back from you and spins around on his heel. “Free trial wedding style.”
You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at the way he poorly described your fake relationship from the beginning, but he had a point. You look back and now thank the universe for bringing him into your life and can’t wait to see what it’ll be like from here on out. Who knows, maybe the next wedding you’ll be at will be yours.
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©︎𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐍., 2022
2K notes · View notes
asahicore · 7 months
Text
love calculator - pjh (m)
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this work contains smut - minors please do not interact
pairing. best friend!jihoon x fem!reader
synopsis. You were sure that Jihoon only took care of you so well because your brother had tasked him with looking after you when you started university, so you tried not to read too much into his actions until you couldn't deny your increasing sensitivity around your best friend anymore. What you didn't know was Jihoon was going crazy, finding ways to make his feelings for you more obvious than they already were.
genre. f2l, brother's friend, slight childhood friends action, college au, slow burn?, fluff, smut (mutual first time, they do it raw, dirty talking, very soft dom!jihoon)
warnings. jihoon is a menace, jihoon has a hot bod, junkyu is mean to everyone, mc is a bit slow, side romance but i dont actually ship idols i have a life, omegle, ok theres no actual stuff to be warned about its all good in there
word count. 28.2k dont ask me why or how idk either
a/n. there she is... i spent SO much time on her pls love it lots or i'll cry.. it was sm fun writing for jihoon omg i hope u love hoonyn as much as i do !!! @zreamy my dear sweet little zo ty for betareading this and freaking out over jihoon u rock
1K follower trope event - requested by @mosviqu, tysm for requesting and i really hope u enjoy it !!!! - listen to the playlist!
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Oddly enough, it was Jihoon’s biceps that first made you think something was wrong with you.
It was the fourth week of the spring semester, that odd in-between when you knew midterms were creeping up but were still far away enough to be ignored. This meant that you could party guilt-free.
The plan for tonight was to pregame at one of those huge uni dorms where ten students shared a kitchen then head to an overpriced club downtown that always had the best music on Friday nights. You didn’t have any classes on Fridays, so you’d headed to Jihoon’s place around four p.m. to get ready together. Usually, that was something you’d do with Minjeong, your roommate, but that weekend, she was away for an excursion with her Geography course. 
He was in the shower when you rang the doorbell, so his flatmate let you in, and you made yourself comfortable on his bed while waiting for him. You were so engrossed in the romance Webtoon you’d started that morning that at first, when he came in, you didn’t even look up from your phone. 
“Hey, Y/N,” he said casually, unfazed by your sudden appearance in his room. The soft smell of his body wash filled the room, and you noted with smugness that it was the one you had jokingly given him for Christmas after you’d gotten fed up with his strong, ever-present Axe scent. 
“Hey, Hoonie. You smell nice. For once.”
He chuckled. “It’s all thanks to you.”
“What would you do without me?” you said with a sigh, then looked up. You shouldn’t have. “Oh.”
The sight you were met with was unlike anything you’d ever seen in real life - Jihoon in all his post-shower half-naked glory, a simple white towel hanging low on his hips. Small beads of water fell from his hair and dripped down his chiseled chest and onto the plush carpet lining his bedroom.
You were pretty sure you’d seen at least five scenes like this in your romance comics.
“Oh?” he parroted.
You squinted your eyes at your friend before turning your attention back to your phone. “You’re naked.”
From the corner of your eye, you saw his grin widen. “I’m wearing a towel.”
“A towel isn’t clothes.” He turned around to rummage through his closet, and you took that opportunity to observe him more closely. This was the first time you saw your friend without a shirt, and you were trying your very hardest to not freak out, but it was a bit hard not to. Who would have known that under his baggy shirts and sweaters, Jihoon was hiding firm abs, broad shoulders, defined back muscles and protruding biceps?
His arms were what really got you, because you felt like you should have noticed them before. You’d already caught yourself staring a little bit too hard at the veins on his hands and forearms during a lecture before, so you could’ve conjectured that the upper part of his arms was well-defined as well. As mesmerizing as the shifting of his shoulder muscles was, what you really couldn’t look away from was the bump that formed his bicep. 
“Jihoon, have you always had… arms?”
You had barely even realized you’d said this out loud until Jihoon turned around, a confused look on his face. His lips drew into a smirk when he saw how fixed your gaze on his biceps was.
“No, they just grew recently. Thank you for noticing.”
“No, I mean… arms. Muscles.”
“Oh, these?” he said, flexing his arms and pecking his biceps in such a cheesy way that it snapped you out of your reverie and made you burst into laughter. “I started working on them last year so, yeah, they’ve been around a while.”
“Huh,” you said, then picked your phone up again and resumed your reading. “Well, you should work harder, ‘cause it’s the first time I noticed them.”
Jihoon scoffed. “Don’t act like you weren’t just drooling over my dream bod just seconds ago.”
You looked up, outraged. “I wasn’t drooling, I was observing. And don’t call it a dream bod, that’s gross.”
“My bod is a dream bod.”
“Stop it.”
“Can you look away from my dream bod for a sec? I need to put some pants on.”
“I’m already actively not looking. This dude is way hotter than you, by the way,” you said, waving your phone.
“Let me see him,” Jihoon said, heading towards you after successfully putting a shirt and sweatpants on. Gray sweatpants, you realized with a frown. He took your phone and looked back and forth between the character on the screen and you, an expression of disbelief on his face. “Y/N, this is a two-dimensional fictional character that exists in a fairyland. It hurts my feelings when you call him hotter than me.”
A lip grew on your lips. “Yes, but he has pointy ears and doesn’t refer to his body as a dream bod, so he’s a ten in my books.”
As you spoke, Jihoon lay down on his bed, stretching his arms behind his head and resting it on his palms, looking up at you with a grin. You didn’t know what to make of the sudden flip of your stomach.
“Will I be a ten in your books if I stop calling it a dream bod?”
You laughed. “Dream bod doesn’t even sound real anymore.”
“I don’t think it ever was, to be honest,” Jihoon replied, laughing along. “Or maybe they invented it for me.”
--
After that riveting discussion, you watched the show you’d been watching together (which, you had been surprised to find, Jihoon had the discipline to not watch ahead for), then finished getting ready. That night out hadn’t been particularly extraordinary. Pre-gaming had been fun and chaotic, but the line at the club had been so long that you’d all sobered up by the time you were inside and none of you felt compelled to pay for six dollar shots. At least the good music and nice DJ that took all of your requests made up for it.
The interesting bit happened on the bus ride back home.
By some miracle, Jihoon had run into some of his friendly course seniors that apparently liked him so much, they decided to pay for all of his drinks. Only an hour after getting into the club, he was nothing short of wasted. In your five months of being at university with him, you’d not once seen him in such a state - disheveled hair (from dancing too hard or from getting his hair ruffled like a cute dog by all of his seniors, you weren’t sure), deep red blush staining his cheeks, forehead, ears and neck, unfocused eyes and constant lopsided grin. When he almost tripped over his own feet during Gimme More by Britney Spears, you knew it was time to go home.
Jihoon was usually the one that had to deal with a drunk you, so you didn’t mind taking care of him this time. It was actually kind of fun, seeing this new side of the person who had become your closest friend in the past months. 
Luckily for you, a night bus ran directly from the downtown area you were in to the street you and Jihoon lived on, and you managed to lug him to the bus stop. Getting him onto the bus and into a seat was an arduous task, but you made it, and were enjoying a calm, uneventful ride home until you felt Jihoon’s head drop onto your shoulder. You thought he’d just fallen asleep, but then the unmistakable sound of his voice made itself known to your ears.
“Y/N, Y/N…” Jihoon murmured with a muffled voice, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You tried to ignore the prickly feeling down your spine when his lips moved against your skin.
“Yes, Hoonie?” you asked, a tilt of amusement to your voice. You really had never seen your friend so intoxicated.
He sighed, lifting his head from your shoulder and resting it against the window with a bang. He didn’t even wince at the impact of his head against the glass - the alcohol had apparently rid him of the sensation of pain.
“Don’t call me that,” he mumbled, voice so quiet you had to ask him to repeat himself. “I said don’t call me that!” 
You were taken aback by his sudden burst of irritation, but he sounded more like an upset child than anything.
“Call you what? Hoonie?”
“Yes.”
“Why? I’ve always called you that.” You tilted your head at him, but he kept his eyes fixed on the road outside.
“Exactly. You’re the only one who calls me that. Everyone else says Jihoon,” he said, annoyance clear in his voice. It sounded like this had been bothering him for a while, but it was complete news to you. “Can’t you even be bothered to say my full name, or something?”
You chuckled and brushed some hair out of his face. Like an angry cartoon character, he puffed air out of his nose and crossed his arms over his chest. His frown deepened and a blush spread over his face that was already red from the alcohol. “Should I call you Jihoon from now on?” you asked softly.
His reaction was immediate. He whipped around, almost knocking your head with his, a look of total alarm on his face. His eyes were almost teary. “No!” he exclaimed loudly, garnering glares from some of the other passengers in the bus who probably wanted some quiet this late at night. “No,” he repeated, this time more quietly, and turned back to the window.
In slight disbelief, you chuckled again. “What am I supposed to call you, then?”
“Just-” he started, but cut himself off with a sigh. “Just call me whatever.”
A small smile tugged at your lips. “I’ll stick to Hoonie, then.” 
He groaned as he lifted his head from the window and let it fall back against your shoulder. The angle must’ve made it highly uncomfortable for his neck, but he didn’t seem to mind. He only stayed still for a few seconds before shifting slightly and burying his face in the dip between your shoulder and your neck once more, then let out a low hum of satisfaction. 
“You smell nice,” he mumbled. Your breath caught in your throat. He was too close, his lips were too soft and his breath was too warm against your skin. Your whole body felt hot, like the bus driver had suddenly cranked the heat up and turned the bus into a sauna. “Like almonds,” he added, pressing his nose deeper into the base of your neck and inhaling there.
You tried to laugh, hoping it would dissipate the tension in your body, but it only came out as a choked sound. “It’s my body lotion,” you explained, voice weaker than you’d intended.
“Hm.”
You didn’t know what it was about Jihoon’s proximity that made your head spin so - no one had ever made you feel this way, and the fact that your body was reacting so intensely to someone you had considered your best friend for the past months made it all the more confusing.
“Are you asleep?” you asked him in a small voice after he’d been silent for some minutes.
“Just sleepy,” he murmured, shifting in his seat again. You tried not to shiver at the tickling sensation of his hair against your neck.
A pause. “Jihoon?”
“Don’t call me that.” You smiled, but there was a slight whine to his voice that, for some reason, made your heart ache. 
You corrected yourself. “Hoon?”
“Mmh?”
“Why did it bother you that I call you Hoonie, all of a sudden?”
He took so long to answer that you almost thought he hadn’t heard you. “Because… every time you call me that, it makes me love you more,” he answered, voice getting gradually lower until it became a whisper.
Everything seemed to disappear around you. The other passengers, the seat underneath you, the blinking lights and the night sky outside the window. It was just you and Jihoon, his body warm next to yours and the only thing keeping you tethered to Earth.
“Makes you… love… me?” you echoed tentatively. 
But no answer came. When you bent your head down to look at Jihoon, it seemed like he had fallen completely asleep, mouth slightly agape and the blush of alcohol still red on his face. You didn’t know what to make of his words, but there was no point asking him about them now. So you let him sleep on your shoulder, only waking him once you were nearing his stop. 
--
Jihoon woke up the next morning with a pounding head and a bruised ego.
He had always prided himself in his ability to drink copious amounts of alcohol and yet only end up tipsy. Sure, it wasn’t exactly good for his body, but it meant that he never had to turn down a drink or watch on the sidelines as his friends did shots, and he could still get home just fine and not wake up with a head-splitting hangover the next day. Unlike you, who started giggling for no reason after one pint of beer and who tore it up on the dancefloor or talked to strangers like you’d been besties for years after two shots of tequila.
It only made his state of the previous night that much more embarrassing. He wished he had your amazing memory-erasing superpowers - but sadly, he didn’t, and what happened in the bus was glued to his brain. 
Before he could even lift his head or get a cup of water, his phone rang, the sound invading his ears and splitting his head in two. He slid a thumb across his phone to accept the video call and was greeted by a close-up of Junkyu’s smiling face.
“Rise and shine! I heard someone got their party on last night.”
Jihoon groaned loudly, chucking his phone somewhere on his bed so he didn’t have to see his friend’s face anymore. His was definitely not the face he wanted to see first thing in the morning. Unfortunately for Jihoon, Junkyu had been blessed with an extraordinarily loud voice that still rang clear even when the speakers of Jihoon’s phone were stifled by his blankets.
“Y/N sent me a video of you. You looked ridiculous, man.”
“I hate you. I hate your face, I hate the way you talk, I hate how mean you are to me-”
“I can’t hear you. What was that?”
With another groan and a lot of difficulty, Jihoon raised his upper body and retrieved his phone. “You suck.”
Junkyu’s smile widened. “Well, that’s all from me. Have a glass of water!” he said cheerily before hanging up. Jihoon had never wanted to kill someone so badly.
His murderous feelings softened when he turned his head to find a plastic bottle of water and a headache pill along with a handwritten note on his bedside table. Have this and text me when you wake up! with five hearts at the bottom. It wasn’t signed, but he knew it was from you.
When the two of you met up for brunch sometime later, he kept searching your face and reading into your actions for any sign that what he’d said last night had made you uncomfortable. He’d expected you to be awkward around him, but your attitude almost made him think he’d imagined the whole thing. You joked around with him as usual, as if he hadn’t practically confessed to you last night, and he was desperate to know what might be going through your mind.
Had you forgotten? Had you chalked it up to him being drunk and talking nonsense? Had he had just thought it very hard, and not actually said it out loud? Or, worst of all, had you heard it all and understood him and decided to just ignore it for the sake of your friendship?
Jihoon was going crazy. He could barely taste his chicken and waffles.
The truth was, you just had no idea what to make of his words, and you were scared bringing it up might make things awkward. Jihoon could have forgotten all about it, or he could have meant something entirely different from where your wild, romance-comic-filled imagination went. Save for his tired eyes and groggy voice, he was no different at breakfast than he usually was, so you dropped it.
--
“Okay, Y/N, I think it’s time for you to go home now.” 
Different Friday night, different party. A week had passed and neither of you had mentioned what Jihoon had said on the bus - it wasn’t quite out of your minds just yet, but you’d both separately decided to pretend nothing had happened.
This time, Jihoon had found you in the hallway playing beer pong and downing the cup of beer your opponent had thrown the ball into. Everybody cheered you on as you gulped the cheap liquid down before lifting the empty cup over your head, eyes screwed shut at the unpleasant bitterness in your mouth. Jihoon wasn’t sure why you were playing - you hated beer, and you had one of the worst throws he’d ever seen. But even he, who was supposed to look after you, couldn’t suppress a smile at your attempt and inevitable total fail at scoring a point for your team. Even with all the concentration in the world, the sheer amount of alcohol in your system would’ve made it impossible for you to make it.
Back against the wall and arms crossed over his chest, he watched amusedly as you squinted your eyes at the cups across the table from you, even sticking out your tongue as if that would make your aim any better. After a few tense seconds, you threw the ping-pong ball and hit Lee Jeno right in the chest. You’d giggled at your own failure, letting people pat you on the back for trying and reassure you that it’s okay (even though you really didn’t care) before stumbling right into Jihoon. 
As soon as you’d recognized your friend’s face, you’d thrown your arms around his neck and pulled him down into a hug as you yelled his name happily; his hands had come up to your hips and gently pushed your body away from his. Then, he’d said the words you always hated to hear at a party.
“But we just got here!” you cried, the same answer you always gave him when he wanted to leave. You started walking away from him and back into the kitchen for more alcohol. He sighed but was quick to follow you.
“We got here three hours ago. Plus we did pres at Yoshi’s place. You’ve had way more than enough to drink,” he said, snatching a cup you’d just filled with punch from your hands.
“I was gonna drink that!” you complained, leaning against the counter for support. 
Jihoon took in your swaying body and your dazed eyes and knew he had to get you home. Any more alcohol and you’d pass out in this stranger’s apartment. Usually, he’d let you drink to your heart’s content and just make sure you got home safe afterwards, but midterms were coming up, and you’d planned on studying the next day - he was just trying to minimize the severity of your hangover. 
You mustered your most pitiful expression - to drunk you, there was no way Jihoon could resist your pouty lips and sad eyes. “Do we really have to go?” you asked, and Jihoon had to read your lips because of the loud music. 
He smirked, seeing right through your little act. He bent his upper body so that his lips were right next to your ear. “You’ll thank me tomorrow,” he replied, making you drop your fake sad expression.
“I should go say bye to Minjeong and the others first.”
“I’ve already told them we were leaving.”
You rolled his eyes at him and his stupid smile and lifted yourself from the counter, immediately losing your balance. Maybe you had drunk too much. At least Jihoon was there to catch you and prevent you from falling. He tried to put his arm around your shoulder to support you but you stepped away from him and fixed him a pointed look.
“I can still walk, you know.”
Jihoon smiled but said nothing, gesturing at you to go on and walk. You turned around and started making your way out of the place, ignoring Jihoon’s snickers as you bumped into various party-goers and pieces of furniture.  
When you reached the front door, you decided that actually, no, you couldn’t walk. Sliding against the wall, you let yourself drop into a crouching position. Your head suddenly felt like it was twice its normal weight and you regretted those last few shots of whatever it was you had drunk.
Jihoon sighed as he lowered himself and grabbed you under your armpits to lift you up. He had never been more thankful for an elevator and a bus stop only a minute’s walk away from where you were. Standing under bright lights in a desert and quiet street, it appeared like an oasis to Jihoon. Whoever’s party this had been, they lived in a really calm part of town. At this time on a Friday night, Jihoon’s street would be teeming with drunk students deciding which bar or club they should head to next.
You had never been more thankful for a bus stop with seats. You plopped yourself down on one of them, resting your head on the glass behind you and tightening your jacket around your shoulders. You closed your eyes, deciding this was the perfect time for a nap. 
“Are you cold?” Jihoon asked, his voice keeping you from nodding off. You let out a non-committal hum in response which he wasn’t sure how to interpret. He chuckled and you heard a rustling sound before feeling an added weight on top of your body. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he murmured, then sat by your side.
Next thing you knew, Jihoon was making you stand again, and your feet moved of their own accord as he led you inside the bus. As soon as you were seated, you drifted back off to sleep. You jolted awake when your head drooped over, making you feel like you were falling. You sat up straight and looked around the empty bus, frantically asking Jihoon where you were.
“I’m taking you home,” he answered, laughter clear in his voice.
“Oh, okay,” you mumbled, and closed your eyes once more, falling back asleep in a matter of seconds. 
Jihoon watched with a tender smile as your mouth opened slightly and let soft snores escape it. Scooting closer to you, he placed his palm on your cheek and pulled your head towards his shoulder so it could rest there.
“Why do you drink so much if you can’t handle it?” he asked quietly, even though he knew you were already in dreamland.
--
When you opened your eyes the next morning, you felt like a kid who had fallen asleep in the car on the way home from a distant relative's wedding and mysteriously woken up in their bed. You stretched out your limbs, enjoying the softness and warmth of your sheets covering your body until a headache and pasty mouth hit you like a ton of bricks. It felt like the alcohol had made your brain shrivel inside of your skull - your whole body was screaming for water. 
Some kind of miracle had made a large glass of water appear on your bedside table, and you gulped it down in mere seconds. The hour on your phone read 10:24 a.m. - so much for getting up early and going to study at the library. 
You’d have rather stayed curled up under your blankets and slept the rest of your hangover off, but some rustling noises from the kitchen (and an intense need to pee) forced you out of the comfort of your bed. You stumbled into the kitchen to find Jihoon placing a pancake atop an already dangerously high stack. 
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he greeted you, glancing at you with a smirk on his face as you made your way towards him. You stood behind him and rested your forehead at the base of his neck, as if catching a few last seconds of sleep. 
The feeling of your hair against his skin sent shivers down his spine and he hoped his shaky intake of breath had gone unnoticed by you. His pancake was ready and he had to put it on the plate behind him, but as if a cat had fallen asleep in his lap, he couldn’t get himself to move. This was a moment he wanted to cherish - although you never particularly kept your distance from him, he was still always greedy for more of your touch.
“Hey, Hoonie,” you replied in a groggy voice. “Thank you for breakfast,” you said, moving to rest your lower back against the counter next to the stove. He missed you immediately. “And sorry for being a nuisance last night.”
Jihoon smiled at you as he turned to place the pancake on the stack. Then he leaned in slightly and you made sure not to breathe through your mouth so he wouldn’t smell your morning breath. 
“You always apologize, and yet who’s dragging you home every single weekend?” he asked with an amused grin that let you know he wasn’t actually bothered by it.
He turned back to his pan and ladled more batter into it, forming a perfectly circular pancake. “Sorry,” you repeated guiltily.
He shook his head. “I’d rather be there and make sure you get home safe. And it’s not like I don’t have fun at those parties.” 
A small smile on your lips, you nodded and let his words assuage your guilt. “I’ll make coffee as a token of my gratitude.”
“How kind of you,” Jihoon teased, beaming. 
No matter how many times Jihoon reassured you, you still felt bad that he thought it his obligation to do those things for you.
Although you’d only grown closer at the beginning of your first year of university, now six months ago, you and Jihoon had known each other since you were thirteen, and he fourteen. You still remembered his braces, wide boba eyes and round cheeks from your teenage years - when you saw him again five years later, you couldn’t deny your surprise at his much… manlier appearance. Sharper jaw, broader shoulders, taller figure, deeper voice - it was hard to recognize the Jihoon you’d known and the Jihoon in front of you as the same person.
His parents’ job made their family move around a lot - your town had been their fifth home since Jihoon’s birth already. The year and a half they stayed went by far too quickly, and before you knew it, you already had to say goodbye. Jihoon and Junkyu had grown really close in that year, and since you were always in your older brother’s business at that time, you’d developed a liking for your brother’s best friend, too. You liked the way he’d ruffle your hair whenever he came over to your house, the way he remembered strawberry milk was your favorite, and the way he’d wave at you in the school hallways, effectively making you cooler than all of your friends for knowing someone who was in the year above. At the time, you hadn’t known if what you felt for him could be described as a crush - all you knew was that for the rest of high school, you missed him. 
When you found out that he had not only come back to South Korea to study, but that he was attending the university of your dreams, you couldn't have been more excited. But you chalked it up to the relief of knowing someone in an otherwise unfamiliar place.
Jihoon had been even more welcoming than you’d expected. He had come to get you at the airport with a big, colorful Welcome Y/N banner, helped you move into your dorm and treated you to a meal the night you arrived in town. Over the following weeks, he’d introduced you to his friends, showed you around campus, and kept inviting you out “so you would know where the good spots were.”
Thanks to him, settling in had been a much less stressful and emotionally exhausting process than you’d expected. But no matter how grateful you were, you couldn’t help but wonder why he was going to these lengths to welcome you. 
Somewhere in the town center, there was a square that was extremely popular among skaters for a reason beyond your understanding. But at almost any time of the day and night, you could find people practicing their skating there. You’d just left a bar nearby with Minjeong, Jihoon and his friends, and to an intoxicated you, skating, something you had never attempted before, seemed like the thing to try out right then and there. You ran up to the first skater you found and asked him if he could show you how to ride.
Minjeong had run after you, finding a skater of her own while Jihoon’s friends either watched or talked about something else amongst themselves. Of course, the inevitable happened, and as soon as the skater let you try skating on your own, you’d fallen on your hands and knees. In a flash, Jihoon had been by your side, frantically asking if you were okay and making you show him your palms. They were only grazed, and one of your knees was bleeding very faintly, but Jihoon acted like you’d just broken something. He got you to get on his back so he could carry you to the nearest pharmacy, leaving his friends and Minjeong to wonder what the hell was going on. You tried telling him you were okay and could walk on your own just fine, but he wouldn’t listen. 
He’d sat you on the curb in front of the all-night pharmacy and asked you to wait as he got disinfectant and bandages. You watched his face closely as he rubbed medical alcohol on your wounds. A crease had plagued his eyebrows ever since you fell, and he would not stop mumbling something about you needing to be more careful and you’re lucky you didn’t get hurt badly.
You hadn’t realized you were crying until one of your tears fell on Jihoon’s hand, hot against his skin, and he looked up at you with worry, any of his previous frustration with you wiped from his expression.
“Y/N? Why are you crying?” he’d asked, voice soft, as if trying not to scare you.
You sniffled. “Why are you so nice to me?”
His eyes softened and a small smile grew on his lips. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
You couldn’t bring yourself to mirror his smile, and the more you cried, the sadder you felt. Inexplicably, your tears just fell and fell and fell. Under the bright white lights of the pharmacy, in the cold of a particularly chilly September night, Jihoon wrapped an arm around you and let you cry on his shoulder. He didn’t ask any further questions, just waited for you to calm down as he rubbed a hand up and down your back and whispered in your ear that it was okay.
When you thought back on it now, you knew that it had just been the alcohol making you unreasonably emotional - you weren’t actually sad about Jihoon looking after you, if anything, it made you happy. But once you’d started crying, you couldn’t stop.
“I’m just looking out for you,” he’d said once your sniffling had somewhat lessened. You’d leaned back to look at him. 
“But why?” you’d whined.
Your frown had deepened as his smile had widened. “Because we’re friends.”
“Is that it?” 
“Well, Junkyu also asked me to look after you,” he admitted sheepishly. 
You gasped in affront. “He what?!”
“Y/N-”
“So he’s been forcing you to do all of this?” you asked, voice breaking at the end. Your anger had lasted two seconds - you’d gone back to being sad at the thought of Jihoon only being nice to you because your stupid big brother had asked him to.
“No, no, it’s not like that, listen to me-”
“I can’t believe the two of you! I’m not a child-”
“Nobody said you were-”
“So you don’t actually even care-”
“I do!” Jihoon had exclaimed, louder than you’d expected, and it shut you up. “I do,” he repeated, voice softer. His hands were still on your upper arms, and he leaned in closer. “You’re his little sister. Of course he was worried about you leaving home. He just asked me to make sure you don’t get into too much trouble,” he explained, lightly tapping the tip of your nose with his finger. 
He sighed, smiling as he watched you try to keep an upset expression on your face. He took the bandages out of the pack he’d just bought and stuck them with caution on your wounds. “But I wouldn’t be doing all of this if I didn’t care, Y/N.” When your eyes met again, you hadn’t known what to make of the look in his. “I missed you, you know.”
Just like that, the ducts behind your eyes filled up again, and large, hot tears streamed down your face as you rested your forehead against Jihoon’s shoulders again. He chuckled at your dramatics but placed a reassuring hand against your hair. “I missed you, too,” you replied between broken sobs.
He’d texted his friends to take Minjeong with them and go on without the two of you, then carried you back to his apartment, which was thankfully only a five-minute walk away. 
Ever since that night, you and Jihoon had been inseparable. He continued checking on you consistently, bringing you food and coffee without you even asking and, of course, getting you home safe from nights out. 
You were thankful to have a friend like him.
