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#best friends to lovers
strangererotica · 22 hours
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EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI
Eddie Munson x Reader • Eddie is stressed out and hasn’t been able to make himself come while jerking off. Luckily, his best friend (you!) is there to help ♥️
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If your friendship with Eddie hadn’t been so…comfortable…then maybe the question you asked him would have come across as strange. But the two of you had known each other forever, and felt safe discussing anything and everything. So when Eddie confided in you that he was feeling completely burned out and stressed from drama with one of his band mates, you naturally wanted to help.
“It’s just-.” Eddie stretched his arms over his head, lying back on the sofa beside you. “-It’s really got me down, (y/n). I hate conflict, you know? And especially with someone who’s a part of the band.”
You nodded understandingly as Eddie continued. “I don’t think I’ve been this stressed-ever. I can’t even jerk off anymore, which is just absolutely unfair.” Eddie laughed, but you could tell he was trying to play off something that was genuinely troubling him.
“So, you can’t come?” you asked, and Eddie nodded. “Yeah, I get hard and everything, but when I get close, it just-.” He blew a little raspberry. “Gone.”
“Well maybe I can help?” you offered. Eddie’s eyebrows raised. “You mean like…help?” He waved a hand below his waist. “With this?”
“Mm-hmm,” you replied. “If you’d be okay with it. And, if you’re not, that’s cool-.” You shook your head. “I realize this is something we’ve never done before, so if the idea is gross, just forget I ever-.”
“-No,” Eddie interrupted, his voice softer. “It’s not gross. Not at all. Actually…” Eddie shrugged, his lips turning upward. “It sounds kind of nice...”
A silence settled between the two of you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Eddie scooted just a little closer, till his knee was touching yours. “So, how would we do this?” he asked. You could tell he was nervous, and you were, too. But the nervousness held a kind of sweetness, an innocence that only friends as close as you and Eddie could share. Maybe this situation would have been dirty, or taboo in any context other than the bond you and Eddie shared. But as it was, all things considered, the idea of helping your best friend get off didn’t seem weird at all…
“I guess we could start with a kiss?” you suggested, before breaking into a giggle. Eddie did as well, because the whole situation was a little surreal. “Um, okay,” he grinned, leaning in and placing his hand on your cheek. There was a brief moment of awkwardness, of giggly hesitation and noses bumping…but then, when Eddie’s lips pressed soft and warm to yours, the giggles and hesitation ended immediately.
Clumsy movements were replaced with delicate gestures, tongues gently exploring a world that felt both familiar, and brand new. Eddie’s fingers curled inside your hair, a nod of dominance that was so subtle, you would have missed it if it hadn’t stirred a heat between your legs. Eddie shifted his weight on the couch, his knee against yours nudging your legs apart slightly. His thumb massaged soft circles along your cheek, fingers coiled in your hair, his tongue gently wrestling with yours.
You took Eddie by the wrist and guided his hand lower, till he was palming your breast. He groped your soft skin with an intensity that had your nipple poking through the fabric of your shirt to meet Eddie’s palm. He groaned into your kiss as he felt your nipple hardening under his touch. The heat between your legs had shifted to an ache, a bittersweet pain that you tried to soothe by clenching your thighs together. The pressure wasn’t enough; you knew you’d need to come in order for the ache to go away.
As if proving just how in sync the two of you were, Eddie asked “can I touch you?” And you nodded your consent as Eddie’s fingers left your tit in exchange for the warm space between your thighs. He cupped his fingers together and slid them beneath your pussy, cradling your sex in his palm. He was massaging you through your clothes, but it felt so good you’d swear Eddie was touching your skin. His kiss moved to your neck, softly sucking between his lips as his mouth traveled over your shoulder.
“Fuck, Eddie,” you breathed, your voice like a prayer. He grinned against your shoulder, his mouth open and teeth lightly pressed to your skin. Eddie’s tongue swept a long and languid stroke up your neck and around the curve of your chin, his hand continuing to work between your thighs. You bucked your hips upward, humping against the heel of Eddie’s palm. The friction through your jeans added to the intensity. “That’s right, (y/n),” Eddie purred against your cheek. “You’re gonna come for me, aren’t you?”
And Eddie was right. The aching tension between your legs reached its peak, your climax shattering through you in waves. Eddie never stopped massaging your cunt throughout your orgasm, letting you rut into the base of his palm. You came down softly from your high, your skin glowing with a light sheen of sweat. Eddie was smiling at you warmly as he removed his hand from between your legs. “Feel better?” he asked, but you didn’t answer with words. Instead, you pushed Eddie back against the couch, making him chuckle in surprise. As before, his laughter died quickly the instant your hand closed over the outline of his erection bulging in his jeans.
Eddie drew in a sharp breath as you groped his cock through his pants. It had been awhile since anyone had touched him; Eddie needed this. His toes were curling in his socks as you massaged him, pretty little grunts spilling from his lips. You curved your palm around the outline of Eddie’s cock, rubbing from his base to his tip with a firm, steady pressure. He closed his eyes and let his head rest on the back of the couch as you worked him.
Eddie lifted his hips so he could rub upward into the curve of your hand. You knew Eddie was close when his eyebrows pulled together, and the sounds he was making rapidly changed from grunts to a string of curses. Eddie’s cock pulsed against your palm, a wet patch blooming in the crotch of his jeans. You watched Eddie’s cum darken the fabric, his hands balled into fists by his sides, the veins in his neck strained.
When his cock stopped twitching and his body relaxed, Eddie was panting and grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Feel better?” you asked playfully, echoing his words from before. Eddie tugged you in for a kiss, grinning against your lips. “Shut up,” he chuckled, before pulling you back onto the couch for cuddles…
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mingigoo · 11 hours
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oh shit, are we in love? || Jongho (m.)
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🏀 pairing ⇢ cheerleader! (fem) reader x best friend/basketball player! Jongho
🏀 summary ⇢ you’ve called Jongho your best friend all your life. You were attached at the hip for ages, and even as you take on college together. With no other relationship experience other than with him, when you decide to go after a cute classmate, you look to Jongho for some help. Asking him to practice “things” with you seemed like nothing—that is, until kissing him made you think that you couldn’t kiss anyone else.
🏀 genre/au ⇢ best friends to lovers, college au, smut, fluff
🏀 warnings/tags ⇢ 18+ MINORS DNI, unprotected sex, oral sex (male recieving), cum shot, Jongho is a virgin, also is a slut for y/n, drinking, mentions of knee injury, best friends to lovers, college love, cheerleader x basketball player
🏀 word count ⇢ 15.8k (so sorry I just couldnt stop)
🏀 taglist ⇢ @jjhmk @yukine-smx @roe-sinning @meowmeowminnie @yeritheloml @y00nzin0 @yesv01 @halesandy @shegotboreddsoo @kangyeosangelic @gayliljoong @sanshineeeeee @kodzukein @baguette-atiny @seokwoosmole @nyeatinyjunkie @juliettechokilo @pockyddalgi @justaqueerbufoin @hwaightme @likexaxdaydream @ssaboala @gtr-skyline-lover @miriamxsworld @daegale @knucklesdeepmingi @naiify @yeoyeoland @arya9111 @mdibby @8tinytings @angelicyeo @wooyoungjpg @lonewolfjinji @asjkdk @charreddonuts @mangishii @yeoyeoland @pink-hwaberry @wooyoluvrr @maru-matt @pearltinyy @loveuwoo @m3chigo @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @interweab @skz1-4-3 (if I missed you please lmk!! bold = can’t tag)
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When you were kids, Jongho gave you a ring—a ring made out of straw paper he kept after a trip to get milkshakes after school.
With the paper straw ring, he stuck it on your ring finger. The wrong one, but that didn't matter to him, anyway. He declared to you that he would marry you someday. Someday, whatever that meant to a young kid. With the ring already on your finger, you couldn't exactly decline his proposal, so you just shrugged and told him, “Why not?”
At seventeen, you went to prom together. Not because you liked each other, no. Because it was convenient, it made sense. How could you go with someone else? You wore a beautiful red gown, Jongho matching you with a patterned red tie. You had a great time, went home together, and nearly kissed at your doorstep—you didn't think too much of it. You blamed it on the atmosphere. So did he.
You sat at your desk in your cramped dorm room, your bed pushed up on the left side of the room and a mess of pillows and blankets covering it. 
Suddenly, as you were finally getting to the good part in your book, Jongho barged into your room, dropping his basketball bag onto the floor with a groan. He tossed his slides off, not even meeting your gaze before walking like a zombie towards your messy bed, throwing himself on top.
“Well hello to you too,” you blinked, losing your page in your book. “Get out of my damn bed, you're sweaty as fuck.”
He huffed, crossing his muscular arms across his chest, staring up at the glow stars you put on the ceiling. “Leave me be. My roommate is fucking some chick right now. I just need to lay down.”
“San seems like he gets around a lot,” you scoffed, picking up your book again. You were currently reading a very, very smutty book—although you were supposed to be studying your literature anthology text for the exam you had in the morning. You flipped a page. 
“Oh, he does,” Jongho sniffed. You looked over at him, his cut-off t-shirt revealing a good bit of skin on his side, his sweat gleaming on his body. “I mean, practice just ended. He had to have the damn girl in there even before he got back. It’s ridiculous.”
He sat up now, putting his back against his headboard. He winced a bit as he moved, his hand going to the brace around his knee.
You paused, completely forgetting the smut you were reading. “What is it? Is it hurting again?”
“Just a little, it’s no biggie.” Jongho offered you a smile, but it looked more like a grimace. “Don't give me that look, y/n. I hurt it a while ago. It's normal for it to ache occasionally.”
Back in your senior year, he tore his ACL before the season, causing him to never have his final year of basketball. He was a mess, but at least he had you. He got surgery, had physical therapy, but yet, he still has pain to this day.
You met his eyes for a moment, sighing when that gorgeous smile of his poked through his lips. “Fine, fine. Just get outa here when you can. I got some…important things to do alone tonight.”
He furrowed his brows, confused. “What could you possibly…..oh,” he shut his eyes painfully. “Please, I don't want to imagine it.” He scooted back down on the bed and tossed your blanket on top of him. “My eyes, my eyes.”
“Oh, shut up, you pussy.” You set your book down, crossing your legs. “A girl gotta live out her fantasies somehow, alright?”
“La la la,” he repeated, trying his best to ignore the conversation. “I don't wanna hear it.”
You let out a chuckle, stood up from your seat, and tossed yourself onto the bed with him, tackling him as he thrashed from your grip.
“Stop it, stop it,” he groaned, wriggling away from your hands as you tickled him. He giggled, childlike. You giggled right along with him, not even caring about the damn sweat that coated his skin, his clothes. You tangled together under the blanket, and after a good couple minutes of a tickle fight, you grabbed your laptop to watch your favorite TV show.
Jongho stayed under the blankets with you, his leg strewn on top of your body, his head in the crook of your neck as you watched the show together. He let out a few snide comments—earning a slap from you, but he just chuckled and nuzzled closer into you.
And after a few episodes, he fell asleep on you, legs tangled in yours, your arm wrapped around him.
“Dude, you wouldn't answer your phone last night,” Wooyoung mumbled as he stuffed a couple of chips into his mouth. “Do you literally have a new bitch every night?”
You and your friends were sitting at a table in the dining hall, munching on some lunch before you had class. Wooyoung, San, and Mingi sat across from you and Jongho, all of them in workout gear—they were going to the gym after lunch.
“Listen, last night wasn't even that good,” San hummed dully, taking a sip of his protein shake. “She was too damn loud—”
“I thought you liked them whiny,” Mingi deadpanned.
San’s eyes narrowed on the giant. “Your point? She was loud, not whiny—there’s a difference.” San looked to Jongho now, a slight smirk on his pretty little lips. “Where’d you go? You could've joined us.”
Jongho waved his hands sporadically. “No, no, I’d rather not, thank you.”
San huffed playfully, eyes dancing to you. They glimmered knowingly. “Ah, you’d rather be in her bed, right?” he nodded his head towards you, earning a harsh glare from Jongho.
“So what if I'm in her bed, it’s not like we do anything.” Jongho’s eyes went frantic, and his fists balled. “We’ve always slept with each other—wait, that came out wrong—”
“What he’s trying to say is that we’ve slept in the same bed since we were little, that nothing is ever gonna happen,” you interjected, crossing your arms across your chest.
San laughed at that. “Ah yeah, that nothing’s gonna happen, gotcha,” he said, taking the last sip of his protein shake. I’m going to the gym if you guys are ready. Jongho, y/n, you coming?”
You shook your head, but stood up with everyone else, anyway. “I have class, but you guys have fun. I’ll walk out with you.”
As you and your friends left the dining hall, the cool, winter air breezed through you, sending chills down your spine. Your winter coat wasn't enough. You shoved your hands into your pockets, walking stiffly next to jongho, who simply—possibly even without thinking, tossed his arm around your shoulder, warming you up instantly. Your friends continued to talk and carry on, and you snuggled up into Jongho’s warm side.
Class was a bore. As per usual. The spring semester had just started, and the new classes you had were far from entertaining. Anything to get through school, though.
As you packed up your things, a phone fell from the seat in front of you, landing right by your feet. You picked it up, but when the person was no longer sitting there, you quickly tossed your bag over your shoulder to follow him.
“Hey, excuse me!” you huffed, chasing after the guy—damn, his legs were long. He moved way too fast for you. “Your phone….dude!” you finally reached him, tapping him on the shoulder, only for the most gorgeous man to grace the earth to turn around.
You forced yourself to keep your jaw from falling to the floor as you met his dark eyes. His hair was even darker, his lips a soft pink, curling up slightly. 
“I’m sorry,” you breathed, holding up the phone. “But you dropped this.”
The pretty guy blinked, smirking. The classroom emptied as you stood staring at each other, oblivious to the professor giving you a side-eye as he left.
“I don't think that���s mine,” he said blandly, but his eyes glimmered mischievously. He looked a bit older—definitely older than you, at least.
You furrowed your brows, looking at the phone in your hands. “I could've sworn you were the one sitting in front of me,” you wondered, confused. You pushed it forward into his chest. “Just take it I don't have time to find the owner if it's not yours.”
He smiled down at you, his thick eyebrows raising. “I won't take it.”
“Why the hell not?” your patience was running thin—you had to get the cheer practice. This stupidly pretty guy was not allowed to make you late. You were not running laps. Not today. 
You were about to just shove it into his pockets until his mouth opened. “Not without your number.”
You frowned. “Is that….is that supposed to be a pickup line?”
He shrugged. “If you want it to be, then yes.”
God, the smile this damn boy had. You were gonna crumble under his gaze like some schoolgirl, but you kept your cool.
His eyes were so bright, so clear. He was tall, much taller than you, much older. You watched as he looked around, away from you. “If not, then I’ll just take the phone back—”
“No, no,” you laughed awkwardly, looking at the phone in your hands. “You just…you’ll just need to unlock it.”
He smiled gorgeously. “I can do that.”
He took the phone, typed in a few numbers, and gave it right back to you. “What’s your name?” 
“y/n,” you hummed, forcing your blush away. This was the first time you had been asked for your number, the first time a guy other than Jongho or your friends had looked at you. “You?”
“Seonghwa,” the pretty boy smiled, a name now to the face. You couldn't help but grin at his expression—and the utter insanity that just happened. It was totally random; a pretty guy asking for your number? That’s never happened in all your years. Never. 
“If I ask to buy you a coffee,” he started as you fumbled on your phone number. “Would you say yes?”
“Depends,” you shrugged, unable to look up at him. “If you get me food, too.”
“Deal.” Goddamn, that smile, those teeth. “Tomorrow, after class? Before class?”
You bit your lip, handing the phone back to him. “Before, I have practice after class.” actually, you had practice like, right now. You probably looked crazy, eyes wide as you realized where you needed to be. “I gotta go—speaking of which—”
Before you could leave, he called for you. “Hey, where should we meet?”
“Outside the library?” you tossed out, hoping he answered hastily. 
He nodded, giving you that smile once again. 
“Perfect.”
You were in bed after practice, and Jongho was sitting quietly on your desk chair, slowly taking off his knee brace and hissing. 
“God, this thing sucks,” he groaned, the velcro tearing as he peeled it off. The brace was like a metal cage, going from his thigh to his lower calf, looking like a deathtrap.
“And it stinks,” you mumbled dramatically, staring up at your ceiling, hands folded on your stomach as your mind wandered. You sat up quickly, startling your best friend. 
“What? What is it?” he spat out, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “You just sat up like a goddamn zombie.”
“If, let’s just say, hypothetically,” you wondered, looking out into space. “That I got asked out on a date to a coffee shop, how would I dress?”
Jongho’s eyes widened. “You got asked out? You?” he asked incredulously.
You scoffed, looking over at him with a playful sneer. “Is that so hard to believe?”
He laughed, finally taking off his brace and setting it on the side of your desk. “Oh yeah—y/n, you’ve never once gone on a date in all of our years of friendship. It's shocking.”
You blinked at him, gripping a pillow from behind you and tossing it at him. Of course, he caught it. 
“I’m just saying—”
“Okay, but for real,” you groaned, shifting to get comfy again. “You’ve been on some dates, how did the girls usually dress for them? Did you ever go on a coffee date—”
“Who’s the guy?” he huffed out, completely ignoring your worries.
You flattened your lips. “Does that matter?”
“Uh, yeah. What if the guy is a scumbag?” Jongho leaned back in the chair, stretching out his arms. 
“He’s definitely not a scumbag,” you sighed, thinking of how dreamy he looked, missing Jongho’s worried expression. “Anyway, you didn't answer my question.”
You couldn't figure out the look on your best friend’s face. He knitted his brows, his eyes raising to yours. “Just dress normally,” he spoke softly. “When’s your date?”
“Tomorrow.” You hopped off your bed and walked towards your closet across from Jongho. He followed you as you moved and hesitated to look as you tore off your top, leaving you standing in your sports bra.
Jongho gulped but rolled his eyes playfully. “Why do you always undress in front of me?” His eyes naturally dropped to your hips as you slid off your sweatpants. “I am a man, too, you know.”
