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stephaniebrownslover · 2 days

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HELLOOO <33333

Um can we ask weird things? If the answer is 'yes' then I want to ask what main characters do when that person who is very important for them got deadly injured and almost dying in front their eyes?? - Holy crap this be really angsty request-

(And yes in your main AU [I really loved this AU you've made it so well bro'])

(ALSO I WANT TO SAY I REALLY LOVE STEPHANIE SO SO MUCH TOO!!!!)

HIIIIIIIIII<33333333

Oh don't worry at all, it's not weird, it's just a regular angst scenario topic so you're absolutely fine, don't worry. I thought it would be something actually weird that I can't write so you can only imagine how much I relaxed after reading the rest.

I won't let seasonal allergies stop me from writing for you!

And yep that's very very angsty and we love angst in this house so that's fine.

BRO THANK YOU SO MUCH I really like this AU too even though I try to keep it simple. Thank you thank you thank you!!!!!

(STEPH STEPH STEPH WAAAAAA I LOVE HER SO SO MUCH EVEN I IF CAN'T READ COMICS ANYMORE STEPHHHHH MY LOVE IT'S REALLY NICE TO SEE AN ANOTHER STEPH FAN)

(Am I talking too much for introduction parts?)

Main Characters' reaction to someone loved's deadly wounds

-Jeff The Killer

If such a situation happens, Jeff will definitely lose his mind, which has already a little left. Let alone killing one of the few people in the world he considers worthy of caring for, no one has the right to open the slightest wound except himself. Even he has no right to such deep wounds.

He calmly holds the person standing in front of him and puts his ears against his chest so that he can hear his heartbeat. The moment he hears that faint heartbeat sound, he relaxes and tries to take the injured person on his arms and take them to the nearest person with medical knowledge. And along the way, he keeps saying that it's forbidden for that person to die.

He just doesn't want to lose another person he cares about. He doesn't want to feel another ghost's cold hands strangling him on his neck. And he's going to blame himself no matter what the situation is. Until there is news about that person, he will argue with the people who are taking care of them and gain even more hate, but as long as that person is with him, there is no problem.

Possible persons that he will give this reaction: Liu, Clockwork, Sally, Nina(?)

-Clockwork

She'll just freeze up because she can't understand what's going on. Although she is normally quite a cold-blooded person, she forgets what she should do in a panic because the sight in front of her causes cracks in her frozen heart.

However, she soon recovers herself and runs to that person. Without asking any questions or caring if their heart is still beating, she takes that person to the nearest medical doctor, even though Jack is her preference. She's so angry that she has to get it out of somewhere. But since her stress will dominate her, she waits by their side until the moment they're awake and leaves when they seem to open their eyes. If there is a funeral, she will not attend it and will pay as visit as soon as she gathers courage which will take weeks for her.

The grip of the past once again squeezes her heart. And this time in a more painful way than ever. It's all her fault for not being able to protect the one she loves. No. It's all the fault of the people who love her for making them an important person to her. No matter how painful it is, she will isolate herself because it is the only way she believes they will not be harmed any more.

Possible persons that she will give this reaction: Toby, Jeff, Nina, Zero

- Hoodie

As someone who has already faced the death of his loved ones and almost himself many times, he should be used to such situations, but he's not. No matter how many times it happens, he hasn't gotten used to this painful feeling, and he won't get used to it either. But because he is considered experienced, he knows what he has to do.

First, he will check the pulse of that person, and if it is still beating, he goes to one of the medics while applying some pressure to their wound. Since he called all three of them by phone or transceiver and informed them on the way, it would give them an opportunity to prepare. Along the way, he also tries to convince that person that there is no problem.

Although he wants to be with his business partner until they wake up, he first needs to give a report about what he saw. If that person wakes up, he will take a more careful attitude towards them in the tasks they go out together, because the memories that come before his eyes at any moment are already too painful. If they do not wake up, he visits their grave regularly, even though he buries a part of himself with him every time, he is likely to cry at the first one.

Possible persons that he will give this reaction: Tim, Toby(?)

-Masky

When he firstly sees that the person in front of him is so seriously injured, he runs to them and calmly asks what is going on while pressing on their wounds. He tries to act as coolly as possible, then goes to the nearest medical person, Ann by preference. During this time, he does not let that person down from his arms, nor does he try to talk to them in any other way.

He goes out often because he can't bear to stand next to that person while they're being treated, but he returns to that environment because he feels guilty, and such a vicious cycle occurs. He stands without saying a word, chain-smoking in the hope of reducing his tension. Tim is ready to do everything for the person takes care of his business partner's needs without opposing it for the first time.

In fact, although he looks very calm on the outside during the entire process, there is a literally devastating storm inside. His emotions are constantly at war, and when no one is looking, he can't control himself and makes fists out of his hands. Since he knows that he absolutely cannot bear to lose another person he will remember, he is ready to do anything so that the angel of death does not knock on that person's door. Even if it means destroying himself in the process.

Possible persons that he will give this reaction: Brian

-Ticci Toby

The moment Toby sees that sight, his tics triggered by elements such as fear and adrenaline will increase incredibly. Because of the look he sees in front of him, some of his past memories will come back before his eyes, and he will be even worse off, almost unable to do anything. If he is not alone, his partner does the work of taking care of that person, but if he is alone, he tries to collect himself.

Although he hates himself for staying so still, it's not easy for him to shake off the trauma of both the past and the present. As soon as he pulls himself together, he puts pressure on the wounds, calls one of the other people he trusts the most and lets them know. If no one answers the phone or radio call, he will screw everything and call the ambulance.

He can't lose another person. Another person he cares about can't close their eyes forever because of his incompetence. They're not allowed to leave him alone, so that person has to heal no matter what. And if they get well- no, when they get well Toby will never leave after them again. Because he can't bear to see another face he remembers dimly in the darkness that preys on his nightmares.

Possible persons that he will give this reaction: Natalie, Kate, Rouge, (Eyeless) Jack, Nina

-Eyeless Jack

Since he knows medicine and took care of people he has loved before, he should not worry about this situation. Okay, but then why do his hands shake every time he presses on the bleeding area? Why can't he keep his cool attitude? Why, why, why? He actually knows the reason for this. He knows, but he doesn't want to admit it to himself. He doesn't want to admit that he has a weakness others can use against him.

He tries to take care of their wound on his own and tries to do something using things like bandages, oxygenated water, sewing thread, which he usually carries in his backpack while walking in the forest, but when he realizes that this is not enough, he swears and takes that person on his back. He takes them on his back towards his own infirmary.

He'll let Ann and Smiley know, but he doesn't know why he's calling since he won't let them do anything when they come to his cabin. Eventually, Ann takes control and tells Jack to rest. Jack also waits for the result in a waiting chair with black tears pouring from his eyes. The most intense emotion he feels after sadness is disappointment and fear.

Possible persons that he will give this reaction: Toby, Sally, Kate

-Jane The Killer

When an injured person comes across, of course, she wants to help them, but when she sees who this person is, she suddenly pauses. She freezes inside her mind and can't do anything. She can only watch the landscape with tears in her eyes until she regains the ability to think again.

And when she becomes able to do something, she calls the ambulance, not caring about her money and things that should remain secret for government's sake. She can't lose the one she loves and she needs to save them. So she presses on the deepest wounds of that person until the ambulance arrives, and tries to keep her voice calm, stroking their hair. It's very important for that person to know that they will be saved, it's maybe for the injured person, maybe for Jane.

She can't afford to lose another person. Having become so strong, she cannot accept returning to the age of thirteen, when she is incapable of protecting her loved ones again. She needed to be a stronger person, she needed to be able to help her loved ones. She couldn't have devoted her whole life to nothing, she couldn't have. Whoever dares to harm the one she loves will taste the bitterest death at her hands.

Possible persons that she will give this reaction: Mary

-X-Virus

Cody is normally someone who is quite overcome by his emotions, and he is calm in the face of this incident in a way that he does not understand either. In fact, he feels as if someone else has taken over his body. He does a little first aid work with the help of his medical knowledge, which he knows more or less, and the painkillers he carries with him, as well as oxygenated water. He also informs the ambulance before starting to administer first aid.

Although he cares a lot about this person, he should disappear when the ambulance arrives. But during this process, he holds the person's hand and tells them to stay calm, that he will always watch over them even if he is not with them, and when they get better, he will help them escape. Since he sucks at this kind of calming stuff, he tries to do his best, but he proceeds with a solution-oriented approach.

He has never lost someone he loves because there was no one who really cared about him before. These feelings are very alien to him and he hates it. He is ready to dislocate his heart to destroy the painful feeling he feels in his heart. As long as se doesn't have to experience the terrible pain he feels all the time for others. Because he doesn't think he can stay as strong as others on this topic.

Possible persons that he will give this reaction: Toby, Ann

-Nina The Killer

She knows the pain of this because she has experienced a big loss before. She killed her parents when Zalgo controlled her to cause difficulty for Slenderman, and she suffered incredibly great emotional pain when she regained control just the moment where she plunged a knife into the heart of her dearest little brother Chris, and she still does. As a nurse who takes it upon herself to wipe the invisible bloodstains on her hands, she has knowledge of first aid, but when she sees this sight, she definitely can't help being shocked. Due to the job of a nurse, she has seen much worse, but none of them was someone she loved so much.

She knows what she has to do. She carries a spare bandage in her bag at all times and is able to wrap some of the wounds and give first aid. She tries to tear off pieces of her own clothes and treats the wounds with missing cloth, she also wants to call the hospital where she works. But later she remembers that this will put her own career at risk, and she calls anyway. An ambulance comes and picks up her injured loved one, while Nina is crying the whole way.

When they arrive at the hospital, her friends won't let her take care of them. She tries to be there for them but no matter what she does, her colleagues who really value her as a friend keep her away. She's absolutely incredibly remorseful, and she knows that when this person gets out, they'll be angry that she didn't take them to Jack or Ann or even Smiley. And her own career was ruined because she brought a killer and cried for them, but she doesn't care. As long as she doesn't lose anyone again. As long as the memory bracelet on her arm doesn't add a new bead.

Possible persons that she will give this reaction: Kate, Clockwork, Toby, Jeff, Sally

-Kate The Chaser

Kate has a lot of experience in this situation. She was also very seriously injured herself and worried other people. Nevertheless, she is angry with herself for not being able to stop her heart from being filled with fear. She runs to that person, puts her unmasked face close to their face and tries to reassure them that they will be fine. After calling all the medics and informing them, she applies a small-scale bandage operation with her clothes.

After deciding that they are better, she takes that person on her arms, regardless of their weight, and takes them to the nearest medical person. If they say that they can't do anything, that it's too late, she threatens them, and if they don't agree again, she'll leave the forest and call the ambulance. She will not allow even the person she allowed herself to love to die. No matter what the cost is.

And during the whole process of taking care of this wound, she gives scary looks and stands next to this person. She's not allowed to sleep or rest until she's sure that they're okay. She had lost her own life before, but thanks to this person, she has a life again, and she will not allow them to lose their own. Even if that person dies, Slenderman will bring them back to life because he wants his best proxy not to disrupt his duties, but Kate knows that this is not the same thing, so she is still trying to make that person live. She's not ready to lose that person and she never will be.

Possible persons that she will give this reaction: Nina, Toby, Rouge(?)

I think I get the request wrong

Also I don't know why Nina's part is always the longest even though she's not my fave, it's Clockwork.

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luna-andra · 2 days

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The Shadows Return | Simon 'Ghost' Riley x OC Retired AU | Chapter 8: Compromise

Summary: Andra wants answers, and Ghost has to choose

Word Count: 6.5k

If this is the first time you're seeing this, Chapter 1 is here. You can find the rest on my masterlist!

Content: slow burn, eventual smut, 18+, fluff, mentions of mental health, mild violence

The clouds on the way home were overcast across the afternoon sky. Johnny left Andra with several things to think over, bringing her back to a familiar train of thought from five years ago.

He gave her the same look that stirred shame in her belly. She didn’t like being on a different level of rationality – or lack thereof – with the people once close to her.

It was declared by the officer that showed up there was no indication of foul play. The possibility of an incompetent and inconvenienced officer being sent to her call was in the forefront of her mind, and also the possibility of any traces of someone’s presence could have been washed away from the thunderstorm by the time they came out to investigate. The whole process of filing the report gave her no peace of mind, but she took the advice of setting up surveillance seriously.

A precautionary that she should have done ages ago.

The quiet, quaint life out on the farm had soothed her troubled worries all of these years, making her forget for a moment what it was like to live looking over her shoulder every moment. She wasn’t naïve, no, she knew how to take care of herself when the seldom case of harassment arose. Andra should have never gotten so comfortable the way she did.

Her foot pressed down heavily on the brake pedal as she waited at a stop light to rub the exhaustion from her eyes. She was just a few more turns from home, she reminded herself. The caffeine she had ingested all throughout the morning was threatening a big crash.

Andra drove slowly down Middleton Lane as she spotted the first right turn to the private dirt road of Ghost’s property. Then her truck came to a full stop. You know what-

Her hand turned the wheel right as her tires skid around the corner.

Andra didn’t know what she was doing, or what she would exactly say to him, but she needed to know what was going through his head.

Andra parked behind his truck and turned the key out of the ignition. She paused for a few seconds to take a breath and gather at least the first sentence that would come out of her mouth.

Her phone vibrated.

I’m in the garage.

Of course Ghost knew Andra had arrived, another sign that she definitely needed to do the same thing to her property. Cameras and motion sensors.

She shut the door behind her as she made her way to the garage off to the right of his house. One of the metal double doors was left cracked open, and she could hear the metal clink of a tool being put down.

The garage was Ghost’s own personal auto shop, with an incomplete classic-looking car taking up majority of the left. The wall was lined with tool boxes, yard tools, and almost a pallet’s worth of army green ammo cans. To the right, a rudimentary gym setup took up another portion of space, with a bench press, a high pull-up bar, seemingly crafted and welded together amateurly, and a rack of assorting dumbbells and plates to complete it all.

Ghost was hunched over the open hood of the car, one hand on the lip of the hood as he kept his attention on whatever he had been working on before Andra’s unannounced arrival.

“Is this your way of letting me know that you’re pushing me away again?” Andra sharply said to the backside of Ghost.

Ghost tossed a tool onto the toolbox on his left side and retrieved a rag, wiping grease from his stained hands. His muscles tensed in his back as he turned to Andra’s direction. “Today has been a really tense day. I wanted to give you some space to come down from last night.”

Andra clenched her jaw. “I don’t need space, I need answers. I feel like I’ve been kept in the dark about something I have no control over.”

“That’s because you don’t.”

She could feel her blood simmering already. Not how she wanted this to go. “I don’t because you never gave me the choice to take control.” Andra couldn’t recognize the person she was talking to. His stare was cold and dark. If his goal was to anger her into cutting her losses with him, it wasn’t going to work. “You didn’t tell me anything because we lost touch the first time, fine, I get it. But you went ahead and told Johnny? That’s what I can’t get passed.”

Ghost trudged out of the garage with Andra following behind him. “He and I had an eye on things. We had it under our thumbs.”

Andra tossed her hands up. “Had what exactly?” Her voice echoed all around them. “What the hell is going on with you?”

He turned back to her, stopping her in her tracks before bumping right into him. Ghost peered down to her, his eyes burning the same heat. “What do you want from me? You want me to take back what I did?”

Her fists clenched hard enough for her nails to dig into her palm. “No, I just want you to stop being such a hard ass and talk to me.” Her carotid artery strained against the muscles in her neck. “Tell me what you think is going on and we’ll deal with it together.”

He flinched as if her hand flew across his face.

“You keep acting like you’re looking for an excuse to push me away, for an excuse to leave.” Andra’s chest rose and fell with a heavy rhythm. “You act as if one morning I’ll wake up and you won’t be here, and you’ll just be a memory for me.”

His eyes squeezed shut as his own breath left him.

“You’ve thought about it, haven’t you? Leaving without another word, taking your shadows with you.” There was a shiver in her voice.

“I have.” Ghost finally answered. “I could leave in a moment’s notice. I’ve done it before.”

Andra didn’t doubt him. She had done it herself, she knew how easy it was to pack a couple of bags and leave. “What’s stopping you this time?”

Ghost opened his eyes to meet hers.

She scoffed and turned away from his silent response. The wind picked up and wisps of her hair flew around her face. She had to squint her eyes at the unbearable overcast sunlight. “I was able to forgive you for cutting me off the first time. I shook it off because there was no expectation for you to keep in contact after fixing my truck. Then you came back, and I thought you wanted me in your life, and maybe we even had something. Cool. Great, even.

“But when you brought up the transpiring events, the person driving up our street and telling me there have been people on my property?” She shook her head. “You think you’re handling this on your own but you’re not. I won’t let you. Either you let me know what’s going on, or you’ve lost my trust.”

His eyes were unreadable when she saw him once more.

Andra reached into her pocket and flipped her keys into her palm, the key ring sitting on her index finger as she clenched them tight. “I’ll see you around, Ghost. If you figure out what you want to do, you know where to find me.”

The screen door smacked the side of the house harder than it should. Andra wasn’t paying attention. Her face still felt hot with anger. Sammy darted outside for her chance to do what she does, leaving her alone in the house.

The air felt thick, charged with energy that wasn’t there when she woke up the morning before. Or maybe it was her mind messing with her. Either way, her house felt compromised.

The tears collected in her eyes out of nowhere, and she quickly wiped them away. This is stupid. She felt ridiculous for letting it get to her. For letting a shattered window re-surface the fear that drove her away to another country.

This was all going to blow over. The tracks in the woods were a random coincidence, the car meant nothing. And the rock flying into her window was just a freakish feat of nature. She’s witnessed some heavy storms in the countryside in her years of living here. It wouldn’t be the first time something has sustained damage on her property, and it was bound to happen again.

“Be kind to yourself.” Andra whispered to herself as she kicked her shoes off, remembering what she was taught in therapy and from self-help reading. However, being kind to herself was proving difficult with the lingering anger from talking to Ghost.

The nerve of him.

But also, the nerve of her. She felt the weight of her corrosive past. An affliction, threatening to dismantle the life she had built. It had to be irrational, she was no one. She wasn’t worth being tracked down, right? That’s the rhetoric she kept force feeding herself. They had succeeded in getting rid of her, she made sure of it. At this point, if anyone wanted to pursue in finishing the job, she would end up burning a hole in their dirty wallets.

And if Ghost was going to play the need-to-know card, two can play that game.

She stopped in her tracks as she walked into the kitchen, catching a glimpse of the black trash bag covering her window. It crinkled and swayed inward and outward with the passing wind. The ever-growing chasm in her chest was making itself comfortable, and she couldn’t stand it.

-----

Ghost knew Johnny would stop calling after the second time he reached his voicemail. The third call in a row told him that he better answer the phone. His heavy hand reached out to the nightstand for his phone, swiped his thumb across the screen and pressed it against his ear, eyes closed. “Yes, sir.”

“You broken, Simon?”

Price’s gravelly voice came through the speaker on his phone, and it was like a splash of cold water on him. It was a question he was familiar with Price asking, except he’s no longer checking for missing limbs or hemorrhaging blood loss. Ghost sat up on the edge of his mattress and rubbed the exhaustion from his eyes. “M’solid.”

“When’s the last time you got a full eight hours of sleep?” Price asked.

Ghost took a quick glance at the time on his phone before returning the receiver to his ear. “I was getting’ rest before you woke me up.” He was only asleep for two hours, and his pounding head reminded him that it had been a restless 72 hours.

Price doesn’t reach out very often. The captain – along with the other lads – will dedicate an amount of time out of the year to catch up with the former task force in person. It was an annual event of spending the holidays doing anything but celebrating Christmas and New Years. When he hears from Price before November, it’s because he’s been tipped off on Ghost’s concerning behavior.

“Soap tells me you’re acting barmy, you think you’re being followed, son?”

There it was.

Ghost didn’t respond for a few beats, his feet felt like lead against the cold wooden floor. “A couple of events transpired, would put you on edge, too.”

He could hear a deep sigh come from the other end of the line, and it had Ghost clench his jaw. “Get yourself to an appointment or a meeting, or I’ll bring the meeting to you.”

Price’s demand sent a wave of guilt and shame through Ghost. The memories of being pulled up off the living room floor and thrown into his tub flashed behind his heavy eyelids. Price, Johnny and Gaz showed up. Ghost reeked of alcohol and piss. They had him hauling bags of sand back and forth from his backyard to the range on his property for several hours, making him sweat and puke the remains of alcohol in his system.

“I’m still sober.” Ghost gritted his teeth. He made Ghost sound like an addict.

Price clipped his words, “See your doctor, and get out of bed for a sweat.”

Ghost opened his eyes to the void of his darkened room and sighed. “I’ll set up an appointment today.”

“Good lad.” Beep-beep-beep went the line as Price disconnected the call.

Sleep had eluded Ghost once more. He sat there at the edge of his bed and rolled his neck, failing to relax the knotted muscles at the base of his neck. His eyes burned, and his headache pressed down on every surface of his skull. He felt an irritation for Price waking him up, but rationality told him it wasn’t his fault.

Since sleep was out of the question, Ghost stood up and peered out the bedroom window. The sun wasn’t due to come up for another couple of hours, but he insisted to listen to Price’s advice. Get a workout in, then when the office opened, call doc to get that appointment.

His feet were heavy as he shuffled to the bathroom. Ghost always looked down to the basin of the sink before turning on the lights, avoiding the reflection staring back at him. He watched as his hands gripped the edge of the counter. Scars littered his knuckles, the skin over bone splitting open too many times for him to count.

It was when he was sick of looking at the reminders of his violence when he slipped and the person he hated stared back with cold, dead eyes.

You’ve tried killing me so many times, but fail every single time. You need me. You need the mask. You need it to hide so there’s never a chance to hurt again. You don’t deserve her. You try and pretend to be someone worthy of a teaspoon of affection, but you’re not what she needs. You’re filthy. You’re-

The glass shattered against his fist as he struck as quick as an asp. He hissed between clenched teeth, cursing as the reached for a towel and covered his bleeding knuckles.

If one thing was for certain, his reflection was right.

He didn’t deserve her.

-----

Andra flipped closed the back end of the book and placed it on her blanket covered lap to rub her tired eyes. Every night she would read The Operators when it was evident she wouldn’t be getting peaceful rest, or when something had her jolting awake. She had no clue how many hours she had slept in the past couple of days; definitely not enough to keep her from loading up on caffeine and making her debate breaking her years of being nicotine-free.

She could hear the roosting of her birds out in the coop. Andra leaned her head back against the headboard and sighed. There wouldn’t be time to try and fall asleep. Her day had to start.

After the morning chores, Andra headed inside for another cup of coffee. She stared out of her newly replaced window, out into the distance. It was hard not to; it was as if something – or someone – was going to come storming out from the brush and trees. All remained quiescent in those groves, as logic would have it.

The rattling sound of her plastic phone case vibrating against the countertop broke her focus. She swiped her finger across the screen and pressed the speaker button. “What’s up, Johnny?”

“I need to ask a favor.”

His voice was hushed and the words were muddled like he had the phone pressed against his mouth, and she could hear the workings of the auto shop in the background.

“I need you to go check on Ghost for me, he called out of work this morning.”

Andra felt her chest and throat tighten all at the same time. Johnny wasn’t aware of the fallout between her and Ghost from the sound of it. Or if he did, he must be extremely concerned for Ghost’s silence. I figured he would be used to it by now… she thought bitterly. “You need me to go immediately?”

“Take yer time, a mate of ours reached him this mornin’. Just pop over there when you get a chance. Gotta go, text me.”

The line went dead before Andra could say bye. She released a heavy sigh after taking her first sip, her fingers tapped against the countertop as apprehension churned in her gut.

Maybe Ghost took their last conversation as motivation for him to actually leave.

Tears pricked in the corner of her eyes, and she rubbed them away with her thumb and index finger, pushing her fingers together to pinch the bridge of her nose. She didn’t want their relationship – friendship – whatever they had, to end on that note. Fuck, I messed up.

She took a deep breath to regain composure. You don’t know if he’s gone. Andra decided she would go by after her run to the post office to pick up her package. With a quick rinse of her empty coffee mug, she headed to the front door to collect her keys and purse.

The sound of gravel crunching and a vehicle engine made her pause in her tracks. Her heart raced, she could feel her adrenaline dump. Her shaky hand moved aside the curtain to look out the window beside the door, and the sight of Ghost’s truck had her releasing a heavy breath.

It took everything in her not to throw the door open and run to him. She took another grounding breath and unlocked the door, opening it to Ghost preparing to knock.

Andra swore her heart was going to burst. The look in his eyes mirrored the same surprise she displayed. The discernible presence of a bandage wrapped around Ghost’s hand caught her attention in the corner of her eye.

He noticed where her eyes fell to, and shoved it in the pocket of his jacket. “You got a minute to speak?”

His voice sounded like sandpaper. He looked just as sleep deprived as she felt. Andra couldn’t say anything, so she just nodded. She closed the door behind her and opted to sit on the wooden bench, leaving a space for Ghost to sit beside her. He never did, instead he decided to lean against the railing, his ankle crossed over the other.

Seconds passed before anything was said. “I’m not good with words, you’ll have to bear with me.”