“Pancakes?!” your flatmate exclaimed as soon as she walked through the door, snapping you out of your thoughts.
“Hey, Minjeong,” you and Jihoon greeted in unison. 
She was wearing her clothes from last night and her hair was a mess, but she had a bright expression on her face (despite the faint mascara stains underneath her eyes). You narrowed your eyes at her but she made a beeline for the food, completely ignoring you.
“Hot,” she mumbled as she held a pancake between her fingers, but threw a piece in her mouth anyway. “You’re so lucky to have a boyfriend like him, Y/N,” she said around her food.
“Isn’t she?” Jihoon replied before you could say anything.
You rolled your eyes at the pair in front of you and poured a cup of coffee for Minjeong. She referred to Jihoon as your boyfriend so often that you didn’t bother to correct her anymore. “Not my boyfriend. And even so, he’s more like a bodyguard than anything.”
“Being a bodyguard is just one of the many duties of being a boyfriend,” Minjeong declared, easily ignoring you. “Don’t you agree, Jihoon?”
He nodded, a serious look on his face. “Absolutely. I take what I do very seriously.” When his eyes found yours, he shot you a wink. Your frown deepened. 
“Anyway, care to share why you’re coming home so late?”
A blush creeped on Minjeong’s cheeks. “Well, Yoshi’s place is quite a ways from here…” she murmured, looking down at her half-eaten pancake. 
“Called it!” you yelled, just as Jihoon let out a loud “no” of shock and defeat.
“Next takeaway is on you,” you told Jihoon with a proud smile. In a mature response, he stuck his tongue out at you.
Minjeong frowned at both of you. “You guys bet on this?” she asked, vexed. Jihoon exchanged a look, glanced back at her, and shrugged. “Not cool. I didn’t even know something would happen with him. How did you guess?”
You smiled. “You always go for the cute ones.”
She hummed in agreement, her expression almost a pained one. “He’s just the cutest little thing ever, I couldn’t help myself.” She took a sip of her coffee, cringing at the bitter taste before getting up to fetch sugar and milk.
You sighed at your friend. “You’re gonna break that poor boy’s heart.” You knew Minjeong wasn’t to blame for the boys that got attached to her when she made it clear she wasn’t looking for a relationship - but if it happened to Yoshi, you’d feel guilty. You’d met him in a tutorial for one of your Digital Media courses and he seemed like he wouldn’t hurt a fly. He’d invited you to do pres at his place, and you’d dragged Minjeong and Jihoon along, so they’d met through you. In a way, if Yoshi fell for Minjeong and got hurt, it’d be your fault.
“I told him I didn’t want anything serious,” she said, pouring as much milk as there was coffee in her mug.
“He doesn’t seem like the type to do casual stuff,” Jihoon chimed in as he placed the last pancake on top of the stack. But it was one pancake too many, and the whole stack fell over. Jihoon wasn’t rattled - he placed a few on his plate then rebuilt the stack.
Minjeong ate her last bite of pancake and got up from the stool. “Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
“We? This is your problem, babe,” you said.
Minjeong smiled at you, eyes crinkling as she pressed a wet kiss to your cheek. You were sure there was some pancake left on her lips. “You’re such a good friend, Y/N,” she said, making you laugh. Of course you’d help Minjeong if she needed - but you were starting to feel bad for all the hearts she kept breaking. “I’m going back to bed,” she announced. Then, she put her hand next to her mouth as if telling you a secret, but spoke loud enough for Jihoon to hear anyway: “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, is all I’ll say.”
Jihoon choked on his food and you let out a groan of disgust, but you both burst into laughter anyway. “I want details later!” you called out.
“You won’t be disappointed,” she said between giggles as she closed her bedroom door behind her. 
Just then, your phone buzzed with an incoming video call, Junkyu’s face taking up your screen. “Hey, ugly face,” you greeted, propping your phone up against the milk bottle.
“Hey, stink.”
“Hey, Kyu!” Jihoon called out and took a seat close next to you - you knew he was just trying to squeeze into frame, but the sudden proximity still made your breath catch in your throat for a second.
Your brother’s eyes narrowed. “What are the two of you doing together on a Sunday morning?”
You looked at Jihoon, then back at your screen. “Is there something wrong with Sunday mornings?”
“Not inherently, no…” your brother conceded. “But still.”
You rolled your eyes at him and his meaningless suspiciousness. “We just went to a party together last night and he crashed here afterwards.”
“She was so wasted I had to bring her home. And I made pancakes this morning.”
“Y/N, if you don’t marry this guy, I will,” Junkyu said with all the seriousness in the world, and Jihoon made a kissy face at him.
“What’s up with everyone today?” you sighed. “I’m going to shower. You two have fun.” You knew your brother probably didn’t have much to tell you anyway - he liked calling you for no other reason than to bother you. 
“Oh, we will,” Jihoon said with a suggestive tone, and you made a vomiting noise before disappearing into the bathroom. 
“When I told you to look after her, I just meant to make sure she doesn’t drink too much or get involved with weirdos. I didn’t mean to make her pancakes on Sunday mornings,” Junkyu teased, a knowing smile on his face. 
Jihoon looked down at his place, a small smile growing on his lips as well. “I know, but I like doing those things for her.”
Junkyu let out an odd noise, half out of disgust and half out of annoyance. “I can’t believe you. Just ask her out, already.”
“So you don’t like me at her place on a Sunday morning, but you want me to ask her out?”
Junkyu rolled his eyes (Jihoon thought this was a family trait, at this point). “I’m trying to help you out here, buddy. I know she’s my little sister, but you’re also my best friend,” he started, ignoring Jihoon’s aww, “and I don’t know how much longer I can stand you being in love with her but not making a move.” He paused to sigh. “I know you’re a good guy, so you have my approval, or whatever.”
Jihoon smiled somewhat sadly, picking at his food with his fork. “I appreciate it, Kyu, but I really don’t think she feels the same way.”
“How do you know that? Have you asked her?” Junkyu asked, not even trying to hide his impatience.
“No, but-”
“Do I need to do it for you? Do you want to hide behind my back while I tell my little sister, hey, my friend here has something he wants to tell you? Hey, my friend thinks you’re pretty, do you want to talk to him? Are you a big baby who can’t do anything, Park Jihoon?”
“No, I just-”
“You know, if this were a k-drama and you were the main lead, everybody would get Second Lead Syndrome. Me included. You suck.”
“Supportive as ever, Kyu,” Jihoon said, sighing.
“If you don’t ask her, you’re a bitch. I’m hanging up now,” Junkyu said before Jihoon could get another word in. He just shook his head, chuckling as he dug into his pancakes again.
The two of them had had this conversation about a thousand times, and they always came to the same conclusion: Junkyu thought Jihoon should confess his feelings to you, and Jihoon dismissed the idea, knowing he’d never have the guts to do it. To him, making jokes about being your boyfriend and relentlessly flirting with you was sign enough of his affection for you - you just needed to figure out that he wasn’t actually kidding at all. He was already doing half of the work for you, really. 
An hour later, the two of you were sitting on the fifth floor of the library, where nobody ever dared to venture because of its dark corners and maze-like rows of bookshelves. It creeped Jihoon out, but it was your favorite place to study, so on days he couldn’t convince you to go to a nicer spot, he sucked it up and followed you to the table you liked by a window that overlooked the park next to the campus. The window let some light in, but to get there, you had to go through dim hallways that looked like they hadn’t seen a human soul in years. Jihoon didn’t know how you’d found out about it in the first place. It felt like something a fourth-year would keep as a secret, not something a first-year would have discovered in her first months of attending uni.
As he observed your sleeping figure, Jihoon couldn’t help but feel slightly annoyed. You’d gotten about twenty minutes of work done before resting your head atop your crossed arms, claiming you would just take a “power nap.” He couldn’t believe you’d emotionally manipulated him (pouted up at him and gave him puppy eyes - with that look on your face, Jihoon would agree to murdering someone for you) into going to this creepy part of the library only to sleep almost immediately after getting there. 
He bent down onto his arms, mirroring your position, and let himself have this moment. Even though he saw you all the time, it wasn’t often that he could shamelessly stare at you and get away with it.
He watched as your shoulders rose and fell to the consistent rhythm of your breathing, as the sunlight pouring in from the window made your eyelashes cast shadows against your cheeks. You looked so peaceful that any trace of his irritation towards you vanished. It wasn’t like he could ever really be mad at you.
Jihoon loved how little you had changed in the years you’d been apart. Of course, you’d grown into your features and didn’t quite look like the thirteen-year-old version of you he’d known, but still, you had the same face and same habits he’d fallen in love with in the first place. 
He still remembered the way his heart had swelled when he’d found your face amongst the crowd at the airport, how his whole body had buzzed with excitement at the idea of finally seeing you again after all these years. When you’d received your admission email from your university, the first thing Junkyu had told Jihoon was that he’d better look after you. It wasn’t like he didn’t think you couldn’t handle yourself, but it reassured him, knowing someone he trusted so much would be there to help you adjust to university life, since he couldn’t do it himself. 
Jihoon had taken this seriously. Junkyu hadn’t given him any sort of instructions - the picking you up at the airport, introducing you to his friends, making sure you were well-fed and well-caffeinated, that was all him. At first, he tried convincing himself that he was doing this in an old friend, big brother fashion - he knew how close you and Junkyu were, so he fancied himself a sort of Junkyu 2.0 for you to rely on. 
It had been when he saw your red, puffy eyes, trembling lips and tear-stained cheeks that he realized his old feelings had resurfaced. After all, don’t they say you never really forget your first love?
Truth be told, that whole night had been a dead giveaway. From the moment you met up at the bar to his little nurse moment in front of the pharmacy, his heart had not stopped racing. He kept checking on you, making sure you were having fun and handling your alcohol, and stuck by your side the whole time, like a bee to a flower. 
He remembered standing arms crossed over his chest and observing you with narrowed eyes as you tried out skating. He was telling himself he was just watching in case you got hurt, but he couldn’t ignore the way his stomach twisted with a hot, unpleasant emotion as the skater guided you, hands on your waist. He didn’t like that you held that stranger by his shoulders, relying on him and not Jihoon for support, or that you laughed together like you’d been friends for years. Jihoon was your long-time friend, not this random long-haired, baggy-shirted, vans-wearing loser skater that probably had a name like Mark or something.
When you’d fallen from that skateboard, his heart had dropped in his stomach. He’d been sick with worry that you’d gotten badly hurt, and even upon seeing your barely-grazed palms and knees, he hadn’t been reassured. 
Seeing you cry had made him panic like crazy. He tried his best to comfort you, but had no idea whether he was doing a good job. For days after that night, he’d replayed the conversation the two of you had under the lights of the pharmacy. 
“Why are you so nice to me?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? I’m just looking out for you.”
“But why?”
“Because we’re friends.”
“Is that it?” 
Jihoon hadn’t known whether you meant, is that the only reason, or, are we only friends? But he’d thought the second question was wishful thinking on his part. So he told you about the promise he’d made to Junkyu, and that had somehow made you even more upset. Even though he hadn’t said it outright, he’d thought he had made it clear that he wasn’t only doing this because Junkyu had told him to - he also wanted to be there for you. He did care, more than he wanted to admit. 
Over time, his feelings for you had grown far bigger than simple teenage nostalgia - he loved your present self impossibly more than fourteen-year-old Jihoon had loved thirteen-year-old you. He thought he made it obvious - he always made sure to compliment you, remembered your coffee order and favorite dishes from your favorite restaurants, rushed to your side whenever you needed him, and did everything he could think of to support you. Sure, he relentlessly teased you as well, but that was just Jihoon.
If you noticed him, you didn’t show it. He wasn’t sure whether you genuinely didn’t know he wanted you as more than a friend or were playing dumb, but he knew you saw him as something like a second older brother. But Jihoon had come to terms with that - he’d rather be in your life as a friend than not at all.
This was why he was grateful for moments like these, when he could just look at you without you knowing. 
After five minutes, Jihoon quietly got up and bravely made his way through the dark hallways and back outside to get you a drink - in case you woke up grumpy from your nap, he knew a matcha latte would appease you. He almost got lost on his way back, but when he found your table again, you were still sleeping. He couldn’t help himself - before rousing you, he snapped a quick picture of your sleeping face, making sure to get the drool pooling at the corner of your lips in frame. The photo went into his Y/N folder, full of pictures and videos he’d both secretly and not-so-secretly taken of you, which, no, wasn’t creepy at all, thank you very much.
When he pressed one drink to your cheek and the other to your forehead, you woke up with a gasp, then immediately winced at the pain in the side of your neck from the uncomfortable sleeping position.
“I wasn’t sure whether you’d want a hot one or an iced one, so I just got both.”
“Ooh, iced, please,” you said. “Thanks, Hoonie.” But before you could grab the drink, he snatched it away.
“No drinking until you get at least one thing done,” he said, a satisfied smirk on his lips.
You frowned. “But the ice will melt and it’ll taste all watery.”
Jihoon didn’t want to give in so easily. 
“Hm?” you hummed, tilting your head at him.
Jihoon gave in, handing you your drink with a tut. Seeing your excited grin and hearing your sigh of contentment after taking a sip made it worth it. 
About two (surprisingly productive) hours later, your stomach started demanding nourishment, and who were you to deny it? Your hangover was strong that day, and even the pancakes and coffee hadn’t completely rid your mouth of its sour taste. You needed something salty and greasy, so you pitched going to the fried chicken place a few blocks down to Jihoon, who agreed immediately.
On the way there, you tried to recollect some moments from the party yesterday, but quickly realized that not much was coming to mind. Pre-drinks at Yoshi’s were clear in your head, and so was walking to the other party - but the better part of your memories after that were fuzzy or non-existent. 
“Hoonie?” you suddenly asked.
“Hm?”
“Did I do anything embarrassing last night?”
Jihoon chuckled. “Not more than usual.”
You groaned and pushed his shoulder, making him laugh even more. “I mean, you just kinda danced like crazy and talked to absolutely anyone. At some point you were gone for like twenty-five minutes, and I found you in the bathroom taking selfies with girls I’d never seen before in my life.”
You pulled out your phone and checked your gallery - indeed, there were about fifty pictures of you and some random girls. “Who are they?” you asked, more to yourself than to Jihoon, in disbelief at how comfortable last-night-you looked with these strangers. “They seem nice enough, I guess.” You laughed with Jihoon before sighing. “Well, that’s not too bad. I’ve done worse things.”
Jihoon made a face as if to say, Yeah, I know, and you rolled your eyes at him. You returned your gaze to the path in front of you, but if you’d kept on looking at Jihoon, you’d have noticed the smirk growing on his lips as a joke formed in his head. After some time, with a shit-eating grin on his face, he broke the silence. “Oh, well, there was also that moment when you confessed your undying love for me, tears streaming down your face, begging on your knees, all the works. That was pretty embarrassing. But I get it.”
It was so ridiculous that you couldn’t help yourself from laughing as you slapped his shoulder. “You wish,” you said between giggles.
I do wish, he immediately thought, but kept it to himself. He laughed instead and could only hope his real thoughts weren’t so obvious. 
--
Two things happened in the fried chicken shop restaurant.
Well, three, if you counted their promotion on their chicken rice cake coleslaw menu, which was your favorite and which Jihoon always chided you for ordering (“Anyone who likes coleslaw is not human”), but in the grand scheme of things, that wasn’t so important.
First, your mom called. Now, this wasn’t anything huge in itself, but it was Jihoon’s behavior that got to you.
You had gotten maybe five words before he snatched the phone from you and lifted it to his ear. “Hi, Mrs Kim!”
You heard a faint but enthusiastic “Hi, Jihoon!” on the other side of the line. They made small talk for a bit, and you couldn’t believe your mom could have forgotten about her only daughter so quickly. You’d dived back into your fried chicken, pretending you didn’t care about whatever it was they were talking so energetically about, until you heard your name on the other end.
Your and Jihoon’s eyes met. A mischievous smile spread across his lips and your gaze hardened. “Yes, well, you know her, she’s a bit of a nuisance, but I’m keeping her out of trouble and all that. I saved her from joining a cult the other day,” he said, and you rolled your eyes at him.
“Oh dear!” you heard your mother exclaim.
“You didn’t save me from anything, I knew what that woman was up to.”
You’d been waiting for Jihoon outside of the movie theater when an older woman approached you. She seemed friendly enough, and you thought she was just a lonely grandma in need of a nice discussion - which it was at first, until it veered towards religion. Next thing you knew, she was telling you stories about the upcoming end of the world and how we had to beg for salvation. You didn’t believe any of it, but you found it captivating, so you stood there listening to her and egging her on until Jihoon showed up and forced you out of there. You thought it’d have been funny if he’d listened along, but knowing Jihoon, a small part of him might have actually believed her and started freaking out.
“I didn’t know you and my mom were so chummy,” you said when the phone call was over. She hadn’t even asked to talk to you again.
“Your mom’s awesome. I can’t believe such a lovely woman gave birth to two gremlins like you and Junkyu. Are you sure you’re not adopted?”
It had seemed like nothing at the time, but when you played the scene over again in your mind that night as you lay in bed, the fact that Jihoon got along with your family filled your heart with an unexpected warmth. It was almost like he was part of the family himself - not in a third child way, but more in a if you brought him home to your family, he’d fit right in, a thought that had made you panic as soon as it’d appeared in your mind. Because why were you thinking of bringing Jihoon home? Why did it make you so happy, knowing he’d be welcomed with open arms?
You shook your head against your pillow, hoping it’d make those thoughts vanish. You reassured yourself by telling yourself that you’d be just as happy bringing a friend like Minjeong home, and that you were sure she’d get along just fine with your brothers and parents. 
The other sign had been much more straightforward. You weren’t afraid to eat messily in front of Jihoon, so some honey barbecue sauce had spread over the corner of your lips as you wolfed down one of the wings. As soon as Jihoon started to lean in across the table, you knew you were in trouble.
Not only did he wipe the sauce off your lips with his thumb, but he licked it off of his finger, never breaking eye contact throughout the whole ordeal. Your whole body tensed and you swear you stopped breathing for a second. 
It only really lasted maybe five seconds, but felt like hours to you. You glared at him for a bit before diving back into your chicken, hoping you didn’t look as flustered as you felt. But Jihoon and his stupid, proud smirk probably knew what he’d done to you. As if that wasn’t enough already, he even had the audacity to whisper cute under his breath. Your eyes snapped back up to his face, but he just smiled and nodded towards your food, telling you to keep eating. 
Over the next week, the word cute refused to leave your mind. You kept replaying that scene over and over - the feeling of Jihoon’s thumb on your lips, the sight of his own lips around his thumb, his gaze through it all. It wasn’t the first time such thoughts of Jihoon plagued you - once, he’d guided you through a crowded club with a hand on your lower back and the way the warmth of his hand against you had made you feel prompted you to ignore him for the rest of the night. Another time, he’d kissed you on the forehead after dropping you off at your apartment and you hadn’t been able to look him in the eyes for the following week. 
You took the small but meaningful events of that day as your second sign of your new odd feelings directed towards your best friend, feelings that you didn’t know how to name just yet.
--
Crazy rich Yoon Jaehyuk was having a pool party at his house, and basically everyone was invited. If you knew about the party, you could go - all Jaehyuk had to do was to tell maybe ten people and let them spread the word. As his partner for an English Linguistics class you had together that semester, you were one of those privileged people who’d known firsthand about the event and had made sure to tell everyone you knew to come. You shouldn’t have been so surprised to find what must’ve already been a hundred people on the front lawn, inside the house and around the pool when you showed up with Jihoon and the rest of your friends there.
Coincidentally, this was when the third sign occurred. Third time’s a charm, as they say, and the events of that night and those following cemented your growing hunch that something really was up.
Pre-drinks at yours and Minjeong’s place had already taken quite a toll on you. Jaehyuk lived at the edge of town, quite a ways from your flat, but the vodka cranberry you’d snuck in on the bus prevented you from sobering up during the long ride. When your group arrived at the party, both you and Minjeong were ready to dance. But before you could rush to wherever the dancefloor was, Jihoon caught you by the wrist, effectively stopping you in your tracks. Your eyes went from his fingers around your wrist to his smiling face, a surprised look on your own. 
“We’re gonna head directly to the pool. Don’t drink too much, okay?”
Your lips blossomed with a smile. Typical Jihoon. “Okay.”
The alcohol probably had something to do with it, but a surge of affection for your friend hit you and you stood on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek before taking Minjeong’s hand in yours and making a beeline in the direction of the music.
I Gotta Feeling by the Black Eyed Peas was calling your name and you didn’t think to turn around to look at Jihoon, so you missed the way he watched your figure retreating into the mass of drunk students as he tried to commit the warmth of your lips against his cheek to memory.
You and Minjeong made your way to the center of the crowd, shrieking with drunken excitement when you found a group of girls from one of your shared classes there and exchanging very brief pleasantries before falling into the rhythm of one of your all-time favorite party songs. In your humble opinion, no one understood partying like The Black Eyed Peas did.
You only leave the dancefloor on one occasion, which is to take a round of vodka shots with your new best friends for the night - Jihoon had said not to drink too much, not not at all. One of the girls (Yunjin, you thought, but she showed up to class so seldom you weren’t sure) had a trick of pouring a lick of strawberry syrup before the alcohol, so that you wouldn’t be hit with the nail polish remover aftertaste of vodka. You were delighted to find it worked (almost) like magic.
It’s about an hour later when you and Minjeong reach the pool, not quite sober but more so than when you’d arrived at the party. For a pool party, there were definitely less people there than inside the house, maybe due to the fact that it was the end of February and most people didn’t want to risk getting hypothermia from the temperature difference between the heated pool and the cold outside. 
The relatively small number of people makes it easy to spot Jihoon, in nothing but his swimming trunks and a towel around his shoulders, sitting on a longchair a dozen or so meters away from you. Something about half-naked Jihoon, you’re not sure what, makes you want to walk over to him and do… you’re not sure what, but Minjeong frantically slapping your arm and whispering your name stops you from doing whatever it was you wanted to do. 
“Y/N! Y/N! Yoshi is right there,” she whisper-yelled. Indeed, Yoshi was in the pool, not far from where you stood, playing with his friends you recognized from pre-drinks at his place the other day. Minjeong’s face was redder than you’d ever seen it, and you recalled a conversation you’d had earlier that day.
“Will Yoshi be there?” Minjeong had asked, trying to sound innocent.
You’d looked at your flatmate with an incredulous look on your face. “Yes, he’ll be there, you slut. I thought you never went for a second time?”
She’d shrugged, an unusually shy smile playing on her lips as she looked down at her feet. “I don’t know, we’ll see.”
This was very unlike Minjeong - in your six months of knowing each other, it was the first time you ever saw her even consider getting with someone a second time. You didn’t know what sort of spell this Yoshi guy had cast on your friend, but it must’ve been very effective. 
“Go talk to him,” you simply said.
“What?! No way, I can’t- Oh my God, he’s looking at us,” she said, words rushing out of her mouth, “he’s looking right at us, isn’t he?”
You just laughed at your friend and waved at Yoshi who was already waddling towards your edge of the pool. “Hey, Yoshi!” you called excitedly. At the sound of your voice, Jihoon’s head snapped towards you. He wasted no time in yelling your name, motioning for you to come over, so you gestured back that you’d be there in a minute. 
“Hey, Y/N!” Yoshi called back with the same tone. “Hey, Minjeong,” he added, tone somewhat quiet, but the blush that grew on his cheeks told you you weren’t the one he was most happy to see. 
“Hey, Yoshi,” she said so quietly, you weren’t sure the boy could even hear her.
“Nice to see you guys here,” he said, talking to you but glancing nervously at Minjeong. 
“You too!” you replied, and before he could add anything, you placed a hand on your friend’s shoulder. “Well, I’m sure the two of you have a lot to talk about. See you later!”
You grinned innocently at Minjeong as she called your name, eyes wide in panic. She was a big girl, and Yoshi was clearly into her - she could handle herself. Jihoon eyed you amusedly as you made your way towards him.
“Are you setting them up?” he asked when you were within earshot of him.
“I’d be a bad friend if I didn’t at least try. I’ve never seen Minjeong blush over a guy, so this must be serious.”
A few of Jihoon’s friends were hanging out next to him, people that you knew from the many parties you attended together but that you rarely saw outside of drinking contexts. You waved at them before sitting on the deckchair next to Jihoon’s. He pivoted in his seat to face you, seemingly not minding that he’d just turned his back to his friends, then scooched his chair closer to yours so that your knees touched. You rested your palms next to your thighs and kept your gaze down. Something about Jihoon kept you from meeting his eyes, tonight. Maybe it was the half-nakedness.
Jihoon eyed you for a little bit, wondering what was making you so unusually quiet, before looking behind his shoulder to check whether Minjeong had been able to make progress on her own.
“Looks like it’s going well,” he assessed.
You followed his gaze to find Minjeong sitting at the edge of the pool and kicking her legs in the water while Yoshi stood next to her, water up to his belly button. You smiled as they giggled and splashed each other - it was going well, indeed. 
“Have you been in the pool yet?” you asked, shifting your gaze to the party-goers playing in the water. The echoes of people talking and water splashing were quite loud, but Jihoon was so close that you didn’t need to raise your voice too much. 
“No, I just took my shirt off for the hell of it.” 
You had meant to bring your eyes up to his face, you really had - but somewhere on the way, they stopped on his abs, and got stuck there. It was probably a full five seconds before you could look away from the well-defined muscles on his stomach and finally meet his eyes. He didn’t need to say anything - the smirk playing on his lips and the slight surprise in the raise of his brows were enough to tell you he had not missed your stare. 
You looked back to the pool, eyebrows slightly creased in shame at having been so obvious. Thankfully, you had brought a drink with you and took a swig of it there. “I wouldn’t put it past you.”
You were trying to ignore the way Jihoon’s eyes burned into the side of your face, the way they followed your every move, but with each passing second, you felt more conscious of them. Not unlike one would try to escape a wasp, you thought that going into the pool might tear Jihoon’s eyes away from you at least for a little bit. It’s not that his gaze made you uncomfortable, like that of a random old man in the street would, but it definitely made you feel… things. Things that you didn’t necessarily want to dive into. 
The problem was that, to go into the pool, you’d need to get into your swimsuit. You’d thought ahead and had come already clad into your bikini underneath your clothes, a black, strapless tube dress that was easy to take off so you could jump into the pool at any time. But getting rid of that dress right in front of Jihoon and his watchful eyes was more nerve-wracking than you’d imagined. 
You downed the rest of your cup for some liquid courage and shot up from your seat, releasing a deep breath as you did so. You thought it was better to just get it over with than make it last any longer than it needed to. Jihoon’s eyes glinted with amusement as they followed your every move.
“Let’s go back in.” 
Your plan had been to lift your dress off of your body and head straight to the pool, but Jihoon’s gaze made you freeze in place after stripping. You couldn’t quite describe it as lustful, or as hungry, because there was a hint of surprise there that softened it. It was like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing and loving it at the same time, if the slowly growing smirk on his lips was anything to go by. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, a fire that made your knees turn to jelly and that rendered you close to breathless.