“Pfft, man, my ass,” you turned your back to him as he tried his best not to look. You grabbed a t-shirt—his t-shirt that you kept from a while ago—and tossed it on. You didn't even bother with pants.
Jongho gave you a look as you turned to face him. “My shirt? Really?” He groaned, mouth parted as he looked at you. “Where the hell are your pants?”
“I don't like pants.”
“Then put shorts on—”
“Is it a crime to sleep in my underwear? God, at least I have something on, dammit.” you walked past him and hopped back onto your bed. “I could be completely naked—this is my room, remember?”
Jongho didn't change his expression—he blinked at you while you sat on the bed, bare-legged, the skin up to the top of your thigh visible. He took in a gulp. “I, uh, I got an assignment due at midnight. I’m gonna head back to my room.”
You shrugged and shuffled into bed to get comfy. “Have fun with that, babycakes,” you said, giving him a wink, but he ignored it and left your room without another look.
Maybe it was a bad idea to wear jeans on a day like today.
A day when you woke up painfully bloated, bleeding, and aching from your period. Out of all the days, you had to get it today. 
You stood outside the library, your back against the red brick building. You wore a cute pink top with the flared jeans you were struggling with, and you added a cute little bow to hold your hair back.
You saw Seonghwa walk up to you. His lower half was also dawned in wonderfully-fitting jeans. They hugged his thighs, loosening a bit at his knees, and fell over a pair of sparkling clean white sneakers that looked like they were worth more than your car. 
The white shirt was also slim against his lean frame. You held back any reaction you had like a damn cat in heat. “Hey,” he started as he neared. “Ready to go? We can go to the coffee shop on campus since we have class coming up.”
You nodded, hoping to god the smile on your face was not grimace-like. 
“Yep, let’s go.”
You sat with your hands in your lap, fiddling with your fingers anxiously as Seonghwa waited for your drinks. You looked over at him, watching his figure lean against the closest wall, how his long, long legs looked in those damn pants, how his fingers tapped against his arm as he waited. You barely knew him, nothing much other than knowing his name and now his coffee order, and you wondered what it would be like to get to know him. 
When he sat down in front of you, he handed you your coffee, a bright, blinding smile on his face. “I pegged you as the type to like ridiculously flavored seasonal drinks….” he paused, smirking, as you froze mid-sip on your….seasonal drink. Highly, highly sugary seasonal drink. “Guess I’m a good judge of character.”
You swallowed the party of sugar and cinnamon before giving him a shy smile. “I’m a sucker for them, to be honest.”
You sat quietly for a good while, sipping on your drink, him sipping on his. The feeling was…nice. However, you were a bit anxious as he looked at you, at your lips, as you drank from the straw. 
“You’re a cheerleader for the basketball team, right?” He tilted his head slightly, looking at you. “I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere—besides class, I mean.”
You nodded. “Yep, I cheer for the basketball team,” you took another sip of your drink. “Do you play? I think I would've seen you before, though.”
“Actually,” he started, offering you a kind smile. “I just transferred in from another university. I start official practice today, but I’ve been to many games already.”
Oh, so he’d seen you and known that you were on the cheer squad even before he approached you?
Cute. 
“Oh, wow,” you smiled, leaning closer without realizing it. “So, will you be playing in the next game, then?”
“Yes,” he looked ecstatic, like he can't wait. “We’ll see how much playing time I actually get, though. Those guys are very good—”
“Oh, I know!” you didn't mean to interrupt him, but you would take any chance to brag about your Jongho. “My best friend is the point guard.”
“You know Jongho?” Seonghwa smiled, but it looked a bit weary. “He’s a great guy.”
“He really is.” you took a large sip of your coffee, meeting Seonghwa’s gaze as you did it. His gaze fluttered to your lips once more, and he licked his own. 
He tapped against the wooden table. “Would you….want to do this again?”
You raised your brows. “This? You mean, getting coffee?”
“Not exactly,” he blinked, letting out a little chuckle. “Anything, just…we can hang out more, if you're down with that.”
Your heart fluttered a bit. “Ah, yeah, I would like that.”
He smiled. “Good,” he looked at the clock on the wall near your seat. “We gotta get to class.”
“Class, yeah, that’s right,” you were lost in his gaze, not even realizing how captivating his entire being was. You followed him out of the coffee shop, walking next to each other, until you got to the classroom.
He took the seat next to you this time, and you were beginning to suffocate from the feeling of his body being so close.
“I think I’m doomed.”
Jongho, like always, is in your room when you come back from practice. He sat up from his lazy position on your bed, eyebrows raised.
“Why’s that?”
You huffed, tossing your cheer bag onto the floor next to your desk. “What if he kisses me? I’ve never kissed anyone, fuck, I bet I’ll look like a fish trying to gulp fucking water—”
“God, you’ve been here for not even a minute, and you're blabbing on like a maniac already.” He blinked, his face deadpanned as he looked at you. “Why are you so concerned? Did the date go well?”
You groaned dramatically, tossing off your sneakers, and balancing yourself on the back of your desk chair. “He asked me for another date, but I know damn well what that means, and I can't let him find out that I am a twenty-something-year-old virgin that’s only ever kissed books and my mother.”
Jongho looked like he was about to burst out laughing at your desperate words, biting the inside of his cheek. He managed to squeak out, “Oh, I think you’re a lost cause,” he giggled. Giggled.
“This is not funny. You're no help,” you groaned, tossing your head back as you walked to your closet—when a perfect idea came to you. 
“Wait a damn minute–”
“What is it now?” Jongho sat up on your bed, legs dangling off the side.
You turned around sharply, facing him, eyes wide with mischief. His eyes widened at your expression.
“Lend me your lips,” you said, walking up to him, but he leaned back in confusion, his arms holding himself behind him.
“What?” He scoffed, unable to meet your gaze. “The hell do you mean?”
You leaned over him on the bed, him unable to lean any further back without falling. You held yourself up on both sides of him. “Oh, come on. Just once. You can help me learn how to kiss. Who else could?”
He furrowed his brows. “You’re crazy.”
“I know,” you shrugged. “But I’d rather die than embarrass myself.”
“You do know,” He started, letting out a sigh. “That friends don't kiss each other? Or did you miss that memo?”
“I swear it won't mean anything,” you pleaded, knowing you were acting crazy, immature, whatever. 
Jongho huffed, leaning forward, but grabbing your shoulders to move you away. “Listen,” he sighed, meeting your eyes. “Why don't you go ask San or Mingi?”
“Because San scares me,” you shrugged. “He’d probably eat me. And Mingi is….Mingi….”
“What does that even mean—”
“For fuck’s sake, Jongie,” you grabbed his shoulders. “Is this asking too much? We’ve been best friends for so long. How would something so trivial as a kiss mess with it?”
Jongho looked like he had something to say—a lot to say, actually. But he stayed quiet, sighing, as he looked up at you from his seated position on the bed.  
“Okay, but if I have to kiss someone as filthy as you,” he huffed, crossing his arms. “What do I get out of it?”
You hummed. “Hmm. well, what do you want?”
He smiled mischievously. “Do my paper for me. For my lit class.”
“Easy, done,” you leaned forward. “Now gimme your lips—”
“Ah ah ah, slow down,” he scoffed. “You can't just toss yourself into the kiss. You have to lead into it.”
“Got it,” you blinked, looking into his golden brown eyes, noticing how…nice they were. “How do I do that?”
“Well, I bet he’ll try to kiss you first,” Jongho ran a hand through his fluffy brown hair, matching his eyes. You took note of it, too. He stood up, causing you to subconsciously step away from him. You both now stood in the middle of your dorm room, the room dimly lit by your desk lamp, the warm hue coloring the tanned skin of his face.
“Okay,” you nodded, almost freaking yourself out for noticing his details, the slight curve of his lips, the way his hair fell across his forehead. 
Jongho’s calloused hand slowly, hesitantly, moved towards your face. You watched his eyes as his fingertips brushed your skin, watching them scrunch, watching them focus on his movements. “Maybe he’d hold you like this,” he spoke softly, eyes jumping to yours, his hand twitching slightly.
“But what do I do?” you weakly jutted out, biting the corner of your bottom lip. “Do I…touch you—touch him, too?”
He shrugged, swallowing hard. “I mean, you do what comes naturally.”
He was so close. So close. It's not like you’ve never been closer to him, because you have, but something was suffocating. Maybe this wasn't a good idea.
Maybe this is just how it’s supposed to feel.
You stared into his eyes, those brown eyes, those….sparkling, pretty eyes. You swallowed as his hand slid down to your chin, tilting it up softly.
There was an unknown emotion dancing in his gaze. You were extremely aware of the spark that was setting off from his touch. 
He leaned in closer, and as he got closer and closer, you felt your heartbeat flutter in your chest. You heard it in your ears, felt your stomach tighten. 
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he said hushedly. You noticed that the tips of his ears were flushed red, and a dusting of the color was across his cheeks. When he pressed his lips to yours, you widened your eyes from the feeling, then shut them to savor it.
His mouth moved across yours, you felt the warmth of his lips, the softness of them. His other hand—the one that wasn't holding onto your chin, rested around your hip, his grip tightening. 
You froze under his lips, unsure of how to do this. You moved your mouth against his, then, trying to move with his movements. You hesitantly wrapped your arms around his neck, unsure of what to do with them if you didn't do that. You felt a small smile in his kiss.
You pressed your body into him as his lips parted against yours. You felt the soft tickle of his shaky breaths against your skin—you could only imagine what you felt like to him.
He parted from you, only slightly, and took a sharp inhale. You still had your eyes shut tight, lips parted, as you got lost in the feeling. 
You opened them, meeting his gaze, meeting that heart-shattering look he had. His lips were red like his ears, like his cheeks. His eyes were hazy, his hands still on you. You felt your heart crumbling inside you. 
Without another word, you leaned back up to him, awkwardly wrapping your hand around his neck, fingers tangling into his hair. He shut his eyes, and let out a pleasured sound, stirring something, awakening something inside.
You kissed him this time, even knowing that you had no idea what you were doing. You just trusted these instincts you were feeling, the emotions that were overtaking your mind. Your body told you to part your lips against his sweet lips, to savor the slightly salty taste against them. To lean into his body. You couldn't help but allow yourself to touch his waist, gliding your hand down his abs, his stomach, feeling his muscles tighten under your touch. 
He sighed into your mouth, his hands gripping your waist, his fingertips brushing the bare skin under your blouse. His lips felt so good, so soft, so electrifying. This feeling was unlike any other, you were beginning to lose your breath, your senses, your mind.
And when you let out a little moan—without intending to, you were shocked back to reality. You pulled away from him quickly, moving your hands to your sides, trying to catch your breath. Jongho was also huffing, begging for oxygen, as he stood in front of you. His lips were bright red now; his eyes were wide.
“Ah, um,” you cleared your throat, forcing out a laugh. “So, did I do a good job?”
Jongho blinked, still looking out of it. “Huh? Oh, uh, yeah.” He swallowed, nodded, and crossed his arms across his chest. “Mhm. For your first kiss, you did good.” 
Good? Good? God, that felt euphoric. Like you were drugged, high, out in space. You still couldn't get your heartbeat to slow. “Great.” That was all you managed to squeak out, now that you were suddenly aware of the ability to just kiss him again. You realized that the air was odd now, that something felt different. 
“You tasted like sweat,” you playfully added, letting out an awkward laugh as you gave him a shoulder punch. “Maybe I should've kissed San or Mingi instead.”
“I am a great kisser, I’ll have you know—” Jongho boasted, but you interrupted him. 
“Pfft,” you waved a hand as if you weren't just about to hyperventilate from his kiss, his touch. “You sucked, you’re a horrible teacher—”
“Oh?” he huffed, gripping your arms just below your elbows. “I’ll kiss you again, I’ll prove it, I’ll do you one better—”
“Fine! More practice for me, anyway.”
Jongho let out a grumble of incoherent words before grabbing you by the back of the neck and pressing his mouth to yours once more, his lips gliding against yours. 
You grabbed the fabric of his shirt, tightening your grip as he pushed his tongue through your lips, into your mouth. You let out a sigh as he did it, his fingertips gripping your hair on the back of your head.
After a long few minutes of eating each other, He pulled away this time. He let go of you, his hands falling at his sides. “There,” he breathed. “Now you know how to handle a kiss like that. You know, just in case.”
You licked your bottom lip, sparks still flying around your body. You tasted him still, the saltiness of his sweat. You smelled the woodsy cologne he used, the minty taste of gum. 
“Thanks,” you smiled, trying your best not to let these thoughts of him overtake you. “For helping me with this. You’re such a good best friend.”
“Ah, yeah,” he sniffed, forcing a smile. “I should, uh. I should go, I have something to submit before midnight, so,” He gulped, taking a step away from you. “But happy to help, of course. Now you owe me my paper.”
“Aye, aye, captain,” you scoffed, smiling playfully as he walked to the door to put on his shoes.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” he called out as he opened the door, leaving after you offered him a wave goodbye.
And once the door shut, you nearly lost your breath, falling onto your bed.
“Oh god,” you breathed, putting a hand to your mouth. “What was that? I—ugh!” you groaned, thrashing your legs around. “Why the fuck was he so hot? Get a grip, get a grip.” you ran your hands aggressively through your hair and gripping it. “Fuck I think my brain lost too much oxygen.”
You couldn't sleep one bit—not at all. Every time you closed your eyes, all you saw was Jongho, and all you felt was him.
A few days pass and you barely see your best friend.
It's not that he’s ignoring you or vice versa; it's that he had an away game a good distance away and was off campus for a good few days. 
While he was gone, you wondered if he was thinking the same way you were, if he felt something, too, or if it was just normal to have feelings during a kiss. 
Irritated by your stupid mind, you were unsure about the feeling in your chest when you saw Jongho in the library; his baseball hat flipped backwards over his soft brown hair.
You would look odd if you ran away, right? Right.
You strutted over to where he was sitting. He always loved the window seats, mainly to people watch. You sat down in the seat across from him.
“When’d you get back?”
He lifted his eyes to yours. “Last night,” he grumbled, flipping a page in the book in front of him.
“What are you reading?” you leaned forward on your elbows.
He reacted much worse than you thought, flying backward into his chair, a terrified look on his face. 
“Yo, I’m not gonna bite you, Jeez,” you raised a brow, moving your gaze to the book. “Oh, ew, anatomy. No thanks.”
He scoffed, picking off an invisible—or maybe an extremely small—piece of lint from his black hoodie. He didn't say anything in response, he just continued what he was doing.
“So,” you tried to continue the conversation with him without it turning to mush. “I’m gonna be going to Seonghwa’s frat tonight. There's a party or something.”
He looked at you with shock. “You’re going to a party?”
“Is that so hard to believe?” you rolled your eyes, leaning back to cross your arms around your chest. Jongho’s vision dipped to the movement.
“Well, given that you hate crowded places,” he trailed off, not really having another excuse. “I just can't see you going to—”
“y/n?” a voice softly murmured from your left, and both you and Jongho turned to see Seonghwa walking up to your table, a bag slung across his broad shoulder. His hair was pulled up in a half up half down do, little black strands framing his unfathomable face.
Jongho, in the corner of your eye, looked away from the tall basketball player, opting for the view outside the library.
“Seonghwa?” you smiled, uncrossing your arms to look less like a grumpy bitch. “What’s up?”
You didn't even look to see the irritation on Jongho’s face.
“I was coming in to study but then I saw you in the corner of my eye,” he smiled, beamed, really, adjusting the bag on his shoulder. He then nodded to Jongho, offering him a smile, too. “Hey, Jongho.”
Your best friend managed to give him a smile back, although you knew his face all too well—that was a damn grimace. “Hey.” 
You looked between the two boys as seonghwa spoke again. “Hey, me and y/n are gonna be at the party tonight. You wanna come? The other guys on the team will be there, too.”
“Well, I can't imagine San missing a function,” Jongho scoffed, cracking his knuckles aggressively. “But I guess I’ll come, too.”
You nearly dropped your jaw onto the floor.
“Really?” you interjected, shocked. “I can't imagine you going to a party—”
“Anyway,” Jongho cleared his throat, ignoring you. “What time?”
Seonghwa furrowed his brows as he tried to recall. “Uh, I think ten? It goes till two, no later,” He looked to you then. “Do you wanna go for some lunch?”
You blushed. Jongho huffed. “Oh, yes. That would be nice,” you smiled, to which Jongho rolled his eyes in response. You stood up from your seat and offered your best friend a playful wink. “See you tonight, jongie.”
When you walked away, seonghwa slugged an arm around your shoulder on the way out. Jongho, still in his seat, tightened his grip on the textbook as he watched you leave.
And then he couldn't even enjoy people-watching when he saw you walk down the sidewalk with that string bean.
You didn't hear from jongho the rest of the day, and even when ten o’clock came, he was M.I.A. You shrugged it off, trying too hard to ignore the tug in your chest, the desire to go to his room and kiss him again. 
You made it to the frat house that sat on the end of the Greek life strip in town. It was a tall, skinny building that looked way too nice to be lived in by a bunch of boys. You made sure to wear your filthy Converse, knowing damn well whether booze, puke, or a plethora of other fluids would end up all over them. Despite not going to many parties in your lifetime, you still had common sense. 
You walked into the house, getting bombarded with tons of odd smells, some good and some bad. The interior was dark, lit with random colored lights that danced all over the walls, the people. 
Loud, ungodly music blared through oddly positioned speakers in the wall, and there was a sea of people talking and carrying on. You weren't sure how the fuck they could hear each other over the awful music.
You walked further into the house, making a B-line to where you assumed the alcohol was. There was a bunch of beer cans, and you grabbed one with ease, cracking it open and chugging it like a champ. However, the beer sucked ass, leaving an awful taste in your mouth. You must've made a face.
“Icky?” Seonghwa’s smooth voice envelopes you with comfort. 
You turn to him, offering him a sincere smile. He looked great, as always, with his hair growing even longer. “Very, but if it gets me drunk, I’ll handle it.”
“So brave,” he chuckled, standing closer to you by the second. Your mind wanders to the thought of him touching you. Would it feel as good as it did with Jongho? Would his hands be gentle? Would his lips taste as sweet? 
His hand on the small of your back interrupted your thoughts.