Andra folded her legs beneath her and clasped her hands together. Her eyes remained on him as she waited to hear him out.

His head tilted down. “I gave a lot of thought to what you said, about losing your trust.” He rolled his neck, rolling the nerves and giving him a chance to think. “And I realized, taking a bullet is far less painful than that.”

Andra could see his adam’s apple bob in his throat underneath the fabric of his mask as he tilted his head back with closed eyes. She felt her throat tightening, and had to swallow to relieve the ache.

“So, I’ve come to terms with if I want to mend what I had with you, I’m going to have to find a way to tell you what you need to know.” Ghost’s eyes found hers, searching for a response.

She gave him a subtle nod, letting the words sink in. “How are you going to do that?”

Ghost uncrossed his ankles and took the two steps to sit beside her. It was a struggling few seconds for him to begin speaking. “Did you ever pick that book back up?”

Andra was confused by the approach he was taking, but went with it. “Yeah, I finished it actually.”

"Did the author talk about some of his assignments?" Ghost asked patiently.

She recalled what the author was able to talk about and reveal. "Not specifics, but he went in detail with Selection, and then the training thereafter and some events that happened in the 80s in Northern Ireland."

He nodded as he listened. "What did the training entail?"

"Physical training, a lot of sleep deprivation, weapons and vehicle tactics, photography, interrogation..." Andra's words drifted as she continued her recollection. She wouldn't say this out loud, but it was a dry read.

Ghost cut in at the mention of the last topic. "Interrogation, okay." His shoulders rose and fell as he let out a deep breath, and his hands flexed over and over. "I've been on both ends of being interrogated. Not just in training, but out on the field." His red-rimmed eyes aged several decades, and her chest grew heavy. "And there were times the bars and stars – officers that outranked me and my team – had ordered us to let go of the person we had just roughed up.

"They were dangerous people, Andra, do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

Andra was piecing together why Ghost had given her that book to read. It was more than just what was on the surface. The selection process, the training, the assignments, the images in the book illustrating the teams with black lines redacting their eyes. It occurred to her then when she was reading it all, Ghost was another one of the SAS operatives that had an alias, he had paperwork with his name on it that contained redacted information on what he and his team had accomplished, but now discussing it all solidified it for her.

Not only him, but Johnny as well, and Johnny had brought up a few other names. People that were also special forces.

It was sobering. She never took the time to sit with all of this information and come to terms that these men had enemies that went deeper than just being from differing nations. Enemies that may or may not still be alive out there, preying on the downfall of the men she had come to know.

“Has anyone ever found you or Johnny?” Andra asked with a tremble in her throat.

“No.” He answered definitively. “And I would like to keep it that way.”

Andra nodded, as she fully agreed with him.

Ghost leaned back against the bench. “I truly never intended to alarm you and bring you to endless conclusions. I wish I could take it back, my foolishness, everything.”

“You can’t help that, though.” Andra defended. “It was a really messed up chain of events.”

There was a pregnant pause. “I have moments like these when there are too many coincidences happening at once. I’ve been working on how I handle it.”

Andra turned to him. “Do you… talk to someone about it?” She felt hesitant to ask.

Ghost’s eyes slid back to her. “Does that bother you?”

She shook her head swiftly. “No, oh Gods, no I didn’t mean it that way.” Her hands covered her face for a moment. “That was wrong of me to ask.”

Ghost reached for one of her hands. “You have every right to know, doll.” The calloused pad of his thumb brushed the top of her hand. She could feel a tremor in his touch.

It would have warmed her heart had it not been for the churning contrite souring her stomach. He had every right to know, too, but how would she even begin to tell him?

His injured hand was holding hers. She took this opportunity to distract herself from the guilt eating at her. “What happened to your hand?”

“Ridiculous accident with some glass.” He answered too quickly. Andra could feel him wanting to recoil, but he continued to let her hold his hand. Her peripheral vision gave her a peak of Ghost studying her face. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look exhausted.”

Andra let go of his hand and rubbed her eyes. “I really haven’t been sleeping. Every little noise wakes me up, and I lay there for hours.”

Ghost’s eyes turned serious. “What can I do to remedy that?” Andra started to shake her head. “No, I’m responsible for this. Name it, I’ll do what I can.”

“I was actually on my way to go pick up a security system I ordered from the post office.” Andra raised her hand with her set of keys jingling.

Ghost stood from the bench, Andra followed in suit. “That I can do.”

Her smile returned. If it was one thing Andra was certain about Ghost, acts of service was how he communicated his apologies. It was easier to demonstrate with his hands than words.

After picking up the hefty box of camera and motion sensor equipment, Andra worked around the farm after her and Ghost discussed where the best places to set up the cameras would be. He got it done in less than a few hours, giving them time to pick up food together.

As they traveled, she remembered Johnny was waiting for an update from her.

Ghost is fine, we’re picking up food.

“So, you read the book in the past three days?” Ghost asked to start up chatter. Look who’s talking more now.

She hummed. “I read when I can’t sleep, and found it sitting there on the table before I locked up for bed.” Andra glanced at him. “What do you do when you can’t sleep?” Her phone vibrated with a response.

Thank you.

Ghost shrugged. “I lay there hoping I fall asleep.”

“I would get so bored.” Andra confessed, tapping her hands on her thighs. “You don’t even scroll through Netflix or something to try and turn your brain off?”

“I don’t have Netflix.” He responded.

Andra shook her head and blinked. “Remind me to give you my login.”

“I don’t watch TV or movies.”

Now she was looking at him like he was crazy. “You’re lying. You’re a liar.”

He rolled his eyes. “I do watch movies, but they’re all old war movies or westerns on DVD.”

Andra narrowed her eyes. “What are you, fifty?”

Ghost chortled. “I have a while before I hit fifty, thank you for that.”

“How long is a while?” Andra smirked. “Five years or six months?” His mouth opened, but she kept going. “Wait, I bet you have M.A.S.H. all on DVD, don’t you?”

“There’s nothing wrong with M.A.S.H.” Ghost defended.

“Yeah, when you’re as old as my dad and watching it on your days off as you doze on the living room couch at eleven in the morning.”

“You’re pushing your luck, doll.” Ghost warned with a grin in his voice. “Let me put it this way, I joined the Royal Air Force after the events of 9/11.”

Andra’s face went slack and her eyes were as wide as saucers. She turned to the passenger window with a hand pretending to scratch the side of her head and wondered if he would be weirded out if she told him she was in grade school during 9/11.

Her silence was loud in the cabin. “We’re not that far apart in age if you know M.A.S.H.” Ghost resumed.

Andra raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you saying I look old?”

“No.” His accent thickened as his voice dropped. “I didn’t say that.”

She was having too much fun busting his chops. “We have a tad bit of an age gap,” she demonstrated with her thumb and index finger with a small gap, “I’m a ninety’s baby.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Three years is a tad of an age gap, not a whole decade.”

Andra rolled her eyes. “Is this what I have to look forward to in my thirties?” She laughed at the flash of astonishment as he panned a look at her. “I’m kidding! Well, kind of, but I’ll be thirty next summer.”

Ghost smoothed his hand over his covered mouth. “You’re killing me, woman.”

“Best stay on top of those heart meds then – ooh!” Andra shot forward and was caught by her seatbelt from Ghost slamming the breaks harder than normal. “You’re gonna cause an accident, sir.”

After a few beats of silence, Ghost changed the subject. “I hope the camera system will give you some peace of mind.”

“I’m sure it will.” She nodded with a hopeful smile.

Ghost ran inside the chip shop they ordered from while Andra sat in the truck to keep it running. Her head tilted back onto the head rest as she stared up at the roof of the truck. The lack of sleep was catching up to her, and now that there was less of a problem with surveillance around the farm, she felt the muscles in her shoulders relaxing.

The sudden sound of the driver door opening had her jerking back awake. She attempted to cover up the fact that she had dozed off in his truck with a little stretch of her legs.

Ghost handed her the bag of food without noticing her brief second of sleep and drove back to her house.

-----

“I get why you go to this place.” Andra spoke in between eating in the living room with him. “It’s not bad.”

“It’s also because Johnny has been getting us discounts from his little girlfriend.” Ghost wiped his mouth with a crumpled napkin.

Andra looked over the app on her phone that connected her to all of the cameras on her property. The feed looked really good, giving her confidence that she could point out important details if she ever had to. She switched to the camera that aimed at the dirt driveway with both trucks sitting outside. Her thumb and index finger spread across the screen to utilize the zoom feature; she was able to read off the license plate numbers from each truck.

“Thank you again for setting up the cameras.” Andra locked her phone and placed it down on the coffee table.

Ghost covered the lower half of his face back up with the balaclava as he finished his own meal. “Thank you for letting me.”

Her heart fluttered at the sudden drop in his voice. His eyes were set on her when she turned to look at him. Despite not being able to see his expression, she could feel a softness in his brown eyes.

“Let me get these out of the way.” Ghost insisted as he began to collect the takeout containers. Andra sucked down the last of her drink in her Styrofoam cup and tossed it into the bag Ghost was using.

Andra slipped a hand in the back pocket of her jeans. “You staying for a little while?”

“I can.”

She felt some relief for having to spend less time by herself for the evening.

While Ghost did his thing, Andra browsed her bookshelf in search of a new read.

“Anything interesting?” Ghost asked as he returned.

Andra chose Dune from the shelf. “Maybe.” She returned to her designated reading lounge chair and curled her legs up. “How far did you get with The Outsiders?”

Ghost scratched the back of his head. “Maybe the first fifty pages.” Then, he tilted his head. “How did you know I had it?”

Andra smirked. “It was gone the following morning after you left.”

Did she have him flustered? The indecisive glance to the couch and back to the front door then back to the kitchen was amusing enough to have her grinning.

“I have it in the truck, actually. Be right back.” Ghost made his way outside, letting in a kissing, chilly breeze.

It must have been the book she chose, or the way she receded back into the cushions, but she felt the wave of sleepiness return back. Or maybe it was Ghost’s presence, knowing he was only a few feet away on the couch with Sammy next to him. He emitted an aura that Andra could only classify as comfort. Safety.

She knew he was safe to fall asleep around, she knew he would keep her safe.

Andra flinched out of the sleep she was slipping into and let out a disappointed sigh. Her book was still in her hand, but the pages were damp from the warmth of her fingers holding them in place. She closed the book, not worried about where she left off because she wasn’t paying attention anyway and softened her movements as she looked to her right.

Ghost’s head lulled to one side from the upright position he fell asleep in, his arms crossed over his chest and his own book sitting on the table with Sammy resting in her own bed by the window. The heavy breath he suck in and released told her he was deeper in that sleep than she was.

How is he sleeping with the mask on? Andra wondered.

With light movement, Andra rose from her chair and padded quietly to the hallway closet to retrieve a blanket. He looked as tired as she felt halfway through the day, and she wasn’t about to wake him up and send him home. She unraveled the blanket and moved to lay it over Ghost just above his arms and below his collarbone.

But his awareness was more keen than Andra had anticipated. Ghost reached out, throwing the blanket off and swiped her wrists single-handed. The room went spinning, and she let out a small yelp as her back met the bottom cushions of the couch, his grasp securing her wrists above her head.

Ghost’s eyes were wild with alert, then widened as he realized who he just wrestled down. It startled her at first, but out of nervousness a chortle escaped. Then a chuckle, and confusion wrinkled Ghost’s eyebrows.

She probably looked insane to him. She was supposed to be frightened, but all she was was dizzy. And too aware of how his body hovered over her. The grip on her wrists eased up but remained there. Her giggles dissipated, along with whatever she was about to say. She was too absorbed by Ghost’s eyes darting all over her face, and she wasn’t too sure, but she was almost certain he kept looking to her mouth.

Before Andra could register what she was doing, she pressed her lips against the teeth of the skull pattern on his mask, hitting her mark as she felt his lips beneath. Ghost pulled away like she had put his hand in an open flame, his eyes widened. Oh shit, what have I done –

His empty hand shoved up the fabric of his balaclava and he smashed his mouth against hers. Heat blazed through her face, molten liquid flooding her core as she took in every sensation overwhelming her. The fierce hunger of his kiss. The friction of their bodies pressed against each other. The solid grip Ghost had on her wrists.

She couldn’t get close enough to him. Her leg attempted to hook around his waist, but only succeeded in wrapping around a thigh that nestled its way between her legs.

He couldn’t pull himself away, and instead fed the part telling him to nudge his knee where she wanted it. Ghost freed her hands to grip the thigh pulling him in, giving her free reign to cradle his stubbled jaw. His fingertips worked divots into the fabric of her jeans, earning a small sound from her tightening throat.

Andra hoped there would be marks later left where he was squeezing.

Her tongue slipped out between her lips and playfully swiped across his mouth. Oh fuck, the sound that just came from him… Andra had never heard arousal so delicious before.

All of Ghost was crashing through her like a freight train. His taste, his heat, his sounds. Her head felt like it’s been shoved underwater, and she has no intentions surfacing for air. Not when drowning in all of him felt this good.

Ghost reciprocated her invitation and found his tongue pushing through the slit of her lips. She felt her own arousal winding tightly in her warmth. Anything more was likely going to set her off. There’s no way I’m coming just from this, she cursed herself.

Ghost pulled away, hit hot breath fanning over her face. He moved his free hand to his mask, but it remained there. One second, two seconds. His mouth slackened into a frown, lips parted with labored breathing. The trance had been broken between the two. He retreated from where he had Andra pressed into the couch, his hands ran down his face and stayed there as he battled with himself.

Andra adjusted her shirt as she sat up and gave him a nudge of space. “Hey,” she softly said as she brought his hands down, cradling them in her own. “You don’t need to.”

“I want to.” He rasped, breathless from their kiss. “I don’t know why, but I can’t.”

“It’s okay.” She took his hand away from his face and stroked his knuckles with her thumb.

Ghost blinked a few times like he was waking up from a dream. “I shoved my tongue in your mouth.” He stated, a little too forward. His words had heat rushing to her face. “The least I can do I show you who is beneath this.” He gestured to the mask covering half of his face, a bitterness in his words directed to his disguise.

Andra slowly raised her hands to the bottom half of his revealed face. He flinched away from the contact, but settled as she let her thumbs brush against the stubble on his jaw. She made no subtle movements; just exploring the craters and slits across his skin.

Ghost watched her silently, attentively, his eyes flickering back and forth. She can feel the intensity, a man questioning the intentions of the woman touching him, holding the privacy and secrecy he clings to. He sucked in a breath as she took hold of the balaclava and didn’t exhale until Andra had pulled it back down over his face.

“If you’re not ready, then you’re not ready.” She affirmed.

His bandaged hand brushed Andra’s disheveled hair behind her ear. Ghost leaned in and pressed his covered mouth against her forehead. Andra gave him a meek grin as he pulled away.

Andra felt this moment building up to a goodbye, but she took his hand again. “You can stay here for the night. I don’t want you driving back even if it’s just down the street.”

He reached down on the floor and picked up the blanket. “If that’s alright with you, I’ll take up the couch-”

“Sleep on a bed, for gods’ sake.” Andra nodded her head to the stairs. “I have an extra room upstairs.”

Thankfully, Ghost didn’t argue. Heavy feet dragged themselves up the stairs, Sammy following them both. They took pause as both turned to each other from across the hall. There was so much she wanted to say, but the brief, drowsy goodnight that was exchanged had them retreating into their respective rooms. Andra leaned against the closed door, clouds in her head and lips swollen with the phantom sensation of their catalyst.

I've started up a taglist! comment if you want to get tagged for this story 🖤 likes & reblogs are wholeheartedly appreciated, your engagement helps new readers find me ✨

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classificationhell · 2 months

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For some reason, I will really love the symbolism Of Lucifer locking one of his children up in a place kinda like the garden of Eden. Like he treasures you so much that the only cage he could imagine, trapping you in is essentially paradise. I’m really tempted to write a fic about it. Canonically I know he would never do this but I like to think of something forced his hand, he would.

Like idk heaven would only let him have one kid because they don’t want hell to get too strong so he hid you away so they couldn’t find you. Or maybe without Lilith around he just decides to be selfish and lock them away to protect them. Such a fun concept Mourning star would definitely do this.

Omg yes, he would, especially the True Daughter Mourningstar! He'd want to create a little Eden where not even the Angels could reach them. This sounds like a fun idea, also if it wasn't Mourningstar, but an otherwise normal Lucifer there'd be a lot of angst potential there for being the one that was locked away and not allowed outside. I imagine that they would finally be revealed once they decide that they're making a stand against heaven. Lucifer himself may feel guilty about how he had to keep them sequestered away from the world because he feared what heaven might do if they found out about his second kid. Meanwhile, they have extreme social anxieties and insecurities, as well as possible agoraphobia due to not having been allowed out. Oooo would they even know about Charlie, and would Charlie even know about them? I imagine there'd be a lot of deceit going on to try and keep as many people as happy as possible, ooo in it that could be the main reason Lucifer felt so absent from Charlie's life as a youngster he's having to try and be father to two separate children. My only question would be where's Lillith in all this? Interesting idea you have there though ^^

Also, if you or anyone else wants to use any of my AUs or ideas as a jumping off point or just to borrow from you're more than welcome. All I ask is you cred classificationhell for inspiration, and on Ao3, I'd really love if it was tagged as inspired by one of the works so I could find it easily. I'd be very interested in anything anyone does for this.

#ask response #classification hell au #classificationhell #thank you #lore adjacent #lucifer mourningstar #another possible au that someone should definitely make #could be called the Hidden Child AU or Second Child AU or whatever i guess lol #angst

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nicksbestie · 10 days

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Dress - C. Sturniolo

Summary : AU where Chris is a frat boy, you're his girlfriend that he brings to their formal, and he's obsessed with the dress you chose.

Warnings : 16+ content. i am not responsible for the media you choose to consume online. smut, makeouts, p in v, fingering, overall very loving/sweet scene

Word Count : 3758

Pairing : Chris Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)

A/N : @bratzforchris and i were discussing this idea... and so it was born! hope you enjoy!

You had sworn to yourself in high school that you were never going to be the person who was always at parties in college.

It wasn’t your scene, you weren’t going to be that reckless, and you didn’t like being around drunk people. You’d promised yourself and your family that you would be safe and responsible, and if you were to go out, you wouldn’t take things too far. So how did you end up in a frat house every weekend, drunk out of your mind, stumbling back home? The college pressure has gotten to you. You didn’t feel well, you were struggling in your classes, so you turned to the one thing that got you to get a normal amount of sleep, and that just happened to be passing out drunk way too often than you should have been.

It wasn’t helping you, but it was keeping you from having to think about it too much, because instead of laying awake in your dorm, staring at the ceiling until three in the morning, the taste of alcohol was coating your lips, and all you cared to think about was the next cup you were picking up. It didn’t even matter what was in it. As long as it wasn’t laced with anything, you would down it easily. You were going down a terrible path, and everyone who encountered you for more than a couple nights in a row could see that. Your roommate had tried to talk you out of going out so much, but you had ignored her, choosing to brush her advice to the side as you continued to do what you were doing. She had resorted to keeping you as safe as possible, knowing that she couldn’t control you, but she was always there after the parties, helping take care of you and making sure you got home safely.

She was there every morning after as well, holding your hair back when the alcohol hit you as soon as you woke up, helping you clean the makeup from the previous night off of your face. She would lay out medications for you, making sure you drank water to help soothe your unavoidable headache, and all of the care would come with a gentle reminder that you shouldn’t be doing this. You would always listen but never actually take it to heart, and luckily, she was still always there. She didn’t give up on you, but she knew pushing you could risk pushing you farther into the state you were already in, so she took care of you in all the ways that she could. But eventually, she wasn’t the only one doing so. You were always at the same frat house, so a lot of the boys knew you by your face, not much by your personality, or even by your name. There was one boy, however, who always made sure to have his eyes on you.

Chris had noticed you since the first time you had ever showed up to a party hosted by his fraternity, and he wasn’t ashamed of it. You were beautiful, but he was way too drunk to approach you. His confidence was definitely increased by the alcohol, but he also knew from experience that hitting on a girl while he was wasted probably wasn’t the best choice, and he saw that you had someone with you, even though it was another girl. He had seen you every time you came into the frat house, and he had stayed sober solely for the reason of eventually talking to you. He noticed just how drunk you had been getting, and he kept his eyes on you so that if you needed help, he could be there. And eventually, his moment came. Your roommate hadn’t been there for you one night, because she didn’t know that you had come to a party this night, having had an evening class. So when you were basically stumbling down the front steps, he had rushed to make sure you didn’t fall.

It had all started there. He walked you home that night, making sure that you were okay, and when you had slurred over the words that invited him in, he accepted, solely for the purpose of not leaving you drunk and alone. He knew how it could look, so he kept his distance, laughing with you and spending time with you until your roommate got home. When she did, she couldn’t deny that she was shocked to see someone she didn’t know sitting on her dorm floor, but Chris rushed to explain that he had only come in to make sure that you didn’t wander off the second that he left. He introduced himself, leaving as soon as he was sure that you were safe, and every time you returned to the frat house, he was making sure that you were always within his sight range. He walked you home multiple times after that, really getting to know your roommate, and they became good friends.

The two of them combined had been the reason that you stopped partying so much. You still went out occasionally, but you were stone cold sober, and you only went to hang out with Chris. After a couple more weeks of this, Chris finally got the urge to ask you out, and you had accepted with a wide smile. It had been an amazing night, complete with him walking you home, having the route he had walked so many times memorized, dropping you off with a promise to see you the next day. You were infatuated with him, admiring the way he had kindly taken care of you for longer than you had ever noticed. He genuinely seemed like a good person, and he had taken everything so slow, knowing that you didn’t take very well to things moving quickly. He had been so supportive in your journey to get sober, and he and your roommate were everything to you.

So that brought you to now, your roommate helping you curl your hair as you were getting ready for Chris’ fraternity formal. You had finally decided that you wanted to go to one of them, and your anxiety was racing, your heart pounding in your chest. When you had really begun to get to know Chris, you realized just how popular he really was, an incredible contrast to your social life. You weren’t a nobody, but you certainly weren’t one of the people who was recognized in every class you stepped in, giving out high fives in the hallways, and having hundreds of people show up to your parties because they wanted a chance at speaking to you. However, he never let the popularity get to his head, and that was one of the things that you loved the most about him. He was genuinely a good person, but dating someone who was so popular as being someone who was not still made your heart sink.

People knew you were friends with Chris, but they didn’t know that you were dating him. The only people who knew that you and Chris were dating were you, Chris, and your roommate, as you had kept it very under wraps. You weren’t going to lie, you had heard some of the drunk comments that the frat brothers in Chris’ fraternity had made about him hanging out with you, and sometimes they stung, so you hadn’t come out about the true nature of your relationship with him. Chris had understood, and had no problem keeping it between your close group, knowing that regardless of who knew about the two of you, you were still his girl, so the approval of other people didn’t matter to him. You were a hopeless romantic, and Chris really was everything that you had ever dreamed of, but you were also a firm believer in the fact that relationships flourished better when they were quieter.

This was the first time that you were going out publicly as a couple. You had actually suggested it, knowing that Chris had asked a couple of times if you would ever consider it, and originally, you had said no. But now, you felt like you were ready, feeling like as long as you were with your boyfriend, it didn’t matter what anybody else thought or said about you. It may be cheesy, but you had the people who mattered to you the most, and everybody else could deal with it. Chris had been over the moon when he heard your decision, excited to take you out, and knowing that you would look absolutely stunning in whatever you chose to wear. Your roommate was careful not to burn you with the curling iron, touching up your makeup for you before leaving the bathroom to pull your dress off of the hanger, handing it to you for you to slip on. You zipped it up as far as you could, it catching on the fabric near the top, so you stepped out of the bathroom to have your roommate finish zipping it up for you. She smiled as soon as she saw you.

“You look beautiful, babe. Chris is going to lose his mind.”

You smiled back, turning around so she could help.

“Do you mind? I couldn’t get it all the way up.”

“Of course not!”

The second she went to finish zipping your dress, there was a knock at the door. Your dress was zipped up enough to stay perfectly positioned on you, so she went to open the door, smiling when she saw Chris.

“Oh, you should let him do it. Come on in, she’s almost ready.”

Chris stepped into the room, immediately seeing you as soon as he got through the doorway. His jaw seemed to hit the floor, eyes widening as he took in your appearance.

“Baby, you’re stunning.”

You smiled at him, waving him over.

“Can you finish zipping up my dress?”

He nodded, immediately moving behind you and making sure that he didn’t pinch your skin as he slid the zipper up to the top of the slit of your dress. He noticed the dress was backless, and he would’ve lied if anyone had pointed out that his hands were shaking. He couldn’t believe that he had gotten so incredibly lucky. He didn’t know what he had done in one of his past lives to deserve such a perfect person in his life, but he would do it a million times over if it meant that he got to have you for eternity. You sat down in your desk chair to put on your heels, and when you were struggling a little bit, he didn’t hesitate to crouch down and help you, since your dress was making it difficult for you to see the straps on them. He stood back up, offering you his hand, and pulled you into a kiss the second you were steadily on your feet. He smiled, pulling back, eyes looking directly into yours.