You let his curious eyes travel your body for a few seconds before clearing your throat. “Do you want a picture or something?” you asked ironically, hoping your voice didn’t sound as shaky as you felt.
His smirk only widened. “No need. The real thing is so much better.”
You tried not to cower under his shameless gaze, instead stood up straighter and stared right back at him. “My eyes are up here, you know.”
“I know,” he replied, but his eyes stayed trained on your body. You watched as they slowly made their way up your legs, took in your stomach and waist, then paused on your chest, which was quickly falling and rising with your shallow breathing. It was only when you scoffed and crossed your arms that he looked at your face.
Still that lopsided smirk on his lips, he stood up and languidly made his way towards you. He came so close that you had to slightly crane your neck to meet his gaze.
Your heart raced as he let a few seconds of silence stretch between the two of you, keeping his eyes locked in yours. “Nice eyes,” he murmured after a pause, the sudden depth of his voice sending a shiver down your spine.
After six months of seeing him almost every day, one would think Jihoon’s flirty personality would not have such an effect on you anymore. And most of the time, it didn’t - even back in the day, he was already fond of teasing you, so usually, him telling you how pretty you looked, patting your head or him tucking stray strands of hairs behind your ear went somewhat unnoticed by you. Or at least, it was easier not to freak out over “small” things like these.
But this was one of the times when you thought he was really pushing it, and you lost the ability to even eye-roll, which was your usual defense against his flirting attacks. You hated to admit, but you just couldn’t pretend it didn’t have an effect on you. You hated it because you knew he was just flirting as a joke, not because he was actually interested or anything of the sort, and you felt stupid that it still did something to you - although you sometimes doubted whether he really was doing it just for fun. You wanted to think he was acting the way he was on purpose, to get a reaction out of you. It’d make you feel less of a fool.
Before you’d even had time to understand the meaning behind his words, he’d already walked away from you and to the pool. When your senses had come back and you spun around, he was already inside the water. He looked like a cute wet puppy with his hair sticking out all around his head, especially when he shook it and let droplets of water fall off his hair and splash around him, and you couldn’t believe this was the same man that had essentially called your tits nice just moments prior.
The raging butterflies in your stomach were your third sign.
You must’ve stared long, because after a while, your eyes met again, and a smile reappeared on his face. An actual smile, this time, not a smirk or anything of the sort. As if nothing had just happened - as if it was absolutely natural for your best friend to practically devour you with his eyes like that. 
He waved you over and you noticed Minjeong and Yoshi were with him, seemingly waiting for you as well. When you reached the edge of the pool, someone entered the room with a platter of shots of God knows what, and you immediately reached out for one and downed it. Sambuca, you realized with relief as the sweet liquid burned its way down your throat. That way, if your body kept buzzing the way it had been around Jihoon, you could blame it on the alcohol and nothing else.
Minjeong and Yoshi were already back in their new little world, but Jihoon watched with an amused grin as you measured the temperature of the water with a foot, then, deeming it warm enough, made your way towards your friends. There, the water reached up to your shoulders, and the fact that it got up to just a little bit under Jihoon’s chest only marked your height difference further, which shouldn’t have made you as flustered as it did.
“Didn’t I tell you not to drink too much before going into the water?” Jihoon asked, laughter clear in his voice.
“How about you let me drink as much as I want, and make sure I don’t drown?” you bit back, even though you knew it wasn’t much of a comeback. You had spoken in an irritated tone that, going by the way his smile softened, Jihoon found cute.
“Okay, I will,” he said, and the sweetness in his tone only served to further unnerve you.
If he noticed your annoyance, he didn’t say anything. 
You let yourself be convinced to play a game of chicken fight against Minjeong and Yoshi, which (along with that shot of Sambuca) made your competitive streak kick in and allowed you to, at least momentarily, forget about your irritation towards your friend. The reason behind that irritation was something you didn’t even want to think about.
Somehow, you endured the prickling on your skin as Jihoon kept your thighs tightly pressed around his shoulders with two big hands. Even when he squeezed the flesh there or craned his neck to look up at you with those big, round eyes of his, you managed to not let the way your stomach flipped get to your head. 
You weren’t sure how you won all three rounds of chicken fight, if it was thanks to Jihoon’s devotion to the gym, or yours to the free weekly Sunday morning pilates class your uni gym offers. It might’ve been down to the level of complicity you and Jihoon had built over the months that Yoshi and Minjeong hadn’t reached yet (if that can even be a factor in chicken fight success) - all you know, is that you do, and that even underwater, Jihoon’s hands burn as they snake their way around your waist, and press your body flush to his in a celebratory hug.
Some time later, you sit at the edge of the pool by yourself, having been deserted by the two lovebirds who not-so-sneakily snuck away under the pretext of getting some drinks, as well as by Jihoon who was called by some friends to join him back in the pool. You were at the level of tipsiness that made you want to self-introspectively sit on your own and people-watch for a little bit.
Until someone broke your peace.
“Hey, Y/N,” you heard a vaguely familiar voice say. Before you could respond, Kim Sunwoo was sitting next to you, a bit too close in your opinion for your level of acquaintance, clad in black swimming trunks that let the band of his Calvin Klein underwear peek through. 
He wasn’t half bad-looking, you decided in that instant.
“Oh, hi, Sunwoo,” you replied, smiling as you unquestioningly accepted the drink he offered you and thanked him for it. You peered at the orange liquid and decided it was the right color for alcohol before taking a sip. It being orange vodka didn’t come as much of a surprise. “I didn’t know you knew my name,” you admitted.
You recognized Sunwoo’s face from the Introduction to Literary Theory lecture you’d had last semester, and had learned his name when the lecture had to be online due to the professor falling ill, and he was one of the few brave students who had turned his camera on. With a face like his, you understood where the confidence came from.
Then, one night out on the town with Minjeong and other friends, you’d run into him at the counter of a bar, and had exchanged a few (flirty, if you recalled correctly) words, but not your names, hence the slight confusion.
He chuckled and you watched as two deep dimples appeared on his cheeks. “I did my research before coming here. Sadly, no one knew what kind of drink you liked, so I went for something basic and prayed.”
“This is perfect,” you said, laughing.
“To be perfectly honest,” he starts after a slight pause, “I’ve seen you around campus, and we even saw each other at a bar once, didn’t we?” he asks, and grins when you nod. “I felt stupid for never asking for your name, or your number. So when I saw you sitting here, I thought it must be fate that brought me to this party.”
You had barely registered his words, let alone formed any sort of response in your mind when Jihoon suddenly appeared in front of the two of you, placing a hand right next to your thigh on the pool edge. You hadn’t noticed him swimming your way.
“Hey, Sunwoo. I see you’ve met my girlfriend,” Jihoon blatantly lies as if it was the most natural thing in the world. The shock is apparent on Sunwoo’s face, and if it wasn’t for the sweet, convincing smile Jihoon was looking at you with, you might’ve let your surprise show more.
Sunwoo didn’t know Jihoon like you did, so you didn’t know whether he noticed the tightness in his grin, the challenge in his slightly raised eyebrows, or the general way he was holding himself that screamed Leave. But he must’ve noticed something, because it only took him a few seconds to start nodding slowly and rise from his seat.
For some reason, you stayed quiet, letting the word girlfriend and the way it had rolled off Jihoon’s tongue so easily repeat over and over again in your head. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he had said it so convincingly that you almost questioned whether you actually were Jihoon’s girlfriend. Before you could think any more about it, however, Sunwoo broke the increasingly tense silence.
“My bad, man, I didn’t know she was taken. I’ll leave you two to it, then,” he said with a smile, and that was that. 
You watched his retreating figure for a bit, eyebrows creased in confusion, before snapping your head towards Jihoon. Head tilted, he was fixing you with a questioning look, as if to ask, What are you up to?, when he was the one that had just acted strangely.
“What was that all about?” you asked.
Jihoon shrugged. “I chased him away for you. I’ve only heard bad stuff about that guy, like he sleeps with a new girl every weekend and doesn’t treat them right.”
You thought for a second, bottom lip slightly jutting out in concentration. “Well, couldn’t you have told me about his reputation then let me make the decision for myself?”
“I-” Jihoon started but stopped himself. He seemed to mull over your words for a bit, then sighed. “You’re right, I guess I could have, but you’ve been drinking, who knows if you would’ve made the right decision?”
This made you furrow your brows. “So what if I did? Getting drunk and going home with a rando is not unheard of, I would’ve been fine. Just maybe ashamed tomorrow morning.”
A flash of annoyance swept across Jihoon’s features, and your curiosity couldn’t help but be piqued. The two of you had had your fair share of aimless arguments over the months, but he’d never actually gotten cross with you. For some reason, you were suddenly itching to know what angry Jihoon was like.
“I wouldn’t be fine with it, though. I’d hate knowing that I let you go home with a prick like that.”
This wasn’t the first time Jihoon had fended off guys for you during a night out, but to his credit, they weren’t ever guys you wanted to talk to. And, well, admittedly, after learning what he was like, maybe you didn’t want to talk to Sunwoo either, but Jihoon’s protectiveness tonight was bothering you more than it ever had. 
You let a silence stretch between the two of you before speaking again. “You- you can’t just do that, you know,” you declared, not meeting his eyes.
“Do what?”
“Act like you just did. Pretending to be my boyfriend just to get a guy away from me.” Jihoon was just staring at you silently, so you felt compelled to add,  “You’re not actually my boyfriend, you know.”
Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, because his jaw locked and a coldness you had never seen before appeared in his eyes.
“Aren’t I basically?”
That caught you off guard. Where was this coming from? Jihoon had never entertained the idea of being your boyfriend, ever, so why was he suddenly acting like he was? Like he had always been?
And yet, you found yourself toying with the idea of dating Jihoon once more. The one question that pervaded your thoughts was, would things be so different? You’d never had a boyfriend, so you weren’t sure what they did, but you thought it wouldn’t be too far off from how Jihoon treated you now. Keep you safe, bring you food, buy you random keychains or pencils that reminded him of you, text you throughout the day, compliment you. The only difference would be…
Your eyes drifted down to his lips, and you swore you heard a shaky intake of breath coming from the man right in front of you.
The thought had barely crossed your mind that panic rose in your chest. You could not be thinking about kissing Jihoon. You couldn’t think about him being your boyfriend, either. You weren’t sure why, but your sudden heart palpitations at the mere idea told you that you just couldn’t.
“No, you’re not.” You had wanted to speak firmly, but you feared your voice had come out shakier than intended.
To your surprise, Jihoon scoffed. “So if I went off and started dating someone else, it wouldn’t bother you?” he asked in a disbelieving, almost mocking tone.
“No, it wouldn’t,” you answered, and as soon as the words were out, you knew they were a lie. You scrambled to your feet, suddenly wanting to be away from this conversation and the way it made you feel. “I’ll, um, I’ll head back inside.”
You ignored his call of your name and picked up your dress, hastily sliding it back on as you made your way back towards the living room where most of the action was. You quickly found that it was too loud, too hot, too packed in there. You headed back outside through another door that led to a part of the backyard far from the pool, where people sat in small groups around a big fire, either nursing a drink or passing round a joint, the smell of weed heavy in the air. At least it was quiet here.
You walked around some before spotting Jaehyuk, the man of the house himself, sitting on his lonesome on a swing bench in a dark corner of the garden, looking down despondently into a red solo cup. A couple hours into the party, this was the first time you saw him, you realized. It made you wonder how long he’d been sitting out here on his own.
“Hey, Jaehyuk,” you greeted, catching him by surprise. You took a seat next to him, sliding your hands underneath your thighs to keep them warm.
“Oh, hey, Y/N. Nice that you came.” He mustered a smile for you before taking a swig from his cup and cringing at the taste of what must’ve been alcohol.
“What are you doing out here by yourself?” you asked softly. You were used to cheery, smiley Jaehyuk, and even though you weren’t very close, you couldn’t help but be saddened by seeing your friend in such a state.
Jaehyuk sighed deeply. “The girl I planned this party for isn’t here.”
“The girl you… planned… this party for?” you echoed, and he nodded. “You mean this,” you said, gesturing to the house and backyard full to the brim with people, “is all for one girl?”
He sighed and nodded again, taking another sip from his cup. He tutted at the drink, or maybe at himself for drinking it when he knew how awful it tasted. “I wanted an excuse to see her outside of class.” He chuckled. “I realize now that I might have gone slightly overboard.”
“Just a bit,” you laughed along, watching as a group of stoners cheered at their friend who had found marshmallows and sticks God-knows-where. “It’s not even midnight yet, she might still be coming.”
Jaehyuk shrugged. “I’ve stopped hoping. I think I just need to get into the party and forget about it for tonight.”
You smiled. “Sounds like a plan.”
“What about you, what made you escape out here? The music not to your liking?”
“Are you kidding? This is the Danish alternative pop playlist of my dreams,” you said, earning a chuckle from him. “No, I just…” You realized you didn’t even know how to talk about this. What was making you so upset?
“I got into a bit of a… squabble with my friend, if you will. He-”
“Oh, so it’s a he?” Jaehyuk cut in, a knowing smile on his face.
“No- I mean, yes, he is, but it’s not like that, it’s- it’s…”
“It’s?” he egged on.
“Ugh, fine, it might be like that,” you finally admitted, as much to Jaehyuk as to yourself. Your irritation made him laugh.
“It’s okay, it happens.”
“I didn’t think it would happen to me, though.”
“Why not?”
You sighed. “Just ‘cause… him and I, we’ve known each other for such a long time, it feels weird that things would start changing now.”
“How long have you known each other?”
“We met when we were thirteen and fourteen. Then he moved away and we only met again in September last semester.”
“Did you keep in touch?”
“Not so much. I just heard from him through my brother, they’re much closer.”
“So… what I’m hearing is, you’ve known each other a long time, but you’ve only really become friends since September, right?”
“Right,” you echoed dubitatively, wondering where Jaehyuk was going.
“Y/N, that’s just a bit over six months.”
“...So?”
“So, that’s not nearly as long as you make it out to be. It’s not like you’ve been best friends for years and things are suddenly changing. Six months… aren’t that short, I’ll give you that, but I think it’s a reasonable time for people to get closer as friends and then start developing feelings.”
“Feelings?” you immediately echoed, panic evident in your voice.
Jaehyuk let out something like a chuckle, looking at you like he was figuring out whether you were joking or not. “Is that not what this whole thing is about?”
You dropped your gaze down to your thighs, frowning. “Feelings just sound so serious…”
“They can be, but they don’t have to.” After a few seconds of silence, he noticed your upset expression and nudged your shoulder good-naturedly. “What’s worrying you so much?”
“It’s just confusing. I… It’s not like I’ve been totally indifferent towards him up ‘til now, but there’s something about him lately, especially tonight. It makes me actually wonder about… you know. Whether I want him as a friend or not.” You sighed. “And even if I am feeling… feelings, I don’t know how he sees me. I could still be a sort of little sister in his eyes, for all I know.”
“What makes you think that?”
A small smile grew on your lips as you blew air from your nose. “Junkyu - my older brother - tasked him with looking after me when he learned I was going to attend this university with him. So, while I go crazy trying to figure out why he acts the way he acts and why I feel the way I feel, he might just be keeping a promise to my brother.”
“But have you ever seen him as an older brother?”
“No,” you replied immediately. Your surety almost took you aback. “Jihoon is… Jihoon. He’s definitely not Junkyu.”
Jaehyuk smiled. “Then I don’t think he would see you as a little sister, either. The way you act with a sibling and with a friend, potentially someone you like, is very different. I don’t think there’d be room for question if he treated you as a younger sister, you’d just know. Most guys I know are very obvious when they like someone, me included, so if you’re thinking about this so much just because of the way he acts with you… well, you’re probably onto something.”
“You think?” 
“I do.” 
You and Jaehyuk stayed outside chatting for a few more minutes until you decided to go back inside for some warmth and a refill of your empty cups. In the kitchen, you ran into some of your classmates, so you joined in their animated discussion on which version of The Sims is better (Asahi offended everyone by saying the mobile app was the best) instead of going looking for Minjeong and Jihoon like you had intended to.
A few minutes later, as your phone buzzed with six consecutive texts from your roommate, you found out where both of them were. 
minjeong girl do u know how many bedrooms there are in this goddamn house??!!!! yoshi and i are spending the night here xxx ask jaehyuk if he has a room for u or get home w jihoon whos that girl he’s talkin to in the kitchen btw??? love yaa xxxxxoooo text me if u need anything!! i’ll be busy but i’ll keep my phone on ;)
Usually, you’d have rolled your eyes at the exorbitant amount of x’s and the cheesy winky face, but something else had got your attention. Suddenly stepping away mentally from the conversation (which had turned into an interrogation on Asahi’s suspected addiction to mobile games), you looked around the crowded kitchen until your eyes settled on your culprit.
From where you were, you only had a view of his side profile, just as Minjeong had said, Jihoon was talking to a girl, red solo cup in his hand and stupidly attractive smile on his lips. She was leaning against the wall while he stood in front of her, both looking as relaxed as if they had known each other for years. What was up with all that eye contact? What was making them smile so hard?
You hadn’t realized how hard you were staring until Jaehyuk’s voice broke through your thoughts, asking if you were okay. 
“You look like you want to kill someone,” Sumin joked, not knowing she was closer to the truth than she thought.
You tried to laugh it off, saying you were just deeply disturbed by Asahi’s predicament, but you couldn’t keep yourself from glancing back at Jihoon and the girl every thirty seconds. Another girl arrived, and Jihoon shifted to make room for her so that he was now directly facing you. Over the chatter of the kitchen and music booming from the speakers in the living room, you couldn’t hear anything they were saying, but it seemed like Girl #1 was introducing Jihoon to Girl #2, placing a palm on his bicep as she did so. You counted - that hand stayed there for four whole seconds, and when she finally took it off of him, your eyes drifted back to Jihoon’s face.
Jihoon, who was staring right at you. Jihoon, who raised his eyebrows at you as if to say, What about it? while yours were creased in - confusion, anger, you weren’t sure what, but an ugly feeling you weren’t accustomed to. Jihoon, who, you decided, had to know what he was doing, had to know how this was making you feel.
The only thing on your mind was getting out of here and taking Jihoon with you. Without thinking much, you fished your phone out of your sweater pocket, texted Jihoon Let’s go and said bye to your friends, lying that your friend had suddenly asked you to leave.
After a few minutes of waiting by yourself outside in the cold, crouching to maximize body warmth, you started to wonder if Jihoon had decided to not follow you. But when you felt a weight drop on your shoulders, you snapped your head up to find him smiling down at you. 
“Where did you get this?” you asked, meaning the blanket he had given you.
“I stole it from the living room.”
“Jihoon,” you scolded.
“You know the guy right? Just give it back to him this week,” he said, lowering himself down to your level. Similarly to your eye contact in the kitchen, you were still frowning while he kept on smiling. “Not like you to want to leave before one a.m.. Is something the matter?” he asked, and you debated whether he was faking his innocence or not.
For about ten seconds, you tried to stay quiet, not wanting to betray your feelings to him. You glared ahead of you, watching your breath form wisps in the late February night air. 
But then he called your name so softly, it undid all of your resolve. The sound of it made you sigh.
“Who was that you were talking to?” you finally asked, voice barely above a whisper.
“Hm? That was just Shuhua, she’s a Tawainese exchange student from one of my classes. Then she introduced me to her friend Yuqi.”
You nodded slowly, still not meeting Jihoon’s gaze. “I didn’t know there was a Taiwainese exchange student in one of your classes.”
“Y/N?” The unexpected seriousness with which he had called your name forced you to look at him.
“Hm.”
“I have something to tell you.” He must’ve noticed your sudden inability to speak, so he continued, lowering his head to be at eye-level with you. “There’s a Taiwainese exchange student in one of my classes.”
A smile broke through his serious facade and you had to look away to hide your own growing grin. “You’re stupid,” you said, but it only made Jihoon laugh.
“So is that what this is all about? A little bout of jealousy from my Y/N?”
You didn’t know what to focus on - the fact that he had finally put a name to what you were feeling or the face that he had called you his. It made you frown. “I wasn’t jealous,” you said, aware of how unbelievable you sounded.
“No? Then what made you want to leave so suddenly?”
“I- You-” you started, glaring at Jihoon when he snickered. “How come I can’t talk to guys but it’s okay for you to talk to girls?” 
“So you are jealous.”
“No, I just think you’re being unfair. I’m calling you out on your hypocrisy, Hoon. Double standards and all that.” 
Jihoon grinned. Had he known that he’d get such a reaction from you after talking to a friend that happened to be a girl, he’d have done it much earlier. And yet you had never had a problem with any of the girls in his usual friend group - if anything, the bunch of you often ganged up against him - so he wondered what was wrong with Shuhua in particular. Was it because you didn’t know her, and misunderstanding could arise?
His smile and eyes softened. No matter how adorable you looked to him right now, he wasn’t one to play games with feelings, his or yours. It was hard enough to make you realize how much he liked you (although he hoped that scene at the pool had made things more apparent), so he wasn’t going to make it even more confusing by letting you think he might like someone else.
Earlier, when he’d asked you if him dating someone else would bother you, and you’d answered no, he hadn’t formed any plan whatsoever to go off and talk to another girl right in front of you. Things just happened in his favor. He’d been talking with a whole group of people in the kitchen, but save for Jennifer, they’d all left for a game of spin the bottle (at their grown college age). Shuhua had a boyfriend back home and he had you, so they both had no interest for it. So it was just the two of them bonding over their love for Taylor Swift’s music when you appeared in the kitchen with Jaehyuk. 
Did he also feel a pang of jealousy seeing you with another guy, even though it was just Jaehyuk and he already knew of your friendship? Perhaps, but this wasn’t anything new with Jihoon. He didn’t think he’d be able to get rid of it until he had the surety that you were his, which had felt like a faraway goal until recently. Maybe it was due to his growing boldness or maybe you had managed to piece everything together yourself, but he was sure he’d felt a shift in your attitude towards him lately. There were times you would get shyer than usual, refusing to look him in the eyes; other times, like tonight, you’d defy him, as if trying to prove to both him and yourself you didn’t feel any sort of way towards him. But he hadn’t missed the way your eyes had drifted down to his lips and stayed there for a few seconds, hadn’t missed your panic when things seemed to get too real.
Just like you, although he didn’t know about that, he also found that there was something different about tonight, some tension between the two of you that was bound to explode. The fact that you were both in swimsuits had probably not helped. As soon as he’d seen you in your black tube dress, his imagination had started running wild. The way you casually had a gray zip sweatshirt of his in your room and donned it before leaving your place had made it harder to not just keep you in your apartment while the others went off to the party, and seeing you in your bikini was like the final boss he hadn’t been able to defeat. Keeping his eyes off of you was simply impossible. He wasn’t sure how he had resisted kissing you right then and there, showing everyone who the prettiest girl in the room - hell, at this party - belonged to.
(Jihoon had a bit of a possessive streak.)
Even now that you had somewhat made up, he still felt the changed air around you, like there was no going back from here. No pretending there were no unsaid feelings anymore - at least, that’s how he felt. If you needed the extra push to realize either his feelings, your own, or both, he didn’t mind initiating it. If anything, he had been waiting for it.
So he made sure to clear things up. “I didn’t want you to talk to Sunwoo because I knew he had bad intentions. Or at least selfish ones. Shuhua has a boyfriend, nothing was gonna happen there.”
“Oh, but if she didn’t, something would’ve?”
“No, Y/N. No,” Jihoon said firmly. 
“Why not? She’s pretty.” You knew you were being unreasonable at this point, arguing for the sake of arguing, but you couldn’t help yourself.
Jihoon sighed before placing a hand at the top of your head, brushing your hair gently. “I know someone who’s prettier.”
You turned your head slowly to look at him and were met with a sight you forever wanted to keep in your heart. Jihoon was looking down at you, eyes soft and filled with an emotion you wanted to describe as adoration, corners of his lips upturned into a sweet smile. You wanted to reach out and touch his cheek, feel the warmth of his skin under your palm and make sure he was real, but you were too stuck in his gaze to move.
“I actually know the prettiest girl in the world. I’m very lucky.”
You continued staring at each other for a few seconds or maybe a few hours, until he booped your nose and stood up. “Our Uber’s here, pretty girl.” 
You took his extended hand in yours and let him help you up, still in a daze as he opened the car door for you and rushed to the other side. You didn’t expect the relief you felt when he took your hand in his again as the Uber started driving. As the driver and him made minimal small talk, you watched out the window, but you couldn’t hear or see anything - you could only focus on Jihoon’s fingers intertwined with yours. Had hand-holding always felt so natural?
Even once you reached your apartment and you had to let go of it to get out of the car, the only thing you wanted was to have it again. 
You didn’t notice right away, as you punched in the code for the entrance to your apartment building, that Jihoon had stayed behind on the pavement. A light rain had started and his hair, all curled up from the pool, shone with small beads of water that the streetlights reflected on. 
“Aren’t you coming up?” you asked, turning around to face him and leaning against the door so it wouldn’t close.
“Not tonight,” he simply said, and you hesitated to ask him why. Whatever it was, he must have his reason, and you would see him again soon anyway, so you dropped it.
“Okay.” You nodded and hoped you didn’t sound as disappointed as you felt. 
You thought that would be it, but then he took a step closer to you, then another, until he was standing right in front of you. The doorstep made you taller so that your eyes were on a parallel with his lips, on which they naturally fell. No matter how confusing tonight might have been, if what you thought was about to happen actually did happen, you knew there was not a cell in your body that would resist it.
Jihoon leaned in closer and closer, until he was right there, and your lips would touch any second - but he leaned to the right, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips instead. You stood with bated breath as he leaned back, wearing a proud smirk. “Good to know you wouldn’t push me away if I tried to kiss you,” he said, but on this rare occasion, you were speechless. 
His smirk softened to a smile as he ruffled your hair. “Good night, Y/N.”
It wasn’t until he had reached the corner, turning around and waving at you to go into your building before disappearing that you snapped out of it and made your way to your apartment. As soon as you’d shut your front door behind you, you realized just how disappointed you felt that Jihoon hadn’t come up like he usually did, how much you missed the reassurance of having him there, even if the two of you were a room apart. 
You also realized you didn’t want any walls to separate you anymore.
And there you had it - the signs were too obvious to ignore anymore. The heart flutterings, the thoughts of him invading your mind day and night, the jealousy. The constant longing to be with him.
You were in love with Park Jihoon.
--
You fell into a deep sleep for about four hours, before waking up with a start.
You were in love with Park Jihoon.
What had seemed like a comforting thought at the time now freaked you out to no end. Park Jihoon was your best friend, your brother’s best friend, someone you’d met so long ago he’d known you during your embarrassing bangs phase of 2015 (BangGate, as your friends from home inappropriately liked to call it).
You were great as friends, sure, but how would you fare if things went further than that? There was no way for you to know other than by trying it firsthand. Did you want to take that leap, and risk falling face first - or chance falling right into his arms?
For some reassurance, you got your laptop out and went to Google. At first, you intended to search some YouTube videos or blog posts about successful best-friends-turned-lovers stories, but something deep inside your brain compelled you to type Omegle in the search bar. Even if it was five a.m. for you, it’d be a reasonable time of the day for people with good relationship advice somewhere, right?