You needed to be drunk. Quick, so you can handle these stupid ideas.
“It’s good to see you here,” he starts, but you can't help but look at his lips. You weren't thinking about them—no, rather, you were thinking of Jongho’s. Would Seonghwa feel the same?
You took another sip of your drink to get the last drop before grabbing another. “Do they have something else? This shit sucks.”
Seonghwa looked at you for a long moment before nodding in a direction. “There’s vodka in the cabinet if you want it?”
You let out a sigh of relief, but still, you kept drinking the shitty beer. “Yes, god, yes.”
After you got ahold of the vodka, you regretted your choice against the beer.
You must've blacked out for a bit—you don't remember how you got in the living room, how you got onto Seonghwa’s lap, how his lips were on your neck. You delightfully craned your neck to feel it better, to feel his hot breaths, his hands on your waist. However, when you opened your eyes, you realized that you were imagining someone else under you.
You pulled away from him, but you didn't get off him. You looked into his eyes, seeing the desire drip from them. You were too messed up—blame that on your shitty tolerance, to care what you were doing right now. “Can I try something?” you fluttered your eyelashes, not meaning it in a sultry way, but it came out that way.
“Of course,” Seonghwa mused, a little smile prickling at his lips.
Lips that you wanted to kiss—not because you needed to, but because you needed to see something, feel something—have something to compare to that ethereal experience you had with your best friend.
And at his approval, you leaned forward, doing everything that you were taught, and pressed your lips to Seonghwa’s. He responded well, gripping the back of your head as he kissed you back, and you slid your tongue in his mouth, half expecting to feel something, anything.
But there you were, imagining Jongho, his smell, his taste, the way he cautiously touched you and held you. Nothing can compare, not even this.
You pulled away from him, eyebrows raised, mouth agape. He looked confused at your reaction but put on a sloppy smile. “Everything okay?”
You were going to say no. you were going to cry out and say that you were going to die because you kept thinking about Jongho. You couldn't even kiss a hot guy, a guy you wanted to date, without thinking how much better it felt with Jongho. Everything felt better with him. It was comfortable, unnerving, exciting, all at the same time.
You smiled, but with how drunk you were, you could assume that it looked like a grimace. “I uh, yeah, I just gotta….go do something—-bye,” you huffed out, offering him a little, awkward wave, before you ran out of the spinning room.
You ended up on the back porch, not sure how you got there, but the world was spinning. Your chest was aching. You needed air, anything, you needed to breathe.
The cool air hit you just right, enveloping your lungs, helping you breathe. Your skin was hot, flaming underneath your clothes, and you were sure your cheeks were bright red. After noticing a couple making out in the corner, you grimaced and ran back into the house.
God, what a shitshow.
You avoided seonghwa narrowly, making your way up the creaky, thin staircase to get your own space. You opened the first door you got to, tossed yourself in, and slammed your back against the door with a sigh of relief.
That relief didn't last long.
“y/n, what the hell?” Jongho nearly screeched, turning his body slightly as he stood over the toilet, zipping up his pants in a frenzy. “The fuck? Don't you know how to knock?”
You didn't say anything. You just took a deep breath, your gaze falling over him.
“y/n?” He repeated, standing a bit awkwardly on the other side of the room, leaning over to flush the toilet. He looked a bit rough around the edges as he washed his hands quickly, looking over at you as he dried them. He walked up to you now, hesitantly, unsure about your expression.
You fiddled with your fingers as the world slowed around you.
“Are you gonna talk?” He scoffed playfully, his eyes raking your body, forcing themselves up to your face. “Are you okay?”
“No,” you swallowed, shaking your head, the door behind you the only thing holding you up.
He gave you a concerned look, running a damp hand through his silky hair, and you couldn't help but think about how wonderful it would be to rake your hands through it, too. “No, that you're not okay, or no, that you’re not gonna talk?
You blinked. “....yes.”
He sighed. His eyes looked hazy, not quite to the extent yours probably looked, but still, he was not in his right mind, either. You took a shaky breath, watching those brown irises fall to your lips, to your chest. 
You clench your fingers together, your body, dying to do something your heart would regret. You swallowed hard, sighing.
“Aren’t you acting like this because you have something to say?” He asked, his words dripping like honey from his lips.
You shook your head. “No.”
He looked like he was fighting a smile. “I think you are.”
“No, I’m not–I’m not acting like this because I have something to say.” Your mind was already screaming at you, begging you not to do anything. Begging you not to say anything. “Because I want to do something.”
The air was stuffy. The bathroom was filthy, the window was cracked open, blowing in a slight breeze, gently running up your arms, sending chills down your spine. 
Jongho tilted his head. “To do what?”
The vodka in your basically vodka-virgin body was bubbling under your skin, infiltrating your mind, your blood. It was taking control over your every move, every idea, everything. So when he asked you that, when he looked like the most beautiful person in the world as he spoke, with his pretty ass hair and his lips and his flushed cheeks, you knew what you wanted to do.
“To kiss you,” you didn't stutter. You stayed put against the door despite your words. “I just wanna do it again. Every time I look at you, I want to do it.”
Jongho’s eyes widened, but he didn't run away like you thought he would. He just stood there, breathlessly, his hands at his sides and his mouth parted. It’s like he wanted to do it too, with the way his fingers twitched as you spoke, with the way his lips almost curled up completely. 
You pushed off the door, taking a step towards him. When he didn't back away, you took another step. You were so close to him that you were able to feel the soft, hot breaths he was letting out against your skin. His breath smelled like that disgusting beer, but it didn't matter at all—actually, you wanted to taste it on his lips, on his tongue.
You reached out a hand, the room spinning around you. Your fingertips met his cheek, his hot skin. You felt a surge of electricity run through your body as you touched him, as you looked into his eyes. His gaze was unlike anything else you have ever seen. His eyes were zeroed in on you, shutting slowly as you rubbed your hand against his skin. He let out a soft breath, a content sigh, and his eyes were on yours again.
He took in a breath, eyes on your lips. You were too drunk to think about how the look on his face made no sense—friends shouldn't look at each other the way he was looking at you.
You leaned forward, and when he didn't flinch away, when he actually leaned forward as well, you smiled to yourself, and pressed your lips to his.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his body to yours. His hips knocked into yours, his mouth parting, swallowing you whole. He shoved you against the sink, the countertop stabbing the small of your back, but you felt absolutely no pain. You arched your body into his, as if it were instinct, and his hands ravaged your bare skin. He was desperate, trying to catch his breath as best he could while he kissed you. 
Your hands found the nape of his neck, fingers tightening in his brown hair. He let out a little moan into your mouth, his hands caging you in against the sink. Accidentally, his forehead bumped yours, causing you to bite his lip. 
You pulled away, but just for a moment, smiling at him, at the redness of his lips from your gloss and your bite. He looked breathtaking in front of you, so human, so perfect. So you leaned in to kiss him again, nose knocking into his, but it didn't matter if you were sloppy. It just mattered that he was the one you were kissing. 
“y/n,” he breathed against your lips, his hands now on your hips, one curving around your ass. “We shouldn't be doing this—”
“Shh,” you hissed, slapping his shoulder, keeping your lips against his. “I don't care right now.”
You deepened the kiss, and as he pressed up against you, you felt something hard press into you; you felt a deep rumble from him into your mouth. The pool between your thighs.
Suddenly, the door to the bathroom opened. Mingi stood there, his jaw down to the floor, as he took in the scene in front of him. Jongho must not have heard the door, as his hands were still clawing at you like a goddamn animal, his lips on your neck now. You quickly gripped Jongho’s shoulders and pushed him away.
“What? You just said—” He took notice of where you were looking, turning his head to see Mingi’s shocked expression. “Oh.”
“Oh, dear god!” Mingi looked like he couldn't hide the smile peeking through his lips. “I knew it!”
Jongho took a whole century taking his hands off you, finally stepping away, leaving you cold, empty. “It’s not what you think—”
Mingi threw his hands up in the air, smirking. “Ay, I didn't see anything. Carry on.”
With one last look, Mingi shut the door, leaving you alone with Jongho. The feeling in the room was completely different from a moment ago.
“I….” he started, then sighed, unable to look at you. “I gotta go.”
“Jongho—” You went to move toward him, but he left the bathroom as quickly as he could, stumbling into the doorframe, and out of sight. You were left to your own devices, standing in the middle of the bathroom, hair a mess, lips bright and painful, and a mark on your neck from your best friend.
If you could call him that…
It’s as if he disappeared.
You haven't seen Jongho in days. You were even too nervous to go to his room this time, not knowing how to approach him after kissing him like that. After you felt the hardness of his cock against your stomach. The wetness between your thighs. Something you have never felt before.
After a few, empty, lonely nights in your room, you took the initiative to go find him at the late hour of midnight—To ask if he feels this intense craving for you just like you do for him. But when you arrived at his dorm, San told you he wasn't there.
“He’s been super sick. I thought he was with you,” He shrugged, confused.
“He’s sick?” your eyes widened. 
San nodded, messy hair from sleep. “Sorry, maybe he’s with Mingi?”
After your encounter with San, you made your way to Mingi’s dorm. But, once again, Jongho was nowhere to be found.
So you went to the only place you thought to look.
And there he was, under the bright lights, taking a shot at the three-point line on the courts near the rec center. He missed the shot and stood there a moment before going to grab his rebound.
But the ball rolled to where you were, as if it meant to. Jongho stood still as you grabbed the ball.
He stayed silent. You weren't sure whether to move closer or just pass him the ball back.
“Are you going to give me it?” He spoke blandly, sweat dripping down his forehead despite the cold air surrounding him.
You sighed, putting the ball under your arm. “Jongho, it’s cold out here.”
He sniffed, his nose red. He didn't look at you. “Just give me the ball, dammit.”
You blinked, watching the cold air show as you exhaled. “Why are you ignoring me?”
He rolled his eyes, taking in a breath. “Dammit, y/n—”
“You’re doing it on purpose,” you began to dribble the ball—very sloppily, but it didn't matter. You dribbled past him towards the hoop, tossing the ball up, watching it go through the net. “Ignoring me, I mean.”
“No, I’m not,” he huffed, moving to grab the ball from your shot. He made his way back up to the top of the key, away from you.
“Yes, you are.” you walked up to him, putting your hand out so he couldn't shoot. “Just be honest!”
With a huff of cold air, jongho tossed the ball away, an aggravated look on his face. “For fuck’s sake, y/n, Yes. I’m annoyed.”
You blinked, standing only a few feet away from him. “Why?” you asked, probably stupidly, given the irritated look on his face.
He sighed, tightening his hands into fists. “...Because….because I’m a man, too, you know.” he started, running his hands through his hair aggressively, clenching his jaw. “ You change in front of me, kiss me, do everything that causes my brain to spin. I’m sick of acting like I'm okay with it.”
You stood there, frozen. The air felt even colder as winter wrapped its arms around your bare skin.
“Does that mean you didn't like it?” you wondered out loud, possibly too immature, too inexperienced. You had no idea what you were feeling, why you felt this way. All you knew is that you wanted to spend every moment with him, to kiss him, to lay in bed with him. Things you did normally, but things felt different. 
“Didn't like what?” He asked, his eyes wide.
“The kiss,” you looked into his eyes. “The kisses.”
Jongho stood tensely, unsure of what to do. You watched his eyes flicker up to the sky as little flurries fell, catching themselves in his hair.
“y/n,” he took a sharp breath in. “don't you get it? I can't kiss you. You can't kiss me. You can't….touch me like that, change in front of me, and not expect me to get flustered!” He nearly shouted the last part, and turned to the side away from you, aggravated beyond words.
“I….I’m sorry,” you spoke out, taking a step towards him. “I’m sorry that I feel this way—”
“Feel what?” he scoffed, turning back to you, a pained smirk on his lips. “You should be sorry for making me feel this….for causing me so many headaches, for god sake why the fuck am I out here when it’s fucking snowing, jesus christ you piss me off—”
“Jongho,” you interrupted his freakout, his word vomit. He stared at you with those beautiful eyes of his. “What are you trying to say?” you spoke in a small voice.
His eyes were frantic, going back and forth from eye to eye. “I…. can't do this.”
“Do what?” you felt the flurries dance against your skin, dance as they fell around you.
“I can't act like your friend anymore.” He bit his lip. “You have no idea what you do to me. What you’ve been doing to me.”
You took a step closer, but he backed away.
“I don't understand—”
“Just go,” He pleaded. 
“You do things to me too!” you groaned, finally done with his attitude. “Will you knock it off? You’re not the only one confused here—”
“Oh, I confuse you?” He looked at you like you had two heads. “I’m sorry, I only kissed you because you were trying to get another guy. I kissed you so you could know how to do it, but you want to know something?” He paused, suddenly right up on you, the space gone between you. “I haven't kissed anyone either. I just…you. It’s just been you! I didn't know what I was doing, either!”
“Is that so bad?” you pleaded, your eyes bleeding into his. “Is it so bad that you had to kiss me? Should I apologize for wanting to do it again? That I haven't stopped thinking about you since?” you frantically looked into his eyes. 
“Just…” Jongho sighed, his eyes a bit watery. “Lleave me be.” 
The look on his face was enough. You took a step back, and then another. 
“I won't apologize for my feelings, for whatever this feeling is,” you admitted. “But I am sorry I caused you trouble.” before you left him there, you looked up to him once more, snow falling around you. “Good luck at your game, tomorrow.”
You turned on your heel, not understanding a single thing that just unfolded, that was just said. He made no sense; you made none, either. It was just a bunch of words, unnecessary words, rifting your friendship. But one thing was for certain—you couldn't repair this without a few missing pieces. 
Jongho stood as still as a statue as he watched you walk away.
You sat on the bench in your cheerleading uniform, your heart beating a mile a minute as you watched the game unfold in front of you. 
It was approaching halftime. Jongho was sprinting down the sideline, limping slightly as he moved. He passed the ball beautifully to San, who was wide open for the layup. 
You couldn't focus on anything—didn't even cheer when San made the shot. You just sat and stared into space, your eyes following jongho, watching his wince as he backed up down the court. 
“He’s hurt,” you muttered under your breath, stomach tightening. 
Jongho continued playing his heart out, but you knew something was wrong. However, as halftime came, he walked away from the court just fine and into the locker room, not giving you a single passing glance as he walked past you. Seonghwa did, however, but you weren't even paying attention to that.
After a few long moments, the team came back out. You had to cheer, but your heart wasn't in it. Jongho, once again, walked right by you, and when you were about to jump up and ignore everything that was said yesterday to make sure you were okay, the buzzer rang. 
The game went on, the score going back and forth until the last quarter. Jongho stood at mid-court, calling a play, but the guy guarding him was aggressive. He tried to make a move around him, squeaking his sneakers against the hardwood, but it was no use. The defender followed him with ease, sliding his feet in perfect position.
The gym was in hysterics as Jongho pushed for the bucket, taking a side step into a euro step, but suddenly, oh so suddenly, Jongho crashed to the ground in a thud before getting the shot off.
The gym went silent. Jongho hissed in pain, his eyebrows knit tight. The athletic trainer ran out to see him as the game was put on hold with less than a minute to go. You stood up, not even realizing what you were doing. All you could feel was a pain in your chest as you saw him hurt, the intense feeling to take his pain away. You watched in despair as he was lifted off the floor, as he was carried out of the gym.
You swallowed hard, your ears ringing. Your teammates tried to get you focused, as the game was going to continue, but you jumped up and pushed through, making your way to the locker room desperately. 
“Jongho?” you panted, turning the corner to enter the boy's locker room. You sucked in a breath as you see him in pain, lying down on the bench, a few others around him as he nearly cried in pain. 
“Jongho!” you cried out, rushing to his side. His eyes were frantic, wide, a mess. The trainer took off his knee brace slowly as you approached. “Oh my god, are you okay?”
Jongho met your gaze through his watery eyes, every other emotion gone other than…whatever this was. He almost let out a sigh of relief as he saw you. You knelt down next to him, gripping his hand, and he held yours tighter. 
“y/n,” he murmured, sucking in a sharp breath as the trainer surveyed his leg. “Did I…did I do it again? Please tell me I didn't—”
You looked at the man who was assessing his injury. “Did he tear it again?” you panicked, remembering how awful this was for him back then. How traumatizing it was, how horrible it was for him to gain his strength again. You couldn't stand to see him in pain.
“I…I don't know,” the man admitted. “It’s too swollen to tell. You’ll need to get this checked out—”
“Goddammit,” Jongho hissed, shutting his eyes tightly, and swallowing hard. That was when you realized that it might not even be the pain from the injury—no, it was his trauma. The memory of his hard work all down the drain. 
“I’m here,” you breathed, tucking his hair behind his ear and away from his face. “It’ll be okay.”
The buzzer rang, and screams followed. Jongho looked at you, not a care in the world other than that you were there with him, just like before.
“You’ll be alright,” you repeated softly, your heart aching at his pain. “This will be okay.”
“From the MRI, it looks like everything is still intact,” the doctor spoke with a tone of arrogance. “You did weaken your surgical graft, however. You’ll need some PT and rest.”
Jongho stared down at his leg, his hand still gripping yours. He breathed a sigh of relief but didn't say anything else. 
“I’ll write up a referral for that, so just hold on a moment.”
You were left in silence in the middle of the emergency room, Jongho sitting up straight on the bed with a big icepack on top of his knee. He was starting right at it, his lips downturned.
You wanted to ease his troubles. To make him feel better. Nothing felt worse than seeing him like this.
You didn't know what to say. You really couldn't say anything. You were so overwhelmed with the pain you felt as you looked at him as if it were your own. You hated his tears that begged to fall and never did.
“Hey,” you mumbled softly, squeezing his hand. It took him a minute to move his gaze to you, and when he did, his eyes spoke a thousand words. “See? It will be okay.”
He sighed, his face contorting as he fought his tears. “I…I’m sorry.”
“For what?” you weren't thinking of anything else other than what was in front of you. You rubbed your thumb against his knuckles, trying to soothe him.
“For how I acted.” He looked down at your hands, how yours was touching his, how his fingers were tight around yours. He didn't want to let go—neither did you. “I was just upset.”
“I know,” you nodded, swallowing. “I was, too.”