“You’re gorgeous. I got so lucky.”

You smiled, playing with the lapels of his tuxedo.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.”

It was at this point that your roommate rolled her eyes, coughing to get you to acknowledge the fact that she was still here.

“Alright, break it up, or get out of here. Go have fun, okay?”

She pulled you into a hug, whispering a reminder to be safe, as well as a reminder that she was so happy and proud of you. Before you left, she threatened Chris that if anything happened to you, she would murder him, before you pulled him out of the door, yelling back at her to stop scaring off your dates. The walk to the fraternity house was a good time for you and Chris to spend some quiet moments together. The sun had slowly started to go down, but it was still warm enough out for you to really enjoy it all. Your anxiety was fading as you walked with him, knowing that he wouldn’t let anybody do anything to hurt you. You tried to completely squash all the remnants of your anxiety, reminding yourself that you’re going to go enjoy a party with your best friend and your boyfriend all in one, and you were going to remember it this time.

You would be a liar to say that you didn’t feel the eyes on you, that you didn’t hear some people whispering about you, but most people were very kind, a lot of the other girls at the party complimenting how beautiful your dress looked. Chris reminded you every two minutes that you looked gorgeous, placing a kiss on your head or lips every thirty seconds. It really was one of the best times you had ever experienced at a fraternity house, and you were completely sober to enjoy it all. You were on such a high from having a good time with your boyfriend that you felt like you could be drunk, like nothing could bring you down, like nothing else mattered. Walking out of the party a little early, wanting to enjoy the rest of the night privately, you two began the walk to a common green on your campus. You checked your phone, smiling when you saw a text from your roommate.

bestie <3 : i’m staying at my boyfriend’s tonight. figured you guys would want some alone time. i love you!

You showed it to Chris, noting the way he smiled at you, laughing at his boyish reaction. You spent a little more time with each other, enjoying the general peace of each other’s presence, before getting up to go home. Walking back to your dorm, giggling like school children, with your hands clasped together, you felt like there could be nothing better than this. Confirming that Chris was with you as you entered the dorm building, you both moved quickly up the stairs, you having to pause to unlock the door. He pulled you into a kiss as you entered, shutting the door behind the two of you as you both stumbled towards your bed. You were standing in front of it, breaking the kiss to breathe, and to take your shoes off, as Chris’ hands now had one holding your side, and one toying with the top of your zipper.

“Can I take this off?”

You nodded, kissing him passionately before answering.

“I only bought it for you to take it off.”

You could feel the shaky breath than left his mouth against your lips as he fumbled with the zipper slightly, finally getting it and gently but firmly pulling it down. The straps of your dress loosened around your shoulders but didn’t fall, right on the edge of slipping off, and you felt warm hands move up and slide them down, removing your dress completely as he helped you step out of it. You hadn’t needed to wear a bra with this dress, since it had internal padding, and you could hear another breath leave your boyfriend, though this time it wasn’t shaky, and instead, was one of awe. He’d seen your body before, as you’d changed with him near multiple times, and this wouldn’t be the first time that you had slept with each other, but Chris would swear that you got more beautiful the more he saw you. He adored you, every part, and he tipped your head back so that he could start placing blooming bruises on your neck, loving the way you reacted to his motions.

Your knees eventually went weak, sitting down on the edge of the bed before the two of you moved fully onto it, albeit slightly ungracefully. You weren’t very adventurous people, keeping your nights together quite simple, as Chris hovered over you, placing kisses down your chest. You pulled him off only to remove his clothes, nearly tearing them in the process. Chris’ fingers played with the hem of your underwear, slowly removing them from your legs, continuing his trail of marks all the way down to your lower stomach, right above where you were growing desperate for his touch. You lifted your hips, a small gasp leaving your lips as he gently sucked another hickey, this time on your inner thigh. He left a couple more, running the tips of his fingers over your clit, alternating gentle taps on it to listen to your pretty whimpers. When you raised your hips again, whispering a plea for him to stop teasing, he took mercy on you, moving back up to kiss you again.

He smiled against your lips as he swallowed the moan that left your lips as he used his lips to heighten the pleasure of the firm movements and pressure on your clit, caused by his thumb. He messily made out with you, making the transition from simply touching you to fingering you, starting with just one, warming you up, loving the sounds you were making, feeling them vibrate against his mouth. It wasn’t long until your hips were pushing back to meet every movement he made, and he pushed in a second finger, beginning to curl them as he detached your lips, wanting to hear all the noises leaving your mouth. He didn’t stop moving his fingers, loving how beautiful you looked when your eyes were fluttering shut, your head slightly tipped back, and your back beginning to arch. He smiled at you, kissing your neck again.

“God, baby, you’re soaked.”

You whined at his words, a little bit louder than you would have liked to, and Chris quieted you down by kissing you again, increasing the speed of his fingers, feeling your hips lift against his. It took all of his effort not to grind down against your touch, kissing you harder. He swallowed every moan and whimper that left your mouth, enjoying just how reactive you were. He kept his ministrations going until he felt you clenching around him, pulling off of your mouth to hear your moans quickly rise in pitch, before removing his touch. You whined, pushing your hips down to try and chase the feeling, but he didn’t let you.

“I want you to cum on my dick, not around my fingers.”

You pulled his body impossibly closer to you, feeling him push his boxers down to relieve some of the immense tension in his pants. He removed them as quickly as possible, adjusting how he was on top of you, a hand coming up to run his thumb along the side of your face, holding your jaw, admiring just how pretty you were under him. He’d seen this sight before, but he would never get tired of it. He brought his hand back down to rub at your clit, giving you pleasure to distract from the slight pain of him slowly pushing into you. He kissed you deeply, not daring to move faster than you were ready for. He let out a deep groan when he bottomed out, feeling you echo a moan against his lips. He stayed as still as possible, fighting the urge to bury himself in you, giving you as much time as you needed to adjust to the stretch. As soon as you gave him the okay to move, his breathing was shaky, overwhelmed by just how good you felt around him.

“Oh my god, baby.”

You could only whimper in response, the drag of his cock against every perfect spot bringing you to tears of pleasure. You felt full, your sweet spot being abused as he slowly built up his pace, gaining speed. He was groaning into the side of your neck, his hips building a steady rhythm as you fell apart on his dick. He knew exactly what angle to hit, bringing back the stimulation on your clit. As he did so, he felt you tighten around him for a split second, gasping at the unexpected pleasure that rode through him, his hips jerking of their own accord before returning to the rhythm he had set for the two of you. As his perfectly angled thrusts gained a little bit more speed, you could feel your orgasm swirling in the pit of your stomach, what felt like a coil crunching down and getting ready to snap. Chris knew the signs of you being on the edge, and he added more pressure to your clit, feeling the way you were beginning to consistently clench around him, speaking into your ear.

“So good for me, baby, make me feel so good-”

His voice broke against your ear, a whimper of his own slipping through as the rhythm of his hips began to falter. The praise that he kept trying to speak, the breathless “good girl” that slipped from his lips, did it for you. Your finish felt like it knocked the wind out of you, tightening around Chris’ dick, back arching harshly as you cried out his name. He completely lost control at this, hips desperately jerking as he chased his own release, you whining as you felt it inside of you. He was breathing heavily, but so were you, as you basked in the glow of your orgasms. After a couple of minutes, he slowly pulled out, whispering apologies as you winced in sensitivity. He kissed you to distract you, before grabbing some of the wipes off of your nightstand and beginning to gently wipe the evidence of your night off of your legs. You were exhausted from the party and now the sex, mustering up the energy to speak.

“I love you.”

He pulled back, smiling at you.

“I love you more. Let me take care of you, okay?”

His aftercare was short but sweet, rubbing your legs so that they hopefully wouldn’t ache too much in the morning, carrying you to the bathroom where he sat you down on the toilet, gently helping you and himself clean off with a damp washcloth after you peed. You were both spent, and a shower could wait until the morning, but at least this way you weren’t tired and gross. He had you back in bed quickly, but not before helping you into some soft clothes. He had a couple pairs of sweats, boxers, and shirts at your dorm, so he pulled clothing back on, pulling you into his arms and kissing the top of your head. You laid in comfortable silence before he spoke, the last thing that would be said before you fell asleep.

“I love that dress.”

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the-travelling-witch · 2 months

Text

summary: i'm back on my "'i have more knowledge on x topic than all your advisers together, i just couldn’t progress through the ranks for one reason or another, so you should definitely make me your concubine, so i can gossip about your minister of finance’s stupid proposal while wearing expensive shit and fine dining and then we slowly fall in love' royal au" bs again, so have some rambles because there are a lot of possible constellations here

characters: shouto :: kenma :: inui/koko :: al-haitham/kaveh x gn! reader

general masterlist

𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐎

You could practically feel the daggers being glared into your skull. This entire meeting so far, the prince’s closest adviser had narrowed his eyes at you, a gesture which you only returned with a coy smile.

Really, just because it wasn’t common for a royal concubine to attend a meeting concerning safety measures at the upcoming masquerade ball, there was no need for such hostility.

Then again, maybe the adviser was so foul-tempered because of the physical position you found yourself in. But it wasn’t your fault they hadn’t prepared another seat for you or that Shouto was notoriously unbothered with social etiquette. So, if the prince ordered his concubine to sit on his lap instead, who were you to argue?

You doubted he glared at you because he was aware you had been investigating him or that you knew he and his fellow spies were planning an assassination attempt on the royal whose arm was currently lazily curled around your waist.

Surely, ��concubine” was not exactly the title you had had in mind when agreeing to work as an intelligence agent on the Todoroki court but considering the former crown prince Touya had basically gone up in smoke after an attempt on his life, placing yourself right next to the prince where an enemy wouldn’t expect might not be a bad idea.

Besides, since you had taken the prince up on his offer, you had been able to enjoy many luxuries you could previously not even dream of. Delicacies practically melted on your tongue, the material of your clothes was of a quality so fine it was like dressing in air and the library held rare books you normally couldn’t get your hands on just like that.

You also had to admit, pretending to be Shouto’s lover wasn’t exactly torture either. Not only was he as handsome as they come but he was also very well-mannered towards you even in private. The clumsy side only few got to see when he let his guard down was also quite adorable.

So, to say you were quite comfortable where you were and had no intention of giving up your spot any time soon was an understatement.

“Your Highness is it really necessary to bring,” the adviser paused momentarily as he gestured at you, “this person to a meeting such as this? How can we be sure they are not working for an opposing kingdom, relaying our security measures to the enemy?”

You caught yourself before a snort escaped you. Seriously, how was nobody onto this guy before you came around?

“I have no doubt about their loyalty to me and the kingdom,” Shouto said, tone even as always, yet his hand around your waist tightened. “Besides, their safety might be compromised just like mine, so this information should be shared with them as well.”

“That’s right,” you goated, a sharp grin on your lips as you reached backwards over your shoulder to run your fingers down Shouto‘s neck as you held eye contact with the adviser. “I’ve shown my devotion to the prince in ways you never could.”

Soon you’d watch the light drain from his eyes as you ended his miserable life but for now you’d find amusement in how they widened in indignation.

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐀

“Your Highness! I must ask you to stay in the medic’s quarters!” Said medic was fussing around you as you pulled the outer layer of your clothes back on. “I dressed the wound and used a minor healing spell but you need to rest! A-and your medicine—“

“I can rest in my quarters too,” you sighed, already halfway out of the door. “Someone will come pick up the treatment later.”

The medic was still stammering long after you already set out towards your room, trying not to put too much pressure on your side. You didn’t think it’d be that big of a deal but apparently the monster’s claws that had grazed your skin were laced in some sort of venom, the pain of which left you wheezing when you received another blow to the stomach.

Half stumbling, half falling into your room, you reckoned whatever spell the medic had cast hadn’t done much to rid your body of the poison, especially if you remembered how he had floundered once you first drudged into the infirmary. No wonder you had gone behind your parents’ backs to employ someone who actually understood his craft.

“Whoa what happened to you?” Kenma lifted his head from his magic-driven game board at the sound of the door opening. His sharp amber eyes studied you from head to toe, taking in the ripped clothes and collection of bruises and scratches. “You look like death chewed you up and spit you back out.”

“Thanks,” you retorted just as sarcastically, working to rid yourself of the rest of your armour, wincing when you strained the area around your ribs. “Must be the poison.”

“Poison?” Immediately, Kenma had perked up, already rounding the table, his game forgotten. “What poison? And where? And why didn’t you lead with that?”

Usually, the guy tried to make himself as small as possible, hoping to blend into the background. But whenever you dragged in yet another weird and wonderful ailment from out in the wild, your shy healer found himself in the habit of becoming a little bossy. Other royals might take offence if their concubines used that kind of tone but you had to admit you didn’t really mind.

“Well, it’s not like you gave me much of a chance to explain,” you laughed, pulling your shirt off and letting it pile up with the rest of your things, then wriggled your eyebrows at the blond. “So, where do you want me?”

“You are the worst, even when you’re dying,” Kenma rolled his eyes before a warm hand settled on your bare back and nudged you towards the bed. “For now, just lie down. And tell me exactly what the hell happened to you.”

Without any resistance, you settled down and watched as Kenma got to work. It was fascinating each time, even if you didn’t understand much of it and you were the one having to be treated. Whenever he focused on something, he adopted this no-nonsense expression, lips tightened into a line and eyebrows drawn together. You didn’t even want to start thinking about the way your skin tingled where his fingers touched you, well aware that the reason for it wasn’t the magic Kenma used.

“I told the doc someone would pick up my medicine later,” you spoke up once your healer had finished his work and both of you were just lingering within the same space.

As always when you told Kenma something he didn’t want to hear, he made one of the most expressive faces of disgust a human could muster.

“I’ll make sure to trip on the way,” he shrugged and you were aware he might actually do it too. “I didn’t spend all this time healing you just so that idiot can poison you again with whatever concoction he came up with this time.”

“Just what would I do without you?” Brushing a stray strand of hair out of his eyes, you didn’t miss how Kenma, the guy who used to flinch at people coming near him, leaned slightly into your touch.

𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐈 / 𝐊𝐎𝐊𝐎

The golden light of the sinking sun illuminated the balcony as birds chirped their last songs of the day. In the midst of the flowers blooming across the railing and the castle walls, three people sat around a table filled with fruits, cheese and many other delicious foods, eating and laughing together.

“But to come back to your Minister of Finance’s proposal,” Koko, who seemingly hadn’t taken his eyes off the kingdom’s budget sheet, spoke up. Splitting off a few of the coins from the stack in front of him to visualise the share he was thinking about, he offered his insight. “I think we should use a cut of the newly allocated funds to strengthen the army’s equipment. The knights could do with new armour, especially considering the neighbouring kingdom has been less than friendly lately.”

“What new funds are we talking about?” You inquired, not having been privy to the meeting prior this day.

“The party we sent out recently was more successful than we expected them to be,” Inui clued you in with a small smile as he studied what Koko proposed.

“Ah, the expedition that was my idea and that I equipped with the right tools. In that case,” you said, a mischievous glint in your eyes, before you made the stack of coins levitate over your outstretched palm, “I think we should use it to build a magic tower. It would help more with defence than equipping the knights, considering what fun things I could do with one.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Koko scolded, reaching over the table to snatch the coins back. “How should we justify the King’s concubine wishing for a magic tower?”

While you shrugged, Seishu took your hand and answered much gentler than the black haired man.

“I have to agree with Koko. Not because I doubt you could do a lot of great things with such a tower but because we already had a lot of trouble explaining why the lightning only struck the enemy’s side in the last battle,” he sighed, giving you an understanding look he knew had you giving in already. “The public doesn’t know we have a magic user on our side and word of construction would spread fast. Don’t forget why you went into hiding in the first place.”

“Yeah yeah, I understand, no magic tower. But, how about,” you leant back in your chair, tossing a coin you had hidden up your sleeve before Koko could retrieve it, “one or the other magic tome? Nobody would even notice. Just say it’s for a new necklace or whatever else concubines usually get.”

“Are you suggesting we commit fraud?” Koko levelled his accusatory gaze at you.

“I don’t know, am I?” You innocently asked, batting your eyelashes at him. “It would be for the good of the people, after all.”

“How is you getting a new toy good for the people?”

“I could make the grains grow faster or whatever the people usually pray for,” you shrugged. “I’m at least granting their wishes.”

“I thought you were interested in necromancy recently,” Seishu laughed knowingly. “I’m no expert in the field but how is that helping with making the crops grow?”

“I’m sure a walking dead body or two would scare off the crows,” you said as seriously as you could. “It might also scare off thieves, now that I think about it.”

Koko just looked at you, horrified, while Seishu laughed at your nonchalance. When the former regained his senses, he reprimanded you again.

“We are not using tax money, so you can experiment with the undead and unleash them on the public!”

“Eh, it was worth a try,” you relented before popping another grape in your mouth.

𝐀𝐋-𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌 / 𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇

You were well aware of the whispers that filled the halls of the castle when you weren’t present.

Kaveh was probably a more conventional concubine to take, considering his innate kindness and striking beauty. Clearly, when he waltzed into the room beside you, it was like the sun was rising before everyone’s eyes. Yeah, he was probably an expected choice.

Al-Haitham, on the other hand…

It wasn’t exactly his physique which raised people’s questions. Moreso it was his gruff temper and apparent boredom with most topics, burying his nose in a book and brushing people off with less than a single word at times, that made your staff shake their heads at your appointment.

Not that it mattered much what other people thought.

What did matter, however, was that your country’s infrastructure had improved significantly since you made your peculiar choice of companions. After most critical meetings concerning upcoming construction, your subordinates believed your return to your chambers meant you just had to relieve some pent-up stress. Yet, those “steamy” nights were spent hunched over maps and graphs of your nation, pointing out the flaws in your advisers’ proposals and redoing blueprints of planned buildings.

Perhaps nobody else in the castle was aware of it, but Al- Haitham and Kaveh were a genius strategist and brilliant architect respectively, responsible for the projects the public praised you most for. And that had been the nature of your relationship in the beginning. They patched out your advisers’ proposals and you made sure they were compensated accordingly, unconventional as the methods may be.

Though, you supposed, after working together for a while, the titles you had given them may not be so wrong anymore. Long nights spent agonising over the ideal location for a new project had turned into quiet evenings lounging around your quarters, enjoying fine wine and lingering touches. Having the two around had become a great sense of comfort to you and running into them between meetings and stacks of paperworks waiting for you made a spark of fondness flutter in your chest.

However, running into both of them at the same time also meant the unlikely pair were probably bickering. This time, you could actually hear them before you rounded the corner.

“I’m telling you, if we use this type of wood-”

“It would rot under the environmental influences faster than you could complete construction.”

“Why, you…!”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you exhaled ready to calm down the situation somehow. Then, you came face to face with them and had an entirely new idea on how to mediate. Haitham had his arms crossed as he regarded the blond with an unimpressed expression, the pose accentuating the way his biceps and triceps flexed. With Kaveh turned away from you, you had a clear view of his back, as always exposed by the flowy robes he wore.

Sure, they might not be the most usual concubines you could’ve chosen, but that didn’t matter.

“Strategy meeting in my quarters, now. Royal orders.”

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muzansfangs · 5 months

Text

You always wanted me.

Starring: Rengoku Kyojuro x f!reader; mention to past relationship with Sanemi;

Format: one-shot;

Warnings: nsfw, modern au, vaginal sex, creampie, unprotected sex, language, use of alcohol, drunkness, drunk sex but consensual, breeding kink, semi-public sex, mention to past relationship with Sanemi, cheating thought in past relationship;

Plot: A night in a pub and a failed date led you to drink away your sorrow. Unfortunately, the main reason behind your problems shows up and your tipsy state does not help you to keep your tongue tied. Too many shots of tequila, the man you have always wanted so ardently and a restroom were the ingredients required to make your heart burn that very night.

Author note: it is rare for me to put the author note on top of a one-shot, but in order to prevent possible drama to happen, I needed to clarify a thing: this fic is an old work of mine posted on my old Ao3 account and my old Wattpad profile. While I cannot log anymore into Ao3 for some reason, I can still log into my old Wattpad profile and I will try to gradually delete my old works as I fix and rewrite them! Do not worry and enjoy this little scrap!

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“Another one!” you slurred, slamming the empty glass on the counter before you. It was your fourth shot. You were not used to drink that much, especially in a public place. The thing was you definitely had a good reason to drink down almost a whole bottle of tequila alone. You had just been stood up by a guy you had asked out to forget about your crush.

Your real crush. Or in other terms, the reason behind the loop of failed dates you had fallen into because he was so unapproachable. You wished you could forget about him, but nothing and no one could ever take his place in your heart. Why did he have to he that kind of guy that literally ruin your rationality and the chance to enjoy the company and the small attentions other men could provide you?

Disheartened, you sighed and propped your elbows on the counter in annoyace, waiting for the barman to fill your glass once again. No matter how hard to tried to ignore him, you always found yourself back at daydreaming about his piercing orange and red eyes.

Why could you not forget about him and his dazzling smile?

Whenever someone else had a chance to pick your interest and finally make you move on, something methodically went wrong. Maybe you had been jinxed.

A small smile curved your lips, when the guy in front of you carefully slided the drink in your direction. As soon as the smile appeared, it dropped, though. Someone hastily grabbed your glass and elegantly brought it to his lips, preventing you from enjoying your feast. How dare him steal your drink in such a dreadful night?

You were about to throw a punch at that rude man, but when your head snapped towards him you gaped in shock. Blinking skeptically, you gawked and your mind went blank for several seconds. That must have been a joke.

“What the Hell?” you babbled out, rolling your eyes in despair. If bad luck had a name, it would have definitely been yours. Those combined phenomena were indeed persuading you to believe some witch had cursed you for real.

“Fancy meeting you here, Y/N! Mind if I join you? You seem pretty upset. What's happened?” Kyojuro casually asked, sitting right next to you.

“You happened! - you asserted, darting your eyes on the barman - Another one, please” you asked, or better pleaded him, folding your arms over your chest.

Now you truly were irritated. Not only he pestered your mind day and night, but he also had the audacity of stealing your drinks and clubbing in your favorite place.

The blonde man chuckled and shook his head at you “Come on, don't hold a grudge. I have actually done it on purpose. I have to confess that I have been watching you for a while now. I don't think you should drink that much, you know?” he said softly, his eyes trailing up to your face. For a second, he seemed genuinely concerned.

Kyojuro Rengoku had always had a crush on you. He would have asked you out, if Sanemi had not messed up his plans by fooling around with you. After your break-up, he had noticed some changes in your behavior. You seemed not to care about anyone anymore. It was like you were running away from feelings and Kyojuro could not stand the rumors of you sleeping around with tons of strangers to possibly fill a void in your heart. It hurt him.

He was meant for loving you, not those bottom-dwellers you occasionally spent your nights with.

“So you're a watcher now! How cute! I don't need a babysitter, I can take care of myself” you blurted out, squinting your eyes and trying your best to act cool.

Unfortunately, your body had had enough. Your vision was getting blurry. You hated to admit it, but you were actually glad he was there to watch over you, even if you wanted to rip his face to shreds.

But just like your body, your mind began to wander in the very places you were trying to keep it awat from.

You glanced at him, your heart sinking into your chest at the sight your eyes had been blessed with. Kyojuro, drink in hand, was moistening his lower lip with his tongue. He seemed to be mulling something over. Maybe, he was just offended by your arrogance, or maybe he had a date and he was regretting having approached you.

Actually, you did not care. Happy, sad, angry or thoughtful it was Kyojuro. It was him, the only one your heart desired.

Oh, the things you wanted him to do with his tongue.

It was not a good time for fantasizing, though. You clenched your jaw, reaching your hand out to grab your glass, but you lost your grip on it and the shot slipped from your hand. The liquor inevitably spilled on Kyojuro's white shirt, making him stand up in shock. You wanted to apologize, your mouth was already opened, but you gawked when you spotted the outline of his toned, chiseled chest underneath the material of his shirt.

“Uhm... I— Kyo, I'm sorry! Let me help you” you stuttered, searching for a tissue in your purse. How stupid of you.

He was soaked, how could a tissue solve his problem or make it better?

You groaned in frustration, frenetically rummaging through your bag when Kyojuro's voice stopped you.

“Wait, it's okay, really! Let's go to the restroom. The dryer might help me” he reasoned, suddenly encircling your waist and pulling you towards him. Was it real? You blushed and tried to distance yourself from him, but the only reaction you got in return, was being held even tighter.

You frowned and shot him an interrogative glance, which was returned by a bright smile “Hey, you know, I can walk without you leading me around like a toddler” you pinpointed, rolling your eyes in feigned contempt. How could you deny you loved the feeling of being in such a close proximity with him?

Kyojuro, on the other hand, sighed and pushed the door of the restroom opened to let you in first “If you were fine, we would have not had a problem now. Why do you always have to be a bitch, anyway?” he asked you, undoing the first buttons of his shirt right away.

Not even firing something back, you froze solid and turned your face to the opposite side of the room, trying to ignore the urge to contemplate the celestial vision dazzling you in the restroom of a pub. You were not capable of saying a word. Your brain was fuming.

'What the fuck, Kyojuro?! Can't you just leave?' you thought, rubbing your temples to ease the pressure a tad bit.