In your interests, you typed love, relationship and advice, hoping this would lead you to your savior. After skipping a few naked men who apparently were into love too, two young girls appeared on your screen who, going off of their accent, were British. They looked about eleven and were doing their nails, not paying attention to their screen. NewJeans was playing in the background.
They were perfect.
“Hey, girls!” you said, cringing at the sound of your own voice.
They raised their heads in unison, looking at you for a second before coming closer to the screen, all wide smiles. One of them had braces with pink elastics. “Hey, girl!”
You decided you had no time to lose, so you directly told them you needed advice with a boy you liked. They nodded vigorously. So you told them everything - from how you and Jihoon had met, to reconnecting in September, to the events of the past few months (including a detailed rundown of what happened at the pool, which they loved). They even insisted on seeing a picture and squealed when you showed them. Your Jihoon really was handsome.
“So? What do you think I should do?” you asked when you were done recounting everything.
“I have this thing I do whenever I fancy someone,” the girl on the right started, while the other one munched on some sour candy. You nodded for her to continue. “It really helps me know if I should keep fancying them or if they’re not worth it. It’s called a compibi- compa- combali- Rosie, what was it again?”
“A compatibility test,” Rosie said, tongue blue from her candy.
“Right, that. It works like magic. Just the other week I thought for sure Leo was the cutest boy in school but then I did the test thing and got forty percent with him and a few days later he was dating Sarah anyway.”
“Sarah is terrible,” Rosie chipped in.
“Oh no!” you exclaimed.
“Yeah, really bad,” the other girl said, nodding. “But then, I did it with Martin and got eighty-six percent and we’ve been dating for ten days now, we have,” she finished proudly.
“That’s amazing.” You didn’t know if it was the lack of sleep or the conviction with which the girl spoke, but you were hooked. “How do I do it?” you asked, although you’d probably done it when you were their age too.
“Oh, it’s easy. You just type the comp- Rosie?”
“Compatibility.”
“That, test on Google and click any one of them and type in your name then his. Any of them will do, I’m sure,” she shrugged, reaching for a candy. 
“Okay, let me do it right now. Gimme a sec.” After a few clicks, you’d reached an early 2010s-style website called lovecalculator.com, all pink and cupids shooting their arrows into the sky. You typed in your name, then Jihoon’s, then pressed a shaky finger to the Enter bar.
“Oh my gosh!” you squealed. “We got ninety-nine percent!”
“Oh my gosh!” the girls yelped back, clapping and hugging each other in celebration.
“Girl, you need to go tell him right now,” non-Rosie said firmly.
“Right now,” Rosie echoed.
You pouted. “I can’t, it’s five a.m. right now.”
“You better go later then! You two are meant to be! You’ll last at least like, a month or two.” 
“At least.”
After thanking and saying good-bye to your new best friends, you spent a good three minutes staring at the big 99% in bright pink on your screen. This randomly generated number made you so happy that you took a screenshot and printed it out on Minjeong’s printer in the living room, then put it on your fridge for you to admire. You used a magnet Jihoon had gifted you for Christmas - it was a four-cut photobooth picture of you two you’d taken at the Christmas market. You thought you’d only taken the paper version, but he’d made you go get food for the both of you while he bought the magnet version as well.
Your mind at ease, you started heading back to your room, but you ran into someone right as you walked out of the kitchen.
You looked him up and down. Yoshinori was standing in your living room half-naked, looking like a deer caught in headlights. 
“H-hey, Y/N,” he said, breaking the silence first. “I’m sorry, I thought you were sleeping…”
“I woke up early,” you replied, unable to keep yourself from smiling at his awkwardness. “What are you doing?”
“Just, um, just getting some water.”
“And you have to come to my apartment to do that?”
“No, I, um- Someone called the cops, so Jaehyuk kicked all of us out.”
“I thought you were in a room somewhere?”
“Yeah, but we went outside to see what was happening, and he saw us, so we had to leave.”
“Right… Well, glad you made it back home safe.” The strangeness of the situation suddenly hit you, and you realized you should probably let the half-naked man get his glass of water and leave. “I’ll go back to my room, then.”
“Oh, right, see you, Y/N. And sorry.”
“No worries!” you said, waving his apology off and scurried off to your bedroom. You plopped into your bed with a satisfied sigh, hugging a plushie Jihoon had won for you at an arcade close to your chest. He really was everywhere.
When you woke up next, sunlight was pouring from the window into your room. You checked your phone - nine a.m.. Not early enough to go to late sleeper Jihoon’s place, but definitely early enough to call your probably still sleeping brother. You had to tell someone about your newfound revelation, and Minjeong next door was either asleep or busy.
Your phone rang with an outgoing call for so long that you thought Junkyu might simply not pick up. “I’m in love with Jihoon,” you blurted out as soon as your brother’s face appeared on screen. 
He paused for a second, taking your words in, then yawned and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “Good morning to you too, Y/N.”
“I’m in love with Jihoon,” you repeated, more insistently.
“I heard you the first time.”
“Well, what do you think?!” you asked, impatience rising. You couldn’t believe your brother could be sarcastic in an emergency like this.
Junkyu frowned. “Uh, congratulations?”
You tutted. “Kyu, I’m serious about this!”
“I know, I can tell,” he said, chuckling. “Are you going to tell him?”
“I think I have to. I think… I think he feels the same way about me, actually.”
Junkyu rolled his eyes. “No shit, Sherlock.”
You paused. “Huh?”
“Everyone and their mom knows he’s in love with you, we were just all waiting for you to see it.”
“Huh?!” Junkyu shrugged. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
Your brother sighed. “Some things in life, you have to figure out on your own, sis. Like taxes.” You just frowned at him. “Well, how did you figure it out?”
“Now that you say it, I guess I should’ve noticed it earlier. But really what happened is I saw him talking to a girl.”
“Put the man in jail!”
“Shut up. And then we talked for a bit, and he didn’t outright say it, but he heavily implied that he… liked me.”
Junkyu scoffed. “That’s an understatement.”
You ignored your brother. “But I don’t know if I should wait for a bit or go tell him now-”
“Y/N. Please, put that man out of his misery and go tell him now.”
“Don’t you think he’d get upset if I confessed first? You know Jihoon, he gets proud about random things like that.”
“Believe me, he won’t care. He’ll just be happy you like him back after all this time.”
You thought for a second, a small smile blooming on your lips. “Does he really like me that much?”
Junkyu sighed. “He’s been harping on about you since we were fourteen. He probably keeps a diary or a boyblog where he just writes about you. Just go get him, girl.”
Your smile grew wider and your heart started beating faster, excitement growing in your stomach at the thought of seeing Jihoon again. “Okay, I will.” You and your brother stared at each other for a second, eyes wide in anticipation, until something struck you.
“Wait… You don’t mind, do you? Your sister and best friend dating?”
“I l-word both of you, so no, I don’t mind. I trust you both enough to not hurt each other. But I’m still your brother, so if that prick does anything to hurt you, I’ll kick his ass, okay?”
“Kyu, he bench-presses your weight as a joke.”
He squinted his eyes at you. “I’ll metaphorically kick his ass, then.”
“And what if I hurt him?”
Junkyu thought for a second. “I’ll… give you the silent treatment for a few days.”
“How scary,” you laughed.
“Anyways, congratulations in advance and all that, but for my mental health please pretend you’re not a couple in front of me and remember that premarital sex is a sin.”
“Will do! Bye, Kyu!”
--
Right after hanging up with your brother, you texted Jihoon, asking if you could come over. You quickly got ready, doing affirmations in the mirror to calm yourself down, and as soon as your phone pinged with Jihoon’s answer (miss me already?), you were out the door. It was usually a thirteen-minute walk between your and Jihoon’s place, but with the power of love, it only took you eight.
You felt like your body had gone on autopilot - instead of practicing over and over what you would say to him in your head, imagining all the terrible ways it could go or pacing back and forth in front of his apartment building, you just walked, the loud thumping of your heart in your ears drowning everything else out. You’d just get there and get it over with. 
Even when you had to wait for seven seconds (you counted) for Jihoon to open the door after you’d rung the doorbell, you didn’t start panicking. 
“Hey, Y/N, I just ordered some-”
“I love you.”
“Breakfast… You what?”
“I love you, Hoonie,” you beamed. The relief of letting those words free made tears pool in the corner of your eyes.
Jihoon just stared at you, mouth agape and expression like he couldn’t believe what was hearing. Reaching for your hand, he brought you closer to him and shut the door behind you, eyes never once leaving yours. Then, he pulled you into a hug, one so tight you’d be worried about your blood circulation being cut off if it wasn’t Jihoon’s arms you were in. 
“Can you say it again, please?” he asked, nose buried in your hair and voice weak like you’d never heard it before.
You tightened your hold around his waist. “I love you,” you whispered.
“Again?”
“I love you,” you repeated, giggling.
He laughed too, more out of relief than anything. “I love you, too.”
He leaned back and raised his hands to gently cup your face in his palms. The both of you were smiling like idiots from ear to ear, gazing into each other’s eyes. Tears streamed down your cheek and he wiped them away with a thumb before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
“Took you long enough,” he said, making you laugh again.
“I know, I’m sorry.”
Jihoon shook his head. “Don’t be. You have no idea how happy I am right now.”
“I’m happy for you guys and all, but could you like, not do this here?” a voice interrupted you. You looked behind Jihoon’s shoulder to find Hyunsuk, one of his roommates, on the living room sofa, watching Brooklyn 99. You hadn’t even noticed him. In his defense, you were declaring your love for each other right next to him in the entrance hallway. 
“Oh, right, sorry, Suk. Let’s go into my room,” he said, tugging at your hand. 
The both of you burst into giggles as soon as the door shut behind you. Jihoon wasted no time in pulling you into another hug, and it felt like your whole body sighed as you let his warmth engulf you. You cursed yourself for not letting yourself have this earlier. You gently rocked from side to side together, as if slow dancing to a melody only the two of you could hear.
“I guess a little jealousy goes a long way, huh?” Jihoon said after a minute of silence.
“I wasn’t jealous,” you huffed, leaning back so he could see your frown.
“What made you realize your undying love for me, then?”
“I just… I thought we’d be good together. I realized how compatible we are, if you will.”
“Our compatibility? Did you only notice it last night?”
You grinned. “Guess I did,” you answered, just to tease him. Jihoon did not need to know about your love calculator epiphany.
He looked at you like you had hung the stars in the sky. You felt shy under his gaze, but you couldn’t get yourself to look away. “So does that mean we’re… boyfriend and girlfriend now?” he asked, making you burst into laughter. “Don’t make fun of me! It’s important to make things clear,” he complained between giggles.
“Yes, let’s be boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“Awesome,” he replied, then pursed his lips as if debating to say what he wanted to say next. “So, now that we’re boyfriend and girlfriend…”
“Yes, Hoon?”
“Does that mean I can kiss you?” he asked, a small smile playing on his lips that you mirrored.
“Please,” you whispered.
So he did.
When his lips touched yours, it was like a flower that had been waiting for the right moment finally bloomed inside your chest. It felt soft, and comforting, and just right. Like your lips had always meant to meet. 
At least, it started out that way. The fabric of Jihoon’s t-shirt bunched up in your hands while his cupped your face tenderly, your lips moving in a slow cadence against each other’s as if you had all the time in the world - and you did. You were both so filled to the brim with excitement that when you pulled away for a breather, you laughed together, foreheads resting against each other.
But then, you raised your hands and threaded your fingers through his hair, tugging on it gently as you deepened the kiss. You probably hadn’t done it on purpose, simply wanting to feel more of Jihoon out of some basic instinct - but it undid something in him. 
He slid his hands down the sides of your neck and your shoulders until they reached your arms, pulling on them to have your body closer to his. His hands then continued their journey down to your waist, where they sneaked themselves under your t-shirt. They ran up and up until almost your entire back was exposed to the fresh air in his room, the contrast between that and the fire-hot warmth of Jihoon’s hands against your bare skin making you shiver.
He walked you backwards until the back of your legs hit his mattress, unto which he helped you down gently, somehow not breaking the kiss as he did. One of his hands came to brush hair away from your face, while the other remained on your waist, after some time venturing onto your stomach, a sensitive spot for you that made you sigh into his mouth. He took that opportunity to slide his tongue against yours, yet another new sensation that made your head spin.
This was exceeding any expectations you had ever had for a first kiss. In fact, you had always thought first kisses were messy, awkward things, but this was nothing of the sort - your whole body was on edge, responding to every little movement on Jihoon’s part. Your fingers buzzed with a fizzy electricity that put your brain in a daze. You could do this forever, you thought. 
But forever was cut short by the sudden buzz of Jihoon’s phone. Jihoon started, practically leaping off of you and dramatically holding onto his chest when he realized it was just his phone that had interrupted you. The delivery person was calling him to announce their arrival. 
Jihoon pressed a kiss to your forehead, took a few steps, then came back to press another kiss, this time to your lips. Your stomach growled loudly while you waited for him, and you realized you still hadn’t eaten today. Add making out to that, you were ready to devour whatever it was Jihoon had ordered. 
The smell coming from the paper bag Jihoon held as he entered the room again made you close your eyes in bliss and take a deep whiff. “Johnny’s,” you whispered. “You know me so well.”
Johnny’s was your absolute favorite breakfast place in all of town. It had been opened a few years ago by a graduate of your university who had mastered the art of hangover food. From soups, to hash brown patties, to iced coffee, he knew exactly what it was that students needed after a night out. You could tell he had a lot of experience with that himself. He was kind of like a God amongst the student body of your university.
“Of course I do. I know your order from all of your favorite restaurants, and somehow you only realized yesterday that I was pathetically in love with you.”
You smiled sheepishly, taking a bite of your sausage and egg wrap. “How long are you going to hold this over my head?”
Jihoon grinned brightly. “Until I forget about it.”
“So never?”
“Precisely.”
He put on the next episode of your show, and for the next couple hours, the two of you stayed holed up in his room, cuddling once you were done with your food. Even though you had spent endless time watching shows or movies side by side, neither of you had ever dared initiate physical touch, no matter how much you’d wanted to. He’d been scared you’d pull away from him, and you’d been scared it’d be awkward. You hadn’t realized how much you’d longed for his proximity and warmth until you had it.
Save for his laptop screen, it’d been quiet for a while, and you thought you might fall asleep when Jihoon spoke. “I’m so glad I don’t need to pretend anymore,” he said as one episode finished and the next one started.
“Pretend what?”
“That I’m not desperately in love with you and that every single little thing you do doesn’t drive me insane.”
You giggled. “Does it?”
“Yes,” he whispered, his voice a heavy sigh, almost a groan. There was a slight edge to it, a deeper meaning behind that short yes that had your stomach suddenly feeling very tight.
“Oh,” was all you could answer. You suddenly wondered what you might have done without thinking that had had an effect on Jihoon, just as he’d done to you many times before. You also wondered what sort of effect you may have had on him, what sort of thoughts he may have had about you that he had to keep to himself all this time.
Tentatively, you cocked your head up, only to find he was already looking down at you. The glint in his eyes made your body burn. Just as he started to lean in to reunite your lips, your phone buzzed with many texts in a row. Jihoon closed his eyes in frustration and sighed. “I want to throw both of our phones away,” he said, making you laugh.
minjeong hey pooks idk if ur out somewhere or still sleeping but im going to yoshis placeee he needs some stuff there so we’re going together and i’ll prob spend the night over… we’re like inseparable rn or wtv. anyways dont set the place on fire while i’m gone x
you ok thx for letting me know xx im w my boyfriend rn
Minjeong’s response didn’t even take three seconds to come through.
minjeong HUHHHH??? GIRL ???
you hehe
minjeong park jihoon is one lucky man
you how do u know its him?
minjeong literally who else would it be wait does that mean we’ll go on double dates…
you yeah ur right and pls no
minjeong DOUBLE DATES !! girls night tomorrow night i want all the deeeets have fun having the place all to urselves and rmb to use protection xx
you why is that where ur mind goes first ?? down for girls night tho can we watch teen beach movie
minjeong duhhh
“Teen Beach Movie?” Jihoon said, startling you. You hadn’t realized he’d been reading over your shoulders.
“It’s a good movie,” you mumbled, frowning.
“Right.” He said nothing for a few seconds, but he just couldn’t contain himself. The question was burning his tongue. “Aren’t you on the pill?”
Your head snapped towards him at the sudden question. “Uh, yeah, I am. Why?”
His eyes scanned your face as a smirk grew on his lips. “Then we don’t need to use protection, do we?”
You gulped. Your whole face felt hot - after having just shared your first kiss, you hadn’t expected him to mention sex so easily. Not that you weren’t interested in that, far from it, you were just… nervous.
You turned away from him, unable to sustain his gaze any longer. “I guess not,” you murmured. You had started taking the pill at the beginning of university, mainly to regulate your period and lessen your hormonal acne. The contraceptive part was just a bonus, one you had never imagined would come into handy like this. 
Jihoon’s eyes suddenly widened. “Oh, I need to tell Yoshi about this! He’s gonna freak. I hope he won’t be mad he learned it from Minjeong and not me first.”
“Yoshi?” you asked as you watched him reach for his phone on his nightstand.
“Yeah, we’ve been updating each other on our love lives. He’s really into Minjeong, by the way.”
“That’s… strangely wholesome, actually.” 
While he typed away, you tilted your head and took the time to appreciate your boyfriend’s features. The round eyes, heart-shaped lips, sharp nose and even sharper jawline. He was so pretty, and now, he was all yours.
Without thinking, you traced a finger along his jaw, liking the feel of it against your skin. When his eyes found yours, you dropped your hand and straightened your head, expression like you’d just been caught red-handed.
“Should we go back to your place? We can pick up food on the way.”
You smiled. “We just ate.”
“And I’m hungry again,” he said, mirroring your smile and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. Or at least, he had intended it as a chaste kiss, but he found that he couldn’t quite get himself to pull away. “Let’s go,” he said, lips moving against yours as he spoke, but made no move to actually go.
“Let’s go,” you repeated, staying perfectly still. You’re not sure who was the one to cross the millimeters between your lips, but before you knew it, you and Jihoon’s lips were stuck to each other once more. This kiss had none of the gradual intensity of the previous one - right off the bat, the feeling of Jihoon’s lips against yours flooded all of your senses.
Your hands found purchase in his hair while his found their way to your waist once more. With surprising ease, he pulled you to him so that you were straddling his lap. For a second there, you were conscious about how heavy you might be on top of him, but it was all forgotten when he pressed his lips to yours again in a passionate kiss. In this new position, you could press your body close to his, so close you could almost feel his heart beat against yours. He also had easier access to your back than before, and he quickly took advantage of that. 
Just like before, he sneaked his hands underneath your t-shirt, making you arch your back against him. He slid a finger underneath your bra strap and pulled away for a second to ask if this was okay. You looked at him - his eyes were darker than you’d ever seen before and his face had lust written all over it. You were sure you looked similar.
“Yeah, it’s okay,” you whispered before diving back into the kiss. One second apart felt like hours to you.
Your breath got shakier as he unclasped your bra. He didn’t do anything right away, settling on brushing his palm up and down your back while your heart raced with anticipation. You were so on edge that you couldn’t even kiss him anymore - you buried your face in his neck, gripping his hair so tightly you were probably hurting him. You didn’t care if he could feel how desperate you were. Then, finally, painfully slowly, one of his hands made its way to your front, and he gently grabbed your breast underneath your bra that was hanging from your shoulders. That was already a foreign sensation in itself, but when he took your nipple between two fingers and pulled on it ever-so-gently, the pleasure that overtook your body was so intense that it made you let out a loud gasp and you pulled away from Jihoon, startled as if you had been shocked by lightning. 
“Are you okay?” he asked, breathing heavily, a mix of worry and desire in his eyes. 
You nodded, holding onto his shoulders as you tried to make your breathing return to normal. “I’m fine, just… it’s all very new, is all. I’ve never done any of this before.”
Never had a boyfriend, never held hands romantically, never kissed - that was you. Not that you minded, though, since you’d never been interested in anyone and you were happy to do this with Jihoon, whom you trusted more than anyone else.
He smiled softly. “That’s okay. Does it at least feel good?” he asked, low voice making the hairs on your arms stand.
You whined, hiding your face in the dip of his shoulder again. “It does…” you admitted, voice muffled against his skin.
“You know, it’s my first time too,” he said after a while. 
You lifted your head to look at him. “Really?”
“Mh-hm. You’re my first girlfriend.” His eyes were full of affection as he gazed at you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You giggled. “What’s funny?” he asked softly, pressing a kiss to your jaw.
“We’re each other’s firsts,” you explained. “I think that’s nice.”
Jihoon made his way to your lips, giving them a small peck. “That is nice. And I promise I’ll make you feel so good,” another peck, “you’ll want me to be your last as well.”
You looked at him for a bit, taking in his features that looked even more beautiful to you now that you’d realized your feelings for him, and thought of a life with him. It might have been slightly premature, but you already knew you liked the idea of that.
“Okay,” you said, as if what he had said had been an offer. It made him smile.
“Okay.” He kissed you, softly like you could break underneath his touch. “You’re so cute, you know that?” he asked against your lips, but didn’t leave you time to answer before kissing you again. “Okay, I think we should take a break,” he said after a few minutes. “We can go to your place. And then we’ll have more… privacy.”
You agreed that spending some time not pressed up against Jihoon might help you think straight again. The walk to your apartment was nice and quiet, your interlocked hands swinging back and forth between your two bodies. When you walked past the grocery store, you stopped in your tracks, looking at Jihoon with a smile which he mirrored immediately, even without knowing the reason behind it.
“Should we bake a cake to celebrate our first day together?”
“That’s very cheesy.” His grin widened as he took a step closer to you. “I love it.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and led you into the store.
The rest of that afternoon was spent baking and decorating the cake. It was a simple vanilla batter, but it took way longer than it should have, because Jihoon first insisted on having a flour fight (which took ages to clean), then on having two cakes and having a competition for whose would be prettier (yours, of course), but you loved every last second of it. It was like a scene out of a movie, and you could not have been more content. To really bring home the cheesiness of it all, you even recorded yourselves blowing out the number one candles of your respective cakes.
The evening came around, and, full of cake and Chinese takeout, you were holed up in bed together, watching the first movie that had popped up on your Netflix recommended. It was too easy, falling asleep in his arms. The combination of his comforting scent and the soft back rubs he was giving you lulled you to sleep like nothing else. 
When you woke up next, it was because of a sudden lack of warmth next to you. You lifted your head to find Jihoon opening your bedroom door and heading into the living room. He had just been going to get water, but you didn’t know that.
“Hoon?” you called out, raising yourself to a sitting position on your bed. He immediately turned around, walking back towards you and crouching next to your bed.
“Hm?”
“Aren’t you staying?” you asked, reaching for the hem of his t-shirt sleeve. He looked at your hand before his gaze slowly made its way back up towards your face, a smirk growing on his pretty lips. 
“Do you want me to?” he asked back, gazing deep into your eyes. His voice had dropped to a low volume that made it hard to breathe. Initially, you’d just wanted him back by your side, but now all sorts of thoughts were running through your mind.
“Of course. I mean, we’re dating, right?” 
In an attempt to lighten the atmosphere, you tried to chuckle, but all laughter died in your throat when your eyes locked with Jihoon’s. You weren’t scared of his intensity - you were scared of the pace at which your desire for him was growing. One inch closer, and you knew you’d be wrapped around his finger.
He leaned closer.
“What are you trying to say?” he asked, tilting his head innocently to the side. Mindlessly, you rubbed your thighs together, searching for some relief for your core that had started to throb of its own accord, but Jihoon was following your every movement and had noticed it. “Are you saying you want to consummate our relationship?” he asked again, a hint of amusement in his voice as he placed his hands on your knee that wasn’t covered by the blanket.
You scoffed and looked away, hoping you didn’t look as flustered as you felt. “Not if you say it like that,” you mumbled.
Jihoon’s eyebrows perked up. “How should I say it, then?” he whispered. His hand slowly brushed along your sides until it reached your waist. Even over your layer of clothing, his touch burned. “You want me to make love to you?”
You kept your gaze fixed on something behind his shoulder, focusing on your breathing that was getting shakier and shakier. He drew the blanket away, leaving your thighs exposed to the chilly air for a second before he splayed his large palms on them, bringing you some warmth but intensifying the throbbing in your core. His hands inched closer and closer to where you most needed them, rubbing over your inner thighs but swerving right before he actually reached your core, setting them on your hip bones instead.
“Or do you want me to fuck you, Y/N?”
He took your chin between two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. Your eyes locked for a second before they dropped to his lips, watching the smirk that grew on them. “Guess it’s the latter.” 
As soon as your lips touched, you were overwhelmed by the immensity of your desire for him. Your whole body burned in want, in need. You had no idea what to do except hold on tightly to him and hope for the best, hope that he’d know how to guide you through this even if it was new for him as well. 
If you thought the kisses you’d shared earlier in the day had been intense, this one was on a whole other level. Your hands grabbed everywhere they could find and his gripped your waist firmly as your tongues danced with each other, resulting in a messy kiss that had your head spinning from lack of air in seconds. And yet, you couldn’t get enough. You kept pulling Jihoon impossibly closer by the hem of his t-shirt until he got frustrated from the layer of clothing between you two and simply took it off, discarding somewhere in your room. He gave you no time to admire his defined chest or abs, because he trapped your lips right away. 
He pushed you slowly onto the bed until he was hovering over you, alternating between kissing your lips and your neck, that you were sure would have a couple of purple marks for you to find the next day. Your skin burned wherever he touched it, and it was like a trail of fire had appeared as his hand made its way to your breasts once more, grabbing harshly at the soft flesh there. 
The whole time, he had been in some sort of a trance, drunk on your body, on your scent, on the way you were touching him - on the feeling that you finally wanted him as much as he’d wanted you all this time. But when he helped you out of the articles of clothing covering your upper body, and he had you half-naked underneath him, he had to take a double take and remember to take his time instead of just devouring you whole. For both his sake and yours.  
So he stopped for a bit, letting himself admire you. He noticed you shifting uncomfortably, so he leaned down again, pressing soft kisses along your cheeks and your jaw. “You really are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he whispered before kissing you. He then continued his journey down your neck and collarbones until he reached your breast. “Really so beautiful.”
When he took one of your nipples in his mouth, your back arched against him and you let out a loud moan. He couldn’t keep himself from chuckling slightly - he found it adorable how sensitive you were everywhere he touched you. Your moans were like music to his ears.
Nothing had ever felt like this before. As he circled his tongue around your nipple - God knows where he had learned how to do this - it took everything you had to not just scream in pleasure. Even if Minjeong was out, you still had neighbors. Now that you couldn’t grab his t-shirt, you’d switched to his hair, and you were tugging at it so hard you wouldn’t have been surprised if you ripped a clump of it from his head.
Your panties were sticking to your core, all slick with your arousal, and you didn’t know how long you could go on anymore without attention down there.