He looked into your eyes. “y/n, I…” he paused, the beeping of his heart rate speeding up in the background. “I just don't know why I acted like that I…I guess I got caught up in how I feel about you, and it confused me.”
You blinked. “How do you feel about me?”
He let out an uneasy laugh. “Isn't it obvious?”
You shook your head. “I… don't really know much of anything. Much of these feelings,” you acknowledged, biting your bottom lip anxiously. 
He let out a genuine laugh. “Me too.”
“So, how do you feel?” You tucked a piece of your hair that fell loose from your bow, suddenly aware of how much of a wreck you probably looked like. You were still in your cheer uniform, Jongho in his basketball one, and you were sure you had smeared mascara everywhere. “About me, I mean.”
He took in a sharp breath. “This isn't fair, I’m like, high from pain meds. I don't know what i’m saying.”
You smiled widely, feeling such immense love for the man in front of you.
Oh shit.
Are you….in love?
“All I know is that I haven't stopped thinking about you since I met you,” He chuckled anxiously. “I don't understand why, and it's just increasingly worse after you keep kissing me, it's making my head spin.”
Jongho yawned slightly after his somewhat confession, his eyes fluttering. 
He was so pretty. So, so pretty. You wanted to sleep with him. Next to him, cuddle with him, kiss his face, his eyelids, his cheeks, his everything. You wanted him to do everything to you that you dreamed of.
Oh fuck, you definitely are in love with him.
“Holy fuck—” you paused, staring at him, wide eyed at your realization.
“What?” He furrowed his brows.
You tried to control your overwhelming thoughts. “I just realized something…” you met his gaze, holding onto it tightly. “Are we…are we in love? I mean, I think at least I might be—”
“Holy shit, we might be,” Jongho gulped, a knowing smile curling at his lips. As if he knew this, at least on his end, for much longer than you have. He looked at you, then at his leg, and back at you. “Are you in love with me?”
“I think so?” you questioned, your chest aching. Jongho’s heart began to beat faster and faster, as seen on the monitor next to him. You leaned towards him, blushing as his heart rate jumped over one hundred. 
Jongho let out an anxious laugh. “You sound super confident.”
You would've kissed him right then and there, prove to him that you loved him, if it wasn't for that awful doctor. 
You helped jongho hobble out of the hospital, his leg wrapped in ice and his arms wrapped around you. You were hyper aware of the smell of sweat, the light remnant of his woodsy cologne. You heard his breath hitch as your fingertips curled around his arm as you walked toward the street for a cab.
“God, standing up really messed me up.” he wobbled a bit. “I don't know what they gave me, but fuck, I feel wonderful,” he giggled, nudging his head into the crook of your neck.
There was a mix of comfort and chaos as you got in the cab, his head on your shoulder, his hair a mess. His arm was slung over you, his eyes closed, his lips parted against your collarbone. He felt comforting, yes, but also his damn lips started to move against your skin.
“Jongho,” you breathed, trying to keep quiet as the cab driver carried on. “Stop it—”
“Mmmh,” he groaned into your neck, kissing it again, trailing up towards your jawline. 
“The fuck, did they give you viagra?” you nearly choked as his hand that was around your shoulder fell to your waist, tightening on the curve above your hip. His hand moved lower, past your hip, meeting the curve right before he could reach your—
“Hey,” you whisper yelled, smacking his cheek lightly. 
He opened his eyes, those brown irises sparkling despite the dark car. “Oh, its y/n,” he smiled, meeting your gaze, but you watched it fall to your lips. “You look pretty.”
You scoffed. “You don't know what you're talking about right now—”
“Oh, I do,” he smiled lopsidedly, his hand now coming up to cradle your cheek. “I know what i’m doing.”
You smirked. “I think you’re loopy.”
“Maybe a little,” he shrugged, smiling, his eyes curving into smiles too. “But I know what I want to do.”
You tilted your head, raising your brows. “And what’s that?”
He smiled villianously, teeth barred. “Do you really want to know?”
You held in your laugh, but managed to nod.
He took in a breath, letting it out in an exaggerated sigh. “I want to fuck you so bad,” he huffed, his head falling right back onto your shoulder. “So, so bad. I’ve always wanted to—”
“Jongho,” you blinked. “You’re high from pain meds, you don't know what you're—”
“Oh, but I do know,” he sat up quickly, eyes dazed, hair a mess on top of his head. He reached out a hand, tucking your hair behind your ears with a boyish smile. He focused on your face, on your eyes, your lips. His expression changed, his smile falling. “I wanted to tell you about how I feel about you.”
You bit your lip. “You did.” 
He waved a hand, flopping it around. “Nah, I didn't.”
“Yes, don't you remember?” you scoffed playfully. “We just had this whole talk like twenty minutes ago—”
“Aye, stop it, I had something to say but now I forgot!” he groaned, tossing his head back against the headrest. He then turned his head to your direction. “Did I ever tell you how pretty you are?”
“You just did,” you smiled.
“Oh, that’s right.” he swallowed, looking at your lips. “Did I ever tell you that I want to kiss you? Like, all the time?”
You shook your head, giving up on the fight against his high ass. 
“Well, I just want to kiss you, over and over again, and then when you started kissing me, I think I went crazy,” he blinked slowly, eyes covering every inch of your face. He leaned forward. “You really fucked me up, you know?”
You frowned. “Did I?”
“Pfft,” he huffed. “Are you kidding? You would change in front of me, lay in bed with me, touch me, everything I….” he swallowed hard. “How was I supposed to react to your tits? Your ass? You think i’ve never gotten hard from it?” you wanted to shut his nonsense up, but he kept going on. “I’ve had to literally leave just to jack off so you didn't find out—”
“Woah, woah,” you rose your eyebvrows. “You’re a mess right now, youll regret what you’re saying tomorrow—”
“I wont,” he sniffed, eyes meeting yours. “I’m done with acting like I don't think about you naked—”
“Jongho, shut it, we’re not alone—”
“We should be alone so I can do everything I want to you,” he pressed a sloppy kiss to your temple. “God, I want to do everything to you.”
You wanted to push him away. You wanted to tell him no—but…his lips, his words, his breath felt so good, so intoxicating. He pressed a kiss to your jaw, to the corner of your lips. “Can we fuck now?”
You closed your eyes, taking in a breath. “The hell is wrong with you? We’re in a cab—”
He ignored you, his lips continuing to find their way around your face. “When we get back?”
You looked down at his knee, how it was wrapped, how much pain it had caused him. “You just hurt your leg, and you’re not in your right mind.”
“Oh, i’m completely in my right mind,” he kissed your ear, letting a little breath of air tickle you. “I’ve wanted this forever.”
You sighed, your breath shaking, your chest tight. You had absolutely no experience—you’ve never had sex, never did anything with a man other than what you were doing now, and the little kiss you gave seonghwa. 
“I’m a virgin,” you whispered softly, embarrased. However, you felt the most comfortable with jongho. He was your everything.
“So am I,” he admitted, smiling. “We can learn together.”
“God, we’re so lame,” you breathed, smiling. 
Jongho, however, did not care about any words. He nuzzled into your collarbone, pressing a kiss there, over and over again. 
“So, does that mean we can have sex?”
You assisted jongho into your building, helping him into the elevator and pressing your floor while he leaned against the wall. 
The silence was deafening. You were sure he was able to hear your heart beat through your chest.
As the doors closed, you let a sigh out. 
“y/n,” he breathed. Behind you, his eyes were on you.
“Hm?” you hummed, afraid to turn to him, afraid of what you would do, what he would do. 
“I love you,” he spoke. 
You’ve both basically said it only an hour before. Only then, it didn't feel real. Now, maybe it was the fact that Jongho’s eyes have cleared up, his expression was raw. He looked nervous, he looked anxious. This was all new, all foreign—but Jongho wasn't new, wasn't different. He’s always been him, been by your side, your rock, your everything.
“I….love you too, dummy.”
When the elevator reached your floor, it took you a second to move. You helped him down the hall, and when you reached your door, you paused.
“Do you…want to…” you trailed off, unsure if that was only the drugs talking earlier.
When you turned to jongho, he had a sinister smile on his face. 
“You mean,” he nodded toward your room. “What I think you mean?”
“Well, jeez,” you scoffed, turning around to open your door. “As if you weren't the one all over me in the cab—”
A second later, you both stood in the entrance of your room, both of your hearts beating like crazy.
He entered the room after you, slowly shutting the door. The room was dark—you weren't even trying to turn the lights on.
You turned to jongho, watching him stand with his fists at his sides, his fingers gripping the fabric of his basketball shorts.
“How do we…” you took in a sharp breath, meeting his gaze. His eyes were wide, dripping with love, lust, with so much. You weren't sure if they always looked like that, if they looked at you like that. Those eyes….
“Let’s just, he winced a bit as he stepped closer. “Just stay where you are.”
When he got close enough, you saw the worry in his expression. The hesitancy, the love. He looked up, and his eyes spoke a thousand unspeakable words. His hand reached out, pausing at the hem of your cheerleading uniform. 
You let out an anxious laugh at his face, as he looked so conflicted. You didn't say anything though, and after a moment, he tugged your top right over your head, grinning like a goofball at the red lacy bra you had on.
“For me?” he murmured, his hand subconsciously drifting to run over your skin, his fingertips pressing against the thin fabric of your bra. He met your gaze, his jaw tightening.
You reached for his top now, the loose jersey easily pulling over his head—the jersey that was hiding the soft curves of muscle. You’ve seen him shirtless many times, an unimaginable amount of times—but this time, it was different. You ran a hand down the pane of his chest, across the mounds of muscle, down his soft but muscular frame. He was perfect, absolutely sexy, breathtaking, gorgeous. 
He shivered under your touch, meeting your gaze. He moved to take his shorts off, but winced. “Hold on, i’ll take them off—” but you both leaned down at the same time, crashing your heads together, causing a storm of laughter.
“God, we’re so not good at this,” He chuckled, smiling bright even in the dark room.
“No, not really,” you grinned, reaching down at his hips, pulling his shorts off, tugging a bit at the erection that bulged out. You held in your pride, the fact that he was already so turned on by just taking your clothes off.
His shorts fell down to his ankles, his underwear with them, leaving him completely naked, completely vulnerable in front of you. He looked at you with those damn eyes, those irises that held every emotion possible for you.
You took a second to take him in, his thickness, his length. You swallowed hard, suddenly aware that…that would go inside you, and it would probably tear your virgin self to shreds.
He then gripped the waistband of your skirt, tugging you to him. He was slightly taller than you, so when your body hit his, you felt his cock against your lower stomach, feeling a pulsing ache in your body. His fingers glided against the bare skin of your waist as he pulled your skirt over your hips, and when they fell, you were left standing in your mismatched underwear, begging him to take it off of you, too.
However, he just stood there like a deer in headlights, staring at the curves of your body, and the smoothness of your skin. His mouth parted, his eyes grew wide, and his hands twitched to touch you, to ravage you, to swallow you whole as if you were roadkill and he was a vulture.
An anxious vulture.
He reached around you, the heat of his body warming you, and his hands clasped around the clip of your bra. He fiddled with it for a good moment, and as he started getting irritated that he couldn't get it, you laughed. “Goddamn this thing has you locked up like fort knox—”
“Do you want me to get it—”
“No, no, i’ll be extremely embarassed, let me do it.” he continued to try to get it off you, and finally, it fell off you, onto the ground, and Jongho stood with a proud smile on his lips. “Fuck yeah, finally.”
But, right after his words of triumph, his eyes fell to your full breasts. His eyes widened, and he gave into his desires, letting himself grab one, calloused fingers gliding against your nipple.
“Oh, fuck y/n,” he breathed, both his hands coming up to cradle your breasts, to feel you up. He took in a breath, eyes unable to leave your body. “You’re absolutely beautiful.”
He dipped his head, taking in a breast into his mouth, flicking his tongue over your nipple. You felt your stomach tighten, felt your wetness pool at your thighs. He looked up to your eyes as he sucked, and when he saw your ecstatic expression, he quickly pulled away.
He didn't spare an extra second to claw at your underwear, satisfyingly watching them fall to the ground, leaving you both completely naked in the middle of the room. He looked at you, love dripping from his chocolate eyes.
And thats when you gripped the back of his neck. “I’m sorry if I don't do this very well,” you admitted, twirling your fingers in his hair. He didn't seem to even hear what you said as his eyes remained on your lips.
“God, we cant be friends anymore,” he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours, he hesitated, lips hovering over yours, his breath shaky, tangling with yours. “Definetly not, fuck.”
You tilted your chin forward, lips so close, so so close. His hands found your hips, fingernails leaving marks in your skin. 
And with one last look into your eyes, jongho sighed, letting go of everything. He pressed his soft lips to yours, taking you in like he hasn't kissed you before. Like he’s always wanted to. He breathed into you, moving his hands to cradle your face, to get as close to you as possible. 
You arched your body against his, bucking your hips into his, and he grunted in response. You fell backwards onto the bed, him on top of you, but as you fell, he bit your lip so hard you let out a little yelp.
“Oh shit,” he gasped, parting from you, eyes wide with worry. “Are you okay? Did that hurt? I didn't mean to do that—-”
“Shh, shut your face,” you patted him on the cheek, giggling at his reaction. 
He adjusted himself on top of you. “Here, make sure you’re head’s on your pillow, I want you to be comfortable.” he adjusted you, too, and he looked so sincere and serious it made you laugh. “Why are you laughing?” he asked, but couldn't help but let out a little chuckle, too. “Stop, this is serious.”
You laughed even more. “Sorry, sorry, you’re just really cute.” you watched his eyes twinkle as he looked at you. “And you look so pretty on top of me.”
He smirked, holding back his giggle. “Stop it.”
“I’m just saying,” you reached a hand out to wrap around his neck, tugging his lips right back down to yours, kissing him softly. “Mhm. I cant get enough of this.”
He smiled into the kiss. “Me neither, I cant believe you’re under me right now.”
You couldn't help the blush that heated your cheeks. You were suddenly aware of his dick against your thighs, of your skin against his. You looked into his eyes, looked at how they were looking at you, how he held himself over you. 
And then, after a look of utter love, he smiled and kissed you. This time, he stuck his tongue into your mouth, running over the ridges of the roof of your mouth. You opened your mouth wider, deepening the kiss, knocking your nose against his. 
His lips parted as he gasped for air, his chest heaved against yours. His hand delicately glided up your ribs, meeting the skin of your breasts. He gripped your breast in his hand, moaning into your mouth, hips bucking into yours. You couldve sworn you felt his heartbeat through his chest as he made out with you, as his hands covered you. He pulled away only to make sure you still wanted this, and when you nodded, he reached down to line himself up with you. The concept of sex always felt so difficult. So worrisome, so new. But with jongho, it felt like you've done this forever.
“If it hurts, tell me,” he whispered against your lips, kissing you gently. “I’ll take care of you.”
You literally couldve came at those words. You swallowed hard, and forced out a nod.
He pecked your lips, smiling, kissing them again. His hands hesitated, not knowing what to touch as his tip pressed into your cunt, his breath shortening, sweat dripping down his forehead.
You reached out, gliding a hand across his cheek, across his lips, smiling up at him.
“I….” he hesitated before entering you. “Are you wet enough? Should I spit?”
He looked terrified. Absolutely terrified. So you ran a hand soothingly through his hair, watching his eyes shut tight in pleasure, in delight. “Don't worry about anything and just do it.”
“Okay,” he mumbled, letting out a little laugh. “Okay, okay.”
And then, his eyes bled into yours as he tilted his hips, pushing his cock slowly into you, so gently, as if he was terrified of hurting you. You watched his mouth part, watched his expression change to euphoria as he filled you, every inch sparking a new feeling. 
He snapped his hips, his length fully in you, and you nearly cried out from the feeling. You moaned as he moved slowly, clawing at his shoulders, this feeling unlike anything else—your damn vibrator held nothing on Jongho.
He relaxed his expression, his eyes fluttering open, looking right down on you. You met his gaze as he moved in and out of you.
“Does it hurt, if it hurts, I can stop—”
“Shut the hell up and fuck me, jongho,” you grumbled, your hands finding a home on his hips, the feeling of them snapping under your hands sent you spiraling. You moaned as his dick reached a new spot, as you felt your walls tighten around him. You wanted to cry out, rip your hair out, tear at his skin as you felt the intense crave for him. The way he looked down on you fueled the fire in your hips, in your back. You felt an ache in your hips, slamming your head back, fighting the urge to claw the bedsheets.
But then you sae his grimace, and you frowned. “Oh my god, you’re knee, you’re in pain.”
He kept moving, but he was definitely in pain. “I-I think the meds wore off—”
Without thinking, you pushed him off you, making him roll over so now he was the one on th bottom. You straddled him, looking at his shocked expression, how his breaths quickened, how his cock twitched for you. To be inside you. 
You had an unimaginable amount of knowledge from all your smutty books, so you might as well try to use what you know, right?
“y/n, what are you—”
“Let me please you,” you breathed, and with a slow, calculative movement, you sat on his dick, sliding his length into you, once again gaining the extreme pleasure of his expression and the absolute desperation he expressed. He gasped as you moved up and down on his cock, and he watched you, watched him dissapear into you. He slammed his head back into the pillow, his face contorting, moans fluttering through his lips, his eyebrows knitting together in pleasure and a million other things.
“God, fuck,” his hands gripped your hips as you rode him, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, his breaths shallow. He gasped for air. “You feel so good, oh my god. So fucking good.”
You tossed your head back, resting your hands on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin, the smoothness of it. He blinked up at you, a smile on his lips, completely in bliss.
He moved his hands with you, nearly lifting you up as you moved on his cock, moved on his body. You forgot how strong he was.
“You sure you’ve never done this?” he gasped, his eyes shut tight. “Because fuck, this is better than I ever imagined.”
You smiled down on him, giddy at his words. You moved even faster, causing him to moan, and moan, and moan.
You didn't even know what to say—you just enjoyed his little commentary as he took you in, his gaze dripping like honey.
“Godamn,” he hissed, eyes meeting yours. He looked frantic. “Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he seethed, hips slamming up into yours. “Fuck, you’re so hot, so so hot.”