“I’m talking to you. Look at me” he said then. You felt his gaze boring holes on the back of your head, but you knew that facing him meant losing your self-control.

“You know, I am fine staring at the wall. Don't you—…”you tried to talk back, but Kyojuro forcefully spun you around. He was done with you and the childish attitude of your drunk self.

Your hair whipped your cheeks, as you found yourself lost into a pair of orange and red orbs scrutinizing your face. Well, that was your end.

Your lips parted and you gulped nervously at the sight before your eyes. A shirtless Kyojuro was holding both your wrists in his huge hands, your eyes travelling down his toned chest and abs. Could it be even worse? Yes, it actually could.

“I'm still waiting for an answer” he stated, arching a thick eyebrow up.

You cleared your throat and shook your head “I'm not going to give you one” you murmured. Was it really that hard to understand that your behavior was your only defense against your love for him?

After all, you had screwed up your long-lasting relationship for him.

Kyojuro stared at you for a few seconds, then he swiftly pushed your back against the wall. Your hands were easily pinned up above your head, as he towered over you in a iron grip. The message was crystal clear. He did not want you to move.

You were stunned in silence, your breath hitched, as his face was now dangerously close to your mouth.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you breathed out, your voice betraying you. You liked this physical contact way too much to keep on fronting.

The blonde man in front of you cracked a smile “I'm trying to solve the problem once and for all. I know why you and Sanemi broke up. — he started — He told me you screamed my name, as you climaxed around him”.

He knew.

You blushed and gawked at his words. He had just thrown facts at your face. You had been exposed. Was it really necessary denying the truth any longer? No, it was not. What about your sense of shame? It was long gone, after the amount of alcohol you had gulped down. You were not even mad at Sanemi for having blabbed out your little secret. This was just above you.

You glared at Kyojuro, tilting your head to the side to contemplate his face properly. He was handsome as Hell. You wanted him and you wanted him now. You had always wanted him.

“Well then, I guess the comedy is over. I should be thankful to Sanemi for having exposed me like that. I finally can get what I wanted from the very beginning” you said, before hungrily smashing your lips against his ones.

It took a moment for him to realize what you were doing, and maybe you were pretty shocked too by your boldness, but once your taste indulged on his tongue he gained courage and kissed you back.

Your tongues danced together, soft moans left your mouth, when Kyojuro inevitably began to lead the way.

You felt like you were on a burning ship, without any lifeboat you could jump in to escape your fate. Still, you did not fight for your life. You were happily embracing your destiny. You had chosen it yourself. You had broken the curse affecting you for years.

When his lips left yours, your breath was uneven but your eyes sparkled with a savage lust he could not ignore and it was enough for him to unbuckle his belt and slip his calloused hand underneath your dress.

Words were superfluous, you both needed your release. Your hunger was fuel to his burning desire. Kyojuro was usually the calm and collected guy everybody got along with. Getting to see what laid underneath that cheerful and respectful façade was sending you straight to cloud nine.

The moment his fingers made their way beneath your panties and reached your slit, he sighed and began to stroke your bundle of nerves in circluar motions “We won't need much foreplay. You are so damn wet” he whispered, drawing invisible circles on your clitoris.

You were breathless. Whimpers and whines erupted from your throat as you bucked your hips against his hand. You were such a mess he envied Sanemi for having got you before he did.

“Please, please, Kyojuro, I need you... Don't waste time” you breathed out, grinding your hips against his hand.

Hearing those words falling from your lips, the blonde man shoved two fingers into your core and slowly pumped them in and out of your entrance. You loved how dominant he was, you loved the way he seemed to ignore you and your needs. Everything he did was magic.

“Gosh, you're such an impatient brat” he joked, watching your mouth resembling the shape of an o. Sinful moans erupted from your throat and you digged your nails onto his shoulders not to collapse onto the floor. You were close and he knew it. He could feel it by the way your walls squeezed his fingers, almost sucking them in. Therefore, he hastily pulled them out of you, much to your dismay.

You whined for the sudden emptiness you were experiencing and your eyes locked with his one in a pleading glance. Kyojuro unzipped his pants and pulled them down enough to allow his member to spring out of his boxers.

You blushed, as his hand found its way to your dripping core again. He easily pushed your panties aside and hooked your right leg up on his hip for a better access.

You could feel his hot breath fanning your lips and his bulge pressing against your entrance, collecting your juices as a lube.

“Are you okay? Can I go ahead?” he asked, kissing you gently then.

You nodded and cupped his cheek in your hand, pressing your forehead against his one “Drunk or not, I love you” you whispered, confessing your feelings after years of fears and tears.

Kyojuro held you close to him and finally entered you, earning a loud moan of pleasure from you. He waited for you to adjust to his size, a strained moan rumbling from deep in his chest as he pushed himself into you slowly, inch after inch. Gasping and moaning softly, you felt your walls adapting to him and once he was buried deep into you, Kyojuro gently pulled out a bit. He started pounding into you slowly but passionately, filling you in places no one had ever reached before.

You screamed his name, not worrying about being in a public place and Kyojuro muffled your moans with his tongue anyway.

“Tell me how badly you wished it was me and not him back in time. Tell me. Tell me how many times you wanted to fuck me on your shared bed” he stated, slamming into you a little faster now.

You moaned his name, your legs shaking as you lolled your head back in ecstasy “Countless times” you said, as he gripped your face by your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“I'm not pulling out, you know that?” he rasped, hitting the perfect spot inside you as your eyes locked.

It was the perfect ending, something long overdue. You kissed him enjoying every minute of it until the very end. You came with a loud moan, he following right after you. You felt his seed filling you up to you cervix, as he peppered your face in small, affectionate kisses. He was perfect, this was perfect.

“You're coming home with me tonight” he breathed out, caressing your cheekbones before pulling out of you.

You were finally his.

AUHTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! Welcome to ‘AUTHOR NOTE PART TWO’, lmao. I intended to post this yesterday but I really fell asleep after dinner on the couch. I only woke up when my boyfriend came back home and his dog began to run and bark to tell me he was opening the door. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this one! I love Kyo with a passion and I wanted to show him some love too!

As per usual, likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreacited!

TAGS: @doumadono @electronicwitchcollection @mrskokushibo

#rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyojuro x you #kyojuro x reader #rengoku smut #rengoku x reader #rengoku x y/n #kyojuro x y/n #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro #demon slayer smut #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer x reader

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staytheword · 1 year

Text

caramel popcorn

caramel popcorn — one shot [ general masterlist ]

this one shot (and this blog) are 18+ !! minors, please do not interact!!

• felix x female reader; changbin x female reader (not the focus).

• non idol au. friends with benefits. roommates (changbin and felix). pining. drinking. there's a party. explicit language. mention of slumps/depression. explicit sexual content. not beta read.

• smut warnings (spoilers ahead) — slightly perv felix (he a simp). voyeurism. voice kink. masturbation (alone and together). mentions of a possible threesome. oral sex (f receiving). fingering. protected sex, cumplay if you squint.

• word count: 11.5k

You are Changbin's fuck buddy. You two are just friends, but you are still something. Felix shouldn't have a crush on you. He still does.

Felix comes home earlier than usual.

Work is slow today, and he’s feeling out of it, so he just decides to close his computer and walk home. It’s not like he will be missed, and he can catch up on his hours during the rest of the week. For now, he can’t focus, feeling a little blue, unable to find the motivation to keep going. It’s not that he’s losing interest in what he does – it’s not specific to his job. He’s just been feeling disconnected with reality, like he’s too used to the things around him. Everything feels… automatic. Mechanical.

He needs change. He needs something to snap him out of the redundancy, a hook to get caught upon, a thought to keep him up at night.

You come into his life at the right time.

He pushes the code on the handle to unlock the door, his tie already pulled loose around his collar, his hair ruffled by the wind of the subway. His briefcase hangs on his hand, feeling heavier than usual, and he opens the door with a slight shove, letting it close behind him. He takes off his shoes, throws his briefcase on the couch and starts to shrug off his jacket when he hears a noise coming from inside the apartment.

Changbin isn’t usually home at this time of the day, either. Or is it one of his days off? Felix isn’t sure. Days have been merging into each other, each of them feeling exactly like the one before. His roommate and best friend has been trying to snap him out of it, dragging him to parties or other activities, attempting to reactivate his creativity, the spark in his eyes. Felix appreciates his effort – Changbin is a good friend, always has been. It’s not his fault Felix can’t make it out of the fog. It really isn’t. In fact, if Changbin wasn’t there, Felix is sure it would be much worse. He would truly come apart if it wasn’t for those movie and pizza nights, for Changbin singing in the shower, for their video game tournaments, for their trips to the gym twice a week.

Felix slowly finishes taking off his jacket, listening intently. For a few seconds he doesn’t hear anything and wonders if he imagined it, but then there’s the definitive sound of a voice coming from the hallway. It sounds like Changbin, although it’s a little muffled. Felix moves quietly, takes a few steps inside the living room and towards the hallway, and is about to call his roommate’s name when he hears another voice.

This one is definitely not Changbin, and is irrevocably a moan of pleasure. Felix stops in his tracks, feeling the blush rise to his cheeks. The voice moans again, Changbin’s name this time, and Felix does not know what to do. Changbin is clearly… busy. Should he leave? Should he make enough noise so that whoever is in there with Changbin hears him?

Who is the girl in Changbin’s room?

Who are you?

As always, Felix’s curiosity gets the best of him.

He tiptoes around the corner of the hallway and takes a peek. The door to Changbin’s room is ajar. Where he’s standing, Felix can only see a little of it, a part of the bed, on which two naked bodies are moving together. He recognizes Changbin’s dark hair and muscular arm, which is pinning down someone’s hand on the mattress.

Felix doesn’t see you well. Hints of your hair, of your profile, of the shape of your neck and collarbone. Changbin hides you, which is a good thing – he wouldn’t dare look if he wasn’t. However, he can hear you clearly, breathing heavily, whimpering against Changbin’s mouth, moaning in his neck. He can hear the sound of Changbin’s thrusts into you, the skin smacking, the bed squeaking.

Changbin is fucking you hard.

Felix definitely isn’t supposed to be seeing this. You haven’t heard him come in, because you are completely unbothered, fucking like there’s no one around to hear or see you. Felix’s cheeks are bright red, mouth parted in slight fascination, unable to look away although he really should.

Of course he is aware that Changbin has a sex life, an active one at that. They are both open about it, never crass but always honest. So it’s not a surprise that Changbin is with someone, it’s just rare that he brings his guest to their shared apartment, and it’s certainly the first time Felix is walking in on him. He should definitely leave, come back in an hour or two, when Changbin’s hopefully done and there is no chance of being caught like a pervert.

But there’s something so fascinating about you, and Felix can’t bring himself to move. It’s in the way you breathe, panting, slightly trembling. It’s in your voice, in your whispers and your pleas. Changbin growls in your ear, muttering things that Felix can’t quite catch, but it seems to be working because you dig your fingers in his arm and his hair. Felix can hear your words getting tangled.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” Changbin says.

That Felix hears perfectly well, and the way you nod feverishly sends a rush of blood to his cock. His hand grabs his crotch and he realizes he’s hard. His fingers press his length, already uncomfortable in his pants, and Felix closes his eyes, shaking his head. What’s his problem? Getting a boner from watching his best friend fuck someone? True, he hasn’t gotten laid in a while now, but it’s no excuse. This is wrong. Isn’t it?

He turns away, pushes his back against the wall, closes his eyes.

“Fuck, Changbin, I’m – please –”

Your voice sounds so beautiful, so pleading, so raw. It rattles a little, lost between your unsteady breaths, and Felix can hear Changbin accelerate his thrusts. The bed slams against the wall as he pounds into you, and your words turn into whimpers.��

You keep repeating his name, ask him not to stop, and Felix is stroking his cock almost instinctively above his pants. He can’t stop listening, hypnotized. He just wants to take out his cock and jerk it off so he can come at the same time as you. At this point he’s not even being careful at being caught. He wants to hear you.

Fuck, he should move.

Fuck, he should stop.

Fuck, he can’t.

Felix closes his eyes and lets your voice fill his ears. You inhale sharply, you breathe out a moan, you hiss words he can’t comprehend. As you come, Felix squeezes his cock, feeling it twitch under his hand, but he delights too much in the sound to think about his own pleasure. How do you sound so good? So lovely, so vulnerable, so strong? He could drown in the melody.

The apartment falls quiet for a second. Felix breathes out discreetly as he hears whispers coming from the room, and then muffled chuckles. You say something to Changbin - his name, and something else. There’s the swishing sounds of sheets. Are you changing positions? Are you straddling Changbin, taking his cock deep inside of you again, or are you maybe taking him in your mouth?

Felix blinks. What the fuck is he doing? He stares down at his crotch, and the fingers he has sprawled around his length. This isn’t right. He quickly removes his hand, shakes his head. He needs to go before you or Changbin find him listening in.

Oh, but how lovely you sound.

“Am I doing good, Binnie?”

“You’re doing so good. You take my cock so well.”

“Fuck, that’s so deep…”

Felix turns away and quietly walks back towards the door. He needs some air. He grabs his jacket, slips it back on, and heads outside.

The bitter spring air helps. Felix takes a long walk, hands buried in his pockets, his earphones blasting music. It’s loud enough to mute his thoughts and the memory of your voice. He’s sure he hasn’t met you before. He would remember that voice. Who are you, then? A coworker? The friend of a friend? Someone Changbin met on a dating app? He desperately wants to know. He might never will, and it will drive him crazy. He’ll just ask Changbin. He’ll find a way to get your name, at least.

Felix stops by the grocery store on his way back home, buys a few things, and then heads back to the apartment building. By now you and Changbin must be done. You might have already left, even. He stops in front of the door, slides a hand through his blonde hair, reminds himself he needs to get a haircut, and enters the apartment.

He freezes in the doorway, holding the door half open, and stares at you.

You’re sitting on the couch, bundled up in one of Changbin’s hoodies, watching something on the television. Your hair is messy, your eyes bright, your legs covered by a blanket. You look up at him, a little surprised, but you quickly smile, a smile that takes up half of your face, that illuminates your traits, that almost blinds him.

Felix feels his legs tremble. You’re so beautiful.

“Hi!” you say. “You must be Felix.”

“Y-yeah…” he stammers, closing the door behind him.

That’s when Changbin appears, coming in from the kitchen, carrying two beers. He’s wearing a t-shirt and gym shorts, his curls a tangled mess.

“Hey, Lix. Home already?”

Felix takes off his shoes and clears his throat. “Yeah, finished early.”

“Good for you,” Changbin smiles, handing you one of the beers. He extends the other one towards Felix, who takes it. “Want to join us? We were going to play something. This is Y/N, by the way. We work together.”

“Oh, right,” Felix nods as Changbin goes back to the kitchen, probably to get himself another beer.

So he has heard about you. The new girl at Changbin’s workplace who he had his eye on. The situation was a bit tricky because Changbin is a manager and you are an employee, but Felix guesses you found a way to make it work, or you decided not to care. Felix remembers Changbin talking about you, the words he used. Sweet. Determined. Captivating.

Watching you now, he understands what Changbin meant.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” you say. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Same, actually,” Felix says, taking a sip from the beer.

“Really? What did Changbin say about me?”

Felix blushes a little, stuttering. “Oh. You know. That you were cute, that he liked you.”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head. “That’s sweet.”

Felix smiles, feeling a little awkward. He can’t help but think about what he heard. Your voice breaking in pieces through your pleasure. Changbin’s hips slamming into yours.

The way you’re looking at him now doesn’t help. There’s something in your eyes, like you want to say something, but you don’t. You have such a direct gaze, such a dazzling smile. You sounded so lovely moaning Changbin’s name, begging him to fuck you deeper. Felix clears his throat.

“I’m gonna go change,” he says. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.”

He gives you one last nod and heads to the kitchen. Changbin is still there, checking something on his phone. He looks up at Felix.

“You all right?” Changbin frowns. “You look a little pale.”

“Just tired,” Felix explains, putting away the food he bought in the fridge.

“Good you came home, then. Are you ok with Y/N being here? I can tell her to go if you want some quiet.”

Felix shakes his head. “I don’t mind. She’s nice.”

Changbin grins, twirling the can of beer in his hand. “She’s something else, Lix. I’ll tell you about it later.”

“I’m happy for you, mate.”

They exchange a quick hug, and as Changbin goes back to the living room, his booming voice echoing through the apartment, Felix heads to his room. He closes the door behind him and lets out a long sigh.

This can’t be complicated. You and Changbin are clearly a thing, so Felix cannot see you in that way. He slams his hand on his forehead, cursing himself. He shouldn’t have stayed to listen to you. He should’ve turned around the second he understood what the sounds you were making were. Now he can’t get your voice out of his head. And it doesn’t help that you are in his living room right now, looking this damn attractive.

Felix takes off his clothes, slips on a t-shirt and grabs a pair of sweatpants. He hears you laugh from the living room. It sounds like you’re arguing about something, crying out Changbin’s name. It sounds nothing like earlier, but it still reminds him of it.

His cock twitches, and Felix curses himself. Maybe if he relieves himself, it will help. It will take you off his mind and he can enjoy his night. He can take a few minutes to do that, no one will suspect it. Then he can take a shower and move on. Deciding it is his best option, Felix lays down on his bed, propped up on his pillows, and takes out his cock from his boxers. It is already getting hard again from the thought of you, and he tugs at it slowly, closing his eyes. Maybe he can even try not to think about you - but as his cock hardens, as his fingers slide around his girth, you’re all that is on his mind.

What if it was his name you moaned? His cock that took you deep, that you begged to feel more of? Your voice in his ear, your moans in his neck? Felix swallows with difficulty, his tip leaking with pre-cum, already losing himself in his fantasy. Those eyes of yours as he would pound into you, hammering your warm, drenched cunt with all his might just so he can hear you louder and louder. Your moans becoming whimpers, your breath hitching in your throat, those lovely notes escaping your lips just for him.

Just for him.

He doesn’t even know you. But the thought of you crying out his name is enough to push him over the edge. Felix bucks his hips into the air, imagining it is you, bites his lip hard enough to draw blood so he doesn’t make a sound. Your voice echoes in the apartment as you laugh and complain to Changbin, and it is such a delightful sound Felix can’t help but come. His cock throbs in his hand, spurting whiteness, covering his stomach.

He holds himself for minutes like that, trying to steady his breathing. Fuck. He hasn’t come this hard masturbating in a long time. And you did that to him.

After a while, Felix stands up on shaky legs and heads towards the shower. He quickly washes, relieved at the feeling of the hot water on his body. Once he’s dressed again, ready to join you and Changbin in the living room, his mind actually feels clear. He was probably just horny. He hasn’t gotten laid in months and it shows. He ought to follow Changbin’s advice and find someone, even just for one night.

“Welcome back,” Changbin tells him when he enters the room.

Felix confidently sits next to you on the couch, grabbing the third controller to join the next game. The beer is good, the company is fun. He laughs, feels relaxed. You’re funny, not at all a sore loser, with a bright personality and a quick mind.

Your hair smells good.

You’re very tactile.

Felix feels fine, even when you touch his arm, even when your thigh brushes his. It seems like he really just needed to jerk off.

After playing for a while, you all start talking, exchanging anecdotes and having debates over silly things. He likes you and the way you think. You bond about your love for freshly washed sheets and caramel popcorn.

When Felix feels his stomach rumble, he stretches on the couch. “Are you guys hungry? I can make curry -”

“Oh shit,” you say suddenly, eyes widening. “What time is it?”

You reach out for your phone and let out a gasp.

“Shit, fuck! I’m so late. I’m supposed to get dinner with my brother…”

You let out a laugh and glance at Felix.

“Rain check?”

Your eyes are the prettiest he has ever seen. Wide, full of light. Felix feels his heart stutter, nods nervously. You stand up in a hurry, and he realizes that all this time, you haven’t been wearing pants. The hoodie is big enough to fall to the middle of your thighs, but it still reveals your legs to him. Smooth skin. Thighs one could dig their fingers into. Felix feels his mouth water a little.

Changbin is laughing.

“She’s a mess,” he says affectionately, shaking his head. “I’d love some curry, though.”

Felix blinks at his friend. “Right. On it.”

You reappear a few seconds later, now wearing a pair of jeans, slipping a sweater over your head and putting on your shoes.

“I’ll see you guys around! Thanks for the beer!”

“Check the two sides of the road before you cross,” Changbin warns with a smirk.

You pull your tongue at him and disappear through the door. The apartment falls silent. Felix glances at Changbin, who is shaking his head.

“Didn’t I tell you, Lix? Something else.”

Despite everything, Felix can’t help but smile. There’s nothing he loves more than seeing his friend happy, whatever his mood, whatever is in his heart. Changbin’s smile is always enough to soothe him, to push away any cloud, to clear his skies.

The roommates stand up from the couch, gather the empty beers and head to the kitchen. Their apartment is not very big, because neither of them could afford a big place in this city, but it’s more than enough for them. They have been living together for years, and have known each other for much longer, so they know exactly how to make it work. The boundaries. The signs. Everything.

Felix gets started on the food and Changbin puts on some music.

“How did it happen, then?” he asks Changbin, who has started cutting carrots. “Spill it.”

Changbin smirks, keeping his eyes on the carrots. “So. Last night, right? Both of us finished late. The last people in the office. We’re complaining about being tired, about not having time to do anything, to meet anyone.”

Felix stirs the chicken broth in the pot, nodding his head.

“Completely out of the blue,” Changbin continues, “she tells me she hasn’t gotten laid in weeks. So I tell myself, this is too good of an opportunity, and I say to her I can help. As a friend would, you know. And just like that we’re fucking in the office.”

Changbin chuckles, and Felix stares at him in awe, trying not to let the images swarm his mind. A part of him wants to ask for details. Where in the office? A desk, a wall? What were you wearing? He chases the thoughts away.

“So are you, like… officially going out?”

“Not really,” Changbin frowns. “Just friends. With benefits.”

“Oh,” Felix says.

“Neither of us want anything more. Nothing complicated. Like, she just texted me earlier today asking if I wanted to hang out.”

Felix takes a sip of his beer and chuckles. “So you’re her booty call?”

Changbin raises his palms. “And happy to be.”

That simple, huh? Felix isn’t sure how he feels. He envies Changbin, but it’s not jealousy. He’s happy for his friend, that he could find someone he connects with, someone he can have fun with. Could he find that for himself? He doesn’t know. He’s never tried.

“I’m proud of you, Lix,” Changbin says suddenly.

Felix turns to him, a little surprised.

Changbin shrugs, smiles affectionately. “The fact that you went home earlier because you didn’t feel too good. That’s progress. Not long ago you would’ve pushed through and buried it deep. It’s good.”

Felix nods slowly. “Thanks, Bin.”

Changbin circles the counter to put the cut carrots next to the pot, and squeezes Felix’s shoulder.

“We’ll get through it. I’m here for you.”

“I know, Bin. I know.”

Felix slams his finger on his phone, repeatedly pressing the screen for his alarm to stop. When his room falls silent again, Felix leans back into his bed, groaning against his pillow. It is cold today, so he draws his comforter all the way up to his eyes, trying to keep them open. He was having a good dream. He can’t remember it, but it was good.

You were in it.

He rolls out of bed after a few minutes and takes a quick shower to finish waking up. He puts on a shirt, a pair of black pants, and a tie. Sometimes he wishes he could go into work in casual clothes, like Changbin, but the firm’s dress code keeps him from having to think too much about his outfits. He brushes his hair although it will be tangled again the second he steps outside, and slips on his rings.

Dragging his feet to the kitchen, Felix is surprised to find you there. You’re not dressed, wearing an oversized t-shirt and pajama pants, neither of which are yours - and your hair sticks up behind your head. It shouldn’t be cute, but it is.

“Morning,” you smile, sipping a glass of orange juice.

“Already up?” Felix says, grabbing a banana from the fruit basket.

He’s not used to seeing you in the morning like this although it is not the first time you spend the night. It only happens occasionally - sometimes you come over to the apartment, sometimes Changbin goes to yours. From what Felix gathers, the both of you don’t see each other that often, but still regularly enough that he has gotten used to your presence in the apartment.

Your relationship with Changbin hasn’t changed. You are friends who, sometimes, have sex together. There are times you see each other without sleeping together, although it’s not the majority. Felix has luckily not walked in on you again, but he has given you space once or twice before, going to the movies or having a meal at a restaurant with coworkers while you were having fun.

Felix feels himself getting out of his slump. He goes to parties, smiles less mechanically, opens himself more. Maybe he’s inspired by the way you are so unabashedly yourself, the way you laugh with your whole chest. He is fond of the conversations you two have sometimes, whether it be small talk or something deeper.

When you are there, Felix can never stop looking at you. Whether you are snuggling up against Changbin on the couch watching a movie or telling a story as you prepare yourself some coffee, Felix can’t get enough of you. You’re fascinating to him, the way you move, the way you talk, the way you are.

He’s given up long ago on ever being able to touch you, but at least he can watch you. He can see Changbin’s fingers grazing your skin, he can catch the lustful glances you sometimes give each other. He thinks about you when he jerks off, but he does it without hope. You’ve just become a fantasy.