As if he’d heard your thoughts, Jihoon started making his way down your body once more, trailing kisses all across your ribcage and stomach.
“I’m torn between taking this real slow and making it last as long as possible.” His lips found a sensitive spot on your lower stomach, right next to your hip bone, and he gently bit the skin there, licking it afterwards to offer you some relief. “Or just devouring you now that I finally have you.”
“Jihoon,” you sighed, desperation evident in your voice. “Please, just do something.”
“Like what?” he asked, clearly enjoying your lust-filled state of mind.
“Anything.”
He chuckled, and by the sound of it, you knew he didn’t have anything good in mind. He lowered himself some more until his mouth was positioned right in front of your pussy, and, with no warning, licked a long strip from your hole to your clit over your panties, humming at the taste of your arousal.
“Something like this?” he asked afterwards, but was only met with a whine. He kissed the soft flesh of your inner thighs while you squirmed in his hold.
“Don’t tease me, please…” you begged, and your voice was so weak and genuine that he could only give in. 
“Whatever you want, baby,” he obliged, the nickname rolling off of his tongue casually. He had no idea what it did to you. 
He helped you out of your underwear, finally getting you fully naked just for him. Jihoon was a man of his words, so not a second was lost before he dived right back into you, licking up the arousal spilling out of you before flicking his tongue at your clit. He held your hips tightly in both of his hands so you couldn’t squirm away from him and ate you out like a man starved. You were so sweet and warm against his tongue, and your taste was worlds more intoxicating than any alcohol he’d ever had. He’d do this forever if you let him.
He noticed quickly that attention to your clit was what got you moaning the loudest, so he alternated between circling his tongue around it and gently sucking at it, sometimes releasing it with a pop just for the hell of it. He slipped a finger easily inside of you, your wetness accommodating him immediately. He couldn’t wait to be inside you - his hard cock was throbbing in the confines of his underwear, but his only concern right now was to make you come undone for him. 
When he found that deep spot inside of you, the one that had you gasping in pleasure and moaning his name, he slid a second finger in, and just like that, you were done for. You came apart on his fingers and tongue, a complete moaning mess underneath him, and he lapped up the arousal leaking out of you like it was water. 
You’d already thought you were at the peak of pleasure when your orgasm came ripping through you like an avalanche, blindsiding you and making you see bright white stars behind your tightly closed eyelids. Your throat felt dry from all the moaning and heaving you’d been doing. You had to take Jihoon’s face between your hands and gently pull him up yourself, otherwise it seemed like he was happy to keep going, but it was starting to overwhelm you.
Jihoon held you in his arms as you came down from your high. You let out the laughter bubbling in your throat as your breathing returned to normal - not because something was funny, but because you had just felt so ridiculously amazing that you couldn’t help but laugh. 
“How was it?” Jihoon asked, a lot shyer than you’d expected.
You lifted your head to look at him, a bright smile on your face even though you felt close to exhausted. “I have a hard time believing that was your first time giving head, Hoon.”
He chuckled. “Very first time, I promise you. I must just have some God-given skills.”
“I’m not even gonna fight you on that, because that was amazing,” you conceded, nuzzling yourself closer to him.
“I’m glad I could do that for you,” he said softly, burying his nose at the top of your head and inhaling there. The scent of your hair was oddly comforting for him.
Before you let yourself drift off to sleep, you started raking your fingernails across his chest and abs, smiling proudly to yourself when you heard him breathe shakily or felt his muscles clench under your touch. He wasn’t saying anything, but you could tell he was holding himself back. “I think,” you started, pressing a kiss to the corner of his jaw, “That you deserve something in return.”
“You don’t-”
You knew Jihoon. He didn’t like it when you insisted on paying for coffee because he’d done it the last time, or when you baked him something because he’d stayed up all night with you studying for a test. He liked taking care of you, but you always had to almost force him to let you take care of him. You wanted your relationship to be fifty-fifty - you wanted to give him as much as he gave you. Even if he would let you, it wasn’t fair to just take and take.
So you insisted. Whatever he was about to say, it died on his tongue as soon as you placed your palm on his erection. It felt hot and hard under your hand, and saying you weren’t slightly intimidated would be a lie, but you wanted to do this. If you were able to give Jihoon half the pleasure he’d given you moments prior, you’d be satisfied. 
You rubbed your hand slowly up and down over his clothes. “Really, baby,” he managed to say between shaky breaths, “I didn’t do that to get something in return- Fuck,” he whispered as you hooked your fingers underneath the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling it down his legs so he was only left in his underwear. Under the black fabric, his bulge looked huge, and you gulped at the idea of having it inside you.
“This feels good, right, Hoon?” you asked, steadily getting bolder and pressing slightly harder against his bulge as you continued rubbing it.
“It- it does, but-”
You shut him up by pressing your lips to his. He reciprocated it immediately, almost unconsciously, before moaning into the kiss. “So let me do this for you,” you whispered before ridding him of his underwear.
“Okay,” he said, sighing as you rubbed your hands from his knees along his thighs.
The groan he let out as you took him in your hand sent shivers straight down your spine. You could finally put to use all the knowledge Minjeong had passed on to you over the past few months. You let go of Jihoon’s cock to spit in your hand, the moisture helping you glide your loosely closed fist along his shaft with more ease. Your movements themselves were probably very clumsy, but Jihoon didn’t seem to mind - he moaned shamelessly, head fallen back against the pillows and exposed Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.
Seeing him like this and knowing it was all because of you drove you crazy, and soon, you became greedy for any sign of pleasure from him. You wanted to hear all of his moans, sighs, groans, watch his abs clench tightly and feel him grab your hair, which he did as soon as you flicked your tongue across his tip, already leaking with pre-cum. The endless string of curses and moans that flew from his mouth as you circled your tongue and shallowly bobbed your mouth around him filled you with satisfaction.
“Fuck, just like that, Y/N. You’re doing so fucking well, baby. Making me feel so good.” Those words had been the cherry on top.
Jihoon was of a more-than-decent size, and fitting all of him inside of your mouth was probably a task that would take a few tries to achieve - you still did your best to take as much of him as you could. You massaged his balls with one of your hands, using the other to hold the base of his shaft while you bobbed your head up and down. You did this with increasing speed then let him take control over your pace as his fingers threaded themselves in your hair, guiding your head around him. You didn’t even know if he was doing it on purpose or out of reflex, but you definitely did not mind handing him the reins.
“You’re gonna make me- Fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna cum, sweetheart.” You hummed around his shaft, and that seemed to do him in - with a loud groan, he released his load, hot and sticky inside your mouth. Taken aback by the bitter taste, you lifted your head and only swallowed what you had caught. You took him in your hand again, jerking him off to help him ride out the rest of his high.
You watched him, transfixed by his heaving chest, eyes screwed shut, the beads of sweat pearling across his torso, and the red blush that had spread from his face down to his neck. You’d done this. You’d gotten Jihoon in such a state. You let him rest for a bit as you wiped your hands and his body with a tissue and had a sip of water.
You then pressed a kiss to his cheek, taking the time to admire his smiling face. When he opened his eyes and found yours, you suddenly felt so shy that you returned to your usual cuddling position, head resting against his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to him. You were both smelly and sticky, but you couldn’t care less.
“You did so good, baby. You did such a good job,” he whispered, the praise going right to your heart.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. That was amazing.” He sighed contentedly, then lowered his head to look at you. “You feeling sleepy?”
You shook your head no, a shy smile on your lips.
Jihoon smirked slightly. “You wanna keep going?”
You nodded.
He shifted himself so that his back rested against the headboard. “Come here,” he whispers, pulling you to his lap. You both winced in sensitivity at the feeling of your core right against his softening dick, but you didn’t want to pull apart either. If anything, the small stimulation created a pit in your lower stomach for the second time of the night.
You wrapped your arms lazily around his neck while he rested one of his hands on your hips and used the other one to rub your back. “How are you feeling?” he asked, eyes soft and full of affection.
You pressed a long, gentle kiss to his lips. “Good. Really good,” you said, making him chuckle.
“Good. Me too.”
You made out lazily, lips moving languidly against each other, neither of you in a rush to get anywhere. But after some time, you started to feel Jihoon hardening under you, and when you rocked your hips against him, coating his growing erection with arousal, he groaned. His hands traveled down to your ass, grabbing hard at the skin there as he helped you rock back and forth against him. You started out slowly at first, moaning every time your clit brushed against his tip, but it wasn’t long before you sped things up and lost yourself in pleasure once again. Your arms tightened their hold around his neck and, burying your face in his neck, you pressed your chest flush to his and muffled your moans against his skin, in both pleasure and frustration at having him right against you but not inside.
You suddenly lifted your head, and the look on your face made Jihoon instantly stop. “Is everything okay, baby?”
You nodded, but your worry was still evident in the crease of your brows. “Yeah, I just…” You pouted. “I’m scared it’ll hurt, Hoon.”
Jihoon caressed the side of your cheek with his palm, brushing some hair away from your face. “We don’t have to do this today-”
“No!” you exclaimed, taking the both of you aback. “I want to.”
“Okay.”
“I’m just a little bit nervous.”
“Okay. That’s okay, baby.” One of his hands rubbed reassuring circles into your lower back. “We can go as slow as you want, okay? And we can stop whenever you want. Just let me know. Does that sound good?”
You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, it does.”
Jihoon smiled and pressed his lips to yours. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah,” you whispered.
He helped you lay on your back against the mattress and hovered over you, propping himself up on one forearm. As he kissed you, he caressed one of your thighs, hand inching closer and closer to your core and making your blood rush with anticipation. Then he finally pressed two fingers to your folds, gathering up some of your arousal 
before sliding his digits inside of you. As you gasped out in pleasure, his lips trailed away from your lips and found a new home in your neck.
He scissored his fingers inside of you, stretching you out and getting you ready for him as he murmured words of “you’re doing so well” and “I’ll make you feel good,” as if he wasn’t already. When you seemed relaxed enough, he slid his fingers out of you, smiling at you mischievously while he sucked your arousal off of them. Then, taking his dick by the base, he rubbed his tip along your folds, making your body twitch and loud moans escape your mouth. He pressed a final kiss to your cheek and buried his face in your neck, trying to ground himself too as he slowly started pushing himself inside of you.
His dick was so much bigger than his fingers, and you gripped his hair tightly as you got used to the new sensation. Tears prickled in your eyes, the unexpected stretch making you frown in discomfort. It was a completely different pain to what you were used to, but the overwhelming pleasure mixed with it made it almost welcome. 
Jihoon was using all of his self-control to not pound you into tomorrow - your tight pussy was sucking him right in, and it was like his whole body sighed of relief when he bottomed out. He couldn’t believe he was inside you, feeling your walls clench around him and hearing your soft grunts as you got used to him. It was a scene right out of his wet dreams. 
“You okay?” he asked, voice muffled against your skin. His voice sounded strained and heavy. 
“I’m okay, Hoonie. I just need a minute.”
For that minute, as you breathed shallowly and relaxed around him, Jihoon pressed wet kisses wherever his lips could reach and twirled one of your nipples between two fingers to take your mind off of your pain. 
“Take your time. I know I’m big, baby,” he said. You could hear the smirk in his voice.
“No, you’re just right, Hoon. It feels nice now.” 
Objectively, Jihoon knew that this was a good thing, and that you had meant in a good way - better for him to fit right inside rather than cause you pain, but a part of his ego had still been hurt by your refutal of his claim. But then you told him he could move, and he forgot all about it.
It took him another superhuman kind of effort to go slow, slowly rolling his hips against yours with a self-control he didn’t know he had. He scanned your face for any signs of discomfort, kissing your small frown in the hope it might go away. He watched as your jaw relaxed and the soft hums escaping your throat turned into moans, as the crease in your eyebrows softened and turned into one of pleasure rather than pain. He allowed his movements to speed up, noting with satisfaction the increasing volume of the noises you were making and the way your fingernails dug into the skin of his shoulders.
He lifted himself on his palms and hooked one of your legs around his hips, the new, deeper angle having you seeing stars. He asked if you were okay again, and when you not only nodded yes, but asked him to go faster, Jihoon had to admit he got a little bit carried away, both in his actions and his words. 
Jihoon had a big mouth - you knew it, everyone knew it. What you didn’t know was that he would keep that big mouth even balls-deep inside you.
Maintaining a fast pace, he lowered himself so that his lips tickled your ear as he spoke. “You’re doing so well, baby. Taking my cock like the good girl you are. Isn’t that right? You’re my good girl,” he grunted, punctuating his words with harsh rolls of his hips into yours. You couldn’t even get yourself to answer, that’s how far gone you were, his words going into your one ear and coming out the other. All you could think about was how good it all felt, from his tip repeatedly hitting that delicious spot inside of you to the feeling of his warm, sticky skin against yours. The room smelled of sweat and arousal and was filled with all sorts of noises - your heavy breathing, your moans, your grunts, the wet sound of Jihoon’s dick inside of you.
“Can’t even say anything, can you? Am I making you feel that good, baby?”
You moaned, thinking that should be enough of a yes for him, but you should’ve known better. 
“I think you should answer me when I ask you a question, Y/N,” he commanded, slowing his pace down to get you to listen to him.
“Y-yes, it feels so good, Hoon,” you replied, out-of-breath.
“Attagirl,” he whispered, smiling as he bit the lobe of your ear. 
You hadn’t even realized you were crying until Jihoon halted in his motions, feeling one of your hot, wet tears on his palm. He was quick to wipe it away, searching for any pain in your features, but you only whined, asking him why he’d stopped. 
“Why are you crying, baby? Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” he asked frantically. The worry in his voice only amplified your already overflowing love for him.
“No, you didn’t do anything wrong, I just… God, this is so embarrassing,” you all but sobbed against his skin, realizing that the pleasure had been so overwhelming, tears had started flowing from your eyes. 
“No, it’s not.”
You screwed your eyes shut for a second before meeting his gaze again. “I just- it feels so good, Hoon.”
A pause passed as he took a deep breath. “Is that it?”
“It is, I promise. Please, just… let’s keep going, Hoonie. I was so close,” you whined, and Jihoon couldn’t help but chuckle at your desperation. How was it that he still found you so adorable even in such a situation?
“Okay, baby. I’m relieved.” He wiped more of your tears that had fallen, but as soon as he moved inside of you again, taking a minute to return to his previous harsh pace, your tears resumed streaking down your cheeks. Jihoon kissed them, savoring their salty taste on his tongue.
It didn’t take long for the knot in your stomach to become tight again, and with every deep thrust, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. 
“You look so pretty like this, sweetheart. All fucked out for me.”
“Mm. I’m so close, Hoon, gonna- fuck, gonna-”
“You’re gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum and make a mess all over my cock?”
“Yes, Hoon, fuck-”
You gasped out loud as his hand found your clit again, using his thumb to rub quick circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. “Cum for me, sweetheart, show me how good it feels.”
That did it for you. Your second orgasm of the night washed over you, making you release your loudest moan yet. You held on to Jihoon like you might fall apart if you didn’t. 
The quick clenching and unclenching of your walls around Jihoon’s dick as he fucked you throughout your high drove him crazy and, soon enough, he came undone himself, hot, white ropes of his cum filling you up. The squelch as he fucked his cum into you, the both of you moaning in overstimulation, was nothing short of pornographic. 
Jihoon all but collapsed on top of you, humming as you traced your fingernails up and down his back. You took a few minutes to collect yourselves, and you thought he might have fallen asleep, soft dick still inside you, when he lifted himself up with a sigh and slid out of you. You winced at the loss of his warmth. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and said he’d be back in a sec. 
When he entered your room again, he was carrying a towel, a tall glass of water, and leftovers from your takeout earlier. He cleaned you off and asked you how you felt, then you chatted as you ate your food. You could pass out at any moment, but it was nice, talking a little bit after the moment you shared instead of falling asleep straight away. 
He almost choked on his water when you asked him where he’d learned to talk so dirty - now that he was out of the moment, his cheeks reddened at the thought of everything he’d told you. “It just comes naturally,” he’d said shyly.
“Do you want anything?” he asked when you were done eating. 
You kissed him, smiling against his lips. “I’m all good, Hoon. You?”
He mirrored your smile. “All good, too.”
“I just wanna cuddle and sleep now. I’m spent.”
“Sounds perfect to me,” he whispered. He laid down on his back and you followed, letting him wrap an arm around your shoulder while you rested your head on his chest. He drew you close to him and pulled the blankets over your intertwined bodies. “Is it creepy if I just stare at you for a little bit?”
“Kinda, yeah.”
“But you’re so pretty,” Jihoon pouted.
“I’ll just sleep and pretend I don’t know anything about it.”
“Okay, just don’t panic if you feel a strange but very attractive presence looming over you.”
You snorted. “Noted. Night, Hoon.” You pressed a kiss to his neck and he hummed.
“Night, pretty. Sleep tight.”
--
When you woke up a few hours later, your room was bathing in the bright yellow glow of the early morning. You and Jihoon had shifted positions in the night and you’d ended up curled up on your side, back to him while he slept on his back, arms sprayed out next to him. It was the feeling of him shifting closer to you and wrapping an arm around your waist that had awoken you, a sudden warmth engulfing your body that made you feel like you might still be dreaming.
But no, it was all very real. From the man behind you, to the events of the previous night, to the dull but not unpleasant ache you felt between your legs. You sighed contentedly, taking his hand in yours and wrapping it tighter around yourself. 
Curious to see if he was awake, you turned around after a few minutes and faced him. He seemed pretty passed out until you pressed a soft kiss to his nose, then another to his cheek. His eyebrows creased for a second and his foot moved against yours. He didn’t open his eyes, but he pursed his lips for a kiss. He wasn’t content with just a peck, however, and you found yourself making out with him first thing in the morning, lips full of sleep and cotton-soft like your pillows. 
“You have no idea how much I’ve dreamed of this,” he says after a while, keeping his eyes closed, morning voice sending chills down your spine. “Waking up next to you.”
“You have?”
“I have. I don’t know if I should freak out over this and have a party or just be chill about it,” he said, smiling.
“We can have a party.”
“Really?” Jihoon asked, opening his eyes wide, excited like a kid who was just told they were going to Disneyland.
“Sure,” you giggled. “We can invite all of our friends and celebrate our one-week anniversary or something. Minjeong will probably want to plan it.”
He sighed happily. “I’m holding you to that. We’re celebrating.”
After lazing around in bed for a couple hours, going back and forth between chatting while cuddling and making out, your growling stomachs forced you out of your room and into the kitchen.
You and Jihoon noticed it at the same time. It was hard to miss, after all - a bright pink sheet of A4 paper with hearts and little Cupids everywhere right in the middle of the surface of your fridge, but more importantly, your name and Jihoon’s in big bubble letters with 99% in the middle. You wanted to rip it from the surface of your fridge, but the damage had been done - index pointed at the paper, Jihoon turned to you with an incredulous look on his face. You scratched the back of your neck and looked around the kitchen for a way to escape.
“Y/N, what’s this?” Jihoon asked, amusement laced in his voice.
You tried to find some sort of excuse, but to no avail. “This is just, um- you know, just a, uh, just-” The sound of Jihoon’s cackles interrupted you. You looked at him, unimpressed. “Don’t laugh at me. I was stressing out, okay? I needed something to reassure me.”
Jihoon was grinning wide as he pulled you into a hug, one arm around your waist and one hand on the back of your head. “You’re so adorable,” he mused, pressing a kiss to your hair. You wrapped your arms around his middle and nuzzled your nose against his neck, the comforting scent of his skin making you forget about your embarrassment. 
He leaned away slightly and took the paper off of the fridge, smiling down at it. “As cute as this is, you don’t need it. I’ll show you everyday that I’m the perfect man for you, okay?”
You mirrored his smile. “Okay.” Even when your lips found each other, you couldn’t stop smiling, giggles escaping from your lips into his. You only laughed harder when he started pressing small kisses all over your face, making sure to not miss a single spot. He pressed a final one to your forehead before resting his against it, both of you closing your eyes and relishing in each other’s presence. 
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
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probably-writing-x · 8 months
Text
Healed and Hurt.
Conrad Fisher x Reader
Summary: Conrad had broken your heart, and broken all of you along with it. You’d finally put the pieces back together… but there was just something your heart could never ignore.
Author’s Note: Can people please make more TSITP gifs so I can get more inspo for writing these pretty pretty please??? Y’all seemed to love the other tsitp one shot so I hope you love this just as much xoxo
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You weren’t sure of the moment you’d lost him. But you knew the exact moment when you realised that you had. He’d come back from surfing, and it had started raining outside in Cousins - a rare summer shower even on the hottest day. Conrad had showered and came downstairs to where you were curled up on the couch, eyes closed. The Conrad that you knew would have grabbed the nearest blanket and settled it over your shoulders, and taken up the spot closest to you so that, when you awoke, you could snuggle into him and he’d share in your comfort. But this Conrad had taken a seat on the opposite couch, his eyes focused on a distant spot somewhere in the lounge. You’d woken up when it got oddly cold and realised that he’d left the garden doors open, letting in sprays of rain and the coldest wind.
“Con?” You’d spoken, voice full of sleep, “Everything okay?”
He looked at you with an off, empty look in his eyes - like he was looking at a stranger. You knew then, and you still couldn’t figure out why.
That wasn’t your Conrad. That wasn’t the Conrad that loved you.
———
That exact moment had been four months ago, only a week before things ended between the two of you. You’d cried more than your heart could cope with, and you’d had enough sleepless nights to make it feel like you wouldn’t sleep again. You’d stopped eating and stopped enjoying the smallest things in your life. Until, one day, you just felt… better. There was no specific cause or cure, just that you were yourself once again. The self that you’d been before Conrad. Healed.
Your parents had owned a house in Cousins for the past couple of years and that’s how you’d first met the Fisher family. This weekend would be the first time you were returning to Cousins since you and Conrad had finished, and it was agitating a pain in your chest that you tried your best to ignore.
“(Y/n)?” It’s your Mom’s voice that snaps you back to reality, “Do you mind taking a trip to the store?”
You look at her and blink a second time, feeling your mind return to the setting of the beach house, “Yeah, yeah, of course I will.”
“Thanks honey,” She smiles, “There’s a list on the kitchen island.”
You nod and she steps back out of your bedroom, letting you return to welcome solitude.
There was something about being back here - this house, this town - everything reminded you of him.
———
The shop is relatively empty when you get there and you make your way around the aisles picking up the items from your Moms list. It was thanksgiving next week so these were just the bits to keep you fed between now and then. She definitely wouldn’t trust you with the real thanksgiving shop.
As you round onto the next aisle, your cart bumps into someone coming the other way.
“Oh shit my-“ A familiar voice speaks quickly and you glance up to see Stephen at the end of your cart.
“Stephen!” You grin, “Hi!”
He grins just as widely and stretches out his arms, “Holy shit (y/n) it’s good to see you.”
His arms wrap you in a bear hug and he breathes deeply as your chin perches atop his shoulder, stood on your tiptoes to do so.
“What are you doing here in Cousins?” You ask him, “I thought you guys were only here for summer.”
“Yeah well my Mom and Suzanne decided to start doing thanksgiving too because they think we should see each other more often,” He shrugs his shoulders, “I’m not complaining, it’s more fun here than back home.”
“Yeah, yeah, definitely,” You nod, “I didn’t even think to ask you guys if you’d be here. I mean, normally I’d ask Co-“
Both of you stop and he looks at you with that frown between his eyebrows as if watching the discomfort settle between you.
You clear your throat, “How are the boys?”
Stephen smiles that sort of sympathetic smile, “They’re good. I’m sure they’d love to see you, and my sister would too - she’s going to hate that she didn’t come to the store with me.”
You laugh and drag a hand through your hair, the mention of Conrad and the Fishers bringing back that same glimpse of empty pain you’d had for weeks after things had ended. You avert your eyes from him towards the large windows in the store and notice that the heavens have opened, rain pouring onto the concrete.
“Shit, I knew I should’ve brought the car,” Stephen winces, “I better call Jere-“
“No, no, don’t be silly,” You shake your head, “I’ll drive you home, it’s the same way anyway.”
“(y/n) I always knew you were an angel,” Stephen jokes with a bright smile.
He helps you put your things through the checkout and then the two of you clamber into your car, dumping your bags into the back.
You drive the short distance in the direction of both houses, the Fisher’s house only being a street away from your own. The roads are all familiar, a second home within itself. But the sight of their exact house, as you pull into the driveway, settles an uneasy feeling on your chest. You ignore it.
“Thanks (Y/n),” Stephen smiles, “And, hey, don’t be a stranger. We’d all still love to see you, I’m sure they’ll all say the same when I tell them you were here.”
You smile and go to respond when your car door is pulled open.
“(Y/n) (y/l/n)!” It’s Jeremiah, his arm holding your door as he stands in the opening, grinning wildly as his hair gets rapidly soaked by the rain, “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Driving Stephen back to avoid the rain,” You laugh gently, “Which you should be doing too.”
“Please come in, Belly’s going to kill me if you were here and she didn’t get to say hi,” He has those sort of eyes that it’s impossible to say no to, the same golden retriever look that ran through his personality.
You turn your keys in the ignition and pull them out, “Alright, just five minutes.”
Jeremiah reaches out a hand to you and stretched one side of his hoodie out so you can both duck under the material, the three of you hurrying towards the house.
It’s all so beautifully familiar. Stephen grumbling about the rain in his hair and Jeremiah laughing the same way he always did, the warmth of the walls in this house, the sense of home.
The door shuts behind you and you feel it again - that little bit of relief that you really had moved on. This place held good memories - for the year that you’d been dating Conrad he’d been everything and his family came with that. Losing him didn’t mean you lost the sense of family that his own people had always given you.
“Okay, now we can say a proper hello,” Jeremiah laughs, wrapping his arms around you as he lifts you up from the ground, spinning you around before settling you back down.
“It’s good to see you too, Jere,” You return, “I’m sorry, I had no idea you guys were back in Cousins.”
“Yeah, well, it was a last minute decision,” He nods, “Come on, I think Belly’s in the kit-“
Stephen grabs Jeremiah’s arm before he can go any further, “Um, Jere, is Conrad here?”
“Oh shit yeah I didn’t eve-“
“Guys, seriously,” You shake your head at them, “Come on, what happened with me and Con was a long time ago. We’re all grown ups here.”
They look at you with a slight uncertainty but nod anyway, walking through the back of the house.
Your steps pause ever so slightly when you catch sight of him but you don’t let it show, letting your eyes look around the rest of the room before falling back to him.
Conrad stands up almost instantly, his entire being alert.
“(Y/n).”
Your name from his lips turns a knot into your stomach but it dissipates when you focus on it for long enough.
“Hey Con,” You smile, running a hand through your hair.
“What are yo-“
“Oh my god (Y/n)!” Belly squeals and hurries over, engulfing you in a velocity fuelled hug, “What are you doing here?”
You laugh and squeeze her before stepping back, “Just dropping Stephen home.”
“Yeah, it was raining like hell when I was in the store so (Y/n) offered to drive back,” Stephen comments.
“You, uh, you hate driving in the rain,” Conrad clears his throat, eyes on you as if nobody else was there.