You felt him twitch inside you, felt your walls collapse. You began to see spots in your vision as he moved his hips, too, just as you were. You felt so much pride as he looked absolutely pathetic underneath you, his gaze hazy, his lips bright red from your kisses.
“I love you, I…love you,” he hissed out. “I love you.”
You reached your climax just from looking at him, crying out in a moan, leaning forward over his body. His hands flooded all over you, sending sparks at every touch, every spot of your body. And when you came, when you felt the rush of cum, the rush of the high finally hit, you continued to move as he did. Then, suddenly, his eyes grew so wide, he lifted you off his cock hastily, gasping for air.
You leaned back on his legs, onto your heels, trying to breathe, trying to see, as his hands grasped his own dick, moving up and down before he came, his cum shooting onto you, over your chest, your boobs, your stomach. You watched him gasp as it happened, his lips curling up in an embarrassed smile.
“Oh, oops,” he laughed, looking absolutely delectable with the hair stuck to his forehead and his eyes wide with pleasure. “Totally meant to do that….”
Something burned under your skin, something foreign, something you never felt before. You’ve only read about this feeling, this moment. But now, here you were. You just had sex, sex with your best friend, and it was the best thing you’ve ever felt before. You needed more, so so much more.
“Please tell me we can do that again,” you breathed, falling onto him, sticking to him, feeling the beat of his heart as you pressed your ear to his chest.
“Oh, fuck yes,” his hand wrapped around you, holding you to him. He pressed a gentle, exasperated his to the top of your head. “You don't even have to ask that, i’m planning on doing that all night.”
You moved a bit so you could lay against his side, totally forgetting about the cum on you that now got all over the place. “You seemed like you knew what you were doing for a virgin,” you side eyed him. “You have to be lying.”
He smirked, a light blush on his cheeks. “Uh, well,” he swallowed, eyes looking all over your face. “I mean, I have been thinking about what I would do if I ever got to sleep with you.”
You furrowed your brows. “You’re so cheesy.”
“Well I didn't get to do exactly what I wanted,” he looked down at your lips, at your body pressed to his. “Because of my damn knee, but,” he pressed a kiss to your nose. “That means we have to do this again.”
“Oh, baby,” you pinched his cheek. “We’ll be doing this way more than we probably should.”
He smiled, that blush still on his face, across his nose. He looked so beautiful, so so pretty, it actually hurt you to look at him.
You kissed him, kissed his lips, his nose, his flushed cheeks. 
And you looked at him, at his eyes, the same eyes you’ve known forever. 
“I love you, Jongho.”
The next morning, you parted ways with a sleepy jongho, late for your early class. You couldn't stop thinking about him all day, that is, until you ran into Mingi and San in the library cafe.
Mingi grinned like the cheshire cat, an eye smile brighter than the sun. “Well, hello there, you.”
You rolled your eyes as the line for the coffee moved. San and Mingi stood behind you, giggling like little kids.
“So, Jongho didn't come back last night,” San started, and you quickly cut in.
“So? He always stays in my room, its not anything odd—”
“Oh, sweetie,” Mingi crossed his arms, grinning. “But it is odd.”
“Why?” you crossed your arms, too, facing him. San stood by with a little chuckle.
“Because he came back to the room before his class and his jersey was on inside out—”
“So? He likes to sleep shirtless—”
“His lips were covered in red lipstick—”
“I don't know what you were talking about—”
“Oh, and he told me that he had sex with you—”
You slammed a hand against San’s mouth, giving him a death glare while mingi giggled like a school girl. You grimaced, pulling your hand away. “Shut up, or i’ll make you.”
“Ooh, so scary,” San waved his hands in the air dramatically. “Anyway, are you dating him now? You better date him, he’s been dreaming of that for so long.”
You blinked. “I mean, we said we loved each other, but nothing about dating….”
Mingi smirked. “Welp, guess you better go figure that out.”
After class, you found yourself in front of Jongho’s door, a shake in your breath as you knocked. He opened the door, shirtless, a smile on his face the minute he met your gaze.
And then he grabbed you by the waist and planted a big kiss onto your lips, smiling into it, and then pulled away.
“Hi,” you smiled.
“Hi.” he tilted his head, looking you up and down.
“I heard you told San everything.”
He bit his lip. “Was I supposed to keep it to myself?”
You shook your head, smiling.
“Do you want to come in?” he hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Mhm,” you nodded, following him in.
The minute the door shut, Jongho slammed you up against it, swallowing you whole with his mouth as he kissed you. His hands gripped the side of your head, tugging at your hair, causing you to let out a hiss. He took the opportunity of your open mouth to shove his tongue into you, exploring your mouth with pleasure. He moaned into you, and you couldn't help but moan yourself.
His hands gripped your thighs, lifting you up, slamming your back into the door as he held you to him. He then started to walk towards his bed, but you realized his injury.
“Jongho, you’re leg,” you breathed with worry, trying to get him to put you down. “You’ll hurt yourself—”
“Shut up,” he spoke into your mouth, indeed shutting you up immediately. You sighed as he kissed you, as he touched you. He gently set you down onto his bed, and you went under his duvet since he kept his room like an icebox. 
He followed you suit, crawling on top of you under the covers, but you had a better idea. Once again, you flipped him so he was on his back, and with one quick look at the shock in his gaze, you kissed his collarbone, then his chest, down his sternum, over the soft muscle of his stomach. You slowly pulled his pants down over his cock, his underwear along with them.
You felt his muscles tighten underneath your lips, you heard his breath hitch as you moved lower and lower, until your lips met the soft skin of his hard cock. He gasped his hands searching for you under the covers, his legs moving in pleasure as you licked his tip.
“Oh my…oh…” he arched his back against your kiss, your hands holding onto his hips as you surrounded your mouth around his erection. He thrashed against you, absolutely liquid in your embrace.
But before you could take him fully, the door of his room opened, and in came san blabbing about god knows what.
You quickly moved, trying to lay flat the best you could to hide. Jongho sat up fast, pulling the blanket up and bunching it around his dick, making sure it wasn't so obvious that you were under there….and that he was literally throbbing hard.
“I ran into y/n earlier, she admitted to it!” san roared, and you assumed he was taking his shoes off considering the sound. “Good for you buddy, I know how long you wanted to tap that—”
“Ah, yeah,” Jongho awkwardly laughed. You wish you could see the look on his face, the embarrassment. Just how long did he want you?
You couldn't help but stroke your hand against his dick, causing him to gasp.
“You alright?” San questioned, now making his way to the other side of the room. 
You continued to rub him. Jongho gripped the blanket tight.
“Peachy,” Jongho grunted.
San didn't speak for a while.
“Are you gonna finally ask her out?”
You paused.
Jongho sighed. “Huh?” he was totally out of it.
“I mean, you’ve been in love with y/n for ages, you might as well make if official while you can.”
“Am I?” Jongho swallowed hard. “Am I in love with her?”
“Ah shut up, you know it,” San scoffed,and a bed creaked—assumingly his. You decided to continue to suck Jongho off, taking him in your mouth, causing him to jolt.
“I uh, i’ll ask her out later,” Jongho took in a breath. “But, um, do you think you could….you know, give me a moment?”
“A moment, why—”San paused, then gasped. “Are you beating your meat right now? Oh fuck man, my bad!”
You nearly cackled against Jongho at the way they conversed with each other, how normal it seemed. It made you wonder how often this happened, how often Jongho did this to himself, how many times he thought about you while doing it…
That turned you on even more.
The minute you heard the door shut, you tossed the covers over your head, meeting Jongho’s shocked, mind-boggled expression.
“Jeez, y/n, fuck,” he couldn't help but smile as he looked at you, as you sucked him. “You’re a freak.”
“Well, you should see the things I read,” you chuckled, and then licked up the column of his cock, causing him to take hold of your head.
He shoved you up and down on his dick, his fingers tearing into your scalp, causing you to choke on him. He groaned, moaned, hummed every note possible, and then without warning, he came into your mouth, his body going still, his eyes open wide as he watched you swallow his load.
Oh, he tasted better than you ever imagined. 
His saltiness still coated your lips as you leaned over to kiss him, his eyes lost in you. He looked so in love, so in lust, in everything.
“Are you gonna ask me out?” you asked in between kisses.
“Mhm,” he leaned into your kiss, not wanting to break apart. 
“Are we dating now?”
Kiss.
He blinked, looking up at you. His smile defined beauty, his lips desire. 
“If you’d like.”
“Of course.”
You kissed him once more, wrapping your arms around his neck, rolling around in bed with him. He chuckled, smiled, nuzzled his head into you. 
“I have practice,” you kissed his cheek, trying to get up, but his arms wrapped around you, holding you to him. “I have to go.”
“One more minute,” he mumbled into your ear as he nibbled it, then kissed it. “Just a minute.”
You smiled. “Okay, fine, I guess I can spare a minute.”
He held you, breathed in your scent, his scent on your lips. He didn't let go, even after the minute, and you hand to force yourself out of his hold.
“Meet me in my room tonight?” you raised a brow,
He nodded. “Of fucking course.”
You quickly tried to fix your hair up, tucking it behind your ears, before you gave your boyfriend a wink while you walked out.
And, funny enough, when you shut the door behind you and turned around, San stood there, smirking devilishly.
“Well damn, when’s it my turn?”
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oceantornadoo · 1 month
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bad day (simon riley x reader, best friends to lovers)
honestly, you should have seen it coming. staying in a safe house with four men who have never ending stomachs? but today, it was the last straw.
“you ate my last cookie?”
soap’s face dropped, jaw open. your voice was on the verge of breaking, tears forming in your eyes. you never showed this much vulnerability in front of the team, and he was flabbergasted. he shot a look at gaz, who was equally as confused. “‘m sorry, bonnie, i didnae ken-“ you pushed your hands on the table, shoving your chair back and out. “it’s ok. gonna take a nap.” you were wiping your eyes furiously, feeling unstable. first you got your period four days early (asking price to add pads to the shopping list was something you never wanted to experience again), then you couldn’t find your heating pad, and now your cookies were out? maybe it was the hormones, but you were done.
“oof.” you had ran into a thick wall. scratch that, the wall was moving. your vision was blurred by tears you refused to shed that you didn’t even realize it was your closest friend ghost. “dove?” you hiccuped. why did he always have to be so nice to you? gruff and mean-sounding to everyone else, but an avid listener and sweet talker when it came to you. “jus’ trying to get to my room, didn’t see you. sorry l.t..” you tried to maneuver around him, but unfortunately a 6’4 machine of a man did not move easily.
“why you cryin’, baby?” shit, simon did not mean to call you that. he did not want to have this conversation right now, especially when you looked like you were about to break down. you were always so strong, having to work ten times harder as a woman in the military, and he was always careful to not undermine you or your struggles. unfortunately, that landed him firmly in the friendzone for the past year, unable to confess his feelings without breaking your trust. he maneuvered you to the closest room, which happened to be his. he sat down on the bed, intending to sit you down next to him, but instead you still stood, walking in between his parted legs.
“‘m sorry, just on my period and everything hurts and it’s all hitting at once.” your eyes were red, avoiding his. he could see you were in pain, and as someone who had endured enemy torture and the hardest forms of training, his heart never hurt as much as it did now. he reached a gloved hand towards your face, brushing away your tears. his other hand came to your lower belly, rubbing circles over your clothes. “shhh, ‘s okay. you wanna sit down?” you shook your head in disagreement. you felt like a child, but you were never allowed to be weak outside of your own room. for some reason today, you let simon riley see you weak.
you walked around his body and laid on top of his covers, curling into a fetal position. he let you get comfy, finding a way to lay down that lessened your cramps. finally, you were done moving. “si?” you never called him that unless you absolutely needed him. he got up and locked the door, not wanting to disturb your peace. “yeah, baby?” might as well use it now, you hadn’t complained. if anything your face softened when he said it, and simon riley would die a thousand deaths just to see a moment of relief on your face. “will you lay with me?”
he eagerly stripped out of his gear, climbing on top of his bed to lay down with you. he placed a hand on your arm, letting you choose where you wanted him. you dragged his hand under your sweatshirt, using it like a heating pad for your cramps. you let out a soft moan of pleasure and he answered it with a low growl, pulling you into him by the stomach. his thumb caressed your bare skin with small circles, memorizing every dip and valley. he strived to commit the moment to memory, not knowing if you’d ever be this vulnerable again. “feel better, dove?” you nodded, finally succumbing to sleep that had evaded you the past night. he smiled under his mask, placing a small kiss to the back of your head.
finally you were at peace, and all because of him.
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hoolay-boobs · 9 months
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This ship dynamic remains superior
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mistbix · 10 months
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silly best friends
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me-writes-prompts · 6 months
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:-"It was you. It was always you." Friends to lovers prompts-:
By @me-writes-prompts
When they wrap their hand around your waist protectively because it's just an instinct by now>>>
Blushing when they compliment you and then your friends tease you about it and you're just shflskhsljfljs
The lingering touches that have you wanting for more, but they're just so freaking oblivious
*While introducing them* "This is my...friend." "Friend?" *gulps and looks at them* "Yeah, friend."
Those nights when you both party hard and now you have to take them back to their house and they say, no insist, that you stay.
“I know you better than anyone else.” “Do you, though?” “…Of course, I do.” BUT THEY DONT KNOW YOURE IN LOVE WITH THEM
The causal flirting turning into something else because you start to have feelings for them
When they whisper in your ears things that they only want you to hear
^^"We should definitely get out of here. Don't you think so?" and you just(AHHHHH) "Y-yeah, sure. Uh huh." And they chuckle at your shyness because they know just what kind of effect they have on you.
"We could be more, you know?" "Hmmm? What do you want us to be other than friends?" "You know exactly what I want." "I need you to say it. I want to hear it." (SCREAMINGGGGG)
The inside jokes that only both of them know of and they start to randomly laugh with each other while others stare at them, like, are they crazy or what????(Crazy in love, I tell you)
When they cage you between their arms and lean and say "I know exactly what you're thinking." and you start to blush because wtf?!!!!!
Movie nights where you see a couple kissing and you just wonder when that will happen to you. But little do you know, they are already leaning in and you turn your head and they are so closeeeee.
^^"Can I-May I...kiss you?" Your breath catches in your threat and you force yourself to say something, and finally make out a small 'yes' before your lips are attached and you forget how to breathe(<33333333)
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saraswritingtipps · 7 months
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Writing a romance scene between friends-turned-lovers
1. Build Tension and Chemistry:
Start by creating a strong foundation of emotional connection and chemistry between the characters. Show the reader why these friends are perfect for each other.
2. Use Inner Monologue:
Reveal the characters' inner thoughts and feelings. Allow readers to see their internal struggle and realization that their friendship has transformed into something more.
3. Subtle Gestures and Glances:
Describe subtle physical cues such as lingering touches, longing glances, or an accidental brush of hands. These small actions can speak volumes about the characters' growing attraction.
4. Dialogue:
Develop natural and engaging dialogue that reflects the characters' personalities. Use humor, vulnerability, and sincerity in their conversations to convey the depth of their emotions.
5. Setting and Mood:
Choose an appropriate setting that complements the romantic mood. Consider factors like lighting, ambiance, and the time of day to enhance the atmosphere.
6. Build Anticipation:
Slowly escalate the tension and anticipation as the characters become aware of their changing feelings. Tease the readers by delaying the moment of confession or physical intimacy.
7. Show Vulnerability:
Let your characters open up to each other, sharing their fears and insecurities. Vulnerability can be a powerful tool in a romance scene, making the characters relatable and endearing.
8. Physical Descriptions:
Provide sensory details when describing the characters' physical appearances. Highlight what makes each character attractive in the eyes of the other.
9. Create Realistic Obstacles:
Introduce obstacles or doubts that challenge the characters' path from friendship to romance. Overcoming these obstacles can make the relationship feel more genuine.
10. Build to the Climax:
Slowly build the scene to its climax, whether it's a passionate kiss, a confession of love, or another significant moment. Make it emotionally charged and meaningful.
11. Emotional Impact:
Ensure that the scene evokes a strong emotional response from the readers. Let them feel the characters' joy, relief, and excitement as the friendship evolves into romance.
12. Aftermath:
Show the aftermath of the romantic scene. How do the characters feel afterward? What changes in their relationship? What are their hopes and fears for the future?
13. Consistency:
Maintain consistency with the characters' personalities and the development of their relationship. Ensure that their actions and words align with their established traits and the progression of their bond.
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freedomfireflies · 18 days
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Remember Me*
Summary: The one where you and your best friend, Harry, reminisce over the first time he ever ate you out.
Word Count: 3.1k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, brief daddy kink, mention of knife kink + blood kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, pre-consented somnophilia, not suitable for Ramadan!
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“There you go, good girl. Just like that. Cum for me, Bee. Right now.”
You squirm, fingers curling into the silky sheets below as you suck in a quiet breath.
You can feel his lips on your neck. Your chest. Your inner thighs. Soft, gentle, devious. He’s everywhere. Purring in your ear, holding your hips in his hands. Keeping you just where he wants you like you’re nothing but a toy for him to play with.
You’ve never been so close. So satisfied, so pleasured. So ready to let go.
And then…you wake up.
Your lashes flutter as you slowly come to. The bedroom is dark. Still. You can hear the fan in the corner of the room and Harry’s soft inhales from somewhere beside you. Your heart is thumping hard and heavy against your ribcage while your dream slowly dissipates into reality. Disappearing into the back of your mind as you remind yourself where you really are.
And then you realize that Harry’s not beside you but below you. His breathing louder and heavier than it was before.
You look down.
And there he is, large body settled between your spread thighs as he holds you open and stares lovingly at the mess you’ve made.
And suddenly, your dream doesn’t feel so distant as you blink the sleep from your eyes and whisper, “Har?”
He glances up, pretty green eyes somehow bright even in the dark. He smiles and his lips glisten. “Hi, baby. Were you having a nice dream?”
You take in a sharp inhale and nod once. “Ye—yeah.”
“Good.” He dips down to kiss your hip. “Hope I didn’t ruin it for you.”
“No…no, I just…I…I thought I was…”
“I know,” he murmurs and kisses the other side. “I know, Bee. And you need me to fix it, don’t you?”