He can only think about you, about this arrangement between you and Changbin. There’s no confusion in his mind. He wants it too - but not with anyone else. He wants to fuck you. He wants you to text him so you can hang out. It can’t happen. He wants it too.

He can’t have you.

He has to make his peace with it.

“I have to go into work early today,” you explain.

Felix nods, grabbing the lunch he has prepared the previous night to put it in his bag.

“Aren’t you eating something?” you ask him.

“I always eat on the subway,” he says. “Old habit of mine. And then I grab coffee at work. It’s free there, so…”

“Oh, that’s nice,” you smile. “Maybe I should pester Changbin so he buys a machine for us. Sleeping with the boss should have its advantages, right?”

Felix grins at the playful tone in your voice. “Are you coming to the party next Friday?”

It’s something Felix and Changbin have decided to organize a few nights ago, inviting a few friends to hang out and drink a little too much.

“I’ll be there,” you nod.

“Great.”

Felix closes his bag, ready to leave, although he’d like to stay with you. He always enjoys those moments of talking with you, however briefly. He really likes you. He’s definitely attracted to you. But he knows you’re not looking for anything. Besides, you already have Changbin, and for Felix, that simply means hands off, even if you guys are just friends.

“I’ll head out. Have a good one,” he tells you, taking a second to look at you in the morning sunshine, your eyes on him, your lips looking plump and soft.

“Wait,” you say in a breath, standing up from the stool to approach him.

Felix’s breath catches in his throat as you stop inches away from him, extending your hand towards him. You look breathtaking from up close, and Felix has to try and steady his heart. You smile, replacing the tie around his neck, making sure it is straight. Your hand lingers a little there, on his chest, and he swears he sees your eyes stop on his lips.

“Better. Have a good day, Lix.”

You kiss him on the cheek and he has to quickly walk away before you see him blush and smile like an idiot.

The music is loud, the conversations even more. It’s not so late yet, but people are already getting drunk and high, filling all the empty space of the apartment. There aren’t that many guests, but enough that Felix has lost you in the crowd for a while now.

He hangs in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, drinking his third glass of Jeongin’s deadly punch. I just mixed a lot of things together, Jeongin said when Felix asked what exactly he put in there. I didn’t really know what I was doing. It’s excellent, although it’s much too sweet and will probably mess with a lot of stomachs. But it’s perfect for Felix’s sweet tooth, so he indulges a little.

A girl called Ye-jun is standing next to him, telling him about her work, and while Felix finds that she talks a little too much, she’s still good company. She’s cute, wears a very low cut shirt and keeps batting her eyes at him. She’s into him, that much Felix can gather, and he’s been wondering for the past fifteen minutes if he should do something about it. It would be the ideal moment - a party, a busy apartment, a bit of alcohol. He could bring her into his room and finally get laid, if she is into it. Maybe it could take you off his mind.

Because Felix has been trying to catch a glimpse of you for the better part of an hour. You’re at the party, he knows, because he saw you play beer-pong with Jisung just before he lost track of you. He hopes you’re having a good night. He wishes he could take a better look at the outfit you’re wearing, at the way you braided your hair. He put on his leather jacket that he knows you like but that he rarely wears. Did you notice?

Felix really tried not to have too much of a crush on you, but it’s beyond him at this point. You have this way about you. You push him out of his comfort zone in the best ways. He craves you. Your presence, your voice, your perfume. He’s also not very good at hiding his feelings, so he’s pretty sure Changbin has noticed. It doesn’t look like his friend minds it, but he didn’t ask. Changbin knows to let Felix come to him, but he also isn’t afraid of starting a conversation if Felix resists for too long. So Felix knows he will have to move his ass at some point.

Ye-jun giggles as she starts talking about a friend of hers who is having a destination wedding, and Felix suggests they go into the living room, anxious to spot you. She follows him there and they find a spot near the couch, when he finds you sitting with Changbin. Your legs are thrown on his, Changbin’s arm pulling you close to him. You are making out, unashamedly.

Felix loses track of what Ye-jun is telling him. He stares at your hand, resting on Changbin’s cheek, at your mouth, dancing with his friend’s. Changbin’s hand cups your ass, and you laugh against his lips, slapping his chest playfully. Changbin whispers something in your ear, and then kisses you again.

Felix wonders how your lips feel. If your skin is warm. It weirdly doesn’t feel like intruding now, watching you with Changbin. Is it because he trusts his friend so completely, and now knows who you are? Both of you are his friends. You like each other, you have fun. Felix likes it for both of you. He doesn’t wish he were Changbin. He just wants to get a taste of you, too. The thought crosses his mind. Would Changbin agree?

Hey, Bin. I think I really like Y/N. Would you mind sharing, just for one night?

That’s ridiculous. Changbin would never take him seriously. Would he? Felix shakes his head, bringing himself back to reality, to the party, to Ye-jun. He tears his eyes from you and Changbin, focuses on her. She has a cute nose. Long lashes. She wears lip-gloss. Does it taste like cherry, or maybe strawberries? He decides to find out.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks Ye-jun, who stops talking, looking shocked.

Quickly, however, she smiles and nods.

Felix leans in and kisses her, sliding an arm around her waist to pull her close. Strawberries, definitely, he realizes. He imagines it is you, although it is all wrong, although her lips are not yours, although her scent is not yours. He needs to get over his crush, and not make a fool out of himself. Find your own girl, he tells himself.

Ye-jun is a good kisser, fortunately, and Felix lets his thoughts wander away. A part of him isn’t sure to bring her to his room if she allows it. There’s not much chemistry there - but does there need to be? Changbin would tell him to just have fun. He’ll try. For now, kissing his good. It keeps his body busy, and he can keep thinking about you.

The next day, Felix wakes up in an empty bed, but there’s still the smell of Ye-jun’s perfume in the air although she didn’t stay the night. He had a nice time with her, and he’s pretty sure that she did too.

She’s just not you.

Felix hates himself for thinking that. Who knows, maybe you wouldn’t even be compatible in bed. Perhaps he’s not at all your type. Changbin is just your friend, but you are attracted to him and they look nothing alike. He just wishes he could hear you laugh and moan his name.

It’s already past noon, and Felix is hungry. He meets Changbin in the living room. His roommate has only been up for less than an hour, and the two of them prepare some instant ramen. They eat silently, hungover from the previous night. Eating helps, settles Felix’s stomach and washes away the worst of his headache.

“Did you have a good time?” Changbin asks after a while, wearing a t-shirt that Felix got him for his previous birthday. “With Ye-jun?”

Felix nods. “It was fine.”

“Just fine?” Changbin repeats, arching an eyebrow.

“I mean - no, it was… It was all right.”

“I guess fine and all right is better than nothing.”

Felix shakes his head. “She was really sweet. I guess I just… It wasn’t…”

“Fun?”

Felix’s shoulders drop. “Yeah.”

Changbin nods thoughtfully, and Felix wonders if this would be the right time to talk about you. He doesn’t like not being open with his friend - they usually tell each other everything. Changbin tells him about you sometimes, how you have been feeling, what happened at work, even a few details about your sex life with him. A new position you tried, something he said to you thinking it would be attractive but ended up just being funny, and Felix is happy to listen. Not just because it’s you, but because he cares about both of you.

“That’s why it’s nice to have sex with friends,” Changbin says. “Maybe you could try.”

Felix sighs. “I don’t have that many friends, Bin. And even less I’d want to have sex with. I have you, I have…”

He stops himself and blushes. Changbin stares, visibly waiting.

“I mean,” Felix mutters, “you get the point.”

“Lix,” Changbin says in a soft voice.

“Hm?”

“You like Y/N, don’t you?”

Felix keeps his eyes on his empty bowl of ramen, trying not to blush too hard, and wondering what the best thing to say is. Should he pretend he doesn’t? Should he be honest? He doesn’t want to fight with Changbin. He really doesn’t.

“Why would you say that?” he asks in a small voice.

Changbin shrugs. “Just a feeling. You guys get along great. And when she’s around, I don’t know… you look really relaxed.”

Felix feels his chest tighten a little. This shouldn’t be that complicated.

“I mean… She’s really nice. Fun to be with. And she’s pretty, yeah. I like her, but…” The words escape his lips, not really a lie, not really the truth. “I’m not in love with her or anything.”

Changbin gives him a small smile. “That’s not what I’m asking. Just, if you like her, tell me, yeah? She’s really just a friend to me. We don’t see each other any other way, so don’t hold back for my sake, please.”

A small silence follows, as Felix doesn’t know what to say. Changbin ruffles his hair.

“Just food for thought.”

A few days later, when Felix is home and Changbin is at work, he gets a text from you.

Hey Lix! Are you busy rn?

He takes a deep breath.

No, what’s up?

You explain that you’ve been kindly kicked out of your apartment by your roommate so she can enjoy some quality time with someone. You don’t really have anywhere to go, so you ask Felix if you can come and hang out at his place. Felix agrees - it’s not like he could really say no to you.

You arrive half an hour later, dressed casually, holding two plastic bags worth of snacks. Felix chuckles when he sees you.

“It’s just a way to say thanks,” you say, handing him the bags and removing your shoes. “You’re really helping me out here. I didn’t feel like walking around outside for hours, it’s getting cold.”

“Of course,” Felix says. “I wasn’t doing anything, anyway. Just watching that stupid reality show.”

You gasp excitedly. “Oh, is it the new episode? I haven’t seen it yet.”

Felix rubs the back of his neck. “You want to watch it together? I don’t mind putting it back to the beginning.”

“Oh, really? Thanks, that sounds great!”

Both of you sit down in front of the television with the snacks and you watch the episode. You sit apart on the couch, but the atmosphere feels laid-back. You exchange theories, snicker about the contestants, and Felix smiles so much his cheeks hurt a little.

After two more episodes both of you are a little tipsy and sitting down on the floor, unable to focus on the screen. You sit next to him, so close that your shoulders are touching. Felix is trying not to think about how good you smell, how cute your voice sounds when a little roughened with the alcohol, how he’s come hard just an hour before to the thought of you sitting on his cock.

You smile at him, turning to face him, your knees against your chest.

“Felix, don’t you have someone?”

“No, I don’t,” he says with a frown.

“How about the girl from the party?” you ask.

He chuckles, shaking his head.

“That was just a hookup.”

You nod, biting your lip. “But you’re so handsome. So funny. And kind. And you have those cute freckles. It doesn’t make sense to me that you don’t have someone.”

Felix feels a little hot, and rubs his hand on the back of his neck. He doesn’t understand where all of this comes from - it might be the booze, but neither of you have been drinking a lot. You do not look drunk at all. You’ve never talked about relationships like this.

“I think… I’m just not in the mood for a relationship right now,” he answers eventually, taking the time to choose his words.

“I get that,” you nod. “You could find something casual. Like me and Bin.”

“I… I guess I could.”

“Fuck buddies are the best. It’s not complicated. You hang out, you have a good time, and you get laid.”

“Hm,” he answers, feeling a little dizzy.

You look at him for a long time before you continue. “We could do it, if you want. I don’t think Changbin would mind.”

“Hm.” He stops. “Wait, what?”

He turns to stare at you, eyes wide. Did you really just say that? Or did he imagine it? What the fuck was in those beers?

You giggle, hiding your face in your hands. “Sorry. I couldn’t help it. I just… I think you’re really cute.”

Felix blushes fiercely, unable to look at you. “I… Where is this coming from?” He can’t help but ask. You smile softly, looking at him without a hint of shyness. He tries to find something in your eyes that would explain it, if you are playing a trick on him.

“It’s just…” you play with your fingers nervously. “Changbin told me you thought I was pretty.”

Felix feels a shiver go down his body.

“I mean, that’s all he said,” you quickly add. “I really don’t know what you guys say about me, and that’s not my business, I respect that. And if it’s not true, then -”

“It is,” Felix says. His voice is not as assured as he would like it to be, but he still says it, finding strength in your eyes, in your voice. “I think you’re really pretty.”

You look up at him, smiling, your cheeks a little red. Felix can’t look away, and it seems like neither can you. Slowly, you lean forward, and put a hand against his cheek. Your skin is warm, like he imagined it would be.

“I lied,” you admit, biting your lip.

“W-what?” Felix stutters.

“I said I thought Changbin wouldn’t mind,” you explain. “But actually…”

Felix’s heart beats so fast in his chest he feels like it will burst out. He wants to lean against your hand. He doesn’t know what is happening.

“I know he wouldn’t,” you continue, blushing more at every word you say, removing your hand. Felix wants to grab it and put it back. “Because I asked him. When he told me that you thought I was pretty, I said that I had a little crush on you. So Changbin asked me if I ever thought about having sex with you.”

Felix can’t breathe.

Felix can’t think.

Your eyes are on him, your voice so close to him, your skin on his.

“What did you answer?” he breathes.

You smile. “I said yes.”

Felix swallows. He can’t believe his ears. This can’t really be happening. Surely he is dreaming, surely he will wake up in an empty bed again. He expects it will happen any second. But time doesn’t stop, and he doesn’t wake up. You stay there, close to him. You bite your lip mischievously, resting your hands on your lap.

"You heard us, didn't you? That day."

"What?" Felix frowns.

"The day we met,” you explain. “When I went back to the living room after having sex with Changbin… I saw your briefcase on the couch. It hadn't been there an hour before."

Fuck, Felix thinks. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The briefcase. He had forgotten the briefcase.

He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again. "I - I’m sorry -"

"Don’t be sorry,” you say with a smile. “I don't mind.”

Felix feels dizzy. Is he going to be sick? Should he run away? Why wouldn’t you mind? He was gross, he was wrong, he was -

“Did you like what you heard?"

His head shoots up, his eyes going straight into yours. You look composed although he can see your fingers tapping your thigh. Maybe you’re a little nervous, too. Your face doesn’t show it - just your pink cheeks, your long lashes, your lips still wet from your last sip of beer. Felix realizes there is no use in lying. In denying, either. He wants you to know the truth.

How crazy you make him. How he can’t stop thinking of you.

He nods. “Y-yes.”

Your eyes light up, and his heart tightens at the vision of your lips curving into a smile. Is this making you happy?

“Tell me more,” you whisper.

Something snaps inside Felix’s chest. Fuck it, he thinks. It’s better you know. At least it won’t just linger inside of him. It will be out in the world. You can reject him. It will hurt, but it will be ok. He never expected he could ever have you, anyway.

“I - I think about you all the time.”

You bite your lip and it’s the most erotic thing Felix has ever seen. He feels his cock harden in his pants, and he pushes on it with the pillow on his lap.

“Do you get hard thinking about it?” you ask.

“Yes,” he admits without an ounce of hesitation.

“Do you fuck yourself thinking about fucking me?”

Such lewd words coming out of your mouth, Felix wants to close his eyes and let each of them sink in. If you end up walking away, or even laughing about it, he’ll have their memory. Your voice dripping sweetness in his ear, warming him up, reminding him it’s all worth it. Reminding him his heart is anything but empty.

“Yes,” he nods.

You close your eyes and he thinks, this is it. You’re going to stand up and leave. He has gone too far. But you will know. His craving. His longing. But the words that come out of your mouth are completely different.

“Felix, I’m so fucking wet right now.”

A moan almost escapes Felix’s lips. Did he hear that correctly? Are you really sitting so close to him, telling him you’re wet, because of him? With those reddened cheeks of yours, your breath that slightly hitches between your lips.

“What -” he stammers. “You - it’s - really?”

You nod, a soft hum escaping your lips, and Felix presses the pillow harder. His cock is so hard by now it hurts a little, but he doesn’t care. He’ll endure any kind of pain for you.

“But we can’t - I don’t -”

“I told you,” you say, looking at him with wide eyes. They’re a little humid, your voice almost a whisper. “Changbin doesn’t mind. In fact I’m pretty sure he’d love to join us.”

“He - he would?” Felix asks.

“Hm, hm. But I don’t want to pressure you.”

Felix stops to think for a second. Here you are, all his fantasies come true, ready and willing to have sex with him. It doesn’t feel real, but it is. Felix wants it with all his heart, all his body - but a part of him is blocked. He can’t.

“You really want to?” he says, his shoulders falling backwards.

“Yes. Felix, I want you to fuck me.”

Oh. His cock twitches and he feels terribly dizzy. He breathes out, trying to gather his thoughts, but they’re a complete mess, although something stays crystal clear.

“I think… I think I need to talk to Changbin about it first.”

You smile kindly. “That’s okay.”

“It is?” he asks, arching an eyebrow.

“Of course,” you nod. “You have a really precious friendship. I respect that you want to honor it.”

Felix sighs, shaking his head, unable to take his eyes off you. Where the hell did you come from? It doesn’t really matter. You still made your way to him.

“I like you a lot,” he says with a chuckle.

Your laugh echoes his. “Me too. I’ll wait, Felix, I don’t mind.”

“Well…”

You look at him curiously. Felix isn’t sure it’s a good idea to suggest this to you, but he’s already hard and you are here. It’s like something has unlocked inside of him, and he doesn’t feel like there’s much to lose.

“I mean, maybe we can… Not touch each other, but still have fun?”

Your face lights up again and you smile playfully. “What do you have in mind?”

Slowly, Felix removes the cushion he was holding, revealing his boner. You look down at the bulge, and he puts a hand around it. He hears you swallow, your eyes dark with lust, looking even more pretty.

“Fuck, I’ve been wondering what your cock looks like…” you whisper.

This is a dream. A fever dream.

“You want to see it?” Felix suggests in a low voice.

You nod almost timidly. “Yes, please.”

He takes out his stiff cock from his jeans, his hands shaking. You bite your lip, sitting back down beside him, your eyes fixed on his length. Felix does not comprehend a single thing that is happening.

“So big,” you say. “You would fill me whole, Lix… Would you fuck me hard?”

“So hard,” he breathes. “I wouldn’t stop until you come around me.”

“Fuck,” you chuckle, inhaling deeply as if to steady your breath. “I feel like I’m going insane just thinking about it.”

“Me too,” Felix admits.

You turn towards him a little, and he can see that your eyes keep moving from his face to his cock, and everytime he feels it throb. He is trying to resist stroking it, because you are here, looking at him, wanting him, and Felix can hardly believe it.

“Touch yourself,” you whisper.

“W-what?”

“Touch yourself,” you repeat gently. “Show me how you do it.”

He doesn’t need to be asked another time. It’s like his hand moves on its own. He wraps his fingers around his cock, starts to stroke it. You sigh softly, staring at it, mouth parted, cheeks red. Felix can’t believe what is happening to him. Are you really watching him jerk off right now? And clearly being turned on by it?

“What do you think about, when you do that?” you ask, licking your lips, and they are so wet, so plump, Felix wants to kiss them, he wants to feel them on his skin, around his cock.

Felix whimpers softly. “You. Your mouth. Y-your taste. But mostly…”

“Yeah?”

“Your voice. How you would sound. Your moans, your whispers.”

You smile, your eyes falling into his for a few seconds. “You like my voice?”

“It’s my favorite.”

You giggle softly, looking up at him for a few seconds. He must look like a mess, with his eyes hazy with the alcohol and the lust. You don’t seem to mind. In fact, you can’t stop smiling.

“You look so fucking hot right now, Lix.”

He watches you as you unbutton your jeans, push them down a little, and slide a hand underneath your panties. His cock twitches in his hand, almost exploding on the spot.

“W-what are you doing?” he asks in a slight panic.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it,” you mutter. “I just need - I just need some pressure…”

You close your eyes, moving your fingers in your underwear. Felix imagines them pushing against your soaked folds, teasing your swollen clit, and his hand accelerates around his cock. He’s pretty sure he would die if he could touch you. Taste you. Swirl his tongue inside of you, make you call out his name in pleasure.

“Fuck, yes, that feels so good…” you moan.

“Look at me,” Felix breathes without thinking.

You do. Your eyes flutter open directly on him, as you rub yourself, as he jerks himself. It’s a sight he knows he will never forget. Your red cheeks, your messy hair, your lips raw from biting them. He can’t touch you, but he can watch you.

He is close. So fucking close.

“I’m gonna come,” you tell him in a whisper, and Felix can’t hold it any longer.

His cock throbs in his hand, his cum escaping the tip and staining his t-shirt. You let out a loud moan as you watch, and Felix opens his eyes just in time to see your face contorted in pleasure just before your orgasm washes over you. Your body shakes, soft breaths escaping your lips, and he watches in awe.

It’s like witnessing art itself.

You both stop, breathing heavily, not looking at each other.

And then you do.

You smile. Felix does, too. And then you start laughing.

You lick your fingers clean and button up your jeans. “That was fun. But next time I don’t want to just watch. What do you think?”

Felix grins.

“I couldn’t agree more."

“Changbin?”

He looks up from his computer, hiding a yawn behind his hand. His hair is messy from sleep, curls sticking up, his black hoodie a familiar sight. “What’s up, Lix?”

“Can I talk to you?”

Felix stares at his friend, his heart beating fast in his chest. He holds a mug of freshly made hot chocolate, and there must be something in his tone that indicates it’s not just a casual question, because Changbin nods almost solemnly.

“Anytime. Sit down.”

Changbin designates his bed, and Felix sits on it. It’s only half made, the pillows all over the place, the plushie Felix offered him forever ago sitting in a corner.

“That’s for you,” Felix says, handing him the mug.

Changbin takes it with a thankful smile, arching an eyebrow at the gesture. He stays on his desk chair, turning it around so he faces him. His room is messy, as always, but always comforting. There’s music playing in the background, the smell of chocolate in the air.

“So, hm…” Felix rubs his thighs nervously. “There’s, hm… It’s…”

He had prepared what he was going to say, but now that he is here, he has forgotten everything. He pales a little, stammering, looking for his words.

Changbin chuckles, turning the spoon inside the mug to keep mixing the milk. “Are you finally here to talk to me about Y/N?”

Felix blushes. “Did she tell you what happened?”

Changbin stops and frowns. “What? No.”

“Oh,” Felix says faintly.

“What happened?” Changbin asks.

“Nothing!”

Changbin smirks. “Did you guys fuck?”

“What, no!”

“It’d be fine, you know,” he shrugs. “She’s not my girlfriend or anything.”

Felix raises his palms, taking a deep breath. “Slow down.”

This is not how he imagined the conversation doing, although it is moving in the right direction. Felix chuckles, shaking his head.

“Okay. Here goes. Me and Y/N… talked, and we told each other we are… well… interested in… more.”

Changbin chuckles, taking a sip of the hot chocolate. “You mean fucking.”

“Yes,” Felix blurts out. “I didn’t touch her, though. She told me you told her it would be fine, but I didn’t want to do anything without talking to you first. Directly.”

“Lixie…” Changbin smiles fondly. “I appreciate it, I do. But it’s fine. I told you, she’s not my girlfriend, and she’s a really great person. I think you’d have fun together.”

Felix’s shoulders drop. “You really don’t mind?”

“No, why would I? We’re all friends, and she’s hot, and I totally get you. If this was the opposite situation, would you care if I was interested?”

Felix stops for a second to think about it. Would he? If the roles were reversed, and you were his fuck buddy, would he be bothered by the idea of Changbin touching you as well? The answer suddenly seems obvious. No, he wouldn’t. Not Changbin. Just like he doesn’t mind that Changbin and you were a thing first - in fact, maybe it makes his whole thing even better.

“No,” Felix answers. “Not at all.”

Changbin claps his hand. “There you have it. Although, I gotta tell you…”

He hesitates, puts down his mug, and looks at Felix.

“If it works out, you and her. Maybe one day I could join you? I can just watch. Or if it bothers you, we…”

Felix grins. “It doesn’t bother me. That could be fun. I…” He blushes a little. “I’d love to watch the two of you, too.”

Changbin’s laugh echoes through the room. “You like that too? I can’t believe we’ve been friends this long and didn’t know this about each other. We gotta talk about sex more, man.”

Felix shakes his head with a smile, feeling much lighter. “Then there’s something I gotta tell you.”

He tells Changbin about walking in on them and listening, and both friends burst out laughing. They keep talking until the late hours of the night, their voices breaking out, falling asleep in the living room, buried under blankets and pillows.

Changbin turns to you, smirking amusingly.

“Well, here I go,” he states dramatically. “Going to see a movie. On my own.”

Standing next to Felix, you wave at Changbin excitedly. “Have fun!”

“Hope you enjoy it,” Felix adds with a nod.

Changbin shakes his head and gives you both a dark glare. “You kids be safe.”

You snort. “Fuck off, Bin.”

With a laugh, Changbin closes the door behind him, and Felix waits until he hears his footsteps going down the hallway before he turns to you. He feels a little nervous, because he knows exactly why you are here and why Changbin wanted to leave the both of you alone. It feels awkward. And yet it really doesn’t.

You turn to him, looking gorgeous in your black lace top, your hair let down your shoulders, your eyes wide and shimmering in the dim light. Did you choose your clothes as carefully as him, stressing over every wild strand of hair on your head, applying what seemed like just the right amount of perfume?

“Hi,” you say, and he can hear a hint of nervousness in your voice.

“Hi,” he replies with a nervous laugh. “You, hm… You want a drink?”

You nod, breathing out. “Yeah, good idea.”

You both head towards the kitchen, not even bothering to open a light. The day is slowly fading, filling the room in a dark orange hue, so you see each other well without the crudeness of the neons.