You let out a breathy laugh and let your eyes lock onto him, your fingers tightening around the car keys in your hand, “Yeah, a few months ago I did. I guess I just got better.”
He swallows the lump in his throat, his lips parting.
“I should probably get going,” You clear your throat, “My Mom will kill me if I let that ice cream melt.”
“We’ll catch up soon, okay?” Belly squeezes your arm, “I’m so glad you’re here.”
You wave goodbye and step back out, feeling the weight on your chest release just enough that it no longer feels like it’s there. You step back out of the house and, for the first time in a long time, Conrad races through your mind. You turn the music up just a little louder in your car so it’ll somewhat drown out the thought.
———
The following night, there’s a party down at the beach that it’s impossible to say no to when Jeremiah, Belly and Stephen have all been convincing you all day. You change into a pink ditsy floral dress that has a corset style top and a simple pair of white converse - they’d only end up full of sand anyway. It was cold enough that you knew it was a terrible idea to just wear a dress, so you throw over a baggy grey jumper and roll up the sleeves twice so they don’t hang over your hands.
Once they’ve texted to say they’re already there, you leave and take the short walk down to the beach, bag tucked over your shoulder.
“Hey! (Y/n)!” Cameron waves you over to where he’s filling up a red cup with a can of Sprite.
“Hey Cam,” You smile, “How are you doing?”
He nods, “I’m thinking this party is a terrible idea in the middle of November.”
You laugh, “I’m hoping a beer will warm me up a bit,” You take a cup and fill it from the keg beside him.
“How are you doing anyway?” Cam nudges you, “Is it weird being back?”
You take a second of looking at him before you respond, invisibly composing yourself, “No, it’s okay. What happened with me and Conrad was… and obviously I wouldn’t want to… I’m fine. We’re fine.”
He nods, taking it as certain sign that he shouldn’t persist with the topic, “I think Belly and the guys are over that way.”
You follow him over to where Belly, Jere and Stephen are all sat around a big campfire, warming their hands on the floating heat.
“Hey, are you not freezing in that dress?” Stephen looks at you slightly bewildered.
“Yeah, I’m used to never packing clothes to come here because I always have summer clothes in my closet in the house but… that doesn’t exactly work in november,” You wince, running your hands over the skin of your thighs.
“Yeah who thought it was a good idea to have a beach party in the middle of november?” Belly shakes her head, “It’s meant to get freezing tonight.”
Jere shrugs, “Where’s the fun in that attitude Bels?”
The chatter continues but you find your eyes drifting around the beach for a pair of eyes that you’re yet to find. Somewhere in the lost time, you get through a few more beers and the sun continues to set over the Cousins beach until the cold really starts to set in. The beer is warming your system just a little but far from enough.
A shiver runs over you and draws goose pimples to your skin, so you take it as your cue to leave, saying your goodbyes before heading up the beach towards the path that let you back to the houses.
You’re not sure why. But your feet take you in the direction of the street adjacent to your own, one you’d driven up and walked up countless times. One you missed.
In the one house that catches your attention, there’s a light on out the back and you find yourself pushing through the back garden gate into the yard.
“Jere?” It’s Conrad’s voice that speaks out and you turn to find him sat at the edge of the pool, his feet dragging below the surface.
“Um, no, it’s me,” You clear your throat, “Sorry, I’m not really sure why I came this way.”
He keeps his eyes on you, pushing himself up to stand at the poolside, “Do you-“
“Sorry, I should probably go home I-“
“I bet you’re freezing,” He interrupts, gesturing towards the doors into the house, “Do you want to come inside? I can make you a hot drink or something.”
“Um,” You look at the slightly pleasing look in his eyes and realise it’s impossible to say anything other than, “Sure.”
Conrad nods and pulls open the garden door, stepping aside to let you in.
“I think my Mom and Laurel are out at a bar tonight, it’s just me here,” Conrad comments as you follow him through to the kitchen.
You two spent every minute together when you’d been dating - thankful to be living in the same city without the hours long drive between you that you had at home. This kitchen was where he’d first kissed you. You’d been sitting atop the kitchen counter and he’d been making pancakes at the stove. You laughed when he failed at flipping one of them and he’d come over to make you try the first one - telling you it was good luck to try the first pancake of the night. He’d wiped a bit of syrup from the side of your mouth and the next thing you knew he was kissing you. His lips were uncertain at first but they soon-
“(Y/n)?” Conrad’s voice slices through.
You don’t remember ever hopping up onto the countertop but you’re in the exact spot you’d been in on that pancake morning.
“Do you want cocoa or tea?”
“Tea, please,” You swallow the lump in your throat, dropping your bag down to the counter beside you.
He nods and sets the kettle onto the stove, cracking up the heat before turning around to lean back against the counter opposite you, the water waiting to whistle to a boil behind him.
“What are you thinking about?” He asks you, crossing his arms over his chest.
You look at him and study his face for a moment, a face you’d memorised over and over again, and then shake your head, “That I’m fucking freezing.”
He laughs gently, the kind that rumbles the air, “That’ll teach you to not wear a dress in winter.”
“I didn’t have anything else,” You raise your hands in defence, “And this outfit looks cute.”
“It’s the most impractical outfit ever I mean seriously you must be cold as-“
Without you realising, Conrad has stepped forward from the counter and his hand has come to rest on your thigh - enough for you to feel the electricity charging through you.
“Sorry I-“
Before he can retract, you fly a hand down to press over the top of his, relaxing a little at the contact, “It’s okay. Your hands are warm.”
Conrad looks up at you through the hair that falls around his eyes and you bring your other hand up to brush the strands away from his face. He winces at the cold of your fingers when they brush his face and brings his own hand up to wrap around yours on his cheek to warm your skin there.
Both of you are silent, trapped in the most contact you’ve had in months. You hold each other there for just a moment before the kettle whistles behind him and it seems to snap you back to where you need to be.
“Thank god, I’m dying for a tea,” You pull both of your hands away from him and hop down from the counter, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard.
Conrad stays stood where he was, his hands resting on the countertop in front of him as he squeezes his grip against the edge of it.
You go about making two teas and hand one of the mugs over to him, wrapping your own two palms around the heat of the other.
Conrad winces as the liquid touches his lips, blowing gently on the rippling surface of the drink. You’d always loved his lips. The way they spoke, the way they laughed, the way they kissed. The indent of his cupid’s bow and the shadow of stubble that surrounded them when he didn’t shave. You’d always loved him.
“How come you didn’t come to the beach tonight?” You ask him, your hands burning a little under the heat of the mug.
“In this weather? It’s stupid.”
You shake your head, “You prefer the cold anyway.”
He stops for a moment and sets the mug down, “I figured you wouldn’t want me to be there, and I didn’t want to ruin your night.”
You purse your lips together and look away from him, down at an invisible mark on the floor, “You wouldn’t ruin it.”
Conrad doesn’t speak.
“Come on, just because we split up doesn’t mean we have to act like we don’t know each other,” You comment, “We’re always going to run in the same circles.”
He looks up at you again, studying you, “But we didn’t just split up. I broke your heart (y/n).”
You find yourself smiling just a little, “Anyone would think you’re full of yourself Con.”
“Oh, no, I didn’t mean-“
“I know,” You interject, taking a deep breath, “You did break my heart. But time heals, surprisingly. I’m good now, I’m happy.”
You watch his face falter for just a moment. Conrad was right - he had broken your heart. You’d been hurt by him. But things had changed. You couldn’t hate him forever, and you couldn’t hate your life without him forever. But, the truth was, he didn’t feel even close to being over you. And it killed him to think you’d already slipped away. Far enough away that he couldn’t pull you back.
“I’m glad you’re happy” He swigs the drink, “That’s all I ever wanted.”
You’re not sure what makes you say it. But you do without thinking.
“Really?” You raise your brows, “It didn’t feel like that last summer.”
“(Y/n)…”
“I fought for you Conrad. I really did,” You feel your voice tremble a little but regain it, “I remember even after I knew that you were done with me, I was trying so fucking hard to fix it.”
He’s silent, eyes watching you.
“Two nights before you ended it, I remember I stayed up after you thought I’d gone to sleep and I felt you pull away from me. You pulled your arm from underneath me, you took your arm away from around me, you pushed yourself back to the other side of the bed. And I knew you’d wake up and blame it on being cold in the night. But I felt you. I felt you go. And that’s when I gave up. When I knew there was no saving what you didn’t want to fix,” You shake your head, shaking out your hands to fight the way your body seems to tremble against your will.
“I never wanted to lose you (Y/n), I just… I got scared and I-“
“I don’t need you to explain things Conrad. I spent days and nights trying to figure out where the hell I went wrong. And I made my peace with it - if you weren’t going to love me that was fine, it didn’t mean I wasn’t capable of being loved.”
“I did love you, I do love you,” His words are almost pleading and he steps closer to you, still two feet standing between your bodies, “That never changed.”
You look down and smile a little at the thought, words that would have been wrenching at your heart a few months ago. Today, they settle into you and fall into your system like they weren’t ever said to have an impact.
“I shouldn’t have come here tonight Con,” You look up and take a deep breath, “Thank you for the tea, and for letting me in, and for… I don’t know, maybe we can class this as an impromptu therapy session. But I should be going.”
When you turn around, you notice the pounding rain outside, pattering against the glass and into the open cover of the swimming pool. It’s relentless, the kind that you can hardly see through.
“Stay,” Conrad speaks from behind you.
You turn around to look at him, his eyes soft as if there could never be a bad intention behind them.
“You can take my bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.”
Your breath falls deeply from your chest, staring into eyes that had once broken you into pieces as you say, “Okay.”
———
The following morning, you step out of Conrad’s room and into the house. Everyone else is asleep, or at least you suppose they are from the shut bedroom doors and faint snores. You collect up your things and pad quietly along the wooden floors, wincing when one of the boards creaks on the staircase. You slip out of the back of the house, knowing the shortcut that would lead to your own house before your parents woke up to realise you’d never made it home.
It’s a crisp morning but the sun is just starting to warm the air and you squint against the bright light. Just visible at the end of the boardwalk leading towards the water, you can make out the shape of a boy sat in solitude. You’re not sure what draws you to him, maybe the same thing that had drawn you in the first place.
Conrad turns around when he hears your feet against the wooden pier and watches as you sit down in the seat beside him along the wooden bench, both of you looking out at the still water.
“Did you sleep well?” He asks, clearing his throat when the words come out dry.
You nod, “I always said your bed was comfy.”
Conrad nods, folding his arms over his chest, “The same can’t be said for those couches.”
You smile a little and look down at your hands in your lap, “Thank you for letting me stay.”
He shrugs, “It’s the least I could do. My Mom would kill me if I let you walk home alone in the rain.”
You’re both silent.
“I should pro-“
“Can I ask you something?” He cuts you off.
You settle back into your seat and look at him briefly, turning your head back to the water soon after, “Of course.”
“How did you get over it?” Conrad asks so simply as if the question has been playing on his mind a hundred times, “How did you make it look so easy?”
You take a deep breath, “It wasn’t easy, Con. I cried for weeks over you.”
He clenches his jaw, the mention of your hurt making him hate himself a little more, “But what about now?”
“I was home and you were in Boston. It was easier to get over you when we weren’t around each other. I just… I realised I could be fine by myself,” You swallow the lump in your throat, “I just convinced myself that there was nothing I could have done. That in a thousand lives in a thousand universes, you’d have still done the same - because you’d have just fallen out of love with me. And so it was out of my control.”
“You really think I fell out of love with you?” Conrad looks at you with his eyebrows slightly raised, his lips parting as if he’s echoing the hurt into silence.
“Come on Con,” You turn your head to him, “I was there. I watched you slip away.”
“I-“ He takes a deep breath, “I meant what I said yesterday. I was scared. It wasn’t that I fell out of love with you. Hell, I think I fell so in love with you that that’s why I jumped. Because I’d wake up and Id think of you and then I’d want to see you all day, and I’d go to bed thinking of you and every single day I knew you were all I ever wanted.”
You feel the lump form in your throat, the electricity coursing through your hands that just seem to want to reach for him.
“People would mention your name and I’d be listening for the rest of their sentence. I couldn’t see colours without thinking of you, I couldn’t hear songs without reminding myself of you, I couldn’t do anything without being consumed by you,” He gasps as if all air has left his lungs and his hand lifts to press against his chest, “You became me, my whole life. And I was so fucking terrified of it. I just… it’s stupid, I know it is. But I loved you too much to ever think I’d be enough for you, like I was waiting for the moment Id hurt you.”
“And you don’t think ending it was what hurt me?” You point out.
He laughs a little and you see the tension release a tiny bit, “Yeah, yeah, I guess I should’ve thought of that.”
“You know the worst thing you can do when you love someone that much is to push them away? To make them feel like they’re not loved, not wanted, not worth it,” You explain, “You might’ve felt all of those things Conrad but did you ever try to tell me that? To show me that?”
He closes his eyes and swallows the lump in his throat, “I want to. Now, I want to.”
You shift yourself on the wooden bench and draw your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them, “Okay.”
“Wh- what?” Conrad blinks, “I don-“
“We’re not getting back together, Con. I’m not the same girl that I was when we first got together, and you’re clearly not the same guy. But I think we need to get to need to get to know these versions of ourselves - and if those two love each other, then they’ll make it work,” You nod, more certain of yourself than ever before, “I’m (Y/n).”
Conrad looks down at your outstretched hand and smiles to himself, clasping it to shake his hand with yours, “I’m Conrad.”
He keeps his hand around yours and his thumb brushes your skin. When his grip releases, you watch his hand flex slightly away from the loss of touch.
You look into his eyes, the ones that pierced into your soul so often. And you feel a little piece of yourself melt under his gaze, a little piece of your heart swell softly.
“Well, (Y/n), do you like pancakes?”
“I do.”
He outstretches a hand once again and this time you lace your fingers with him, a course of adoration flooding through you.
You could do this.
You had healed.
You could be you, and he could be him. And the two could cross once more.
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Text
Happier than ever
Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader
Summary: Your previous relationship was toxic and you're still coping with it.
Disclaimer: English is not my first language. This was requested by one of you 🤗
Warnings: Mention of domestic abuse and toxic relationship
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MASTERLIST
“Babe,” you called out as you walked inside the kitchen where your girlfriend was making dinner for both of you.
“Yes, love?” Elizabeth replied without turning back, though she reached out her free arm to curl around your waist as soon as you got close enough.
You leaned over to take a deep breath and look inside the pan, groaning when your mouth watered at the sight and smell. Elizabeth chuckled and pinched your side playfully, making you squirm away with a laugh. “How long until we can eat?” You asked with some sort of playful plea behind your words.
“Soon. Can you keep the black hole you call your stomach in check until then?”
You knew she was playing with you, teasing, the same way she always did, but you still bit your bottom lip when tears pricked at the back of your eyes. It was silly, but you had a hard week and you were quite sensible about everything lately. Deep down you knew it was a joke. At that moment, though, you asked yourself if Elizabeth thought you were eating too much. And, if so, if she thought you had gained weight.
“What were you going to ask me?” Elizabeth asked, snapping you out of your thoughts.
You were about to ask something totally different, but you couldn’t brush the worries to the side. “Are you saying I eat too much?” Her reply was to scoff and roll her eyes, which was not an answer at all and only made you worry even more. You didn’t press the subject, even if you wanted to insist on a direct answer. “Well, I was going to ask if you’re going to be here next week. Friday.”
“No,” Elizabeth said without missing a beat, but this time she turned her head to give you a sad smile. “I travel on Wednesday, remember? I have the Comic Con coming up.”
“Oh, right,” you sighed and frowned.
Elizabeth’s busy schedule was a surprise to you since the beginning of your relationship. You could barely keep up with it, couldn’t even understand how it was possible for someone to travel so much, but you liked to think you were getting better at it. It has been six months since you met and four since you officially started dating, but those have been the best months of your life, for sure.
“Why do you ask?”
“Oh, my friend is throwing a party and invited us,” you explained. “But I will tell them we can’t go.”
“I can’t go,” she corrected you, clearly confused as she threw you a glance. “You can. Or do you have something else to do?”
“Oh,” you breathed out. You didn’t realize it, but your fingers were grabbing your telephone harder than they needed to, your knuckles going white. “I just… Well, since you can’t go, and it’s a nightclub, I thought…”
You thought you weren’t allowed to go, but you didn’t say it out loud. You had a girlfriend now, you were in a relationship, and you weren’t supposed to go out without Elizabeth, especially not to a nightclub. Just after that thought crossed your mind, you wanted to scold yourself.
Of course you could go, of course you could have fun, of course you were allowed to be outside without your girlfriend. You just had to keep reminding yourself of that because it didn’t come naturally to you.
“You should go,” Elizabeth said, once again taking you out of your head without even realizing it. “That’s your friend from college, right? You told me you missed her.”
“Right, yes,” you mumbled. She moved to grab something and you took two steps back to give her room to do so, going silently as you watched her for a few more seconds. “I will think about it.”
You are mostly in silence, although Elizabeth kept talking about her upcoming agenda so you didn’t have to say much. She seemed excited to do interviews with her castmates and to see some of them again, and didn’t notice you were oddly quiet. You washed the dishes after you were done eating and you both watched some comedy movie before going to bed to sleep. You woke up feeling much better the next morning, thinking last night had been just a small downfall.
[...]
It happened again two weeks after Elizabeth was back from her trip. You were at your apartment this time eating pizza and drinking wine because neither of you wanted to cook. You were sitting at the table trying to finish off some work you brought home while Elizabeth was sitting across from you reading some of her lines for an upcoming shooting, both of you in comfortable silence.
It has been maybe half an hour or less that you were taking notes and writing down a few things when you remembered something and quickly grabbed a post-it to scribble four numbers on it. You reached out to glue it at the table in front of your girlfriend and she lowered her papers to look at it with confusion. She arched her eyebrows and looked at you, clearly asking for an explanation, and you shrugged.
“I changed my phone’s password yesterday.”
Elizabeth blinked at you, then looked down at the four numbers you had picked to be your new password, then back at you. “Is this your password?”
“Yes.” You nodded, already turning your attention back to your work. You were already biting the back of your pen again trying to decipher the numbers your team had provided you with when you noticed she was still looking at you. “What?”
“Why did you give me your password?”
You opened your mouth to reply, only to quickly close it again when you realized what you were about to say. Your cheeks burned in shame when you noticed what you did and why you had done it, and you quickly reached out to grab the post-it again, crumpling it with your hand and choosing not to reply to her. It would sound as stupid out loud as it did inside your head. She didn’t ask for your password, she never even asked to look at your phone, to see your text messages, to take a look at your DMs.
Once again, you were betrayed by habit.
Luckily for you, Elizabeth’s phone rang a second later and she excused herself to answer it, saying it was the director of her new movie. You watched her go before you took a deep breath and ran your hands down your face. You stared at the screen of your computer for so long that Elizabeth was back before you even moved to go back to work.
When she sat across from you, it seemed she didn’t even remember the odd conversation you had a few minutes ago, and you weren’t sure you were glad.
[...]
“Excuse me,” you heard someone saying to your left and turned around out of instinct more than anything. You saw a nice looking girl, with a soft smile, dark hair, and dark eyes, looking at you and you waited for her to keep talking since you had no idea why she caught your attention. “I normally don’t do this, but I was looking at you and I thought… Well, maybe you could give me your number so we can grab a coffee someday.”
You felt your eyes widen and your mouth drop open in shock, but you wasted no time looking out for your girlfriend to see if she had heard this girl talking. Elizabeth was leaning against the counter looking at the menu while she tried to pick what she wanted to drink and didn’t seem to have paid any attention to that, so you sighed in relief and turned around to the girl again. You offered her a polite smile before taking a respectful step back.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I have a girlfriend.”
“That’s okay. I’m sorry to bother you.”
And, just like that, the girl was gone with her cheeks red and a shy smile. You shook your head and approached Elizabeth to look over her shoulder at the menu to pick up your order, but her voice made your entire body freeze.
“You keep turning heads whenever you walk, huh?”
Your heart started to race and your mind ran a mile per hour trying to come up with a reply, but then Elizabeth turned her head to look at you and she had an amused smile and bright green eyes filled with mischief, which made you quickly realize she was only teasing you. She wasn’t mad. She thought it was funny.
Not sure how you could reply to that, you simply rolled your eyes. “Pick your coffee. The line is already outside the door.”
She chuckled, looked away and started giving her order to the boy behind the counter. Meanwhile, you cursed yourself for having another panicked reaction. When you sat down to drink your coffee, Elizabeth started chatting about her most recent trip and you listened as much as your troubled mind allowed you to.
Eventually, after she took a break to sip at her coffee, you decided to address something that had been bothering you for a while now. “Lizzie, remember when I told you about my previous relationship?”
She frowned, but nodded. “Yes. You said it ended a couple of years ago.”
“Well, yes, but… I didn’t mention that it ended badly after a huge fight we had. One of the fights we had,” you told her. “We had many fights, actually.”
“Oh,” she breathed out, seemingly confused as to why you were telling her that.
“Yeah, she was… she was a bit jealous.” You sighed. “She would have flipped a table if someone hit on me like that.” You decided not to mention that a table would have been literally flipped if your ex-girlfriend was the one standing there. The relationship you had before Elizabeth wasn’t a good one, even if you stayed with your ex for almost eight years. Every once in a while, you were surprised to see how different things could be with Elizabeth.
“Well, you are a very beautiful woman,” Elizabeth said with a charming smile and a wink at you. “I can’t blame people for looking.”
And she looked so happy, so relaxed, so truthful saying that, that you didn’t have the heart to keep telling her about the things you lived before she came into your life. Instead, you also smiled and decided to brush it off. You would talk to your therapist again, you would keep working to heal some wounds that were still bleeding, and it would be fine.
It would be fine.
[...]
You were putting some clean clothes away when you felt two hands suddenly grabbing your waist and a yelled: “Gotcha!” right to your ear.
You were distracted, thinking about work and your chores, so you obviously weren’t expecting that. The yell that left your lips wasn’t a normal one. It wasn’t a surprised, playful one. It wasn’t one you could brush off with a laugh. No. You yelled like you were afraid for your life, dropping everything you had in your hands and shrinking away before you could stop yourself.
And then, because things weren’t already bad enough, you felt yourself slipping into a panic attack very fast. Your breath got hollow, your heart started to race, your vision blurred, and all you wished was to crawl to a corner and cry.
“Hey, hey, it’s me,” you heard Elizabeth saying, only then realizing it had been her who sneaked behind you. “Y/N, calm down, take a breath.”
You tried to. You really did. But your chest felt like there was a train on top of it and you were shaking so much that you almost missed the edge of the bed when you tried to sit on it. You barely felt Elizabeth’s hands guiding you, you certainly missed when she tried talking to you again, and you didn’t notice when she walked to the kitchen to grab you a cup of water before returning as fast as she could. She coaxed you to drink the water, then grabbed your hands and started asking you to name things you could see, things you could smell, things you could feel, and things you could hear, until your breathing started to calm down and you were able to look at her again.
“Are you okay?” She asked, her eyes filled with concern and guilt, and you couldn’t take that so you looked away.
“Yes,” you whispered.
“Are you sure?” You nodded, soon hearing a sigh from her. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to scare you that much. I just… I saw you were distracted and I thought it would be fun to jump on you. I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s not your fault,” you told her with a sad smile.
It was sad because it really wasn’t her fault, but the one to blame for that wasn’t around. No, the person who made that to you was far away, living her life without traumas, without dealing with those moments of doubts and fears, acting as if she hadn’t ruined you forever. You were the one who stayed with all of that to deal with. You were the one with the scars, the wounds, the hurt. And you just lashed out at someone who had nothing to do with that.
“My love,” Elizabeth said in a gentle, concerned voice. Her hands were placed at your thighs, but she wasn’t moving them, afraid her touch might trigger something else. “Can you tell me what happened?”
You didn’t want to, not really. Because you knew things would change after you said something. You wouldn’t have Elizabeth playfully jumping on you. However, you knew you should tell her everything because it wasn’t fair to you to endure it all alone.
So you took a deep breath and patted the bed beside you so she would get up from where she was crouched on the floor. Elizabeth understood and quickly got up to sit beside you, reaching out to grab your hands as soon as she sat. You smiled a bit at that, although it soon disappeared as you thought about how to start that conversation.
“My ex-girlfriend…” You had to pause to swallow the lump that raised in your throat. “When we had that fight that led to our breakup, she… well, she pushed me really hard when I was doing the dishes. I hit my head against the cupboard. She started yelling into my face, calling me names and all of that because she thought I was cheating on her. Well, that was the night I decided to leave her, but… But so many things happened before that.” Your voice was barely a whisper at the end, but you felt Elizabeth squeezing your hand and giving you the strength to keep talking. “It was never physical before that, though I’m sure it would be a common thing if I stayed after that night. It was small things that I didn’t even realize at first, you know? She would look through my phone, so I always had to give her the password to access it or it would start a massive fight. Every time I had to change it, for whatever reason, she got so mad. So mad,” you added with a grimace. “She would make small comments about my weight and the way I looked just to make me sad. I know that’s why she did that. I would be having a good day, a day where I was happy, and she would say something just to see my smile go away.”
“Oh, baby,” Elizabeth whimpered and you wondered if she even noticed she said it out loud.
“I couldn’t go out with my friends without her and, even when we did go out with them, I had to stay next to her,” you continued. “If someone hit on me, she would yell at me, say it was my fault, that I was acting like a whore and that’s why people thought they could come to me. She was jealous of everything and everyone, it was a nightmare. I lost count of how many times we had a massive fight about nothing and she would just storm out and I would stay up all night wondering if she was okay, wondering if she was coming back or not.” You took another deep breath. You had been looking at your joined hands since you started talking, knowing you wouldn’t be able to say it all if you were looking at her. “We broke up over two years ago and I thought… I thought I would never enter another relationship again, but then I met you and I…” You opened and closed your mouth a couple of times, suddenly at a loss of words to express what you wanted. “I’m so lucky to have you in my life, Lizzie. You’re nothing like her. Nothing,” you repeated to make sure she would understand that. “But she left scars in me that just pop up sometimes.”
“Oh, baby,” Elizabeth said once you were done talking, now looking at her. It was clear she wanted to reach out to hug you but wasn’t sure if the gesture would be welcome, which made you even more sad. That’s what you were afraid of. That’s why you hadn’t said anything before. “I’m so, so sorry that you had to go through that.”
“Yes, well,” you smiled sadly. “It’s over. I left that place and never looked back.”
“You did,” she agreed with you. “You were so brave.”
“Now you know why I randomly gave you my password,” you tried to joke, but you couldn’t master enough humor to do so.
“How could I have not realized it before?” Elizabeth asked herself. “God, how didn’t I see it before?!”
“I didn’t tell you anything before,” you reminded. “And you had a lot on your plate already.”
“That’s not an excuse,” she insisted. “You’re my girlfriend, someone I deeply care for, someone I love. I should have paid more attention to those signals. Gosh, they’re so clear now that you said it.”