You blink.
“Kept whimpering for me,” he says. His palms dance down the side of your body. Squeezing lightly as though to reassure you. “Begging me to make you cum…to touch you…taste you. Said you needed my tongue.”
Your chest feels heavy as you watch him ghost his mouth up your stomach.
“And I wanted to help,” he tells you. “Wanted to make it better for you.”
He stops, but only to look up and find you again.
“Is that all right, sweet girl?” he whispers.
You nod quickly. After all, the two of you made an agreement months ago that waking each other up with sex was more than all right. You don’t do it too terribly often, but the times when you do…
You almost start to pant.
“Good,” he says, grinning once more as he runs his thumb along your aching cunt. “But I want you to do something for me, yeah?”
“Yeah…”
He moves his mouth to your inner thigh. “Want you…” He travels up your skin toward your pussy. “To tell me…” He brushes his lips over your clit. “What you were dreaming about.”
You feel yourself start to squirm, the warmth of his breath over your cunt enough to send shivers along your spine. “I…I was dreaming about you.”
“Yeah? Better have been,” he teases with a smirk. “What was I doing, hm?”
You watch him poke out his tongue and tease it near your hole. “You…you were doing this.”
He hums. “Was I?”
You nod. “Just…just like you did the first time.”
His eyes flick back to yours. “The first time, hm? When I asked to taste your pretty pussy?”
Another nod.
“Mm.” He shifts a bit on the bed and pushes your legs further apart. “Do you think about that first time a lot, Bee?”
You feel your heart skip. “Yes…”
“Think about how nice you were to let me practice on you?”
“…yes.”
“Cause you were,” he says softly between kisses to your cunt. Not enough to satisfy you, but more than enough to taunt you. “So nice and so sweet for me. Knew I’d never wanna taste anybody else but you for the rest of my life.”
You smile. “No, you didn’t.”
“I did,” he argues. He sucks your clit into his mouth. “Come on, lovie, you had to know I didn’t really want her. Only ever wanted you.”
Your fingers lace through his hair, and he hums. “You knew even back then?”
“Of course.” He rests his cheek on your thigh, gazing at your pussy almost as though in a trance. “Should have known I’d get addicted. I already was, even if I didn’t realize it yet.”
“Is that so?”
“Mhm.” He starts to pull you open, just to watch the way you clench around nothing. “I’d been addicted to you for years. Just didn’t know why.”
“And eating me out helped with that?”
He chuckles. “Kind of. I really did think I was doing it for Tina, but…the second I saw you, all spread out and dripping…I couldn’t have picked her out of a fucking lineup.”
You squeeze his scalp. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I mean it.” He studies your expression closely. “Bee, I’m so goddamn in love with you it makes my chest hurt. I was in love with you then and I’m in love with you now. Why do you think I kept canceling on her? Why do you think I kept begging you to teach me more things?”
“I don’t know.” You shrug. “Cause you were horny?”
“No,” he exhales and then kisses your pussy again, groaning into you as though he’s a man starved. “No, I was fucking obsessed. And I still am.”
You whimper.
“So, I want you to tell me everything I did in your dream,” he says, his touch growing a bit greedier now as he slips his middle finger inside. “Every little thing you wanted me to do.”
You arch from the bed and try to stay still. You’re not sure how long he’s been teasing you, but it feels far longer than your dream. And you’re already shaking with anticipation as you clutch his curls and say, “You…you were touching me.”
He grins. “How, lovie?”
You reach for his hand and pull it up toward your chest. “Like this,” you pant, and he groans so lewdly, you nearly cum right then.
He squeezes your tit in his palm, kneading it between those long, nimble fingers before he pinches your nipple tight. Eliciting another noise from your throat. And you’ve never been so glad you went to bed without pajamas.
“Like this?” he asks.
You nod before you’re leading him up toward your throat. “And like this…”
You make him squeeze the sides of your neck until your eyes have nearly rolled back. He holds you gently, but with just enough pressure to make your head pound in the absolute best way.
“Yeah?” He crawls a bit higher up your body in order to get a better grip. “I remember the first time you made me choke you. Such an insatiable little thing, weren’t you?”
“Still am,” you quip, sticking out your tongue.
His smile is sadistic as he spits directly onto your tongue and squeezes your jaw shut. “Swallow.”
You do. And the taste of him—of you—is magic. Enough to have you grinding yourself against his bent leg that’s snuggled between your thighs. And he notices, but he does nothing to help you.
“What else?” he asks between desperate kisses. “Huh? What else did my dirty girl want?”
“Your cock,” you whisper. “Wanted your cock so bad, Har. Wanted you to fuck me like you did that first time. Wanted to ride you…see your handsome face when you came.”
“Yeah? Wanted to cut me up all pretty like you did with that knife?”
You pout. “I didn’t cut you up. I just wanted to see it on your cheek.”
He laughs against your shoulder, and you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach. “Still can’t believe you have a knife kink. And a blood kink.”
“I still can’t believe you do, too.”
“Can’t help it. You just look so pretty in red,” he says easily. “Always have. Skin all sensitive and swollen…lips just begging to be bit…blood that looks so beautiful smeared across your chest—”
You grab onto his cheeks and bring his mouth back to yours. Kissing him so hard, he can’t speak. The image in your head is lewd and delicious and you feel his cock twitch against your hip as his body melts into yours.
“Bee,” he warns after a moment. “Bee, this isn’t about me. This is about you, come on—”
“I will. After you cum first,” you insist, reaching down between you to squeeze his tip. “My dream wasn’t just about me.”
His exhale is shaky as he closes his eyes. “Thought we were recreating the first time I ate you out?”
“Why can’t we do both?” you ask, nipping at his earlobe. “You really think I wasn’t imagining what your cock felt like as I watched you? Even back then?”
You feel his wicked grin against your cheek. “Were you?”
“How could I not? You weren’t the only one with a crush.”
He leans back. “You did not have a crush on me.”
“Yes, I did. How do you know?”
“Because you were still hung up on Eric,” he retorts as he moves down your body, returning to his previous position while you watch him go with a frown. “And I was just a convenient distraction.”
“No,” you snort, grasping onto his chin to recapture his attention. He looks at you. “Harry, you were not a distraction. Eric was the distraction. I made myself get over you by getting under him.”
He pulls his lip between his teeth, but it can’t hide his smirk. “Really?”
“Duh. You asking me to teach you was the best thing that ever happened to me. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You gaze at him gently and cup his jaw. “Please don’t forget that.”
The tension between you is palpable but loving, and you giggle when he sucks your thumb into his mouth with a wink.
“Then can you let me recreate the best thing that’s ever happened to you?” he mumbles around your finger. “Because it was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I still haven’t gotten a proper taste.”
You swipe your wet digit over his lips and grin. “Then you better get to it.”
So, he does. After all, Harry is nothing if not obedient and you can’t help but feel a touch proud as he kisses his way down your body until those greedy kisses find your cunt.
He knows exactly what you like. Knows how to hold you, tease you, taste you. He flicks you with the tip of his tongue and pulls you open with his fingers. He groans every time you gasp and swallows like he’s never had a drink in his life.
And then…he blows on you. Lets his warm exhale dance across your drenched pussy until you nearly squirm away altogether. You feel as though you’re being edged. Like he’s denying you the only thing you need and you whine helplessly as you plead with him.
He merely shushes you. “You know better, Bee. Come on.”
You shake your head violently. “I can’t…can’t, Har, please—”
He spanks you. A sharp smack of his palm down your clit. “You fucking rush me and I won’t let you cum at all. Is that what you want, sweet girl?”
“…no, Daddy.”
“No, I didn’t think so. So what are you gonna do?”
“…whatever you tell me.”
He hums, wildly pleased. “Good fucking girl.”
It’s masterful the way he sucks and nips and thrusts. A combination of his fingers and his tongue that bring you closer with every curl. Because after all this time, he knows your body. He’s had a year to learn you and love you. The way you taste, the way you sound, the way you feel. He knows exactly how to treat you and my god does he treat you right.
“H,” you gasp as you reach for his hair. Clutching onto those soft curls for dear life as your legs squeeze the side of his head. “Shit, Har…I’m…”
“You looked just like this when I first tasted you,” he mumbles against your cunt. “You had this cute little fucked-out expression on your face…kept biting your lip and wrinkling your nose. Like you were scared to enjoy it.”
“Wasn’t…wasn’t scared,” you huff, but you know he’s right. “I was just trying to help you learn.”
“Mhm.” He swipes his tongue up the length of you, from hole to hole. “Loved getting to see you so vulnerable for me. And you were so eager to let me. Practically yanked me into you.”
“I did not. Not until we got that collar and leash, anyway.”
His lips pull back with a Cheshire-like grin. Another fond memory. “Speaking of, we should dig that out again. Don’t think we’ve gotten enough use out of it.”
“I agree.”
“Good.” He slaps your clit once more before spitting on it and spreading it around. “Maybe I should make you watch your dirty little videos, too.”
Your chest begins to heave. “Maybe…you should.”
“Maybe I will.” And just like that, he slips three fingers into your quivering cunt.
But the moment he reaches his knuckles and flicks his tongue, it’s over. You gasp, whine, shake. Tremble in his hands and against his tongue before you’re collapsing onto the mattress with the sounds of his grunted praise in your ear.
“Fucking shit, Bee,” you vaguely hear as he pushes your folded legs closer to your chest. “God, I fucking love it when you do that.”
And somehow, through the orgasmic haze, you realize you’ve squirted. Something else you don’t tend to do that often. But when you do…
“Shit,” he says again before burying himself back in the mess. Almost as though he means to breathe it into his lungs. He kisses it, licks it, indulges in it. Takes every last drop for himself, despite the way you whimper. “M’sorry, lovie. Just can’t help it. S’my favorite.”
And you can feel a second one already barreling toward you. You're far more sensitive now and it almost hurts to have him continue. But you know he wants a second one. Know he needs a second orgasm out of you and you're powerless to deny him.
He brushes his touch through your folds and pulls you apart just to look at you. Watching your body spasm with pleasure as your hole flutters around the emptiness where his fingers used to be.
"Harry," you plead, a pitiful mewl.
He dives in. Licking and licking and licking like you're a popsicle on a hot day. He teases your opening with his tongue before smoothing it back up. Again and again, he tastes you. Until your cheeks are stained with tears and your body unravels once more.
When you cum, time stops. You bite on your lip so hard, you draw blood. The metallic taste filling your mouth as you push him back and wiggle away from his ministrations. Nearly sobbing from the painfully beautiful overstimulation.
He laughs lightly but does allow you to rest. Pulling himself up until he can place his head on your chest and settle in your arms. “Shh. You're all right, sweet girl. I've got you. It's okay."
You only whimper.
He peppers kisses across your face until your hiccups subside. His touch is much gentler now and he spends the next few minutes speaking softly and bringing you back down to earth. Doing everything he can to remind you that he's got you. Always.
"I'm proud of you," he finally says. "So fucking proud of you, Bee. Do you know that?"
You sniffle. "Really?"
“Mhm. And not just for squirting. For everything. All the time. The way you carry yourself. The way you love your friends. The way you love me.” He nuzzles his nose into your neck. “I’m so lucky to be loved by you.”
You swallow around the lump in your throat. “Well, I’m so lucky to love you.”
A tender beat passes. Then, he whispers, “Do you think you’d ever wanna get married?”
Just like that, your heart stops. You hope he can’t hear it. “Um…I don’t know. Would you?”
“Probably. Only to you, though.”
“Oh…that’s good.”
He glances up. “I’m not proposing. I mean, not right now. Not like this, I just...I don’t know. I thought I’d see if you…even wanted to marry someone like me.”
“Someone like you?”
He shrugs and looks back down. “Yeah. I don’t know. I’m not sure I’d be very good husband material.”
Your expression drops. “Harry,” you whisper, dipping down to press your lips to his temple. “You’d be the best husband in the world. No matter the material you’re made of.”
He chuckles again. “Think if we did get married, my parents would have a heart attack.”
“What? Why?”
“They fucking love you. They’ve been trying to get me to ask you out since we were kids.”
“Shut up, no they have not.”
“M’serious. When I told them we started dating, I swear to God my mom sent me like twenty links to engagement rings ‘just in case.’”
You laugh now, too. “She’s so cute. I’m gonna have the greatest in-laws.”
And for some reason, this makes him smile bigger than he has all evening.
The two of you stay like this for what feels like hours. Snug in each other’s embrace, his heart against yours. And you realize that this is where you were always meant to be. Right here, in this bed with him. From the moment the two of you met all those years ago, he was your Harry. And everything after has merely led you to this moment with him.
You often think about that fateful afternoon when he waltzed into your apartment and asked if he could eat you out. You wonder what would have happened if you’d said no. Could you have been okay with seeing him and Tina? Would you have patched things up with Eric, just to distract yourself?
But then you realize, you don’t want to imagine a world where you rejected him. It was a strange twist of destiny that you brought you and Harry together that day. In a position you never thought you'd be in. But if he hadn't, you'd have never known a happiness like this. A peace like this.
You’d never know him. The real him.
You don’t care if he proposes or not. You don’t care what your future looks like. As long as it’s with him, you’ll feel fulfilled. Happy and content in a way you never thought possible.
And the best part is…you know he feels the same.
By the time you start to feel tired again, it’s nearly morning. Soft streams of sunlight are already dancing through your bedroom window, illuminating the beautiful curve of his back. Glistening through his disheveled curls like a heavenly halo.
It nearly takes your breath away.
You count his freckles and moles like stars in the sky. Run your fingers along his shoulders and spine until he snuggles even closer. You've never felt so lucky to behold someone so beautiful.
However, just before your eyes can flutter shut and allow you to finally find a bit more sleep, your phone buzzes.
Confused, you both turn toward the nightstand where the vibration is coming from before you reach for the device plugged into the wall.
“Who is it?” Harry asks sleepily as he nuzzles his way back into your neck.
You read over the message.
And your stomach drops.
“It’s…”
“What?”
“Um…”
"What?"
You say nothing. Can't. You reread the text three more times in an effort to stall and create some sort of explanation.
But your silence piques his curiosity, and he eventually glances up. "Bee? What's wrong?"
Your pulse starts to race. Your palms start to sweat. And even though you know you have nothing to be afraid of, you take in a stuttered breath.  
“It’s…Eric,” you say slowly.
And just like that…the tender moment is over. 
Harry sits up, expression hard and unforgiving as he waits for the rest.
And you’re almost afraid to give it to him.
“…he wants to meet.”
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I cannot believe it's been one year since the story that changed my life 🥹 And I can't thank you guys enough for what you've done for me!!! It was such a silly little story that I was sure wouldn't do very well, but introduced me to so many amazing people and gave me such a new found love for writing!!!
Thank you for being here and supporting me and Harry and Bee for a whole year now!!! I'm actually going to sob 🥹💞💞 ILY GUYS SO SO MUCH!!!
~ Full Teach Me Masterlist
Amazing credit for the beautiful dividers to @firefly-graphics 💞
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sanegreen · 2 years
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it's just me and my very specific romantic scenarios against the whole world
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indecisivemuch · 2 months
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Cupids in Converses
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Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader
Summary: Valentine's was rolling up. You and Luke played Cupid on Percy and Annabeth. But what if playing matchmakers gave both you guys and your unspoken feelings the nudge that you guys have always needed? (Fluff, friends to lovers, happy ending)
Warning: sort of cliché, but it's Valentines so.
Note: Valentines got me in the mood of writing something rom-com-ish. Let's just assume Luke wears red converses that looks like Maia in the show. Also, I've been incredibly busy so I kinda rushed through this one to post it on time for Valentines.
Word count: 4.1k (whoops)
February has always filled the air with some sort of sugary chemical. Everything seemed sweeter like a pink filter had been put over the world. Some may dislike the upcoming February holiday, but it was perhaps one of your favorite times of the year. 
Why? You were somehow blessed with the skills of getting people together and nudging them just enough to cross the line they needed to. So far, you have managed to help six couples get together. With Valentine’s right around the corner, the urge to play cupid grew to the point it was itching your hands.
“Well, compared to the Chimera on Monday, Medusa on Sunday, could have been a lot worse,” Percy was quickly interrupted by Annabeth. 
“Medusa was Saturday.”
“I thought Sunday?”
“No monsters on Sunday. Monday, you died in a river.” You squint your eyes at the conversation that Percy and Annabeth were having. The familiar bells rang in your head; you could practically hear them roaring at you.
“Right, so Medusa on Saturday…” 
“Woah, guys, what’s this?” Luke interrupted. “When did you turn into an old married couple?” Percy and Annabeth both grew slightly flustered at the Hermes counselor’s words. Muttering a few things here and there, the two kids quickly excused themselves and walked off from you and Luke just to avoid the topic in general. You slowly turned towards Luke and peered up at him.
“Surely…” you spoke cryptically.
“Surely what?”
“Them!” you gestured to the direction that Percy and Annabeth had headed off to. You kicked a small rock with your Converse and watched it tumble away. “Surely we can give a little nudge?” you trailed off, bumping into Luke’s shoulder.
“You’re not seriously gonna play Cupid on them, right?”
“No, I’m not…because we are,” Luke let out a loud breath, hands on his hips as he peered down at you. However, you could see a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. 
“Sweet girl, I adore you, but why not let things run their course?” you hope he did not see the physical reaction over that nickname because, internally, your heart skipped a beat.
“Oh? And you’re telling me those six couples from before would have gotten together without me? You know I’m right about this kind of stuff. I can usually sense it. Besides, it’ll be fun, I promise.”
“What’s in it for me?”
“Uhm…you get to spend time with me?” you decided to answer, grinning up at Luke when he gave you a feigned unimpressed look. “Please, besides, you and Percy are close, so it would help a lot. I already have a plan and I need your help for it.”
One look into your eyes, and Luke knew he was doomed. For some reason, you just can make him do anything you ask. Luke could feel the hands on his hips slowly slipping as he looked into your eyes.
“Fine.”
Stage 1: Get Percy to realize his feelings cause he’s blind as hell
It was midnight and everybody else was asleep except for you and Luke. The two of you were in the kitchen, trying to be as quiet as possible.