Felix opens a cupboard and takes out two glasses, turning to ask you what you’d like to drink, except you’re suddenly standing close to him, and he knows you are not, in fact, in the mood to waste any time. His heart twists and turns in his chest.

“You look gorgeous,” he tells you, because he wanted to.

You smile. “You too.”

You stare at his lips, brushing them with the tip of your fingers, tracing their curves. Felix shivers, his chest tight, his legs a little unsteady. Is this really happening? Is this really happening to him?

“Felix,” you breathe. “Kiss me?”

He gives a little nod, inhaling slowly.

Just fall, Felix.

Let yourself fall.

He kisses you, and your lips taste of heaven. They’re even softer than he imagined, asking to be devoured, and Felix deepens the kiss almost instantly, greedy for more. You moan against his mouth, putting your arms on his shoulders, one of your hands burying itself in his hair. Felix pushes you against the counter of the kitchen, pinning your body against his. He kisses you like you neither of you need air, like it’s his first and last time.

His hands touch your waist, slide around your figure to your back, his fingers slipping underneath your shirt. Your skin feels soft as he explores it. You sigh as you part your mouth, letting him wrap his tongue around yours. It tastes of caramel and Felix thinks, for a second, he might be losing his mind. He loves caramel. He told you that, once. His cock is already hard, pushing against you, but you do not seem to mind it. In fact, you start to roll your hips a little, causing enticing friction that sends further shivers down Felix’s spine.

“Felix,” you whisper as you gasp for air. “Tell me what you like.”

“You,” he answers quickly, placing wet kisses down your jaw, all the way to your ear, which he bites gently.

You let out a moan, and it’s music to his ears. “I mean - you know what I mean…”

“I know what I said,” Felix says, his lips brushing your neck. “I just want you.”

He’s pretty sure he sees you smile, but he is too focused on kissing every inch of your exposed skin to linger on it. You take one of his hands and place it around one of your tits, and Felix presses his fingers a little, drawing a whimper from your lips. He could stay like this for hours, just discovering your body, your weak spots, your voice going high and low, breathing, moaning, breaking.

“Just don’t stop making noise,” he tells you in a breath, capturing your lips again. “Not ever. Your voice sounds so sweet.”

“I can do that,” you say with a slight chuckle.

His hands wander on your ass, giving it a squeeze, and then he brings you up to sit you on the counter. Removing your shirt, he buries his face in between your breasts, giving them licks and kisses. You breathe out, stroking his hair, pulling his shirt off his shoulders. Felix doesn’t even feel shy under your eyes, like he’s known you forever. Your body is amazing to him, your skin soft, your scent making him delirious.

He can finally touch you, he can finally love you.

You unbutton your jeans and Felix helps you take them off, lifting your butt off the counter, sliding them down onto the floor. He bends down to kiss your legs, something he’s wanted to do since the first day he met you. He’s never been able to forget the sight of you walking away wearing Changbin’s hoodie. He traces his tongue the length of your thigh, stopping close to your underwear, making you shiver.

“Lix…” you whisper. “Don’t tease me too much.”

Unable to help himself, Felix smiles, tugging cheekily at your panties. “You want me to kiss you down there, angel?”

You open your eyes, and they are hazy, filled with desire, making Felix’s head spin. He keeps himself steady, wanting to please you above anything else.

“Please,” you nod.

“So nicely asked,” he answers. “Let’s see how wet you are for me.”

Felix spreads your legs slowly, feeling almost dizzy, leaning to push his lips against the fabric of your panties, just above your clit. He puts a gentle kiss there, feeling your wetness, which sends a rush of blood to his already aching cock. He resists touching himself there, because he knows that he’d come in seconds just on the taste of you.

He pulls out his tongue, gives your panties a quick lick, and you shiver, letting out a soft moan. Your hand comes to rest in his hair.

“M-more, please,” you whimper, rolling your hips almost desperately.

“Angel,” he breathes. “Tell me what you want. Use your voice.”

“I want -” you swallow, looking at him. “I want you to eat me out. I want your lips between my legs, drinking me in.”

“Fuck,” Felix gulps. “How could I say no?”

With trembling fingers, Felix removes your panties and takes a look at your soaked cunt. It is right there, spread and ready for him. He doesn’t stop and think, he just buries his face in you, slurping your juices, drawing his tongue all over your pussy. You buck your hips as he starts to make out with your cunt, his hands keeping your legs apart. Your head falls against the cupboards, your eyes closed, your fingers pulling slightly at his blonde locks.

“Felix, fuck, keep - keep doing that…”

Gently, Felix sucks in your clit, and moves his hand so his fingers tease your entrance.

“Does this feel good?”

You nod feverishly, and Felix can’t help but smile, his chin coated in you, completely drunk on the sound and taste of you.

“It feels so fucking good,” you breathe out. “Give me your fingers, Lix, please…”

He pushes two fingers inside your hole, moving them slowly and steadily, his mouth drinking in the rest of your pussy. Looking up for a second, he sees your eyes closed tightly, your breasts moving as you arch your back, your nipples pointed in pleasure. His cock throbs in his pants, almost hurting him, but he doesn’t care.

With his fingers inside of you, he can feel you clenching, coming close to your climax. He doesn’t stop, kissing your pussy even more fervently, and you whimper.

“Lix, I’m going to… You’re gonna - you’re gonna make me come.”

“Let me hear you, angel,” he tells you before delving back into your cunt, accelerating his movements, swirling his tongue around your swollen clit.

You come all at once, your body shaking against him, your walls sucking his fingers in. Felix grins, not stopping until you breathe out deeply, your body relaxing, your high slowly coming down.

He removes his fingers and stands back up, his jeans uncomfortably tight, but he gently takes your face in his hands to kiss you. Your skin is sensitive, he can feel it - you shiver a little as he strokes your arm. You put your arms around him then, pulling him close, and Felix sighs. You’re so warm.

“That was amazing, Felix,” you breathe in his ear.

“I’m glad,” he answers, playing with a strand of your hair.

“Now will you let me make you feel good?” you ask, leaning back to look into his eyes.

He nods, taking in the sight of you, looking fucked out, your hair messy, your skin glowing with sweat. You undo the button of his jeans, put them down, and he helps you remove them. Once he’s naked like you, his cock springing free, you pull him back to you and wrap your fingers around his length.

Felix’s breath hitches, unaccustomed to the touch, and it feels so incredible to know it is you touching him, he knows he can’t last too long. He already has to focus not to blow as you stroke his cock slowly, smearing it in pre-cum, feeling the hardness.

You kiss his neck, sending shivers down his spine, your breasts pushed against his chest, your nipples tickling his skin.

“So hard,” you breathe. “Your cock feels so nice, Lix. I can’t wait to have it inside of me.”

“Can I fuck you?” he groans, unable to wait any longer.

“Any way you want.”

He gives you a long, dark look, and gently removes your hand. He needs to have your voice right there against his ear, so close it becomes a part of him. So he slips on the condom he brought from the bathroom, guides his cock to your entrance, and enters you slowly.

You gasp, but he buries himself inside of you easily, aided by your slickness. One of his hands grabs your waist, the other settles on the back of your neck. You feel like everything he dreamed of and more.

“Fuck, that feels good,” you say in his ear, and he can hear your smile.

“Can you say my name?” he asks a little shyly, starting to move his hips, fucking you slowly.

You kiss his earlobe, brush your lips against his ear. “Felix.”

He pounds into you, moaning loudly.

“Felix,” you repeat. “Keep fucking me, please.”

He thrusts his hips into you, again and again, as you repeat his name. Harder, Felix. Fuck me, Felix. Felix. Felix. Each time it becomes more and more of a whimper, turning into whispers, then into moans, and into whimpers again. He’s fucking you vigorously, unable to slow down, unable to stop, intoxicated, your voice leading him on, pushing him to the edge.

“I’m close,” he grunts in your ear.

“Felix,” you breathe. “I want to see your cum.”

“Want me to come on you, angel?”

“P-please. Fuck, I’m gonna come again if you keep fucking me like that -”

You come again, shuddering against him, and the clench of your walls brings him to his climax. Felix hurries to remove the condom, strokes his cock a few times and comes on your leg, spurting his seed there. You look down at the mess as he breathes out, completely exhausted but still in his high. His forehead falls against yours, and you kiss his cheeks, his lips, the bridge of his nose.

It takes a minute or two for him to start moving, his body feeling both drained and revitalized. He looks at you, his eyes heavy, in awe of what has happened. Did he just fuck you on the kitchen counter and came on your leg? Is that him, dripping there? Is that you, smiling at him, your eyes glassy and your lips raw with kissing?

He could come again just at the sight.

He pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear, kisses you gently. You look back at him, your eyes sparkling.

“Watching was fun, but this is better, isn’t it?” you smile.

Felix laughs. “Definitely.”

Changbin comes back home a few hours after, holding what looks like an empty take out coffee from the place around the corner. He closes the door slowly, taking a long look at the two of you. Felix gives him a wave, not removing his arm from around your shoulders. You do not move from where you are, huddled up next to him, your nose in the crook of his neck. Changbin seems to relax at finding you just cuddling on the couch in front of the television although he texted Felix ten minutes before to make sure it was “safe” to come home.

“Hey, kids,” he says with a knowing smirk, removing his shoes.

Felix rolls his eyes but he can’t stop smiling. “Hey, Bin.”

“How was the movie?” you ask him.

“Not too bad,” Changbin shrugs. “But it had a horrible ending.”

“Ugh, I hate those,” you say, wrinkling your nose.

Changbin walks over to the both of you, ruffling Felix’s hair on the way, and sits on the other section of the couch, giving both of you a long look. Felix blushes a little, but he feels too calm and content to be bothered.

“So…” Changbin starts. “Did you… have fun?”

You start laughing and the noise makes Felix’s chest vibrate. He grins at the sound, at the sensation, and Changbin chuckles.

“Got my answer,” he states. “I won’t ask about it too much, but just give me one detail. For curiosity’s sake.”

Felix exchanges a long look with you, and you smirk. You glance at Changbin, your hand resting on Felix’s stomach, under his shirt. You are caressing his skin with your thumb.

“Kitchen,” you say.

Changbin scoffs. “I hope you cleaned up after yourselves, then. If my eggs taste weird tomorrow I’m blaming you.”

“You can blame the old pint of milk you still haven’t thrown away,” Felix points out.

“Oi. I let you guys get laid, you could throw it away for me.”

“What does this have to do with an old pint of milk?”

“Everything,” Changbin states.

You sigh. “Oh my God, I will throw it away if you guys don’t shut it. It’s my favorite part.”

Felix and Changbin exchange a look and giggle silently. There are a few seconds of silence where the three of you look at the movie on the television. You are mouthing the lines of dialogue and Changbin is smiling affectionately at you. Felix is not really paying any attention to the movie - he is focusing on you, your weight on him, your smell mixing with yours. It feels even better to have Changbin close. All his favorite people here. He does not feel empty. He does not feel cold.

“Should I leave?” Changbin asks after a while.

Felix gets where he comes from. It’s not bitter, it’s not disappointed. It’s careful. He’s testing the waters, making sure he’s not invading your space - but Felix quickly shakes his head.

“No reason for you to,” he answers.

You frown and turn to Changbin. “Stay, Bin.”

You extend a hand and Changbin takes it with a smile, shuffling closer.

“Want some caramel popcorn?” you offer, handing him the half full bowl of the popcorn you made earlier.

Changbin scrunches his nose, leaning against your shoulder. “Hell, no. Only you two like that stuff.”

Felix looks down at you. You are already looking at him with a smile.

• author’s note: Caramel popcorn is the best I've been craving it for days!! First time in my life I disagree with Seo Changbin!!!!!! Anyway. Did I ever tell you how much I adore Changlix? I need to write about them more. A lot more. So this is a little thing. I hope you guys enjoyed it ♡ My next fic will be a series, I hope to announce it soon!

• permanent taglist: @ughbehavior ; @upallnight-s ; @changbinluvr ; @rosexjimin ; @nasiaisan ; @lotus-dly ; @cb97percent ; @j-0ne25 ; @hwan-g ; @jhopesucker ; @tanyas97 ; @septicrebel ; @imtoooyoungforthisshit ; @sikebishes ; @sai-kida134 ; @sstarryoong ; @oxviolentheartxo (let me know if you want to be added or removed)

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kaleidohscopic · 10 days

Text

IN THE DYING SUMMER SUN — BBH

PAIRING: baekhyun x female reader SUMMARY: a weekend up at the beach house might just be enough to make you crack and come clean about your little (big, fat) crush. alternatively, park chanyeol is possibly the worst wingman ever. GENRE: friends to lovers! au, crush! baekhyun, romance, fluff, a pinch of angst, pining, humour WARNINGS: swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension!!, slightly suggestive, reader and baekhyun are both kind of clueless tbh WORD COUNT: 9.4k NOTE: happy birthday baekhyun!! thought it would be fitting to start off this blog with a fic for bbh on his birthday. this was supposed to be a 4-5k piece of fluff but somehow it ended up being double that and a lot more serious than i originally intended (oops?). kinda nervy posting such a long fic for the first time ever so feedback is most certainly welcome and i hope you enjoy!

“You definitely rigged this.”

Chanyeol only rewarded you with a shit-eating grin.

The scrap of paper couldn’t weigh more than a few grams, but in your hands, they felt like the barbell plates at the gym that he could never leave alone. Especially since a certain someone was also holding another scrap of paper with ‘ground floor twin room’ hastily scrawled across it.

You shook your head vehemently, fixing the tall boy with a dagger-like stare that he seemed completely unfazed by. “I demand a redraw.”

“Which is not going to happen,” was his gleeful response. “We all agreed — no take-backs before picking.” The hat that you had all drawn out of, now empty, was tossed on the coffee table as everyone else began to move their bags into their freshly chosen rooms. Somewhere down the hallway, Jongin tripped over the wheels of his suitcase, his pained groan and Kyungsoo’s laughter bouncing against the walls of the AirBnb.

“Besides,” Chanyeol continued, hand coming up to ruffle your hair, “if I had actually rigged it, you should be thanking me. I’d be doing you a favour.” He gestured towards Baekhyun, who was busying himself with packing his hoodie back into his duffle bag, hopefully oblivious to the fact that the two of you were conspiring about him less than three metres away.

“Yeah, say it any louder, why don’t you. And no, that wasn’t an invitation,” you warned, catching the wicked glint in Chanyeol’s eyes. He opened his mouth, as if to make good on your request and let the whole house know, only to choke back a groan at the elbow you shoved into his side. Behave, said the glare that you shot at him. His replying smile was anything but reassuring, before he picked up his bag and headed upstairs.

That was what you got for getting a little too drunk at Jongdae’s housewarming get-together last month and accidentally slipping up about your big, fat, debilitating crush on Baekhyun after the third glass of pinot noir in one night. If it had been anyone else made aware of your juvenile secret, you would probably be feeling a little less uneasy — but it just had to be the one person who couldn’t keep his mouth shut to save his life. Not to mention Park Chanyeol was a terrible wingman, having heard about the ridiculous escapades he put Jongdae through before he finally cuffed his girlfriend. Lucky for you, you were now getting to experience it first-hand.

“I can ask Jongin to swap, if you really don’t want to room with me,” came a soft voice from your right. Baekhyun regarded you with an expectant, if somewhat hesitant expression.

“No, it’s okay,” you replied, trying your best to mask the panic that was fighting its way into your voice. It would be just your luck, that he would think your reluctance to share a sleeping space with him was because you didn’t like him enough, and not that you liked him a little too much. The slight furrow in his brow seemed to melt away with your words. “I just wanted the big room with the queen bed, but somehow Chanyeol got it. I seriously think he did something to these,” you said, waving your slip of paper that matched the one he was holding.

Come to think of it, you and Baekhyun had also been the last ones to draw out of the hat, since Chanyeol had insisted on going counter-clockwise around the dining table. How he managed to game the room allocations was beyond you, but you were now almost certain that he did.

“It’s good that he’s by himself though. The snoring would drive anyone mad,” Baekhyun mused, and you had to chuckle in agreement.

“That time he passed out at my place after Saturday drinks…I genuinely thought I’d end up with a murder charge that night.” you said, chest squeezing at the way his eyes crinkled into crescent moons at your words. You busied yourself with your own bag, hoping he wouldn’t see the dumb smile on your face, and be able to tell how pleased you were to have teased a laugh out of him. Laughter was not something he usually withheld — he gave it freely, if not a little too generously — but it always did a funny thing to your heart when you were the cause of it.

“Definitely can’t have that. Pretty face like yours would not last a day in jail.” With one hand around his own duffle, he draped the free one around your shoulders, letting the warmth of his arm wrap around you as you headed down the corridor to the room you’d be sharing for the weekend.

Having a crush on Baekhyun was no big deal. Probably even normal, if his college days were anything to go by. But what made it so debilitating was things like this — the little comments he’d throw around that could easily be passed off as just friendly flirting if you were so inclined, though you sometimes let yourself imagine his intentions came more from the flirting than the friendly part. He was a generally touchy person too, never missing a chance to pat Kyungsoo’s ass when the opportunity arose, but sometimes the brush of his fingers against the inside of your wrist felt a little too affectionate for two people united solely through friendship, even if you were the only one who internally crossed that line a while ago. It was things like this that made you question, every once in a while, if your feelings were as one-sided as you believed. Most of the time though, you chalked it up to his disposition, his easy-going magnetism, and concluded that whatever signals you thought he was sending were merely due to your overactive imagination running wild with hopes that he felt the same way.

“Dibs left,” he said, plopping down on the twin bed closer to the window. His arms raised above his head in a long, yawning stretch, revealing a thin strip of skin at the waistband of his jeans. Just the sight of it was enough to control your blood, sending a rush of it to your face, and you internally cursed yourself for being so weak to such a small thing. It was obvious you had been alone for way too long. He was too comfortable to notice the flush on your cheeks, eyes shut and enjoying the tension leaving his body after the long drive up.

You sat yourself down carefully on the remaining bed, noting the gap between the two mattresses. Whether you wanted to push them together or against opposite walls of the room, you couldn’t be sure. It was hard to form coherent thoughts when he turned to you with a boyish playfulness that curled the corner of his mouth upwards.

“You’re not going to sleepwalk your way into my bed, are you?” he asked, chin in his hand, a teasing glint in his eyes. You tried hard to catch yourself from choking on your own saliva.

“I’ve been known to kick in my sleep,” was your reply, voice much more nonchalant than you thought you were capable of, given that he had just planted the seed of the two of you sharing a twin mattress that was definitely not big enough to lie down on without touching in at least three different places. The glint in his eyes faded immediately, giving way to thinly-veiled concern at the threat underlying your words.

“I was kidding,” you clarified when he sat up and started to back away from you. “At least, I haven’t done that for fifteen or so years. But you never know, it might come back again tonight, when you’ve finally fallen asleep, and then BAM! Foot to the face. You better sleep with your eyes open, Byun Baekhyun,” you warned, giggling at the realisation dawning over his face before his pretty features settled into mock annoyance.

“You just think you’re so funny, don’t you?” He was on all fours now, making his way towards you with a wolfish grin. In no time, he had crawled over the gap between your two beds and suddenly his fingers were prodding at your ribs. It was a well-planned tickle attack, and one you had no chance of escaping from, since his legs had caged you in and the rest of him was pinning you down. You were helpless against the ambush of his fingers, succumbing to them with gasping giggles, punctuated by desperate pleas for him to stop. He showed no intention of letting up, fingers digging even deeper into your waist.

If you were going to die like this, you thought, at least you’d be dying while lying under him.

“When you two are done canoodling, we’re going to go set up on the beach,” came a voice from the doorway. Baekhyun’s merciless fingers paused, and the two of you looked back to see Chanyeol’s amused face at the foot of your bed, smirking like he knew some big secret that neither of you were privy to. God, you were seriously regretting that third glass at Jongdae’s new apartment last month.

Baekhyun turned back to you, your noses almost touching, and you could feel the air from his exhales fanning against the skin of your cheek. There was a mole just above the corner of his mouth that you don’t think you had ever noticed before. Warmth from his jean-clad legs radiated into your hips and meandered up and down your spine, and suddenly the late summer air around you was becoming sticky and heavier than usual.

As if just now noticing the proximity you were in, he slowly untangled himself from your limbs, making sure not to crush you in the process. You sat up, still breathless, having just calmed down enough for full inhales again, but so was he, you noted. Surely tickling wasn’t that exertive of an activity? Or maybe you’d put up a better fight than you had thought.

“Don’t forget your towels,” was the last thing Chanyeol said before he ducked out, yelling at Jongin to grab the beach umbrellas, not the rain ones. There were a few seconds just filled with the sounds of your slowing breathing.

“I’m going to go get changed,” Baekhyun said, turning around to dig through his bag for his swim shorts. You couldn’t see his expression, but you could hear the slight tremble in his voice that indicated he hadn’t quite recovered from whatever was afflicting him. “We’ll probably just be setting up the umbrellas, so no rush, just come down when you’re ready.” As he turned around to head towards the bathroom, he flashed you that familiar smile, the one that always resulted in one of your own to mirror his, and set you at ease again.

“And make sure you bring your sunscreen,” he added, before disappearing down the hallway. You watched him go, throwing yourself back onto the bed with a frustrated groan once you were sure he was out of earshot. Two whole days and nights in this tiny room, in the languid death of summer, with his body just an arm’s length away from yours — you had no idea how much of this you could stomach and emerge with your sanity intact.

This was shaping up to be the longest weekend ever.

The afternoon sun was unforgiving when you emerged from the house. Though you had thrown on a cover up before leaving, you could feel the heat tingling on the surface of your skin through the thin cotton. From the top of the bushy path leading down to the beach, you could already hear the tell-tale signs of a competition brewing between the boys, even if you couldn’t quite see them yet. A few steps down and you could make out their figures, managing to catch the view of Chanyeol flipping backwards off the jetty before plunging into the water, where the rest of them were bobbing around. Baekhyun’s voice floated above the others the way it always did when he was teasing, liltingly distinguishable, though perhaps that was only because you were now so attuned to it that other voices naturally started to sound more foreign.

It was hard to pinpoint exactly when he went from Baekhyun, your friend who tended to get a little too rowdy after half a can of beer, to Baekhyun, your friend who made your heart pick up a little faster when you thought of him. One day his hiccuping laugh was teetering on the edge of obnoxiousness, and then all of a sudden it became endearing to hear the raw joy in his voice. If you knew exactly when the switch flipped, maybe you’d be able to retrace your steps and stop yourself from ever setting off down this path to end up where you were now, watching the sunlight glisten against his wet face with an overwhelming affection, wondering what it would be like to be the private audience of his radiant smile everyday.

You set your things down on the sand next to the pile of clothes and towels that were already there, recognising Chanyeol’s hat somewhere in the mix. The beach umbrella that Jongin had set up was already beginning to lurch towards one side, the brim rather close to the ground. Fixing it back in place and digging it into the sand a little deeper, you let out a fond laugh — some things, like the way Jongin used his hands like they weren’t his own, would stand the test of time.

You had hoped that your friendship with Baekhyun would be one of those things, but the more time you spent casting longing glances his way when he wasn’t looking, the more you weren’t sure if you could ever recover from his rejection if you ever did decide to be honest about your feelings towards him. So you did your best to bury them, content to enjoy his company in the way you were both familiar with, afraid that if they did surface, they’d taint your friendship with something unpleasant and irreversible. If you couldn’t own the sun, at least you could still revel in its warmth.

Satisfied with the position of your towel underneath the shade of the umbrella, you looked back at the water, returning Baekhyun’s sweeping wave with a small one of your own. It was just enough of a distraction for Chanyeol to turn around as well, and Baekhyun seized the opportunity to dunk him, gleefully howling as the taller boy’s head disappeared below the waves. Before Chanyeol could resurface and enact his retaliation, Baekhyun was already making his escape, swimming towards the shore with fearful determination. Chanyeol made to follow, but upon seeing you sitting on the beach with your eyes fixed on Baekhyun’s approaching figure, he thought better of it, turning back around to continue the diving evaluation as Jongin took his turn to leap off the jetty.

With an amused smile, you watched as Baekhyun hurried out of the ocean, wet hair flying in all directions and flicking droplets of seawater across the sand. The water trickled down the planes of his bare torso, and you tried to keep your eyes away from the firmness of his pec, or the flexing movements of his abdominals as he made his way over to you. One thing was for sure — the gym sessions with Chanyeol were paying off.

When he finally reached you, Baekhyun slumped onto your towel, ignoring your protests for him to stay away, and proceeded to soak you in the remaining water that was still clinging to his body. The skin of his stomach was cool against your calf, and he giggled delightfully at your attempts to push him off to avoid getting more water onto your clothes.

“Stop trying to fight it, you’re going to get wet when you go in anyway,” he said, finally rolling off you.

“I wasn’t planning on going in. I’m scared you’ll try to drown me,” you huffed, lightly flicking some sand onto his shoulder with your toe. He turned back around, chin cradled in his left hand, and flashed you a boyish smile.

“I would never do that,” he said, though the glint in his eyes was anything but convincing. “Besides, what are you going to do at the beach if you’re not getting in the water?”