“Lizzie, that’s the thing,” you interrupted her. “Now that I told you, you know what to look for. You didn’t know before. I’m not going to apologize for not saying anything because I wasn’t ready to do so. I know it’s been two years, but it still pains me to remember some things.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
“Neither do you.” You looked at her with stern eyes. “You didn’t know.”
“You tried to tell me that day at the coffee shop,” she reminded with a frown. “You told me you guys used to fight, but I didn’t think…”
“Elizabeth, stop.” Your firm voice made her close her mouth and look at you with wide green eyes. “It happened, it can’t be changed. You know I go to therapy and I like to think I’m getting better and better every day, but it’s hard to break some habits, especially the bad ones. I’m telling you this now so you can understand some of my actions as well. I overreacted when you scared me, but I had a reason to. I freeze when you walk behind me when I’m on my phone, because I expect you to grab it from my hand. I might cry if you raise your voice while we discuss something, because I expect you to yell at me and walk away. I’m trying to be better, but you need to know that those things might happen along the way.”
“My love, I’m so proud that you told me this,” Elizabeth affirmed, suddenly bringing tears to your eyes. “And I’m so proud of you for leaving something that wasn’t good for you. I promise I will be more aware of those things. I won’t jump on you anymore, I won’t make any jokes that might make you uncomfortable. You just name it and I will do it. Whatever you need.”
You felt your heart full with the honesty you could see on her face and hear in her voice. Elizabeth seemed truly worried, truly willing to find ways to help you out, to make things easier for you, and you felt the lump in your throat again.
“I bet you weren’t expecting to end up with a mess like me,” you commented with a watery laugh.
However, Elizabeth shook her head vehemently. “Don’t say that. You’re not a mess. Do you remember when I told you I don’t like getting drunk or being around people who get drunk? I noticed that you never drank too much after that. You’re always in control to make me comfortable. That’s what I want to do for you. That’s what you deserve at the very least.”
“I love you,” you whispered since all the emotions running through you were making it hard to say anything else.
“I love you too, my love. And I promise you to be by your side as long as you want me to.”
“I hope you have the time, then,” you joked, already leaning in for a kiss. “Because I don’t want you to be anywhere else.”
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angelltheninth · 7 months
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I really love your writing! Can I ask headcanons for Peter B. Parker, Spider-Man Noir, Miguel O'Hara, and Hobie Brown reacting to their s/o saying they can hold the world in their hands while gently cupping their cheeks? I really love this prompt!
It's a good prompt Anon, really sweet to say to someone.
Pairing: Peter B. Parker, Miguel O'Hara, Hobie Brown, Noir x Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, teasing, kissing, cuddles, banter, words of affection, blushing
A/N: Another romance cliché for today. Enjoy the romance!
Peter starts to tear up when you tell him how much he means to you. He never thought he'd find someone who would look at him like this again but he found you after all. Not only that but you feel the exact same way, to him you're his world, and he would do anything for your happiness. Are you making fun of him by laughing? He was being serious! Ah. It's because you knew he was sappy. Would a sappy man lift you up and kiss you? Yes he would, so he is a sappy guy after all.
Miguel bites his lower lip when he hears those words. His hand glides over yours, his head turns to kiss your fingers, his soft purrs vibrating against your skin. He's not gonna deny them this time, don't worry. But only this time and just because you told him something so damn sweet. If he had to go through every world, every reality to find you he would do so. It would break the rules for sure, but you're more important. Maybe that's bad but he doesn't care.
Hobie teases you about being cheesy with your lines but oddly enough he doesn't pull away from your hands. Even though he's rolling his eyes he likes the fact that you're such a cute hopeless romantic. He can be one too, but don't tell anyone, he has a reputation to keep and he won't have it ruined just because his heart melted from one romantic gesture. When he decided he's had enough of your teasing he brings you to the couch and tells you to shut up, or he'll have to do it himself. Oh no, now that would be so terrible, you better keep on talking.
Noir was cuddling with you when you said that and the words got a rare laugh out of him. This is why you got into his lap and cupped his cheeks? He should have known you had something up your sleeve. He didn't say to stop, he just wanted to point it out. You're always cute in his eyes but you're even cuter when he manages to reverse the flirting back at you. A kiss won't be enough to distract him, maybe something a little more intimate would do the trick.
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ohbo-ohno · 7 months
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what happens the first time Johnny comes home with some new sex toys for reader?? Cue your absolute PANIC as he pulls them out to show you, ecstatic at the thought of trying them out when Simon gets home, and then Johnny having to do damage control when he sees how he’s freaked out his precious baby :////
YOU!!!!!! Get back here!!!!!! You genius!!!!!
1.6k, nsfw below the cut. this one’s pretty long lol it really got away from me. pretend it’s a gift since i just hit 100 followers <3
Johnny’s like a dog with a bone when it comes to you - he can literally never get enough. When you don’t wake up to his mouth licking and sucking somewhere on you, you wake up to the feeling of him humping your back. On one occasion Simon threatened to “cage your little cock if it’s all you can think with, Johnny.” So like… you know they use toys. You probably should’ve expected this at some point.
But knowing they are probably comfortable using toys and staring at the goddamn spread of sex toys on the dinner table? Two very different things.
There are things you can’t even name. You spot several different types of vibrators, butt plugs of varying sizes, anal beads, nipple clamps, a few gags smaller than the ones they’d used on you a few times, several loops of rope and handcuffs, a fucking hook that you don’t even want to think about what it could be used for, and the goddamn crème de la crème - a butt plug with a fucking tail hanging from Johnny’s hand.
The bastard is smiling. Fucking beaming, like he’s found the meaning of life in a pile of sex toys.
It’s barely 9 a.m.
“Good morning, lovie!” Johnny says, pulling you towards him and placing an oddly chaste kiss on your forehead. “We’ve got a long day love. D’you know Si’s birthday is in a week?”
You can’t tear your eyes away from the cornucopia of sex toys, hardly listening to him as he prattles on.
“Bloody unfair he’s got the anniversary and the birthday so close, means I hafta get the man all sorts of gifts in just a month.” He glances down at you and shoots you a wink, twirling the tail in his hand likes it’s a fidget toy. “Some of them are for both of us, though, so I can’t complain too much, aye bonnie?”
You don’t answer, but he plows foreword anyways. “This’ll be the first part of the gift. Gonna let Simon play with you - well, both of us, but I had to buy the new stuff for you.”
You swallow dryly, hand twitching forward as if you’re going to grab one of the toys. “Play?” Is all you can manage to ask.
Johnny hums low in his throat, tucking himself behind you and wrapping both arms around you. He takes your wrists, still holding the toy in his hand, and guides your fingers across the spread in front of you. “Yeah, lass. You like playing with us, huh?”
You shake your head minutely.
“Don’t lie now,” he rumbles, and you remind yourself that he’s just as terrifying as Simon, only in a different way. Somehow you always forget to tread as carefully around Johnny, but the deep growl of his voice reminds you. “You’re soaked when we play, wailing loud enough we had to explain to the landlord what the noise was. You like it plenty.”
You whine a little, flinching backwards into his body at the reminder of your behavior at night. You don’t like it, don’t like thinking about how much you love being between the two of them, how right it feels.
“Now,” Johnny’s voice shifts back into its normal cadence, hands giving you two little taps on the front of your thighs as he steps away. “Si won’t be back until tonight, so the two of us are gonna test these out and have some fun. Excited, lass? I’m thinking we’ll start with this, work on your posture a bit.”
He picks up the fucking hook. You can’t help but lose your shit.
— — — — —
Ghost is in decently high spirits as he finally gets home. His work had been cut short hours early, and he was looking forward to spending a night in with his two precious little pets, curled up together on the couch and maybe even having a home cooked meal. He’d have to see if you could be trusted with a knife, but the idea of watching you and Johnny dance around each other in the kitchen is enough for him even if he doesn’t get to see it realized.
That all goes out the window when he steps into the flat.
He can hear the two of you, Johnny’s voice a little urgent and yours more than a little panicked. Not the most unusual thing, but the absolutely demolished living room is.
He and Johnny hadn’t decorated much - neither of them had an eye for it and once they got you they wanted to let you decorate your new home - but what little they had done is out of place. A picture frame on the floor, dining room chairs feet away from the table and knocked over, a goddamn knife stabbed into a side table next to the slightly askew couch.
And a shit load of sex toys, both on the dining room table and the floor all around it.
It barely takes a heartbeat for Ghost to piece together what’s happened. He sighs wearily, resists the urge to rub at his eyes with his forefinger and thumb so he doesn’t track paint all across the house.
He moves further into their home, heading straight for the bedroom. Sure enough, Johnny’s got you cornered. You’re slid down on the floor, back pushed as far into the wall as you can go and knees tucked up under you.
Johnny’s crouched in front of you, one hand holding both of your wrists securely in front of you and the other holding your ankles together. He’s got scratches down his face and arms, a few that are seeping just a bit of blood, and a nasty bruise forming on one cheek.
He’s also rock hard in his sweatpants.
Both of you snap your eyes to Simon when he steps in the room. Johnny’s expression is pure relief, but yours is a mix of what looks like relief and fear. There’s a little spark in Ghost’s chest at the knowledge that you see him as a helping hand here, even against what’s probably your better judgement.
He tilts his head a bit. “Johnny.” Not a question, but an expectation.
“She freaked out on me, L.t.,” Johnny says - nearly whines - eyes big and pleading.
“Because you-!” You start up, thrashing in Johnny’s grip. “You fucking bastard, I was defending myself!”
“Against me?” Johnny makes a sad noise, one Simon knows is more manipulative than it sounds, leaning in to hover over you even more. “Baby, you know I’d never hurt you. How could you think that, huh?”
“You wanted to stick a fucking hook up my ass!”
That gets a raised eyebrow from Simon. Seems Johnny’s plans for the day were far more exciting than he had let on.
Johnny can’t help but bark out a laugh, which gets a little scream of rage from you and reinvigorates your thrashing. Johnny leans more weight into you, pulling your wrists further out to keep you off balance. It just works you up more, and Ghost can see Johnny’s cock twitch in his pants.
Alright. Time to do damage control.
He steps into the corner with the two of you, lays a heavy hand on Johnny’s nape and squeezes. His boy doesn’t let go immediately, but he does go loose, leaning one shoulder onto a wall and blocking less of your body.
You’re heaving as Simin crouches down, but your eyes are dry. A good sign for the progress you’ve made.
Simon brings his other hand up to grab your chin, pulling it up and forcing eye contact. “Didn’t want to play around with Johnny, love?”
You’re a little scared - always are, when he comes home with the mask and the makeup - but you don’t tear your eyes from his. Your tiny chin quivers in his grip, but you don’t cry. He can’t help but feel a surge of pride for you and your strength
“I didn’t want him fucking with me. I’m allowed to say no,” you hike you chin in the air a little, stiff and all but daring him to disagree.
He doesn’t play into your hands, just hums and strokes both of his thumbs - one over your chin and the other over Johnny’s neck. “You are,” he agrees, fighting down a smirk at the clear shock on your face. “But did you give Johnny a chance?”
“No-“ Johnny pouts, huffing and shifting in place.
“Quiet,” Simon growls, hand squeezing just past comfortable on his neck. “You’re already in trouble for doing all this shit without askin’. Keep pushin’ and you won’t be sleeping in bed tonight.”
That gets a whine, but no more arguing. Good.
You look a little confused when Ghost turns his attention back to you, but he doesn’t bother explaining.
“You are allowed to say no,” he starts again. “But you should give new things a chance. What if you’d liked having,” he can’t resist a smirk, let’s it seep into his tone, “a hook up your ass?”
You flinch back, and Simon bites down a sigh. You’re not in a place for joking yet, apparently.
He stays crouched there for a few minutes, petting both you and Johnny and watching as you both go limp - Johnny quickly, you with a little more work.
“Alright,” he days eventually, standing and tugging the both of you up with him. “Let’s rest for a bit, get the two of you calmed down, and then we’ll talk punishment.”
You and Johnny wear matching pouts, and Simon doesn’t even fight the smile as he tugs all three of you into bed.
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holylulusworld · 2 months
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Golden Boy vs. Dirty Boy (1) - The base
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Summary: You end up between two tidal waves.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader x Soldier Boy
Warnings: banter, arguments, sexism, misogyny (SB), fighting, violence, talk about sex, characters death (the bad guys), mentions of decapitation
Golden Boy vs. Dirty Boy masterlist
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“Did you have to break that man’s neck? You didn’t even give him the chance to fight back,” Steve complains on your way toward the next complex of the building you, Steve, and a new ally, calling himself Soldier Boy try to infiltrate.
Well, he’s not new in this world. Rather an old archenemy slash concurrent of Steve. Locked away for centuries, just like his super-soldier counterpart. Soldier Boy is a stark contrast to your ever so gentlemanly and old-fashioned Captain.
“Do I look like I give a single fuck?” Soldier Boy flashes you a smirk while insulting your Captain. “How about you give them pet names and offer tea while I rip their heads off for killing innocent people for fun?” He challenges now. “When they signed up for becoming mass-murders they knew what they were getting into.”
“Cap, he’s not wrong,” you interject, hoping you can stop them from butting heads, or worse. “We shouldn’t waste more time, though. There are only three of us, and there are hundreds of them. Backup is not available for another five hours. So, let’s get in without making too much noise, get the information, and start the countdown to destroy the base.”
“Good idea, agent Y/L/N,” Steve ignores Soldier Boy’s angry stare and pats your shoulder. “Always so reliable and loyal.”
“Sure, Captain.” You quickly reply, unsure why Steve’s eyes look a little darker. You stare at his mouth for a moment, mesmerized by the way his tongue wets his sinfully pink lips. “Anytime.”
“I bet I can make her salute even faster,” you squeak when Soldier Boy grabs a handful of your ass. Leaving you stunned and oddly aroused. He’s crass and misogynic, loud and just the right kind of wrong, “while my cock ruins her sweet ass.”
“First and final warning,” Steve raises his index finger at Soldier Boy. The thick vein in his neck bulges, and damn that man is flexing his muscles. He grimaces, and angrily glares at Soldier Boy while images of his bearded face between your thighs make your knees buckle.
“OR what?” Soldier Boy challenges. “Do you think you can stop me from ripping that cute tactical suit off of her ripe body and make her cunt my home? I don’t think so.”
“Guys.” You sigh and forget about your secret fantasies for a moment. “We don’t have time for this. If we don’t change position, we are all fucked, not only my juicy ass.”
“What?” Steve swallows thickly at your words. His concurrent whistles and makes another crude comment about your ass.
“MOVE!” You grunt and push against Steve’s back. “I don’t want to end up dead because you had to fight with him again. Shield accepted him on the team. Stop moping and start moving your asses before I slap your bum.”
“You want to slap my bum, agent?” Steve cocks a brow, looking more amused than surprised. “I’d like to see you try.”
“I’m not against a little spanking,” Soldier Boy throws in. “On both ends, sweetness. Let’s get out of here and inside my apartment. I’m gonna show you heaven.” He looks you up and down, and hums. “Or hell, if you want me to.”
“I want you to shut up and do your job,” you snap at the cocky supe. “I know you two believe we all are only foot soldiers following your lead, but this is my mission, and you will do as I say. Move soldier, now.”
Steve watches you dismantle Soldier Boy’s charm. He grins and nods in your direction. “Let’s hurry then, agent. We don’t want to ruin your mission.”
“Aw, he tries to impress you with his submissive side,” Soldier Boy cackles. “I’m not some foot soldier you can order around, sweet cheeks. After we finish this, you’ll pay for yelling at me.”
“Eat me,” you bite back. “If you are brave enough.”
You stomp off, Steve hot on your heels. Soldier Boy watches you leave. He licks his lips and cups his crotch. “Oh, I will eat you, sweetness…”
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“Y/N, down!” Steve throws his shield at another enemy. He growls your name and throws himself into battle to run another attacker over. “Down, agent.”
“The fuck no!” You fire your last bullet at the next guy attacking Steve. “I’m not some damsel in distress.” You pant, and slam your fist into the last man’s face, breaking his nose. He grunts and tries to take you down.
“Hey, that’s my pound of flesh to pound,” Soldier Boy throws his shield at the man attacking you. He decapitates his head, laughing as you shriek and ungracefully jump backward. You land on your ass, crawling away as the head rolls toward you.
“What did I say about killing people?” Steve grunts while you try to not look at the head, and the dead man’s eyes staring back at you.
“I had to save our damsel in distress.” Soldier Boy shrugs. He picks up his shield, cleaning it on the recently deceased man's jacket. “Now, back to the mission. I want to get out of this suit and inside a warm cunt.”
“Gross,” Steve holds out his hand to help you up while your other team member is busy looking inside the cabinets at the laboratory you successfully infiltrated.
“You’re jealous, that’s all,” Soldier Boy opens another cabinet. “I can fuck whoever I want without ruining my reputation.”
“Shut up!” You grunt. “You almost killed me with that fucking shield!”
“You’re alive, and still got your tongue to talk back,” he shrugs. “What do we have here?” Grabbing a vial he smirks. “Do you think this is a drug? Maybe kinky shit helping you get the stick out of your ass, Cappy?”
“Don’t touch shit at the lab!” You try to stop Soldier Boy from doing something stupid. Again. It’s not the first time he got you into trouble.
“DON’T!” Steve screams as Soldier Boy carelessly drops the vial to the ground. “You idiot! NO!”
“Steve, what’s wrong?”
“He just killed us all,” Steve runs toward the broken vial to read the broken seal. “No, it’s even worse.”
“What can be worse than getting killed?” You huff.
“He doomed us to do the unspeakable,” the captain replies.
“Damn, I’m jazzed,” Soldier Boy claps his hands and grins at Steve. “What will we do?”
“Fuck.” Steve replies.
“Yeah, well we got that we are fucked, Steve,” you pat Steve’s shoulder. “But what was in the vial, and what will happen?”
“WE WILL FUCK. Anything and anyone coming to our path until it’s out of our system, Y/N. And if you don’t step away, I’ll go for you first,” Steve turns back around. His eyes are dilated, and he salivates as his eyes roam your body. “Get away from me. Now.”
“Fuck? OH!” Soldier Boy grins. “We will fuck!” He snickers. “Let’s do this then. I can’t wait to get my dick inside of you and ruin your holes.”
“Guys, that’s not funny,” you giggle, but press your legs together. “We should call for help. Right?”
Soldier Boy looks at Steve and then at you. He doesn't feel the influence yet but is more than happy to have the chance to get his hands on you and Steve.
“So, who wants to get dicked down first?”
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Tags in reblog.
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formulaforza · 8 months
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—the seasons of love
or: the enemies to lovers situationship fic charles leclerc x female reader summ. spring and the lovely silence of growing things. minors dni. nsfw warnings under the cut. 7.6k part one part two part three part four part five
18+ because: oral (m receiving, rough), spit, hair pulling, drunk drunk drunk get crunk
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“Goodnight Arthur,” you said, lingering behind as your family started off down the road in the opposite direction that he and his were. 
Your dress, long and linen, blows in the evening breeze and draws goosebumps to your skin. Your hands clutch your phone and a small purse, the cross body strap wrapped around your hand three times. Your ponytail sways with your hips when you walk. Turning to Charles, you nod, purse a smile. “Charles.”
“Goodnight,” he replies curtly, perfectly polite. 
“The two of you are still talking after a whole day together? Did Hell freeze over while we were out there?” Arthur laughs.
A strange silence, one that only you and Charles are aware of, swallows the lull of the cicadas in the streetlights. It’s early in the year for them, typically holding out on their spring song until a bit further into the season. Charles drags his feet on the concrete, drawing out every step to be a beat too slow. “Stranger things have happened,” he remarks under his breath, his middle finger picking at the cuticle of his thumb before shoving his hands deep in his pockets. 
“Have they?” Arthur continues to poke fun at the two of you, at the unlikeliness of a quareless evening. You’re surprised, too. Never would have guessed a few hours earlier that the evening would end up the way it had. 
(Five hours earlier)
He’s sulking and it's becoming pathetic. Every single thing about his body moves around the yacht like a kicked puppy, all sullen and blue and hosting another private-pity party. His sighs grow more and more dramatic, less and less patient with each moment that passes without someone feeling as bad for him as he feels for himself. 
You knew, maybe better than anyone, how fiercely competitive he is, how much pressure he carries on his shoulders. You'd seen the highs and the lows of it all, and despite the underlying annoyance that was Charles, you still wanted what was best for him. It’s just human nature to hope. 
This season has been beating him up, you knew, even if you didn’t follow it the way some of your friends did. Strategy has been shit, you’ve heard, luck somehow shitter. He’d talked such a big game before the start of the season, quietly confident and subtly cocky in a way that almost makes you believe he can predict the future. 
Usually, you would relish in his annoyance, but today you’ve found yourself feeling oddly concerned. You refused to let him ruin the beautiful day, ruin the moods of your siblings and his. It’s the determination to save the day that leads you to the yacht railing, feet away from his brooding, lost in thought expression. 
“You seem a bit off today,” you remarked, voice lades with a teasing tone, a poor attempt to lighten the mood. 
He glances up at you, a hint of a smile tugging on his lips. “You always have such a way of pointing out the obvious, don’t you?” He retorted, but his annoyance is all bark, no bite, softened entirely by the playful glint in his eyes. 
“Well,” you shoot back, minorly annoyed, massively amused. “It’s not everyday you look like a sulking child.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “And always full of delightful compliments,” he replied, gaze lingering on your lips for a moment too long before he tears them away. 
You smirk, lean in a bit closer. “You love it,” you taunt.
He raises an eyebrow, a challenge gleaming in his eyes. “Oh, do I now?” He quips, leaning in just enough to make your stomach sink. You feign indifference to his words, but your body betrays you, leaning in a fraction closer. 
“I know you better than you think,” you said, your voice almost a whisper. 
He chuckled again, the sound of it sending shivers down your spine. There’s something so deflated about him. “Is that so?” He muses, breath grazing against your ear, making your pulse quicken. 
You take a step back, attempt to find some sort of composure. “Maybe,” you replied with a playful shrug, not daring to meet his gaze. 
He leans in, fills the space you’d just created, mischievous glint in his eyes. “You’re always under my skin,” he admits, a hue of vulnerability in his voice leaving you unsettled. 
You finally meet his gaze, your eyes locking with his. “You love the challenge, though, don’t you?” You countered, tone serious now, hinting at something more, something deeper. 
He hesitates, a flicker of emotion crossing his features before he masks it with a smirk. “Maybe I do,” he replied, voice low and suggestive. 
The conversation drolls on, seconds between your words filled with charged silence. The subtle dance of glances and touches only adds to the tension, and you found yourself unable to break away, to return to the rest of the family on the upper deck. No, no, you have a feeling you’ll be going lower, even, farther away from them and closer to some private silence. 
“Do you ever wonder?” he asks, voice soft and full of curiosity. You have no interest in entertaining his words. 
“I don’t,” you reply, trying to keep your tone guarded. 
His brows furrow, challenging you. “Really?” Charles questions, his skepticism evident. 
You shrug. “It’s just easier this way, isn’t it?” you retort, a hint of bitterness creeping into your voice. Bitter that he feels entitled to ruin something that’s working just fine. 
“Easier?” He echoes, curiosity evident as he leans in even closer. 
You take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts as you meet his intense gaze. “Yeah, easier,” you say, the words spewing out with a touch of frustration. “It’s just a game.”
He studies you for a moment, eyes searching for any sign of vulnerability. You hope you’re talented enough to conceal them, that your secondary school drama class teacher taught you well. “You think it’s that simple?” he challenges, voice just painfully soft. 
“It’s not simple at all,” you admit, guard slipping for only a moment. “But it’s just what we do. It’s comfortable, in its own way.”
He nods, seeming to understand your reluctance. “So, what?” He asks, a trace of bitterness in his tone. “We just keep using each other whenever we feel like it?”
A mess of emotions swirls inside you as you meet his gaze, refusing to back down. “Maybe,” you remark, defiant. “But it’s better than facing the alternative.”
He seems to consider your words, the wright of your unspoken history. “You’re afraid,” he observes. Charles has called you afraid a million and one times in your life; from a ponytailed scaredy-cat to a selfish coward, he’s checked the box on every synonym. This time, though, his voice isn’t teasing or raging red. No, it’s surprisingly gentle. 
Your ears burn red hot. “I’m not afraid of anything,” you snap, try to push down everything just begging to boil over inside of you. 
He reaches out, his fingers lightly brushing against yours. You ignore the jolt of electricity, the fact that a simple touch holds more meaning than any words the two of you could exchange. You’re annoyed, now. Annoyed with him and the longing you refuse to acknowledge. It’s a powerful cocktail that you don’t want to begin to comprehend. 
He leans in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear. “You don’t have to be afraid,” he whispers, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. “Not with me.”
You heart pounds in your chest as you resist the urge to lean into him, to seek some fucked up sort of comfort in his arms. Instead, you push him away, maintain a safe distance. “I’m not afraid of you,” you say, voice horribly hushed. “I’m afraid of what this could become.”
He looks at you, some indistinguishable mix of emotions, of understanding and frustration and something else. “And what do you think this could become?” he asks, voice tinged with an edge of desire. 
You swallow hard, trying to ignore the way your body reacts to his proximity. “I don’t know,” you admit, feeling suddenly vulnerable and exposed. “But I don’t want to find out.”
He smiles like he knows something you don’t. It makes you crazy. “You’re always so stubborn,” he remarks, fingers moving from your hand to your jaw, brushing against your cheek. “Part of what drives me crazy about you.”
Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him, unable to tear your eyes away. The tension is palpable, unspoken words hanging in the heavy air. 
“I could help take your mind off things,” you suggest, voice low and suggestive. “Just for a little while.” 
He raises a brow, surprise evident in his expression. “Oh?” he replies, voice a mix of intrigue and amusement. You give him a playful smirk, leaning in a bit closer. You can play games, too. 
“I can be pretty distracting,” you tease, fingers moving to his arm, tracing circles on the linen covering his arm. 
He hesitates, you’ve got him torn. He says your name, attempts to steer the conversation back to the emotions you’re so clearly dancing around. 
But you cut him off, not willing to back down. “Please,” you sigh, your voice full of longing and playfulness. “Let me take your stress.”
He puts his foot down. Protests weakly. “We can’t just ignore this.”
For a moment, you consider pushing the issue further. Deep down, somewhere unexplored, you know that this isn’t the right time. So, you take a step back, move to walk away. Before you can take another step, his hand is on your wrist, pulling you back to him. 
His lips crash against yours in a fierce and desperate kiss, and you lose yourself in the intensity of the moments. The motions that have been building under the surface finally finds an outlet, and you can’t resist the pull any longer. 
You both give in to the passion, into the physical connection and the muddled emotions. It’s a moment of surrender, of letting go. For now, it’s enough. For now, you can avoid the conversation. 
You’re no more than a few steps away from the stairs, make quick work of them, of the lock on the door to the master suite. You didn’t even know the doors had locks on them. You hope they’re half as soundproof as they are expensive, but you doubt it. 
You’re already pawing for his cock, palming the chilly, half-damp material of his swim trunks before slipping your hand under the waistband, taking the fabric out of the equation entirely. 