The two of you were making some fortune cookies for your plan. However, there was a tiny twist to the treat you two were making. You had personally printed out a couple of prompts that you wrote yourself in hopes they would nudge Percy into realizing his feelings. 
“Really?’“Romance is in the air. What you’re looking for is right in front of you’?” Luke read out the small piece of paper that you printed. You pulled the cookies out of the oven when they were ready.
“It’s cliche and sort of obvious, but hey! It’ll work because it’s Percy I’m working with,” you quickly pulled the paper out of his hand to put it in the fortune cookie before folding it into shape and letting it cool down.
“Mhm. He’s gonna realize you’re trying to play cupid.”
“Are we talking about the same person? I doubt Percy would realize. Annabeth would, hence why I’m not trying this on her.”
Luke helped you out with a couple of other spare fortune cookies that you two intended to keep for yourselves.
“Alright, finally done,” you muttered, washing your hands. However, you were caught off guard when Luke dipped his hand in the bag of flour on the counter and smeared some on your cheek. Your mouth hung slightly at this, and you looked up at him challengingly. You wiped your hands with a hand towel, “Oh? Is that how we’re playing it?”
“...No…” Luke sheepishly replied, a grin growing on his face when he saw the look of mischief creeping on your face.
“Game on, Castellan,” with that, you dipped both of your hands in flour and chased after the tall boy, who was sprinting around the counter. You caught up with Luke and compromised by smearing flour onto the back of his shirt first. At your attack, he turned around and smeared some more across your face from your other cheek to the top of your nose. You immediately did it back to him.
“Ok, ok, I surrender,” he coughed in between quiet waves of laughter after you smeared some from his cheek down his neck, marking your last attack.
For a moment, Luke and you stood in silence, but when you two let the state of one another sink in, laughs echoed throughout the room again. Luke was able to stop his laughter first, though he was still wearing a wide grin. He washed the flour off his face and dried it with kitchen tissues as you muttered: “Oh, I wish I had a camera. I could practically blackmail you with that photo.”
“I have no doubt you would have never let me live that down,” while replying, Luke also approached you and started wiping the flour off your nose before moving to your cheeks. Your laughter slowly faded as your cheeks heated at the feeling of his hand on your skin. He was looking at you so tentatively. Callous hands - a reflection of his remarkable title as best swordsman - delicately holding your face as if you were the rarest diamond to exist.
Something about this moment felt so domestic. Luke allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy that this is how it would feel like to be with you and share cute moments like these together. Luke unbeknownstly let out a breath he didn’t know he was keeping in as he made eye contact with you. 
However, the moment was interrupted by another camper who yelped upon seeing you two in the kitchen. The presence of another person caused you two to spring apart. “I’m so sorry, I’ll leave,” the camper muttered, clearly abandoning their plan of stealing food and sweets in the middle of the night. Luke coughed to break the silence.
“So what’s the plan after giving it to Percy?” Luke asked, looking down at the fortune cookies before picking one up and munching on it.
“Hopefully, he’ll finally realize his feelings, and when he does…Percy will come to you, for sure.”
Stage 2: Romantic gesture
You were right, Percy came to Luke for dating advice. As you planned, Luke suggested that Percy make a flower crown for Annabeth. Hence, here the Hermes counselor was - with Percy as he picked out flowers for Annabeth.
"I'm gonna need you to guide me on this 'cause I've never made flower crowns before," Percy muttered as he picked out California Poppins, Annabeth's favorite. Luke grinned at this. He found it interesting how the young boy already knew. "Maybe you could make one for someone special too?" Percy said, his voice somewhat unsure. 
At the young boy's words, Luke froze. The first person that seemed to pop into his mind when Percy said that was you.
"I mean, might as well, right? It's for Valentine's. Maybe you could give it to someone who means a lot to you and makes you happy?" Percy spoke, though there was something instigative about his tone.
Happy. The word bounced in between the walls of Luke's mind. Once again, the first thing that flashed in his head was you. Then, a surge of images came running from memories of you two. He almost could not remember happiness before you. A warm feeling embedded in his chest as he pictured your smile. Just seeing you happy seemed to do it for him, like you could spread happiness to him by just looking at him. You were like the first glimmer of daylight after a cold night. He subconsciously smiled at that thought.
You have always made him feel loved, even though he knew you were probably doing it platonically. However, he would gladly take any form of love that he could receive from you. Every day, waking up and knowing he had you in his life was good enough for him. Maybe he should try giving you more hints. Maybe you'll finally see it. Perhaps Percy was right with the flower crown idea. 
“Uhm, sure,” with that, Luke decided to take some of your favorite flowers into his hand and went to a nearby table, where he started guiding Percy on how to make a flower crown. However, ever so often, his mind would trail to its own thoughts whenever he focused on making this flower crown for you.
Percy watched Luke as the older boy started intensely working on his own flower crown, crafting it with so much care as if it was an artwork intended for a national museum. If Percy didn’t know better, he would think Luke was a perfectionist.
Meanwhile, you were sitting with Annabeth near the ocean where she had previously pushed Percy into the waters, leading to Poseidon claiming him. You asked, “Any plans for Valentine’s Day?” 
“No, you?”
“Nope.”
“Oh?” she replied, though you tilted your head at the tone of her voice. “I’m just surprised,” Annabeth explained as she looked out at the ocean instead of at you. “I mean…I thought you and Luke…”
“Huh?—”
“Well, I mean, you two are together all the time, and there seems to be something going on —”
“What do you mea—”
“It always seems like you two would gravitate to one another. I just assumed you two were together already—”
“We’re…just friends,” you settled on saying, though you could hear your heart beating loudly, seemingly echoing near your chest and neck. Of course, you knew you had feelings for Luke. However, you have always ruled it as a silly little crush.
“...You sure? You sound really unsure,” Annabeth challenged, making you sigh. 
“I mean, he’s really sweet, and nice…”
“Uh-huh”
“And he makes me laugh all the time…”
“That’s good,” Annabeth’s words echoed as you sunk into silence and started reflecting on who Luke was to you. He has always made you feel cared for. Out of everybody at camp, perhaps he was the one you were most comfortable with, never having to be afraid of being yourself. Almost all of your favorite memories at camp included him in them. 
You remember the night you told him about your minor fear of the darkness and how he promised to always protect you in it. In a way, since then, he has become your light. You always felt lit up when he made his way to you. Your eyes are always drawn to him like a moth to its flame. Then, it finally dawned on you how serious your feelings were. You realized how most of the time you seemed to be mindless about the existence of your heart until Luke was around because it was only then that your heart would tug or race to run you breathless. You gulped as your eyes darted around slightly. 
“I mean…maybe…” you started but snapped out of your thoughts when you heard Luke’s voice. And there it was again, the silly familiar tug your heart was doing just from his voice. “Hey…” you greeted Luke and Percy before noticing Percy with a flower crown in his hand. 
“Annabeth, can I speak to you privately?” Annabeth stood up and gestured for Percy to lead the way, presumably somewhere, so the young boy could give her the flower crown and ask her out on Valentine’s Day. You remained seated, still pondering at your feelings and wondering when they had exponentially grown that much. 
“I actually have something for you as well,” you finally looked up at Luke when he said this. You noticed he had his hands behind his back. Something about the way he looked now seemed so shy and timid, which was unlike the outgoing and confident boy you always knew.
Your mouth fell agape when he pulled out a flower crown made of your favorite flower. “Luke…” you said his name and stood up when you saw the item.
However, because your eyes were on his gift, you didn’t notice the way Luke’s breath hitched at the sound of your voice calling out his name. He never thought it was anything special until November two years ago when you said his name while laughing at one of his jokes by the campfire. It was probably a moment you did not remember, but ever since then, he felt so sure that he was named so because the name sounded like it was born just for the sole purpose of being sounded from your lips. 
“I made this for you,” he muttered, though it sounded almost like a whisper. His eyes shifted to both of your Converses instead of at you. Something about this made him so nervous as if he was handing you his heart instead of a simple gift. He almost scowled at himself for acting like a boy in kindergarten, confessing to his crush.
If only Luke was looking at you because you were looking at him and the item in awe. Your cheeks flushed from his gesture. Though, you were somewhat glad he was not looking at you because you were sure one look at you right now would tell Luke exactly everything about your feelings. You were a blushing mess. “Luke, thank you so much. This is beautiful. I can’t believe you made one for me.”
You touched Luke’s hand that was holding the crown, and he almost grew an even deeper shade of red. “Put it on my head,” you instructed, and he obliged just like everything else you would ask. He was sure he must have caught a sickness or something for wanting to follow you this blindly. But you were perhaps the only one with the power to get him to do absolutely anything. Just as the crown touched your hair, you peered up at him, and the sight alone made Luke swallow nervously. 
You looked breathtaking.
And he meant this literally because Luke felt like he stopped breathing for a second. He could not look away. That was until you wrapped your arms around his waist and hugged him. His arms wrapped around your neck almost immediately to return the hug as if they existed to only hold you. 
However, unlike the hundreds of hugs before, this one felt different. It was as if something had shifted and was bound to unfold.
Final Stage: Valentine’s Day
Annabeth had said yes.
You were ecstatic to learn that the young girl had agreed to go on a Valentine’s date with Percy. Even though you didn’t want to intrude, you and Luke decided to just have a peep to see what Percy had planned. You were not planning to stay long. It was just a sort of reward or a way to see your plan grow into fruition. You smiled when you spot the cute picnic date near the shore.
“See, I told you the plan was going to work,” you muttered as you tiptoed up in your converses to peer at the kids through the tall bushes nearby. You almost lost balance and step onto Luke's shoes that were similar to yours, except his was red.
The boy quickly steadied you with his hand on your waist. You muttered a quick thank you before turning back to the kids, trying to ignore the blush that was slowly decorating your cheeks. But you were quickly caught off guard at the sight of Percy and Annabeth pushing a small boat off the shore and hopping on it.
“Uhm…that is not what I expected. Where are they going?” Luke looked over your shoulder when you said that. Your eyes fluttered at his warm breath hitting your neck. 
However, you noticed the two kids looking like they were in trouble and panicking as they quickly started rowing away. You turned your head towards Luke, forgetting he was very close to you. Your voice faltered as you were about to utter your next sentence. Noticing this, Luke turned to you, only causing the two of you to come face to face with little distance in between. You gulped and forced yourself not to glance down at his lips, “Do you think they’re okay? Should we follow them? I mean…what if they’re in trouble?”
Seeing the worried look on your face, Luke frowned. He deeply disliked anything that caused that kind of expression on your face. Hence, he decided to go over to the second boat there and started pushing it towards the water. “Come on,” you hopped onto the small boat with him and started rowing after Percy and Annabeth, hoping to help them from whatever trouble they were seeming to have.
After a few minutes of rowing behind them, you saw Percy and Annabeth rowing into a small tunnel. Luke and you quickly followed in, rowing your boat, only to be engulfed by darkness upon entering the tunnel.
The wind blew much harder in there, causing goosebumps on your arm as your hand gripped your oar tightly. To make matters worse, it was your most hated type of darkness - utter pitch black. Even with your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you could see nothing, not even Luke. 
You were fine with darkness in familiar places like your cabin, where you knew at least there were other campers around and you were safe. You were also mostly fine with darkness where you could see as your eyes adjusted to it. But here, you were in a tunnel you’ve never been in, where there were possibly monsters that could attack you at any moment. 
You were slightly startled by the hand that softly touched yours that, unbeknownst to you, was crushing the wooden oar. You immediately recognize it was Luke’s hand from the warmth and familiar touch. He soothingly ran his thumb across your hand. His actions were proven effective at calming you down when you could feel your grip loosen around the tool.
“Breathe, sweet girl,” his words somehow made you release the breath you were subconsciously holding.
A few seconds later, the lights were turned on. You were met with one of the most beautiful sights you’ve ever seen. Lights were decorating the path throughout the tunnel. There were also plants and trees with extended branches and leaves that softly brushed past the boat Luke and you were on. 
Suddenly, you both heard a tune start playing quietly in the background, almost quiet enough to make you two think you were imagining it:
“There you see her, sitting there across the way.
She don’t got a lot to say, but there’s something about her”
His thumb hasn’t stopped rubbing over your knuckles even though the darkness was no longer casting over the both of you. His eyes were absorbing how you looked at that moment, embracing it. You were absolutely stunning and he was hopelessly infatuated with you. 
“And you don’t know why, but you’re dying to try
You wanna kiss the girl.”
The lyrics made Luke subconsciously lick his lips as he pictured himself kissing you. Gods, he wondered if his heart would even survive doing so and whether anything would ever surpass getting to kiss you. Your eyes flickered to Luke's lips, and he noticed it. He also noticed how your cheeks flushed as you gulped at his actions.
“Luke.”
“Y/N,” you almost melted at the way Luke was saying your name as if it was an honor or privilege to do so. The tone he used was sweeter than any dessert you have ever had. Gods, it was as if your name was a sacred passage he lived by.
“Yes, you want her
Look at her, you know you do”
Indeed he was looking at you, and it felt almost like he was spellbound because he could not take his eyes off you. Right then, you could see it all - he was utterly smitten. He was giving you a soft smile. The lights decorating the tunnel shimmered in his eyes, illuminating just enough to display his pupils and how they almost completely overtook the usual dark brown color that you love. Before you knew it, he was leaning closer to you on the small boat and you mirrored his action.
“Possible she wants you too, there is one way to ask her…”
Just when Luke was inches from your face, he stopped. His eyes longingly stare at your lips like a long-awaited dream that was within his grasp but not quite within his grip yet. You noticed how he took a deep breath as if mustering all the drops of courage he had. His eyes fluttered shut for a second before he opened them again. 
“Can I?” he uttered only two words, but somehow, his voice conveyed enough the yearning coursing through every inch of his body. Luke gulped as he restrained himself from closing the distance and waited for your consent. 
You nodded wordlessly.
“It don’t take a word, not a single word
Go on and kiss the girl.”
Almost instantly, he caressed both sides of your face and sealed the deal.
All the glory Luke has gained throughout the years seemed trivial compared to kissing you. It almost convinced him that everything he had gone through to get here today was worth it. He hummed against your lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer. Kissing you felt like the best gift he had ever gotten in his entire life. Luke knew he was forever screwed from the way it felt. He could not fathom the idea of his lips ever touching anyone else’s. Maybe they were made for you, but his heart and mind do not seem to oppose that idea.
You slowly slid your arms down, allowing your hands to caress his jawline and the sides of his face. However, your hands slightly jolted at the pace of his heartbeat along the side of his neck. It was as if his heart was trying to break out of his body. Your own heart started replicating the same rhythm. It had you flustered that you had such an effect on him. 
Luke broke away from the kiss breathlessly. For a second, he hated the idea of needing air to live because if he could, he would not have stopped showing you how much his lips belonged to you. His forehead leaned against yours while his hands rested on your hips. He looked at you endearingly as if he could not fathom that he just got to kiss you. You smiled at the sight of him.
“I know I’m a tad bit late, but will you be my Valentine?” he sweetly asked. 
“Of course, Luke.” Luke grinned at your answer. He drew you in for another kiss as giggles escaped your lips and echoed through the tunnel that now marked an important memory for the two of you.
You truly must be Cupid because your plan not only worked for Percy and Annabeth, but somehow also indirectly gave Luke and you the nudge you both needed.
14th February marked the day when two Cupids wearing Converses got their happy ending. 
Bonus:
“I told you that would work,” Annabeth whispered to Percy as the two hopped back onto their boat with a speaker in hand, rowing away hastily to be out of sight from the older couple.
Little did you know, Annabeth had orchestrated the whole thing, including the conversation between her and Percy about their mission in front of Luke and you. Annabeth’s plan of getting Luke and you together through playing cupid together had seemingly worked just like she had planned.
Who said you were the only cupid at Camp Half-Blood?
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sloanegabe · 2 months
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Love, Rosie (2014) and One Day (2024) parallels
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f1goat · 6 months
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more than friends + lando norris x part one
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In which your best friend wants to help you so you get more sexual experience, but he discovers quickly that he never wants to share you and your new sexual experience with others.
masterlist - playlist
warnings: smut with a plot or a plot with smut? :) sexual content starting next chapter. minors dni! i never proofread so probably grammar or spelling errors
requested: yes, based on: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things (ofc pretending for it to bot mean anything), while he’s actually in love with her
Lando is holding you tightly when he helps you to get into your car. The two of you did talk about him picking you up tonight, but it’s not even near to the time you agreed on. It were your friends who texted him to come pick you up, since you’re drunk. When he arrived he was quick to find out how drunk you are. Lando lets you lose when you’re seated in his car, he puts the seatbelt around you and walks towards his own side. He’s quick to take his seat next to you and to start the car.
“Oh my god,” you slur, “did you already turn on the seat warming for me?”
Lando laughs about your enthusiasm. “Yeah I did,” he tells you.
“You’re the best friend ever,” you continue to slur drunkly. You make yourself comfortable on the car seat. Lando drives away. He can’t help himself and looks at you whenever he has the chance. He wonders why you’re this drunk. 
“Why did you drink so much?” He asks you after a bit of wondering. He can’t think about any reason himself. Normally you don’t like to drink too much. 
“They kept talking about their boyfriends,” you confess without even thinking about it. The alcohol has made your mind hazy. You don’t think things through right now. “And I felt single,” you continue to tell Lando, “and then I realized I’ll probably stay single forever.”
“Don’t say that,” Lando quickly states, “You’re a catch for every boy.”
“And if I ever find a boy who likes me,” you slur further, “he’ll probably lose all interest when he figures out that I have no sexual experience and don’t know what to do.”
Lando hits the brakes as hard as he can. Your confession made him almost ran through a red traffic light. He looks at you with a confused gaze. Of course he has been your friend forever but the two of you never talk about things like this. He knows you aren’t dating a lot and you’re certainly not sleeping around. But he did think you had lost your virginity once. Now that he thinks about it, he has no idea with who he thought that should be. 
And the most fucked up part is that it kinda turns him on to know that you’re a virgin. It makes him think about everything he could teach you and do with you if you were his. The thought of having you while no one else ever did makes him lose all his sane thoughts.
“See even you think it’s weird,” you exclaim annoyed, “just say so Lan. You’re my best friend, you can tell me that it’s weird. The girls also told me.”