You picked up the book nestled in between your shoes and waved it at him. “Read, of course.” He regarded the worn paperback with amused disbelief, eyebrows slightly raised. It was only when you flipped the book open to the paperclip you’d been using as a bookmark that he realised you were serious, and let out a scoff that was laced with something akin to fondness.

“You are such a cliche. Pretty girl reading at the beach? Unbelievable, seriously,” he said, before wriggling his head into your stomach, relishing in your shocked squeals as your cover up began to dampen again. His mischief had left a few wet patches on the fabric that were beginning to stick to your body in the uncomfortable fashion of late summer. You reached for the hem, pulling it off not without some struggle, and immediately felt the sun kissing against your bare shoulders. Though you were mostly covered by the shade from the umbrella, the last thing you wanted was a blistering sunburn where the straps of your tote bag usually rested, so you grabbed the sunscreen you had so diligently packed and began applying it on the parts of your skin that were exposed.

Baekhyun had gone uncharacteristically quiet. If you had been paying attention to him instead of so attentively rubbing the cream into the underside of your knee, perhaps you would have noticed the way his eyes lingered on you for a little longer than would have been polite. They followed the path your hands took, from the expanse of skin below your neck, across your stomach, and down the length of your legs.

“Do you want me to do your back?” he blurted, his voice a little more strained than usual. He was wearing an odd expression on his face, something you couldn’t quite place, but it was different from the usual playful one you were most well acquainted with. Nevertheless, you agreed, passing him the tube and turning around so your back was facing him.

His fingers were still cold from the water, and you jumped when they first made contact with your skin. He only laughed, squeezing both hands around your shoulders to hold you still before he got back to work again.

The first graze of his hands across your shoulders was tentative. You could feel the heat of him behind your back, the smell of salt and sun clinging to the air around you. His breaths fanned the skin on the back of your neck, sending goosebumps down your arms and legs despite the thick heat of the afternoon. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. Slowly, his hands made their way down to your lower back, and it was then that you realised you might be in trouble. His hands pressed against the grooves of your spine, curving ever so slightly around your waist, and if you shivered, he pretended not to feel you tremble in his grasp.

It was when his fingers slipped underneath the ties of your bikini top that the alarm bells began to go off in your head. His movements were hesitant, fingers stuttering in their dance across your skin before they gingerly pulled the strings aside to spread the sunscreen between the top and bottom halves of your back. It was too much, feeling his warmth, knowing there was only an inch of space between your bare torsos, having his hands on you doing such a thorough job with the task he had assigned to himself. When the tips of his fingers brushed the side of your ribs, just under the edge of the fabric, you couldn’t help the breathy noise that escaped your lips.

“Actually, I think I left something back at the house,” you said suddenly, words hurriedly running into each other as they tripped over your tongue on the way out of your mouth. Twisting away from his dangerous touch, you bolted to a stand and hoped he’d attribute the pinkness of your cheeks to being outside in the brightness of the afternoon. Your words came out staggered, the slight tremble in your voice betraying the composure you were fighting so hard to maintain.

Baekhyun’s gaze was careful, if not a little confused. The more his eyes ran over you, the more you were sure that the depth of your feelings towards him were beginning to surface on your face. Another second and he’d be able to tell, he’d figure out the little secret you’d been trying to conceal for the last couple of months. And then you wouldn’t be able to deny its existence anymore.

So you fled, tossing a rushed promise to be right back over your shoulder before scurrying up the bushy path again. Away from the scrutiny of his eyes, away from the truth you did not want revealed to the world. The ghost of his touch lingered between your shoulder blades and along the ridges of your spine, your body already committing to memory the caress of his skin against yours. You realised then, that it would not be possible to continue living on as usual, now that you knew the taste of his closeness, as fleeting as it may have been.

“I think you should just go for it.”

Your fingers tightened around the glass at his words. Chanyeol’s tone was light and pragmatic, speaking as if the act of unfurling your heart were nothing more than a decision about whether to have steak or pork belly for dinner.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you scoffed, bringing the bottle to your lips.

“I’m serious though,” he continued, nudging your arm with the lip of his own beer. “I think you should just tell him, and see what he says. And stop expecting the worst. You’ll never know how things could turn out if you never do anything.”

You let your head fall back to lean on the doorframe you were both standing against, gazing out at the patio that had begun to darken following the sunset. Baekhyun and Jongin were placed at opposite ends of the ping pong table that had been wheeled out of the living room after dinner, neither seeming to mind the soft prick of grass at the underside of their bare feet. Whether the game was proceeding well was difficult to deduce, since both were sporting wide grins and rosy cheeks, courtesy of the glasses in their hands — but judging by the cluster of orange balls around Baekhyun’s feet, you had an inkling that victory would not be his. He didn’t seem to mind yet, laughing gleefully as Jongin swung his racquet too hard and launched a ball over the fence.

“Not everyone is as good as you when it comes to talking about their feelings, you know,” you said, fixing Chanyeol with a knowing look that was halfway between admiration and resentment. If you only had his courage of expression, perhaps you would’ve put an end to your suffering a while ago. Ripped the band-aid off cleanly instead of peeling away at it, day by day, bit by bit, until it was hanging on by the last of its adhesive. You weren’t sure how much longer your resolve could last, if it would even survive this weekend without snapping under the force of your attraction.

He only shrugged. “You can’t get good without actually doing it.” You pondered his words in the short silence that settled while you both took another sip. He was right, of course, you knew that, but it didn’t make hearing it any easier.

“I think… I’m just scared,” you began slowly. Realising you were about to put his advice into action, Chanyeol turned to you with reassuring and patient eyes, waiting. You took a deep breath, swinging the contents of your bottle back and forth, and continued, “I’m scared that if I do tell him, it’s going to change our relationship and then I’ll lose him completely. At least if I don’t say anything, he’s still my friend, and I get to keep being in his life.”

He regarded you for a moment, brows furrowed thoughtfully, as he decided on his next words. It was no easy feat to try on honesty the way you just did, having so carefully avoided it for your entire life, and he was well aware of it. The slight tremble in your hands was a dead giveaway.

“And I think that’s completely understandable,” he finally said. “There’s always going to be a trade-off, no matter what you choose to do. But I guess you have to weigh up which one means more to you, and if you’re willing to take that risk on the chance that it does work out between you two. I’m only telling you what I think you should do. You’re the one who knows your own feelings the best.”

Another silence fell over the two of you again. Your bottle was nearly empty now, the beer inside already lukewarm from being out of the cooler for too long. Jongin let out a cheer as the ball sailed over his head, landing far behind him on the grass and ignoring Baekhyun’s flagrant attempts at contesting the point. Even under the patio lights, he was still so pretty, cheeks pink and glowy, the shape of his mouth so endearing as it settled into a pout. By now, you were used to the longing, and paid it no mind as it filled your chest with a bittersweet warmth.

“Aren’t you two best friends though?” you asked, the thought suddenly occurring to you. “You’re telling me you don’t know anything about how he feels about… whatever is going on?” The look you gave Chanyeol was suspicious, but he stood strong, resisting your prying eyes.

“I wouldn’t be much of a best friend if I went around blabbing to you about his feelings, would I?” was his response, accompanied by an elusive smile. There was something in his words that lingered in your mind, some important detail you felt as if you had overlooked, but his amused expression gave you nothing to hold onto. “You’re both so clueless,” he chuckled after a beat of your thoughtful silence, downing the rest of his drink.

Baekhyun was skipping over now, having officially lost 18-21 to Jongin, who was heartily celebrating his victory with a series of hoots and giggles. He headed straight for you, hair all messed up from running his hands through it during the game, and a rosy flush to his face, though you weren’t sure if that was from the game or the glass that he had left at the ping pong table. When he wrapped his arms around you and buried his head in your shoulder, you knew that it was probably the latter.

“I lost the game,” he whined, petulant and firm against you. His hair tickled your chin, and you could smell the faint scent of his shampoo from his shower after the beach.

“Are you drunk already?” you asked, trying to mask your breathlessness at his proximity with a few giggles. Baekhyun’s affinity for physical contact was the worst — or best, depending on how you looked at it — when he had alcohol in his system, and it didn’t take much to push him past the borders of sobriety. His ache for touch and affection was most often relieved on you, and you always obliged, gladly and readily letting him take whatever it was he wanted.

The tip of his nose brushed back and forth against your skin as he shook his head. “Just a little, tiny bit,” he said, voice muffled, and you felt the warmth of his breath through your t-shirt.

“Where’s the love for your best friend?” Chanyeol teased, the only one amused at the way Baekhyun had dived straight into your arms without even sparing him a glance.

The boy in your arms didn’t even falter, only snuggling further into you. “You know it’s because she’s my favourite,” he murmured, lips skimming your collarbone ever so softly as he spoke. The panic onset was instantaneous, and you prayed he was too drunk to pick up on the sudden rapid thundering of your heartbeat inside your chest. You tried to look at Chanyeol for help, but he was setting off across the patio, taking up Jongin on his invitation for a match with the promise that he would wipe the floor with the younger boy.

Baekhyun only hummed contentedly, oblivious to the havoc he was wreaking inside you, tightening his hold around you when you made a half-hearted attempt to wriggle out of his arms. His pink lips set into another rounded pout, brows slightly creased as he pulled back to look at you.

“You know you’re my favourite, right?” he asked, trying to be convincing despite the slight slur to his words. You could only nod, letting a small smile twist the corners of your mouth upwards. Whether he realised or meant what he was saying, you weren’t all that concerned, simply happy to bask in the warmth of his full attention knowing it was probably just nonsensical babble brought on by the drink in his belly. It was so much easier to be close to him when he was like this, hazier, and sure to forget most of what he had said the morning afterwards. It didn’t hurt that you were also starting to feel a little blurrier around the edges, the beer from earlier making its way through your system and leaving behind a pleasant fuzziness that made it all the more tempting to come clean about your feelings. But you weren’t quite there yet, and you had no plans to get to that point tonight.

Seemingly satisfied with your answer, he curled back up into you. With your hands around his back, you could feel the steady rhythm of his heart, the comfortingly even beat of it through his rib cage. It was so easy to imagine this was the way it had always been, and would always be, so easy to slip into the fairytale you often found yourself fabricating when your one-sided longing became too much to contain. It would be so nice if you could live in this moment forever, you thought. But was this small pocket of peace worth risking your entire friendship?

“I wish you’d stop running away from me,” he murmured, or at least that’s what you thought he said. It was a little difficult to concentrate when his lips were grazing your skin again, lightly feathering across your neck as the words shaped his mouth on their way out of it.

And then you felt it, the unmistakable and deliberate press of his lips against your collarbone, the gentle pressure and the slight moisture on your skin from it searing through you like a lit trail of gasoline. This time, he had to have heard the stilted gasp that escaped your mouth.

He lifted his head slowly to look at you again, searching your face with glassy eyes — for what, you weren’t quite sure. The only things you were sure of right now were the fiery burn in your cheeks, and the deafening pounding of your heart that echoed between your ears.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, though his expression was nowhere near as apologetic as his words would have you believe. If anything, his gaze on you was almost daring, waiting to see how you’d respond, if you’d shrink back into yourself like you always did when he got too close and crossed that invisible boundary you only danced around. If you’d run away from him the way he had just said he wished you wouldn’t. Or if you’d let him push you over too, just this once.

Seeing the hesitation in your face, he slowly extricated from you, retracting his limbs and warmth until they hung limply by his sides again. Scratched the back of his head. Let his eyes wander around the patio and settle on anything except for you.

“I’m going to see if Kyungsoo needs any help with cleaning up,” he said quietly, not waiting for your response as he headed back into the house. The drink had made his gait unsteady, and you felt him sway against the doorframe as he brushed past you. A chilling unease began to settle in the pit of your stomach as you watched him go, the shape of his back getting smaller and smaller as he was swallowed by the light of the living room.

Try as you might, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted, and that there was a possibility it had not been in the direction you had hoped for.

Perhaps the second glass of wine had been a little overambitious, you realised, staring up at the ceiling of your shared bedroom. Kyungsoo had been so excited about the 2012 Shiraz he had brought from home, pouring you a full glass with an enthusiasm he didn’t often display. You couldn’t say no, and you didn’t protest when he refilled it a short while later. If he noticed the faster-than-usual speed with which you drained its contents, he did not show it. Whilst alcohol tended to put people to sleep, it had the opposite effect on you, dangling sleep in front of you like a carrot you could never get a hold of easily, or for long. That second glass of wine was the reason you were lying in bed, not soundly asleep like you wished, but keenly aware of every breath and every movement from the other occupant of the room, only an arm’s length away from you.

Baekhyun had spent most of the night with Chanyeol out on the patio, drinking and laughing under the generous light of the moon. Even if he wasn’t purposely avoiding you, you felt his absence from your side sorely. He didn’t say much during the wind down for bed either, only asking if you wanted the curtains fully shut, to which you gave an affirmative. Still, a sliver of moonlight speared through the gap between them, illuminating the room just enough that if you turned your head to the side, you could make out the outline of his body beneath the covers and acquaint yourself with the familiar curve of his nose.

It was only fair that the wine, having taken your sleep, offered something in return to mark an honourable trade. That something manifested itself in the restlessness of your mouth, which battled against the remaining rationality of your mind. Loose-lipped and anxious, you dug your nails into the palm of your hand, willing the war inside your head to approach a ceasefire. You did not want to make a fool of yourself in the intimacy of this small room.

However, your resolve could not last for long, corroded by the hours spent without his presence, without the familiar warmth of his touch, without his little comments meant only for you as he pointed out something silly or poked fun at Jongin’s whining. Barely above a whisper, you called out his name, letting your voice permeate the darkness. It was loud enough that he’d hear it above the silence, but soft enough that he could ignore it if he so wished, and you’d attribute his ignorance to the deepness of sleep.

There was a second of silence, which he followed with an answering hum and a shuffle of his legs on the mattress. He was awake, and he was waiting for you to speak.

“Are you mad at me?” you asked the ceiling.

“No, I’m not mad at you,” was his reply, accompanied by a quiet sigh. He was conversing with the ceiling too, just as reluctant to face you.

Your hands twisted the sheets in dissatisfaction. The even tone of his voice indicated truth, but his answer didn’t explain why he had spent the whole night outside without calling for you even once, when he usually couldn’t last half an hour without pressing into your side and tickling your shoulder to grab your attention.

“Then what?” you probed, cringing at the whiny edge to your voice.

He was quiet for a while, letting your words hang in the air, that for a moment you thought he wouldn’t speak, that your brief conversation had already come to an end, and you’d be left with unanswered questions as bedside companions for the night. There was another rustling from his side of the room as he settled himself under the covers.

“Sometimes, I think I want too much from you,” he finally said. He was quiet, but you heard every word with the clarity as if they had been projected through a stereo system. “And you can’t give me everything I want, but that’s not your fault. It’s an indication of my own greed and selfishness more than anything else.”

You kicked around at your sheets to signal your unrest at his words. “I don’t think you are greedy or selfish. At all. At least not with me.” If anything, you were the selfish one, wanting all his smiles and touches for yourself, wanting the entire spectrum of his existence to only ever be shown to you. Your generosity only ever came to light when it was in service of him, gladly letting him take your attention, your time, allocating space in your mind for him and him only.

Baekhyun only laughed a soft and short laugh at your reply, the sound so different from the usual one filled with boisterous joy that you had grown the most used to. You heard him turn over in his bed to face you. In the quiet darkness of the room, the focus of his gaze flooded over you, and the intensity of it was so blinding you didn’t dare to look away from the smoothness of the ceiling, fearing you’d smoulder into ash the moment you locked eyes with him.

“You know that you are a really important person to me. You know that, right?” he asked, eyes searing into you with the force of a thousand suns. “I mean, everyone else is also important because they’re my friends, but you’re different — you are a special person to me. I don’t see you the way I see Chanyeol, or Jongin, or anyone else.”

His words were still tinged with the slight slur of the beer from out on the patio, but you could feel the delicate care with which they were chosen and spoken. Something was different about tonight. You could taste it in the thick air between the two of you, feel it in the wire-taut tension stretching across the gap between your two twin beds. Your fingers dug into the comforter, willing the turbulence in your chest to subside.

He paused and took a deep breath, as if bracing himself against something devastating. “I don’t want the same things with them as I do with you.”

You held your breath until you felt the pain of deprivation in your chest.

“But I’ve made peace with the fact that what I want from you, and the way I feel about you, are things I’ll have to carry with me. They’re things I have to bear the weight of alone. I don’t — I would never want you to be uncomfortable, or see me differently.” There was a slight catch in his voice at the end.

You didn’t even know if your lungs were still working while you listened to him speak. There was a surrealness to the night, as if everything had been covered in a blanket of haze and everything that was transpiring was the product of a fever-induced dream, existing on an alternate timeline.

Baekhyun… it didn’t even feel right thinking it.

Baekhyun had feelings for you? And he had convinced himself it was one-sided?

“It’s pretty selfish, isn’t it? Asking you to act like things between us won’t change after everything I just said,” he laughed, but there was little humour in the sound. You finally turned your head to look at him, the wry curve of his mouth catching the moonlight as he gazed at you. He was smiling, the shape of it meant to comfort you, but he could not hide the sadness weaved into the downturn of his eyes. He had always been braver than you, perhaps not in the aspect of riding roller-coasters, but certainly in his ability to be honest and open about his emotions, regardless of whether they were good or bad.

It was your turn to be brave now, and shed your own fear to meet him where he stood.

“I’ve been seeing you differently for a while now,” you admitted, turning under the sheets to fully face him. You were grateful for the darkness, hoping that it would conceal the heat creeping up your neck and face, painting your cheeks with a hot blush that accompanied the start of your confession. His brows furrowed slightly as he tried to process your words, confusion settling in the crease between them. You held yourself back from reaching out to smooth them over.

“What do you mean?”

“What makes you think you’re the only one who feels this way?” you asked instead, leaving his question unanswered. There was a tremble in your voice as you spoke, and you were sure he heard it above the quiet of your bedroom. It was the closest you could get to telling him without actually telling him about the silent battle that had been raging in your head for the last few months.

This was it, you thought. He had to know now.

“Am I not?”

The weight of his stare pressed against you, drawing you to him with the tangible pull of gravity. The eyes that roamed your face had replaced their previous confusion with questioning, and a glimmer of something akin to hope. He had never looked more beautiful and devastating than he did right now. You felt the light of dawn breaking over your skin, a promise of something new and good sure to follow. Its warmth simmered within you, staving off the chill of the late summer night with a heat that had you pushing off your covers in a hurried frenzy and rising to sit on the edge of your bed, toes just grazing the floorboards beneath you. Would you still have had the same nerve to face him in the daylight, rough and exposed without the lulling comfort of darkness? Would he still look at you, unpolished and flawed in the clarity of the sun, the same way, with the reverence of man at the sight of an angel?

Baekhyun mirrored you and sat up on his own bed, slowly, as if not wanting to spook you, fearing you’d run off and retreat back into the confined familiarity of your own head. His knees knocked against yours in the small space between your two mattresses. You jolted at the feeling of his skin on yours, having gone without it for so long that the mere touch was like the first drop of water after emerging from the desert. He made to move away, trying to shuffle across the length of the bed, but stilled at the hand you placed just over his knee, willing him to stay put. Surely, he could feel the beat of your heart thrumming through your fingertips.

It was your turn to be brave now.

Fueled by the second glass of Shiraz and the muted encouragement of darkness, before you could second guess yourself and overthink every possible negative outcome of what you were about to do, you closed your eyes and leant towards him. Slowly, inch by inch, until your journey ended with the soft, tentative press of your lips against his. It was short and chaste, nothing more than a gentle pressure, and you pulled back when you felt his lips part in surprise.

“Does that answer your question?” you whispered, heart in your throat.

There it was. You had gone and done it.

His eyes were closed, and in the dim moonlight peeking through the curtain, you could almost make out each of his eyelashes, fluttering dark and soft against the smooth skin of his cheek. For a few seconds, the room was filled only with the sounds of your breathing as you waited for his reaction, for the consequences of your actions and what that meant for your friendship with him.

Then you heard it — his soft laugh, coloured with appreciative disbelief, and felt the air of it caress your face. The corners of his mouth curved upwards into a small, pleased smile. His eyes blinked open slowly, taking you in with a hunger that had desire curling in the pit of your stomach.

“You are just so…” he began, but you never found out just exactly what you were. He was already pulling you back into him, slotting his mouth against yours like they were always made to fit perfectly together. This time, the kiss was anything but chaste, the sheer force of it enough to scorch your insides down to your bones. His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush towards him, and your knees parted around his thighs to adjust to the new position. Your own hands found purchase in the softness of the hair at the nape of his neck, desperate for something to anchor yourself to, in fear that the realisation of this moment would somehow make it slip away.

This was what it felt like to stand unafraid and bare in the light of unbridled wanting, to consume and be consumed by a ravenous appetite with no propensity for satiety. When his hands slipped past the hem of your sleep tank, fingertips grazing across the skin of your lower back, you were sure you could erupt into flames. He swallowed the breathy noise that escaped your lips, tongue brushing against yours as he claimed your mouth with his own.

This was what it felt like to hold the sun in the palm of your hand.

When you broke apart to catch your breaths, his eyes were bright, lips plump and swollen, chest heaving beneath your hands. Somehow, you had ended up back on his bed, his head against the pillows, hands under your shirt and keeping you close to him with an unforgiving hold. He was gazing up at you with a devotion that made your heart swell even more than it did pulling oxygen back into your lungs.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a really long time,” he admitted, hiding his head into the crook of your shoulder. You felt his abashed smile against your skin and wondered how it could be possible that you had contained all of this, the longing, the yearning, inside you for so long.

“How long?” you asked, hearing the smile in your own voice.

“Since Chanyeol’s birthday, when you wore that brown sweater with the little bow on the back.”

Last year, Chanyeol had gotten everyone together at his place for a nice dinner and wine followed by a binge watch of all the Iron Man movies in one sitting. It was all going according to plan until a quarter of the way into the third one, when he began snoring at his own birthday gathering. The bowl of popcorn was sliding out of his hands and sure to make a buttery mess all over the rug, and that’s when the rest of you decided to turn the television off and call it a night. Sehun and Jongin tasked themselves with getting the birthday boy into bed, and likely collapsed onto it with him immediately after, while Baekhyun had offered you the couch, assuring you he’d be fine with the blankets on the floor. At the time, you hadn’t thought much of it. As chaotic as he could be, Baekhyun was nothing if not kind, and you had been grateful that his kindness had always extended to you over the three years you had known each other.

“But that was more than half a year ago. Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

His fingers prodded into your sides, eliciting a few choked giggles from you. “I didn’t know how you’d react. You know you’re not the most expressive person on the planet,” he said dryly. “Or the most observant. I literally frenched your collarbone and you’re telling me you didn’t realise I liked you more than as a friend?”

“Okay, well when you put it like that,” you huffed, feeling the vibrations of his laugh through his chest. “But you really didn’t know I had feelings for you? Chanyeol never said anything?”

His movements stilled, leaning back into the pillows so he could lock eyes with you again. “You talk to Chanyeol about me?” he asked, to which you nodded sheepishly. “Since when?”

“Last month, Jongdae’s housewarming. He fished it out of me after dinner,” you sighed, picturing his smug grin under the lights of Jongdae’s fancy new kitchen when you realised that you had slipped up and let him in on your little secret.

“But I talk to him about you.”

You looked at each other for another beat, realisation breaking over the both of you, before dissolving into another fit of disbelieving giggles. Maybe Park Chanyeol did know how to keep his mouth shut after all.

“So he’s a terrible wingman, is what I’m getting out of this whole thing,” Baekhyun chuckled, rolling you over so you were now lying on your side, face to face with him. He planted a slow, sweet kiss on your lips, taking his time to acquaint himself with the shape and taste of your mouth, and you felt the contentment of his smile against you. “I can’t believe we could have gotten together a month ago. Some best friend he is.”

“Gotten together?” you echoed, one eyebrow raised in feigned dispute, delighting in the way his sweet mouth settled into the pout that you adored.

“You mean to tell me that you don’t want to be with me after your tongue was all up in my mouth?”

You pushed his face away, groaning, “Gross, don’t say it like that.” He, however, had different plans, hooking a calf behind your knees and tugging you back into him, before weaving the other leg in between your own.

“You know you like it,” he murmured into your neck, squeezing his arms around you just in case you’d disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough. One hand traced absent-minded circles over the grooves of your spine as he breathed you in, warm and familiar against your chest.

Yes, you thought, you’d risk any and everything for this exact moment. It was worth all the doubt and heartache, all the time spent replaying those moments in your head, unsure of the meaning behind his actions. You could be sure of it now.

“I do,” you agreed, threading your fingers through the softness of his hair. “I probably more than like you,” you added, tilting his face upwards to steal another kiss, giddy and chest swelling with affection. Perhaps you weren’t quite yet ready for that other four letter word, but you had no doubt you would be one day, and soon. He was all too willing to comply, letting his mouth mould against yours with the poise and patience of a saint.

“I probably more than like you too,” he replied, punctuating his confession with one final kiss to the tip of your nose. It was enough for the serene smile on your face to persist, even past the arrival of sleep.

“I knew it.”