You look up at him, look for his reaction, check to make sure that his eyes aren’t harboring some sick softness to them. The whole point of this is to get the softy shit off his mind, to leave him so satisfied that he doesn’t remember wanting to have that conversation with you, that he doesn’t remember how shitty his season’s going and how he’s latched onto something that doesn’t exist. 
“Tell me what you want,” you whisper into his mouth. “Anything.”
He whinges at your words, mumbles something to himself, cupping your jaw with his hands. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and you roll your eyes, but then his thumb is on your bottom lip, firm and heavy. “This fucking mouth,” he grumbles. 
Your fingers wrap around his cock, big and thick and warm. You run your thumb over his head, smile at the precum pooling there, spreading it around and watching the way his face twitches. You play coy, look at him with your biggest, most innocent doe eyes.  “What about it?”
He rocks on his feet, moves himself ever so slightly through your hand. He either thinks you’re oblivious to it, or he’s completely clueless to his own actions. Either way, it’s hot, and you stroke him that little bit faster. “Wanna feel it,” he says, thumb still on your lip, sinking into your mouth, onto your tongue, pushing you down, down, down onto your knees. 
The floor is cold, but you don’t care, so are his swim trunks. It’s hard, though, like most floors would be, and you’re sure you’ll have bruises by nightfall. You pull his shorts down, dick bouncing out of the waistband, twitching while he steps out of the fabric, kicks it to the side somewhere in the tiny room.
As you look up at him, a myriad of emotions wash over you. This dance is becoming so familiar, and yet, you’re surprised each time by the intensity of it. Even though you’d offered yourself, you find a way to be annoyed at how he uses you like this, turns you into a vessel to vent his stress and frustration. The other part of you, though, is so fucking turned on. Completely and utterly satisfied by the fact that you have this effect on him, that you can make him forget about his troubles, even if just temporarily. 
His eyes meet yours, that same vulnerability still there. It’s a regular sight for other people, to be looked at like this by him. It’s not your normal, though. It’s rare, something that tugs on you, makes you wonder what he’s thinking, desire a level of understanding that goes beyond the physical. 
You push those thoughts aside as quickly as you can, remind yourself that this is all casual. That you and he, this is nothing.
You spit into your hand, stroke it over his cock until it’s hard and wet and just crying for you. Your tongue trails a long stripe, from the base of his shaft to the head, swirling around his most sensitive spot. You’ve found yourself growing annoyingly fond of the noises you can pull from him. It’s a game within a game, pushing the limits to find just how pained you can make him sound. 
His hands run through your hair, slow and smooth, gathering your hair into a soft ponytail. You move a hand to his, push it against your head as if to tell him–fuck me, Charles. Use me. 
“Wait,” he says, and you pull off him with a pop. 
“What?” You probe, irritated that he’s already got something to say. 
“You have to tell me if I hurt you.”
You smirk, bite the inside of your cheek like you’re working through a real head-scratcher, putting on your best sarcastic tone. “And how do you suppose I do that?” 
“I’m serious.”
Your shoulders recoil into a shrug, a laugh helplessly falling from your lips. “So am I.”
He bites the inside of his cheek, visibly apprehensive. This never would have been an issue in January, back when the only thing he did was be openly annoyed by you. No, it’s all different now. He’s got feelings, now, wants to fucking worry about you and care about you. It makes your stomach twist and turn and knot. 
You roll your eyes. This is ridiculous, how many guys out here are stopping a woman from letting them do whatever they fucking want. It can’t be more than him, it can’t. “For fucks… you’ll know if you’re hurting me.”
He nods. “But how… will I know?”
“I don’t know… I’ll punch you in the dick or something.”
He laughs, a direct juxtaposition to his words. “You are not funny.”
You shrug, scowl. “I think I’m pretty funny.”
“I don’t know why you would think this.”
You purse your lips, puff a breath of air out of them, and hold up a single finger, pointing to him. “Fuck you,” you laugh. “I’ll tap the back of your leg,” you explain, demonstrating the gesture. “Is that good enough?”
His hands move through your hair again, fix his carefully crafted ponytail you’d messed up. “Yes. Thank you.”
You roll your eyes, take his dick in your hand again and start stroking. “Can I…?”
He nods. “I’m not stopping you.”
“I mean… “ you mumble against his skin, “you just did but…” and then you take him again, hollowed cheeks and flat tongue. 
“Jesus, you are insufferable,” he remarks, and you laugh around his dick. It makes him shudder. 
You try to focus on the moment, on his fingers gently grazing over your skin, hands guiding your head with a mixture of need and  urgency. You gag around his dick, choking on the thick shaft as it fills your mouth so perfectly. “Putain, fuck, so good,” he groans. You’d smile up at him if you could. 
The ponytail he’d been so proud of was nothing but a knotted mess now, his fingers tangling in search of grip. You hope he forgets it’s you, that it’s anyone. That he fucks into your throat until your couching and gagging and spit drips down your face, tears prick at your eyes. You hope your throat hurts tomorrow, that you lose your voice and gargle salt water and he’s the only person in the world who knows why. You hope you have to tap out on the back of his thigh. 
You come pretty close, the way he uses you like a filthy toy. Everytime you think you’re about to break, he pulls off your mouth, leaves you heaving for air, wiping spit off your face with the back of your hand. He leans down to kiss you once, hand under your chin, tilting your head up to meet his lips. You hope he tastes himself, knows just how good it is, how content you are with your life’s purpose. 
“Pretty girl,” he says, and you hum against his dick. It’s not often you’re on the receiving end of praise from him. “Take me so good.”
You’ve learned to know when he’s close, exactly how his body reacts when it’s lost all sight of anything but finishing. His pace gets silly, all kinds of unsynchronized and messy. He gets really quiet for a minute, spends all of it fighting with himself before he finally accepts it, and then he’s loud. A mix of nonsensical languages and curses, of groans and hums and remnants of what sounds like it wants to be your name. 
He’s a mess, and then he’s holding your head as close as he can, your nose pressed against the muscles of his abdomen as he bottoms out, drains himself into the back of your throat with a breathy, pained groan. 
You swallow around him greedily, want everything he has to give, all his cum and all his whimpers. He thrusts in and out of your mouth a few more times, and then he’s pulling out completely, hands cupping your face, pulling you up to stand. He kisses you, hard, and you still haven’t caught your breath–neither of you have–but you kiss until you can’t anymore, until your lungs burn to be filled with something that isn’t him. 
His thumbs wipe your face, the spit from your lips and the tears from the corners of your eyes. “I’m sorry,” he tells you, back arching to lower himself to your height. 
You want to swat his hands away. Clearly, though, this is something he feels he needs to do. “Why?” you chuckle. “That was hot.”
He matches your laugh, but his is laced with uneasy concern as he continues to try to clean up your face, fixing your hair and kissing you again, this time all soft and sure. “You’re crazy.”
“Yeah,” you pant. “You’re into it, though.”
You wonder if he regrets this, if he’s known all along the same way you have that this won’t end well, that it never would. His face mirrors yours, open mouth breathing and heaving chests and a mix of half a dozen emotions. You both know this is how it has to be, that anything more would be too complicated to manage. It stops you from the wonder. You hope it stops him. 
He sticks his head out of the door a few minutes later, after you’d ducked into the stall-sized bathroom and properly fixed yourself, untangled your hair and tied it back securely into a ponytail with the tie from your wrist. 
You laugh at him for it, push him out from behind and tell him to drop the high-schooler act. “Wait here,” he tells you, tries to close the door on you. He doesn’t hear you catch it, doesn’t turn back to see you following him up the stairs from a few steps behind. 
You’d wonder why he doesn’t hear your feet, but, if he’d just done to you what you did to him, your ears would probably still be ringing, all full and overwhelmed. 
“Charles!” Your Mom’s voice carries down the stairs just as his head appears on the second level. “You haven’t seen–” his ears blush bright red, head snapping back to you. Jesus, can we have some subtlety? “Oh,” your Mom laughs when she spots you a couple steps behind him. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
“Yeah,” you laugh. Charles can’t look at you, he stares right past. “We were fighting, isn’t that right, Charles?”
“Oh?” She chuckles. 
Charles’ eyes snap to you. He nods. “First rule of fight club, you know.”
Your tongue clicks against the roof of your mouth before you look back to your Mom. “What did you need, Mama?”
“Just wondering if you want a drink,” she says. 
“Only if you mix it strong,” you say, and your Mom is already setting off back towards the rest of the group on the top level. With silent understanding, you and he both fall back into your respective roles; the arrogant, fearless prick and the spoiled, bratty princess. It’s better this way. It’s better this way. 
“Well,” you chuckle, pat him on the shoulder as you move past him on the stairs. “Aren’t you just a blushing bride?”
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The anticipation in the air is palpable, all of you here in Ricky’s parents’ apartment–an added guest this year in sweet little Chiara. You’ve all watched the race here since before Charles could imagine this being his reality, the balcony providing a perfect overlook onto the iconic circuit. The sun bathes the track in golden rays, like even Mother Nature knows that it’s going to be a historic day. 
Excitement crackles like electricity, sparking from person to person, igniting contagious grins and animated chattering. Your heart flutters with a unique blend of nerves and exhilaration, Charles’ undying Monaco optimism seeking into even your most pessimistic veins. 
Antoine sets up his camera on the balcony, is interviewing half of you for Charles’ next YouTube video. You steal glances of your friends the entire time, feeling strangely sentimental about all the love in the room. On the sofa, Marta bounces Chiara on her knee, absentmindedly shakes a rattle in front of the infant, eyes watching the pre-race coverage on the television. Ricky, on the balcony, the first interviewee, beams with pride watching them. The guys all buzz with excitement, half of them glued to the TV, the other half carefully pulling tight the zip-ties on the now infamous banner, anxiously awaiting the start of the race. 
You watch from beside Marta as the national anthem plays. She tickles Chiara’s feet, pulls little giggles from the baby’s lips. Your focus remains on Charles, though, his face on the screen. You don’t know how many laps you’ve seen him drive around this country, how many ups and downs he navigated in this sport, but you know that today feels different. You can see it etched into his features, the fire in his eyes and the resurgence in his confidence since Baku. It’s like he knows today is his day, that nothing can stand in the way, that the sun will shine on him and the champagne will spray. 
The engines roar to life, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. You move to the balcony, can’t bear to watch the start from a screen, knowing that it’s one of the most crucial parts of the next seventy-eight laps. Your heart pounds in sync with the rhythmic revving of the cars, and the world around you falls away as you focus on the starting grid. The lights illuminate, they're out, and the race is on. 
Charles makes a picture perfect start, no. It’s better than that, better, because the crowd roars louder than you think you’ve ever heard as he catapults himself past Max and into the lead, and your breath catches in your throat.
He’s in control, navigating every corner and chicane with precision, never once giving into the pressure of the bullet behind him. Max tries, he tries and tries, to close in on Charles, but he holds him, defends his position with skill and tenacity that makes you attracted to a helmet, to the mind it protects. 
With each passing lap, you expect the crowd to die down, but they don’t. You find yourself rallying with your friends, joining into the country-wide chorus of voices and cheers. Every maneuver, ever inch he gains on Max, fills you with excitement and awe. He’s like a force of nature, a breathtaking sight. 
The laps wind down, and his lead over Max grows. You can’t help but let out a joyful whoop. He’s doing it. This is the day he shuts everyone up about the curse. Yesterday is the last day you get to tease him about it. The realization washes over you that he’s going to win at home, and your heart swells with pride.
The final lap approaches, and you hold your breath, moving inside, to watch the screen, to stare like your glare could will him to find an extra tenth. As he takes the checkered flag, a deafening roar erupts, reverberating through the streets. 
Your friends join in a celebration, hugging and cheering as if you’re the ones standing on the podium. Antoine is giddy behind his camera, and you’re sure half the footage will be unusable with shaky hands. 
You found pause in the celebrations to watch him get out of the car, all arms swinging and firsts clenched. He stands on the halo of his car, pointing to the Ferrar emblem on his chest, over his heart. He jumps off and moves to congratulate Esteban, only to be met with a hug from the other driver. Max joins them quickly, strong handshakes and hard pats on the back before any of them are taking their helmets off. 
David Coulthard is waiting for him. Charles makes him wait, gets his bracelets and his watch from Andrea before picking up his microphone. “Charles, congratulations on your stunning victory! How are you feeling right now?” Your fingers find your lips, cover your smile and laugh. Charles has no idea how he feels. 
“Thank you!” He grins, all young and dimpled, purely pure. If you didn’t know better, you’d think a giddy first-grader had just won the biggest race in the world. “I don’t know,” he laughs. “It’s just… wow. I’m on top of the world right now, to be honest.”
He looks so tired and yet so, so full of life. Like the adrenaline is the only thing keeping him up, all sweaty hair and balaclava lines. You want to kiss him, to trail your fingers along every indent in his skin. “You led the race from start to finish, and it was quite a battle with Max. Tell us about your strategy and how you managed to hold that lead.”
“It was definitely not an easy race,” he says, still smiling. You’re shocked he hasn’t lost his English yet, he always does when he gets over excited. “Max is a great driver and I knew he would not make it easy for me. Our strategy was to be aggressive from the start. I tried to manage my tyres. I think it all paid off in the end.”
“Your victory today makes you the first Monegasque driver to win the Monaco Grand Prix since Louis Chiron in 1931. How does it feel to be a part of this historic moment?”
“It’s a tremendous honor. Louis is an inspiration to all Monegasque drivers, to follow his footsteps is truly special.”
“Fantastic, thank you, Charles. Congratulations.”
“Thank you, thank you!” He says, holds up a thumbs up as he walks away and winks. Well, he tried to wink. The inability to do so might be the least suave thing about him. 
The screen transitions to the cool-down room, to Max talking Esteban’s ear off, lighting up with a smile when Charles enters. The camera focuses on Charles in the corner, setting his helmet and his towel down on the table in front of his name, drinking an entire water bottle in two gulps, opening another and taking up a conversation with the others. 
Joris snaps a finger in front of your face. “Sorry, what?” You ask, eyes snapping to him.
“I asked if you want champagne?” he chuckles. 
“Oh,” you smile. “Yeah. Thanks.”
When you look back, they’ve already cut to the empty podium, announcing Esteban’s third place finish to a loud applause. He celebrates like he won the thing, which you admire. Next is Max, who is met with applause, but it's noticeably less than the roar that follows when Charles’ name is announced. 
The room around you is half as loud as the rest of the country, laughing and screaming wild for Charles. Jo and Ricky pop open Champagne bottles on the balcony, send the corks flying to God only knows where, hastily filling up the glasses beside them and passing them out. 
Even from blocks away, where he is just a red dot, where your friends arms are over your shoulder sipping champagne and humming along with the national anthem, you feel a strange connection to him, something beyond the bickering and annoyance. Something beyond the sex, maybe. Something just… something happy, or proud, or just plain soft, maybe. Soft like his smile while he gets drenched in Champagne by the two others on the podium. 
(six hours later) 
Joris’ knowing glances didn’t escape your notice, and it made you uneasy. You wondered if Charles was crass enough, if he has been sharing secrets about your little arrangement. The thought of it sends a shiver down your spin. The idea of anyone glimpsing into the tangled web that is you and Charles now made you feel vulnerable and exposed. 
You sipped your drink, trying to focus on the chatter around you, but your mind just keeps looping back to him. His laughter, his smile. His very presence seems to pull on you, and it doesn’t help that you know he feels the same way, that he has for weeks now. You quickly brush away the thought each time, unwilling to entertain the idea of anything beyond the surface of your friendship. 
“You seem a bit distant tonight,” Jo remarked, voice pulling you back to the present. 
You force a smile, hope he won’t detect the unease that drenches your demeanor. “Just a bit tired, I suppose,” you replied casually, averting his gaze, staring into the bottom of your glass as you spun the clear liquor around. 
He didn’t push further, but the look on his face tells you he sees right through you, makes you feel that much more exposed. You take a deep breath, attempt to steady yourself, but the questions linger like shadows in the back of your mind. 
The night wears on, and Charles wears your eyes, a near constant sightline from you to him. It was easy to steal glances when he looks like that, when his easy charm and infectious laughter draws everyone in. 
You don’t dare confront the truth, not here, not now. It was easier to stay in the safe confines of what you knew, what you’d established, emotions locked away in a heart-shaped locket hung round your neck. 
The party shows no signs of winding down, and you need air. You slip away from the group, out the back door to the curb where all the smokers hide. You found yourself drawn to the quiet of it, where it was just you, your thoughts, and the smell of tobacco. 
With the distant laughter and celebrations faded into the night, you allow yourself to be candid, to admit the truth, if only to yourself. There was a part of you that yearned for something more, a part of you that longed to explore what might be with him. 
But he was right. You are afraid, you are. Afraid of what it means to let your guard down, to open up to the unknown. The vulnerability that comes with the admission is daunting, shit straight from a horror movie, like a trap. You were standing on a cliff, a dangerous precipice that threatened to unravel everything you’d sloppily built. This life is held together with bubblegum and toothpicks, it can’t stand the shake. 
So, as you stood there on the back step, you made a silent promise to yourself. A promise to stay safe, to guard your heart and keep your feelings hidden from him, from everyone. 
You returned to the party, unable to fully shake the weight of what gnawed on you. The cocktail of emotions was overwhelming, and you found solace in the bottom of a glass. Joris egged you on, kept the shots coming, and Marta made it more fun. 
However, as the alcohol flowed freely, your tipsiness quickly spiraled into something more intense. With each drink, your inhibitions crumbled into a reckless pursuit of distraction. Each shot pushed the turmoil down further. 
Marta slowed down first, opting to be cautious on her first “big night out” since having the baby. She could focus on the company and the laughter you feared. Joris started sober, too, tried to keep an eye on you the best he could, but you were determined to lose yourself to the moment. 
The music thumped loudly, and the energy of the party was infectious. You danced with wild abandon, uncaring of the curious glances and amused whispers that followed. The alcohol had stripped back any reservations, leaving behind a version of yourself you barely recognize, all carefree and daring and reckless. 
Jo tried to reason with you, to suggest you call it an early night, but you were having none of it. “I’m fine, really,” you insisted, slurring your words slightly. “Let’s do another shot!”
He reluctantly agreed, but the more you drank, the more erratic your behavior became. You danced with strangers, laughed loud and flirted shamelessly, trying to fill the void with temporary connections. Amidst the sea of bodies, you caught the eye of a handsome stranger. He was tall, with dark brown hair and a mischievous glint in his eye that instantly intrigued you. He moved with confident grace, and you were like a moth to a flame. 
He made his way toward you, playful smirk on his lips. “I couldn’t help but notice you across the room,” he said, voice low and alluring. 
You laughed, feeling the effects of alcohol emboldening you. “Oh, really? And what is it that caught your attention?”
He leaned in, his breath brushing against your ear as he mumbled, “Your smile. It’s as captivating as the stars.”
You blushed at his compliment, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you. “Smooth talker, huh?” you teased, trying to keep up the playful banter. 
He chuckled, his finger lightly grazing the small of your back. “Only when I’m in the presence of someone this beautiful.”
You grinned, enjoying the flirtatious exchange. “You know how to flatter a girl,” you replied, heart racing at his touch. 
He leaned in even closer, the proximity between you sending sparks flying. “I can be even more convincing,” he said, voice low and seductive. 
You raised an eyebrow, playfully challenging him. “Is that so?”
He smirked, gaze never leaving yours. “Oh, absolutely,” he replied. “But you’ll have to let me prove it.”
A thrill coursed through you as the chemistry between the two of you intensified. You were well aware it was just a fleeting moment, a casual flirtation in the middle of a wild night out. But something about this stranger has ignited a spark in you, and you found yourself tempted to play along. 
The two of you danced together, the electric energy between you creating an intoxicating allure. His hands traced patterns along your waist. You get lost in the moment, in the music, in the touch of a stranger. 
“You wanna get out of here?” He asked, and you laughed. 
“No,” you replied, and abandoned your spot with him before he could protest any further. 
At some point, you stumbled outside for fresh air, feeling the world spin around you. The cool night air did little to sober you up, and instead, it only dueled your recklessness. You leaned against the railing, teetering on the edge between exhilaration and oblivion. 
Joris found you there, concern etched on his face. He calls your name, “Maybe we should call it a night. You’ve had enough.”
But you shook your head defiantly, a stubborn gleam in your eyes. “I’m not done yet,” you slurred. “I want more.”
He sighed like he knew it was pointless to attempt to reason with you like this, made you promise to stay put, told you he was off to get you another drink and he would be right back. 
As he left for your promised drink, you found yourself swaying in your shoes, the world around you still spinning. You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to gain some composure, but the liquor is taking it’s toll. When the door opened, you opened your eyes again, met with Joris–no drink, but with Charles in tow. 
You laughed. “Hey, Charles,” you slurred, grabbing onto his arm for support. 
He looked down at you, a mix of surprise and annoyance crossing his features. “Are you alright?” he asked, glancing around as if someone would magically appear to care for you. 
You ignored his question. “I want you to dance with me,” you demanded, tugging on the sleeve of his sweatshirt. 
He frowned, clearly not thrilled by the idea. “You’re drunk. Maybe you should sit down and take it easy,” he suggested, trying to lead you back inside, no doubt in the direction of a chair. 
“No,” you pouted. “I want to dance.” You didn’t care that you looked like a mess, or that your coordination was shot. All you wanted was to forget, to lose yourself in the music and the movement. 
Charles sighed, clearly exasperated, but let you tug him all the way back inside to dance. He keeps a cautious distance, as if he was worried you might fall over at any moment, which, granted. You very well might. You swayed and you twirled, laughing without regard for how ridiculous you looked. 
As the music pulsed through you, you were suddenly stuck with severe guilt. You were angry at yourself for getting so drunk, for losing control like this. You were mad at him, too, annoyed by his incessant need to attempt to care for you, for never just letting you be. And yet, at the same time, you were so drawn to him and his soft eyes, to the concern and frustration and the way he cared about you even when you pushed him away. 
The song changed. Something slower, more sensual. You dance closer to him and he hesitates, clearly unsure of what to do. You laugh, wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. You could feel his heart racing, his body tense with restraint. 
“We shouldn’t…” he started to protest, but you silenced him with a kiss. It was messy and desperate, per usual, fueled by alcohol and unspoken emotions. He hesitates for just a moment before giving in, his hands finding their way to your waist. 
You pulled away breathless, looked up at him all defiant and bratty. “I don’t need you to take care of me,” you whisper, and it comes out far more vulnerable than you intended, all squeaky and cracked. “I can handle myself.”
He looked torn, his usual composure slipping momentarily, before reverting to his usual ways.  “Someone fucking has to,” he finally spoke. 
You wanted to protest, to push him away, but the words all get stuck in your throat. Instead, you lean in to kiss him again, fingers tanging into his hair. In this moment, you wanted nothing more than to forget it all, to lose yourself in him and the way he made you feel. “Thank you for dancing with me.”
“Can’t believe I got your sloppy seconds,” he quips.
“What?”
“The guy who tried to take you home earlier,” he laughed. “Looked like a prick.”
“Oh,” you laughed. “Him.”
“Yeah, you really hit it off with him, didn’t you?” Charles said with a hint of sarcasm. You struggled to read if he was joking or if he was just barely keeping his irritation in check. 
You grinned, words still slurring. “Oh, you’re just jealous.” you shot back at him, leaning closer. 
“Please,” he scoffed. “Like I could ever be jealous of that guy.”
“You’re right,” you laughed, your body pressing against his as you stumbled slightly. “You just won the Monaco Grand Prix.”
The rest of the evening continues in much of the same way, with Charles having to play babysitter to a very drunk–and very handsy–you. He tried to keep his distance, to maintain some semblance of composure, but you made it hard constantly pulling him into your orbit. 
At some point, you find yourselves alone on a sofa, the noise around you fading somewhere far off. You were giggling about something, leaning your head on his shoulder. “You know,” you said, “this is all your fault.”
He quirked a brow. “My fault? How do you figure?”
You Smirked, reaching up to play with a strand of his hair. “You’re the one who got me all worked up with that kiss earlier,” you said, voice low and teasing. 
His cheeks burnt bright pink. “I didn’t do anything,” he said, a poor attempt at sounding casual. 
“Oh please, Charles. You know exactly what you’re doing,” you said, voice taking on a more serious tone. “You’re always doing this, pulling me in and then pushing me away.”
“You’re fucking with me, right?” He scoffs, turning his head to face you, knocking your head off his shoulder in the process. “You’re the one doing that.”
You feel a pang of guilt at his words. You know he’s right, that tonight is just the next night of you sending him mixed signals. It’s been going on like this for months, but you don’t know how to stop, how to untangle the mess. “I don’t mean to,” you say softly, defenses dropping for a moment. “It’s just… complicated.”
He nodded. “I know,” he speaks quietly. “It’s just hard. Trying to figure out where we stand.”
You sigh, running your hand through your hair. “I know. I do.” You sit in silence for a moment, the weight of your unspoken feelings hanging in the air. You wished you could say something, anything, to tell him how you feel, but all the words are stuck. Instead, you reach for his hand, intertwine your fingers and look up at him, big pupils in the dimly lit room. “I don’t want to ruin what we have,” you said softly, voice hardly above a whisper. 
“I don’t either,” he said, his thumb stoking your hand gently. 
The moment is interrupted by Joris, who appears from around the corner out of nowhere, looking half as annoyed as the two of you must. “There you two are,” he said, relief and irritation clouding his words. “It’s time to go,” he says, pointing directly to you. “You’ve had enough.”
You groaned, but you didn’t protest. You lean on Charles the whole walk to Joris’ car. 
As you arrived back at your apartment, he helped you inside and settled you into bed. He tucked you in, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Sleep well,” he whispered, voice soft and tender. 
You smile sleepily, reaching up to touch his cheek. “You too,” you murmured. He turns to leave, but before he could go, you grab his wrist, holding it tightly. “Stay,” you said, voice barely audible. 
He hesitates for a moment, you can feel it in the air even with your eyes closed, can feel his heart beating in his wrist. Eventually, though, he gives in, slides into bed beside you. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close, and you nuzzle into his chest, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. 
“You’re so warm,” you mumbled, words still pathetically sloshed. 
He chuckles softly, the annoyance in his eyes starting to fade. “Well, I am always warm,” he teased, trying to lighten the mood, to ease the awkwardness. 
You giggled, snuggling even closer to him. “You’re my human heater,” you said, voice filled with affection. 
As the minutes passed, you started to drift off to sleep, your breathing becoming slow and steady. You could see the struggle in his eyes as your lids grew heavier, the depth of care for you he tried so hard to hide. 
When you wake up in the middle of the night, hints of a sunrise beginning to push through the curtains, you find him still awake. He looked lost in thought, afraid, almost. Desperately, you wanted to reach out, to ask him what was wrong, but feared pushing him away more than anything. 
You settle against his chest, listen to the sound of his heart beating against your ear, feel yours match it. Finally, exhaustion catches up to him, his body relaxing as he drifts off to sleep. As you lay there, you can’t help your tired mind and it’s delusions of a future where you don’t have to hide your feelings, where you can be together openly and honestly, and then you’re falling back asleep yourself.
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