You cracked one eye open, trying to adjust to the light flooding in through the open door to your room. Chanyeol stood at the foot of your bed, grinning from ear to ear with what could only be described as a look of triumph as he took in the scene before him. The boy next to you stirred lightly, digging his face deeper into the pillow, reluctant to leave the realm of the sleeping. Chanyeol was not in the least sympathetic to his friend’s struggles, striding over to the window and pulling back the curtains with a clang. You winced as the full force of the morning sun barged in, and Baekhyun let out a soft noise of displeasure at the intrusion.

“I fucking knew it,” Chanyeol said again, quickly bringing you to your senses as you registered the weight of another body on top of your own. You made to remove yourself from him, fighting the flush creeping up your neck and face, but it was an effort which proved futile as he only tightened the arm around your waist, loath to let you go.

“Can you be quiet? You’re going to wake the whole house,” you hushed, finally succeeding in untangling your legs from Baekhyun’s, feeling the loss of his warmth immediately.

“They’re already up. I came to call you for breakfast,” Chanyeol replied, the grin seemingly stuck to his face. “Which actually reminds me,” he began, before sticking his head out of the doorway to holler, “You better pay up, Jongin. And you too, Kyungsoo!”

“You bet on us?” came the groggy voice from the pillows behind you.

“What the hell, Chanyeol? I thought you said you didn’t go around blabbing about his feelings!” you exclaimed, indignant.

“To you. I never said anything about telling anyone else,” was his reply, smug and victorious at having outsmarted you.

Kyungsoo appeared in the doorway, donning a flour-covered apron, as if to confirm for himself that he was in fact a debtor to the taller boy. “Even if he didn’t say anything, it wasn’t all that hard to figure out,” he said lightly, surveying the room with curiosity and paying no mind to the shock painted on your face. How had everybody known about your now not-so-secret crush on Baekhyun except for the man himself? “Anyways, I only said that it would be unlikely to happen over this weekend, not that it was impossible. So Jongin is the only loser. Now come for pancakes.” And with that, he headed back towards his bowl of batter on the kitchen counter, chuckling at the sound of Jongin’s complaints against fulfilling his end of the wager.

Baekhyun, having somewhat freed himself from the clutches of sleep, rose to a sitting position and shot a drowsy scowl at his friend. “You’re kind of an asshole, you know that right?”

But even the expletive could not put a damper on Chanyeol’s mood, his smile never slipping. “You two should honestly be thanking me,” he said, to which you also shot him a glare. “Also, I’m happy for you and everything, but can you please keep the PDA to a minimum in front of the rest of us? I will lock you out of the house if you don’t.”

Baekhyun turned to you, the creases of the frown on his face slowly but surely smoothing out as he took you in, cheeks puffy and hair a mess from having just woken up. He had seen you in worse states, and definitely in better states, but none of that seemed to matter as he regarded you with nothing but fondness in his eyes. You were sure that your expression mirrored his, affection spreading throughout your entire body, reaching even the tips of your fingers and toes, at the sight of his tousled bed head, the sleepy droop of his eyes, the sweet pinkness of his lips.

The sun was yours. There was no feasible way to stop the smile from blooming across your entire face.

“No promises.”

#baekhyun #exo baekhyun #byun baekhyun #baekhyun x reader #exo x reader #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun au #exo au #exo fluff #kaleidohscopic works baekhyun

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rollingsins · 1 year

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three's a crowd, part six

summary: you hadn’t expected this. to fall in love. with not one girl, but two. you hadn’t expected to ruin their friendship. love triangle au.

pairing: emma myers x reader, jenna ortega x reader

warnings: language, angst, 18+, implied smut.

word count: 4k

a/n: the angst gremlin wrote this chapter again, i take no responsibility for anyone's tears.

Georgie’s with Jenna for most of the weekend.

You ask him to keep tabs on her, check she’s okay and so he sends you regular updates. It’s not easy, he claims, trying to keep tabs on someone who wants to be left alone.

But the last thing you want is for her to be alone right now. You ask him to persist.

Emma’s with Johnna most of Saturday.

You watch her Instagram stories, try not to bubble with jealousy. But by night time, she’s calling you up and asking you to come over.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” You’re asking, takeout in hand as she lets you through the door.

“No,” Emma says, voice coy.

She tilts her head, leans up and kisses you.

Your eyes flutter closed. You’re not used to it yet, kissing her like this. Soft, almost sweet. No anger behind it.

It feels like it could be a new beginning.

She pulls you by your shirt into her, sinking back down onto the couch as you climb on top of her. You thread your fingers through her blonde hair, moan slightly at the way she grips your hips pulling you down into her.

And then your phone starts buzzing.

“Ignore it,” Emma murmurs. Her eyes are impossibly dark, lips wet, red from kissing. You duck down and kiss her again. Arousal surges through you, settling low in your belly.

You want her so bad.

You tell her by kissing her feverishly. You tilt her head up to you, slipping your tongue between her lips. She groans as your hands wander. Cup her breasts through her shirt, then settle down at the edge of her shirt, trying to tug it off.

You abandon her lips for her neck, line hot kisses at the pulse of her jawline, loving the way she responds under you. Quiet murmurs, body tilting up to you.

And then your phone is buzzing again.

You groan, slump down and duck your head between your neck.

“Who the fuck is that?” You’re asking as you tilt your body over to to each for your phone.

You’ll kill whoever it is. Maybe Hunter, trying to rope you into another game night. Definitely not Joy, whose policy lately had been the less of you the better.

It’s Georgie, as you should have guessed.

Four missed calls. Seven texts. You furrow your brow, wondering what on earth he could want so urgently.

On the fifth call, you answer immediately.

“Georgie, you better be dying-” You say. Emma squeezes your hips in the kind of way that makes you want to hang up the phone and press her down into the sofa. But Georgie’s voice is sounding before you get the chance.

“YN, you need to come here right now,” He says. He sounds desperate. The line is a little fuzzy, like he’s moving around. Your heartbeat spikes as you remember who he’s with.

“Is it Jenna?” You ask, sitting up. Anxiety rushes through you, “Is she okay?”

You don’t care Emma’s sitting right next to you. A wave of sickness rolls through you as your mind runs wild with the possibilities. You imagine her, glass of whiskey in her hand, threatening to throw herself off the apartment balcony. Or worse.

“What’s wrong with Jenna?” Emma asks immediately. You climb off her, instead moving to pace, “Is she okay?”

You press your ear a little closer to the phone.

“Georgie, what’s going on?”

“She’s freaking out, she’s telling me she wants to quit the show. She has her agent on the line right now.”

“Start with that, next time Georgie,” You hiss, as relief floods through you, “I thought she was hurt.”

“She will be hurt. A lot hurt if she goes through with it,” Georgie says, sounding panicked, “There’s no way they’ll let her out of the contract. I mean, she is the show. Netflix will sue her for all she has.”

“What’s going on?” Emma tugs at your arm, her eyes wide, “Is she okay?”

You squeeze her hand, tilt the phone away from your ear only slightly.

“She wants to quit the show,” You tell her, “Georgie, I’m putting you on speaker.”

Emma blinks. Her hands drop. But she’s the least of your concerns right now.

“Where is she now? Can you put her on the phone?” You ask, voice urgent.

“She’s talking to her agent. I think it’s better if you come down here in person.” Georgie says, “She won’t listen to me, but she’ll listen to you.”

You seriously doubt that. After all, you’re the reason she wants to quit in the first place. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.

You bite your lip.

“I’ll try, but Georgie-”

“I’ll do it,” Emma says, suddenly, “I’ll talk to her.”

Georgie’s silence down the other line mirrors yours. Emma stands, pulling on her jacket. A spring of determination in her step.

“Emma,” You say, treading carefully, “Is that- the best idea? You and her haven’t exactly seen eye to eye over the last few weeks.”

An understatement. Emma’s been ignoring Jenna for weeks now. And you’re a little concerned talking with Emma will push her right over the edge.

Emma frowns.

“Exactly,” She says, chewing her lip, “Maybe I was too hard on her Friday. I didn’t mean to be so harsh-”

She looks genuinely distressed. You rub her arm, suddenly your fears off Emma and Jenna throwing each other off the balcony quelled.

“I know you didn’t,” You say squeezing her hand, “Georgie, we’ll be there in five.”

Jenna’s madly pacing on her balcony, phone pressed to her ear when you arrive.

You all but knock Georgie over in your effort to get to her, Emma not far behind. And then stop in your tracks when you see the party in the living room.

Hunter and Joy are watching Jenna pace, matching expressions of worry on their faces. You frown, blinking slightly as you see them. Joy looks over to you, matches your frown with one of her own.

“What are you two doing here?” Joy asks, looking confused. She looks to Georgie.

“Georgie, is having them here really the best idea?”

“I’m not going to snap at her,” Emma says, biting her lip. She’s wringing her hands, anxiously, “I’m just going to talk. She’s quitting because of me.”

“Not just you,” Hunter says, eyeing you.

Georgie waves his hands about. He steps between you, trying to pull you to the door.

“It doesn’t matter why she’s quitting. What matters is getting her to stop. Go, YN.”

But Emma stops you. You all look as she takes a deep breath.

“No,” She says, looking determined, “It has to be me.”

Georgie, in all his panicked frenzy, makes several cups of coffee. He paces back and forth, prying half-full cups out of people’s hands and replacing them with new ones every few minutes, unable to keep still.

“Georgie, relax.” You say, after your third cup, “I don’t think all this caffeine is helping anyone.”

“If she quits it’s over,” He says, eyes flashing, “For everyone. We’ll get canceled, she’ll get sued. Blacklisted, maybe. She’ll never work in film again. And she loves working in film-”

“That’s not going to happen, Georgie.” Joy assures. She reaches out for him, tugs him into her, rubbing his back, “She’ll come to her senses. We’re all here to help her come to her senses.”

“What do you think they’re saying?” You ask, peering out onto the balcony.

They’ve been out there for almost twenty minutes and from what you can see, the conversation hasn’t stopped flowing. Their body language is hard to read. Jenna’s tense, Emma’s standing so far away from her they might as well be on different balconies. You squint, try to read Emma’s lips.

“Maybe they’re working out a custody agreement,” Hunter says, voice dry, “Emma gets to fuck you on weekdays, Jenna gets the weekend.”

“That’s not funny.” You snap.

Georgie intervenes, “Let’s not turn on each other,” He says, holding out his hands, “We’re all here for the same reason. We care about Jenna and we don’t want her to do something stupid.”

Hunter leans back in his seat. Settles for watching the exchange outside like it’s a show.

“You’re right,” He says, quietly, “Sorry YN.”

But you’re not listening to him. Emma’s leaning in a little closer, her façade softening. Jenna looks upset. They’ve locked eyes. Emma lifts her thumb to her mouth, chews on her fingernails as Jenna speaks.

“Should we call someone?” Joy asks, “A producer or something?”

“No,” Georgie and Hunter say in unison. Georgie clears his throat, “They’ll get all legal about it. It’s a last resort.”

You tilt your head. Emma says something, then touches Jenna’s arm. You blink, wondering if you’ve imagined it. And then Emma’s opening the door, leaving Jenna outside on the balcony.

She blinks at the sea of worried faces.

“So?” Hunter asks, sitting up, “How did it go?”

“She’s not quitting,” Emma says, simply. She reaches for her coat, “We talked it out.”

Joy blinks.

“And that was it? You convinced her?”

“Yeah.” Emma says. She looks exhausted, like she’s just run a twenty-six mile marathon, “You guys can go out if you want, but I think she’d rather be left alone.”

“You go Georgie.” You suggest, “Let’s not crowd her.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice. He leaps up, hurries to the sliding door. You watch as he puts an arm around her, concern still written all over his face.

You look up at Emma as she slides her shoes back on.

“Are we going?”

“You can stay if you want,” She offers but you shake your head.

Whatever magic she’d worked on the balcony, the last thing you want is to undo it. If anything, you’d rather slip out before Jenna even knows you’re here. It’s better that way. Easier.

“Let’s go.”

You sit in the passenger seat of Emma’s car as she pulls out of the lot, squeezing your own fingers. You have questions, a lot of questions, but Emma’s mood isn't exactly forthcoming. She’s acting weird, withdrawn. She tilts her hand away from yours when you try to touch it over the console.

So you bite your lip and hold your tongue for as long as you can.

Which is about three and a half minutes.

“What did you guys talk about?” You ask, unable to keep your tone casual. Uneasiness brews in your stomach. Undoubtedly, you were the subject of conversation, and you don’t like not knowing what was said.

Emma looks pensive. Her fingers tighten on the steering wheel, “We just talked. About everything.”

You hum. Tap your fingers against the dash. Her vague answer doing nothing to stop the rush of anxiety swelling through you.

“Okay. Did you want to go into a little more detail?”

“Maybe later,” She says, voice clipped and you can tell that’s the end of it.

You sit back in your seat, a little disappointed.

She’s quiet for a moment, the car silent except for the blare of the radio and the quiet hum of the engine. It’s unsettling.

“I’m going to take you home,” She says, after a while, “We can talk tomorrow.”

“Oh,” You say, sounding a little put out, “Okay. I just thought we were going to hang out tonight.”

You’d picked out a film and everything. Stacked your cupboards with sour patch and toffee popcorn - her favorite snacks.

And shaved everything head to toe. This isn't how the night was supposed to go.

“I’m just not feeling up to it anymore,” She says. Her eyes are on the road and she won’t look at you. You cross your arms. Doubt seeps through your body, one little factor niggling at the pit of your stomach.

“And are you up to seeing Johnna? That’s where you’re going, right?”

She avoids your eyes. Swallows.

“Let’s not do this now,” She says and it all but confirms it.

Hurt flashes through you. Your heart seizes painfully. Because of course that’s where she’s going.

“You know I don’t mind you seeing both of us,” You say, voice tight, even though it’s a lie. You very much minded her seeing Johnna, “But to ditch me for her even though we made plans is pretty shitty.”

Emma sighs. Her grip on the wheel is iron-tight.

“I won’t see her then. I’ll go home,” She says, like she doesn’t want to fight about this, “Happy?”

“Ecstatic.” You say, dead-panned.

The radio plays some stupid pop song. It grates at your nerves, perhaps more than it should. You switch it off, wanting to stew in silence. Emma looks over at you.

“It’s just been a long day,” She says, after a painful moment, “I have to… process.”

“It’s fine,” You say, un-buckling your seatbelt as she pulls into the parking lot of your apartment complex, “It’s whatever.”

And then you leave her sitting in her car.

You watch the movie alone.

Gulp down an entire pack of the sour patch kids you’d bought for Emma. But you can’t concentrate. You feel sick at the thought of Emma with Johnna. Whispering the sweet nothings that should have been yours in her ear.

And above all else, you can’t get Jenna out of your mind.

You contemplate calling Georgie again but it doesn't feel like enough. Keeping tabs on her from a distance seems so silly after today. You want to hear her voice, want to hear in her own words that she’s okay and she isn’t going anywhere.

And so you pull your phone out of your pocket and dial her number before you can think too hard about it.

At first, you think she’s going to let it ring out. Thirty seconds pass with no answer.

But then, you hear her voice.

“Hi.” She says.

“Hi.” You say.

There’s a moment of silence. You close your eyes, trying to muster the strength to talk.

“I'm sorry about all that at the apartment,” You say, “We weren’t trying to ambush you.”

She’s quiet for a moment.

“It’s okay,” She says, finally, “You guys were right. I’d get sued to kingdom come.”

It’s awkward. You don’t know what to say. You don’t want to pry into her conversation with Emma, even though it’s the thing you’re most desperate to talk about. She speaks before you can bring it up.

“You can call Georgie off, you know.”

“Huh?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Georgie. You can tell him to go home. He’s been hovering all weekend like a stray dog. I know you put him up to it.”

“Or maybe Georgie just cares about you,” You suggest. It’s not entirely a lie.

But she sees through it.

“I’m okay,” She says, “I’m not going to freak out again and try to quit my job. Or drive myself off a cliff or whatever it is you were worried about. But I appreciate it. I appreciate you thinking about me.”

“Okay.” You say, a little hesitant, “I’ll call him off.”

The line goes quiet, so quiet you think you’ve lost her. Then she says, “And I’m here for you too. When you need it. If you need it.”

There’s something in her voice, ambiguity, like she’s trying not to let too much on. Like she knows something you don’t.

You frown.

“Okay?”

“I should go,” She says, quietly, “Thanks for calling.”

Emma spends Sunday with Johnna. And Monday. And Tuesday.

You only know this because of the clipped text messages you get when you ask if she’s free.

With Johnna, talk later xx.

Three days in a row.

It doesn’t take a genius to realize she’s avoiding you. Either too enraptured with her new side-piece or maybe because she’s finally had enough of you.

It doesn't occur to you that maybe you could be the side-piece now.

To distract yourself from the burning hot jealousy that is permanently settled in your stomach, you spend your days bothering Georgie.

“How did she seem?” You ask over a latte. The café is bustling, the sound of coffee beans grinding and punters shouting out orders does nothing to quell the anxiety in your bones.

Georgie groans. He puts down his croissant and stares over at you.

“She seemed fine. How many times are you going to ask?”

You hadn’t spoken to Jenna since your brief phone conversation on Saturday, but you’d spent the days after worrying about her. It wasn’t a small thing - to want to quit an entire production, and you can’t help but want to know she’s okay. In truth - when you weren’t toiling about whatever it is Emma’s doing with Johnna - your mind is on Jenna.

“Have you spoken with her since?” You ask, chewing your lip, “I’m just worried she has no one to talk to.”

“She’s not Nigel-no-mates,” Georgie says, taking a sip of his coffee, “She has family and friends back home. I’m sure she’s talking to them.”

Jenna doesn’t strike you as the kind of person who talks about things like this. You know it because you’re exactly the same.

Internalize, internalize, internalize.

It’s not healthy. You know it by heart; it’s ripping you apart.

“Maybe I should call her again,” You wonder aloud. Georgie gives you a look.

“And how would Emma feel about that?” He asks, like you already know the answer.

You shrug, look down at your open messages.

Miss you xx

You’d sent it three hours ago. And she’d left you on read.

“I doubt she’d care,” You say, sinking back into your seat, “She’s too busy with Johnna.”

Georgie looks over at you from the rim of his glass. He has questions, you can see them brewing in his eyes. You drop your phone to the table, sighing.

“She still hasn’t texted you back then?” He asks.

“Nope.” You say. You fidget in your seat, feeling more than a little on edge.

“I’m sure she’s just decompressing,” Georgie says, trying to be helpful, “That conversation with Jenna can’t have been easy.”

“Maybe,” You hum, “Or maybe she’s just realized I’m not worth it after all. And Johnna’s pretty. Prettier than me-”

“No, she’s not,” Georgie says firmly, “Stop it. Emma’s goo-goo eyed for you. This Johnna thing - she’s just protecting herself.”

You pick at your nails.

Georgie pauses. He watches you, his words careful.

“And if Emma is catching feelings for Johnna, maybe it wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing.”

At this you look up. Stare at him like he’s crazy.

“How is that not a bad thing?” You ask, voice high.

Georgie shrugs. Bites his lip like he’s not sure if he should say. Your aggrieved stare pulls it out of him.

“I’m just saying, maybe it’s not meant to be. Maybe you’re supposed to be with someone else.”

A lump rises in the back of your throat. A barista shouts someone’s name. Suddenly, it’s too hot in here.

“Georgie, I don’t even want to go there-”

“Jenna’s a professional,” Georgie cuts in before you can stop him, “She’s the hardest worker I’ve ever known. And she loves her job. But she wanted to quit. Because it was all too much. Because of you. Seeing you with Emma-”

“She wanted to quit because I made things awkward,” You say, “She wanted to quit because I made Emma hate her.”

“Maybe,” Georgie says, smoothly. He picks up his croissant, "Or maybe not. That’s all I’m saying.”

Emma finally texts you back as you’re walking home.

Can I come by in 20?

You text her back, embarrassingly fast. Take the quickest shower of your life and wear the sluttiest outfit you can find. You're touch-starved - three days without her. You want to look so good she forgets Johnna's name. You finish up with your eyeliner, and then wait like a housewife by the front door to greet her when she finally shows up.

She’s dressed down, no make-up. She looks beautiful, if not tired. Squeezes your hand as you let her in. If she notices the tiny mini-skirt you're wearing, she doesn't say anything.

“Do you want a drink?” You’re asking as she settles down into the sofa. You feel uneasy. She's acting weird. Distant. Like she's not really here.

She shakes her head.

“Come over here,” She says, patting the spot next to her, “Let’s talk.”

Suddenly, you’re filled with dread. Her knee is bobbing up and down, like she’s nervous about something. She’d rejected your kiss at the door, tilting her head so your lips hit her cheek instead.

And she’d ignored you all weekend.

You swallow, hard. Hands fall limp to your side. The walk to the sofa feels like a death march.

It's nothing, you try and tell yourself, she's just stressed out.

But it doesn't feel like nothing. It feels like something ominous.

You settle next to her, eyebrows furrowed. She’s avoiding your gaze, suddenly very interested in the books you have stacked on the coffee table.

And suddenly you just know.

“I know things have been… weird,” She starts, chewing her lip. She's blinking too much, still avoiding your eyes, “Since Saturday. No - not since Saturday. Since… since we started this.” She gestures between you.

All you can do is stare, heart in your throat.

You look at her hands. They’re moving far too much. Picking at her own cuticles like she doesn’t know what to do with them.

“And I know mistakes have been made. On both our parts. And I’m sorry for that.”

You blink a few times. Suddenly she’s looking at you, blue eyes filled with concern. Anxiety. Trepidation.

“I didn’t think it would be this hard,” She’s saying but you can barely hear her. There’s a distant ringing in your own ears, anxiety churning deep within your stomach as your fight or flight kicks in. You can feel your own hands shaking.

It's happening. She's finally breaking up with you.

“Love isn’t supposed to be hard,” She says, voice earnest, “It’s supposed to be easy. It’s supposed to be two people on the same level. Feeling the same vibe. Not one person in and one person out.”

“Uh huh,” You say, voice hollow, “Except that’s not true. In all the books, in all the poems, in all the stories, it’s never easy. It’s hard and soul-crushing and worth it in the end.”

Something awakens in you. It’s the fight taking over. You don't want this. You don't want it to end. You don't want her to be distant, or aloof and you certainly don't want her to break up with you.

Not now. Not after everything. Not after all you'd given up.

You seize her hands, eyebrows furrowed as you try to make her see.

But she jerks back, withdrawing her hands like yours burn her.

“That’s fiction, YN,” She says, eyes sad, “And that’s not want I want love to be. Not for me.”

You swallow.

“So you’re picking Johnna because it’s easy?” You ask. You can’t keep the bitterness out of your voice. Fire swells in your chest, hatred for Johnna even though it’s not her fault. Even though you’re the one who ruined it. You had Emma and you blew it.

“This has nothing to do with Johnna,” Emma says. There’s exhaustion in her voice. She’s tired of fighting, you can hear it, “You and I - we tried and it didn’t work.”

“But it is working,” You plead. You want to reach for her again but you know she’ll just throw you off. Break your heart into tiny, bite sized pieces, “I know we had a bumpy start, but Jenna isn’t a factor anymore. I picked you.”

Emma flinches at Jenna’s name. Your speech does nothing to settle her. If anything, it makes her eyes harden.

“You didn’t pick me,” She says, slowly, “You got stuck with me. It’s not the same thing. Your first choice bailed so you settled for your second.”

It hurts you, somewhere deep down. You want to argue, you want to protest until you're blue in the face. But it isn't not true. She's right, even if you'll never admit it.

She watches you a moment. Her eyes a mesh of sorrow and hurt and heartbreak. Mirroring your own.

“This is what’s best for everyone.” She concludes. Her voice is final.

You tilt your head back, try to quell the tide of tears threatening to spill. You’ll not cry in front of her. If you can control anything about this situation it’s that. You sit up slightly, take a deep breath before you look her in the eye.

“Fine,” You say, voice shaky, betraying your emotion, “I hope you and Johnna will be very happy together.”

“YN-”

“I’d like you to go now,” You say, “Please.”

She pauses, looking like she wants to say something more. But she holds in it, and that you’re grateful for.

She stands, legs shaky as she walks to the door. It occurs to you this must be as hard for her as it is for you.

But you don’t follow. If you move, you’re not quite sure you won’t collapse to the ground. Maybe you want to collapse to the ground. Have it open up and swallow you whole. No more Emma, no more Jenna, no more pain.

Just a quick ride to nothingness.

Right now, there's nothing more appealing.

But the ground doesn't open, and you don't feel nothing. You feel everything. Sorrow, guilt, pain, dread, anxiety, hurt. It's too much. Your mind screams. Your hands shake. The lump in your throat is so big it hurts to swallow. Your eyes prick, warning you. You squeeze them shut.

One more minute, you beg them, please.

Emma's at the door. She hovers, turning around to look at you once more.

“I’m sorry.” Is all she says.

You clench your jaw, waiting for the door to click shut.

And when she leaves, you can’t stop the wave of tears from flooding over.

next part

#three's a crowd #love triangle fic #mine #fanfic #jenna ortega #emma myers #wednesday #emma myers x reader #emma myers x you #emma myers x yn #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x yn #jenna ortega x you

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