“It’s not weird,” Lando is quick to say, “and if anything, I would say a lot of guys would like it.”
You let out a weird fake laugh. “Nice try Lando,” you say annoyed, “I should just find some random guy to take my virginity and teach me some things.”
“No!” Lando says quickly, “Don’t do that. Not with some random guy.”
“With who then Lan? Maybe I should text all my guy friends and ask them, that seems like a great idea,” you continue with the same annoyed tone.
“Just text me,” Lando says so soft he almost whispers it to you. 
You barely hear him. At first you thought your drunk mind made it up that he said that. But when you notice the way he looks at you, you start to believe that he actually said it.
“You would want that?” You ask him.
“Yes,” he confesses, “I can teach you a few things. If you want to.”
“Deal,” you quickly say.
“You can tell me if it’s a deal tomorrow, when you’re not drunk anymore babygirl.”
Babygirl. That’s new.
+++
The following day you wake up with a massive headache. Lando is still sleeping next to you. You wonder why you ended up in his bed instead of in the bed in the guest room where you normally sleep. Weird. You have almost no memories left from last night. When you turn around you notice that Lando is following your moves in his sleep. He presses himself against your body. Weird. You unlock your phone and read some of the messages from last night. Your friends send a couple messages last night in the group text.
Friend 1: did you get home?
Friend 2: ??? Answer y/n
Friend 1: nvm we texted Lando and he told us you got home safe with him
You let out a sigh and start to type a message.
Y/N: oops sorry girls, I’m with Lando & having a massive headache  rn :(
You open your socials and scroll for a bit while waiting until Lando wakes up. It doesn’t take long before he wakes up. You feel him moving next to you in the bed. Carefully you turn around to look if he’s really awake. You’re quickly greeted by his open eyes.
“Morning babygirl,” Lando says with a raspy morning voice. 
“Hi Lan,” you reply softly.
Since when does he call you babygirl? Your mind switches back to yesterday night and you remember him calling you that as well last night. Weird. You remember him something saying that you would have to agree as well when you’re not drunk anymore. About what was that? You try to remember, but your mind leaves you hanging. 
“How are you feeling?” Lando asks you.
“Terrible,” you sigh, “I barely remember anything and I have a massive headache.”
Lando lets out a frustrated sigh, he hoped that you’d remember the conversation from you two from last night. He wonders if he needs to start about the subject or let it be. 
“You drank a lot,” he says eventually, “Why did you even do that?” Of course he already knows the reason, but he wants to hear it again from you. He needs to know for sure that last night wasn’t a drunk lie from you. 
You think about the reasons why you drank that much. Slowly you feel your memories coming back to you. You remember feeling frustrated when you realized how single - and inexperienced - you’re in comparison with your friends. They talked about their boyfriends and their sex lives a lot, both subjects you couldn’t say anything. You remember drinking too much because you wanted to forget about your awful love life. Then you start to remember the car ride back with Lando.
“Fuck,” you mutter, “I already told you, didn’t I?”
Lando nods to confirm your thoughts. He waits for you to continue. You should remember the rest by now as well, right?
“Oh my god,” you suddenly exclaim, “did I really ask you to teach me those things? Fuck I’m sorry Lan, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Lando realizes that you don’t remember everything correctly. It went different. You were talking about different boys who could teach you those things, random guys even. He was the one who offered to do it himself. 
“It didn’t go like that babygirl,” he says slowly, “I offered.”
You start to remember the conversation in more details now. Lando is right. He did offer. You feel a blush creeping up on your cheeks. What do you need to tell him now? You think about everything that can go wrong when you’re getting involved with him like that. But you also can’t shake off the thoughts about doing those things with Lando. You have had a crush on him for a while, you can probably say that you’re in love with him. In love with your best friend like a real idiot. It wouldn’t be bad to explore everything with him, he’s the guy you trust most. But what if you can’t keep it casual like that? You already know you want more.
“I remember now,” you confess.
“And I’m still offering,” Lando continues, “I don’t even want to think about you doing those kind of things with a random guy.”
“But you do want to do those, uh those things with me?” You ask awkwardly.
“Yes,” Lando is quick to confirm, “It’s not like I’m the most experienced guy around, but I can teach you some things.”
“But what if that ruins our friendship?” You ask him afraid.
“It won’t,” Lando quickly states, “We have to set some boundaries. Like having a safe word for if you’re not comfortable with what I’m doing and about how we will keep it from ruining our friendship.”
The following conversation is a bit awkward, but it’s a good one. Lando tells you about his boundaries, he doesn’t want you to have sex with someone else in the mean time - but he does want to teach you everything he knows. Teach. It even sounds ridiculous when you think about it. But you can’t deny that you want it. Fuck, there’s nothing you want more on this moment.
“So what safe word will you chose?” Lando asks you. 
“How do you see this going?” You ask back, “Do I need to make you a list or something with everything I want? Do we need to plan this like teaching sessions?”
Lando softly laughs. He pulls your body closer towards himself. In only milliseconds he’s pressed up against you. You squirm under his touch. Lando lets out a groan. It’s insane what you’re already doing to him. Your innocence is turning him on so much. 
“If you want you can make a list,” he tells you with a smile, “and if you want we can plan your so called teaching sessions. Although, I suggest to let things happen a bit more naturally.”
“Naturally?” You ask him confused.
“Yes babygirl,” Lando replies, “Can you turn around and face me?”
You do what he asks you. You turn yourself around. Lando his face is only a couple inches away from you now. It takes you everything to stop yourself from going closer. He stares at you and you can’t stop staring back. Of course you already knew he’s beautiful, but now you’re seeing it from even closer.
“Can I touch you?” Lando asks you while he maintains eye contact with you. You can’t find the words to answer his question, even when you only want to say yes. So you show him a simple nod. 
“I need words baby,” he says, “I’ll only do things to you if I’m sure that it’s what you want.”
“Touch me,” you say with a soft voice. When Lando takes a couple more seconds you even add another word. “Please.” 
Fuck if he wasn’t turned on already this would be the moment for it. Lando can’t stop imagining you begging for him - for his touch, his cock and more. He shakes the thoughts off, maybe that’s something for later. If he’s lucky. 
He softly puts his hand on your cheek and brings your face even closer to his. Without giving it a second thought he presses his lips against yours. Softly he presses multiple kisses against your lips. You are quick to open your mouth a bit, hoping that he wants more. Just like you do at this moment. Lando grants your wish. He lets his tongue enter your mouth and starts to explore your mouth with his own. You feel your stomach tighten a bit. 
Why does it feel so good to kiss with your best friend?
Lando moves his hand to your body. He pulls you even closer towards himself. Then he starts to draw figures on your lower back with his fingers. You let your hands wander around his body as well. At first you’re focused on his hair, softly tugging on some of his curls. You love his curls. Lando moves his face back a bit, you directly miss the feeling of his lips on yours. 
“How does that feel?” He asks you. His hand is still placed on your lower back. You want it even lower. How would if feel if he would grab your ass? 
“Good,” you confess, “really good.”
Lando is hand is still on the same place. You almost feel yourself aching for more of his touch. Do you need to tell him? He is watching you in silence. It surprises you that you feel quite comfortable with him watching you like this. 
“You should take a shower,” Lando says eventually, “We’re going out for lunch with Max.”
You send him a surprised look. That was it? 
Lando laughs softly, “Patience babygirl, it’s a marathon, not a sprint.”
You almost tell Lando that you feel turned on, almost. This will be a long day. With a soft huff you get out of the bed and walk towards the bathroom. The cold air distracts you from your feelings, for a few seconds you forget about how turned on you are right now.
“Maybe you can add that to you list,” Lando jokes, “Shower sex. I have never done that either.”
Great. Now you can’t even shower anymore without thinking about Lando taking you underneath the water. This will ruin a lot of things, but strangely you aren’t that afraid for it to ruin things between Lando and you. 
“I thought I didn’t need to make a list,” you tell him.
“Maybe you should,” Lando replies, “I think I’d like a list after all. What if I forget something eh?”
You show him a small smile before disappearing in the bathroom. Lando sighs when you close the door. It took him a lot of good will to stop things instead of going further with you. It has been a while since he has been this hard. He can’t even remember the last time he was this turned on now that he thinks of it. It probably was last summer when you wore that tight bikini.
part two
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classicalchan · 5 months
Text
liar
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pairing: bangchan x f! reader
rating: sfw
tags: sharing a bed, just pure softness, cuddling, best friends to lovers, pining, confessions, tired chan
wc: i'm too lazy to count but idk it's probably 2k 😭(I'm definitely wrong)
your doorbell rings when it's close to midnight, its sound reverberating through every corner of your little apartment. your socked feet carry you from bed to the door on autopilot. you weren't sleeping, but you were nearly there.
you open up your front door and off-white light from the hallway spills shamelessly into your dark living space. Chan stands there, bag slung lazily across his shoulder, eyes droopy with sleep.
"they borrowed my place for a party i don't wanna be at," he declares. "I'm sleeping here."
he walks in without waiting for an answer, wrapping you in a quick, one-armed hug for a greeting on his way. his bag finds its place on your couch. he switches a couple of lamps on here and there and fixes a photo frame on his way to your bathroom with a towel and some clothes in hand.
you kind of like how it's so natural for him to be at your place. like he belongs here. like he could live here.
you wished he would.
you lay back in bed, shifting to a side, leaving the rest of the space for Chan. ever since you first cuddled up with him a few months ago, it became an unspoken rule between you to always sleep cuddled up when alone.
it was one of the best parts of your friendship with him. you could abandon every care in the world when he was around and just be. He was always there- gentle, warm, protective, kind. everything you wished for in a man.
everything you can't have.
it had been weeks since you had gone to bed without thinking of him. even in the face of extreme exhaustion and no contact, Chan never failed to slip into your thoughts. he needed to compensate you for all the nights you couldn't sleep just because he did something adorable during the day and you wouldn't stop thinking about it.
he needed to apologize for every time you accidentally called one of your friends by his name, just because he wouldn't leave your head.
and he needed to desperately make up for nights like these. nights when he would touch you and let you touch him, but never enough. there was always a weighted, invisible boundary you hated with all your guts. a burning line you couldn't cross.
so, over the days, you had learned to make peace with what you got, no matter how little. you had learned to make the most of his arms around you, the firmness of his torso pressed to your back, the warmth of his breathing behind your ear, his occasional sleepy rambling.
sometimes he said your name.
before you knew it, the mattress dips beside you, the familiar scent of Chan's shampoo filling up your senses. you came alive a little.
his arm slips across your middle, pulling you as close as humanly possible into the abyss that was his warmth. you could spend an eternity here without a syllable of protest falling from your lips.
“i don’t have a shirt on, is that okay?” he mumbles into your hair.
more than okay, you wanted to say but for the sake of the friendship you had spent years building, you resorted to a small hum. he usually slept barely clothed, but when with you, he always asked. he made sure never to cross any lines. he was cautious, reserved. too far.
“is everything okay?” you ask. “you usually do not turn down a chance to party.”
you feel him move behind you, long fingers fiddling with the thin fabric of your t-shirt. he yawns like a puppy.
“i’d had a busy day,” he begins. “i needed some sleep and you know how bad i am at getting to sleep alone...”
his knuckle accidentally brushes your navel. you shiver.
“…besides you weren’t there. i’ve missed having you around y/n, now that i see it.”
your skin flushes hot, lips involuntarily swelling into a smile. you turn your face into your pillow, determined to bury your happiness into the fluff.
“i’ve missed you too,” you confess.
his blunt nails graze against your flesh again, and you wonder how much of it was accidental anymore. could Chan tell? did he know how down bad you were for him?
“liar,” he whispers, squeezing your body lightly into his own.
he liked to do that, you had noticed. almost as if finding a way to inch closer, as if making up for the fact that there would always be some molecular distance between you no matter what.
or maybe you were just reading too much into it.
you place a hand over his own, fingertips drawing subtle lines into his pale skin, tracing the veins you stared at shamelessly in broad daylight.
“you really think i’d lie to you?”
“you wouldn’t?” he asks.
you turned around, facing him. your hand settles on his bare chest. you could feel his heart beat beneath your touch.
“no,” you confirm. “never.”
he smiles, his hair getting into his eyes as he puts his forehead against yours.
“okayyy,” he giggles. “tell me something then, since you claim to not lie.”
your heart picks up pace, hammering beneath your chest, and you were half afraid Chan might hear it. you swallow thickly, a small lump forming in your throat.
“yeah?”
his gaze wraps over you like a veil, clouding everything else just enough that he is all you can see.
"do you like me?" he whispers.
the question drops in your heart and sinks into your gut. you've been caught, red-handed. but you were so careful, so vigilant, looking but never for too long, complimenting him but being careful not to flirt, telling him you love him when he needed to hear it but taking care to conceal the love you felt.
you want to play it cool. you're scared of how it's going to go.
"duh," you say. "of course i like you, why else would we be friends?"
he clicks his tongue, a soft laugh escaping his lips. he drops a light kiss on your forehead and you sigh.
"you're not that naive," he states. "come on, I'll wait for you."
you feel your cheeks heat up. it gets harder by the second to stay still, not with chan's fingers rubbing warmth into your back, his face so close you could steal a kiss. he was no fool. he never had been. who did you think you were hiding from?
"i..." you begin, your mouth drying up. "yeah."
you feel his marble fingers slip under your chin. pressure, soft but commanding, forced you to look at him.
"you what, sweetheart?"
the endearment sent you spiraling. you squeeze his muscled shoulder, fingers digging into flesh.
"don't be an ass," you say. "i'm not gonna say it."
he chuckles. you watch his gaze move across your face, settle on your lips, and then back to your eyes again. you didn't want to think ahead of yourself.
you didn't want to break your heart.
he leaned in, his arm circling around your waist, his mouth leaving a soft kiss to your temple. you could die like this and it wouldn't be so bad.
"please," he whispers. "you said you'd be honest."
and who were you to turn down chan with his gentle voice and sturdy hands and body warmth and huge heart and ---? you could go on forever.
you grind your teeth together unconsciously, draw in a deep breath, and sigh. he knows you're giving in.
"i do like you," you admit finally. "so much more than a friend."
his palm slides up your back and finds your hair, long fingers gripping them and pulling you in. he smiles when he kisses you- mouth tasting of cinnamon and longing and want.
"fucking finally," he breathes. "you've got no idea how long i've waited for this."
you melt into a caramel puddle in his hands. you lean in again, pressing your lips onto his like he'd disappear, like this is all you've got.
taglist: @tinysoftie
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veltana · 6 months
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No one as sweet as you - Mafia!Stucky/Reader
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✦ Pairing: Stucky/Reader ✦ Word count: ~9,4k ✦ Rating: Explicit ✦ Warnings: Mafia AU, best friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, protective!stucky, TW: reader is verbally and physically abused by john walker, idiots in love, sharing a bed, poly relationship, piv sex, dirty talk, cunnilingus, praise kink, pet names (Sweets), unprotected sex, creampie. ✦ Summary: When you’re hurt by your boyfriend you go to the two people you can depend on for anything, Steve and Bucky, your best friends. ✦ Note: This is a fic that was previously posted on AO3, at the beginning of the year. But since I'm stuck in writer's block right now I thought I would post this in case you haven't read it. It's one of my favorites. There are some short prequel fics to this also posted on AO3, about when they were living together in college. I'll post those too in the following weeks.
Series masterlist
Masterlist | AO3
The bouncer gives you one glance before he opens the door for you and the line of people you pass shout angrily but you don’t even spare them a glance, your thoughts elsewhere. The music in the club usually invigorates you but tonight it passes through without leaving a trace.
Making your way to Monica at the bar, the people you pass shoot you weird glances and you know you must look a mess. When she sees you she comes right over, the music is too loud to talk so you share a squeeze of the forearm in place of a hug before she pours you your favorite wine, with a pitying smile at your smeared mascara. You throw a kiss at her before making your way to the back and once again the big man at the door opens it for you after a quick look.
The music is muted as you make your way to the stairs at the back that take you up to their private room. When your heels land at the top and you meet Bucky's eyes he lifts the girl currently on his lap off and declares "Everyone out."
Steve shoots him an irritated look before his eyes follow Bucky's and sees you. You stand perfectly still while the women and men who were enjoying a private party with two of the biggest mobsters in New York mill past you down the stairs, some even shoot you dirty looks.
When the last person has passed, you take a step towards them, but before you're two steps in, Bucky has taken the glass from your hand and Steve has lifted you into his arms. You cling to him, hands grasping his shirts, and finally, you know you’re safe.
Steve sits down with you in his lap, cradling your head to lean it against him, the other arm holding you tight at your waist. Bucky's palms are gentle when he rubs your back soothingly. None of them say anything at first but the tears running down your face speak for themselves. You made it all the way without breaking down but with them, you can be vulnerable. For the last seven years, they’ve been the rock, the shelter, and your haven.
"Talk to us, Sweets," Bucky's voice is only that soft with you, maybe sometimes with Steve too, “What’s going on?” You try to take a deep breath, but it just stutters. After a few more tries it’s better but you’re not sure where to begin. They give you time, and don't press you on information, like they otherwise do in their line of work.
Finally, you release Steve's shirt and instead, you find the hand he has wrapped around your waist, twisting the rings on his fingers as you try to speak. You don't want to look at them, the shame and the anxiety is running high in your body but you want to tell them, you just have to find the right words.
"You know the guy I've been seeing," you start and feel Steve's arms tighten around you. Before you can say more Bucky mutters "I'm gonna kill him." Steve is calmer and asks, "What about John, Sweets?" He speaks into your hair, his voice is gentle but it has a hard edge. "He's been so sweet since we started going out, but he's been having a rough time at work lately," you squeeze your eyes shut, not wanting to remember, your heart beating like crazy. The memories bring forth the panic and the fear again and your breath gets shallow.
"It's alright Sweets, you're here with us, nothing can hurt you," Bucky's low voice is comforting, together with their touch, and you know he’s telling you the truth. It’s the reason you came here instead of going home.
You take a few more breaths and continue "So I thought I'd do something nice for him. We had a spa day and while he soaked in the tub I made dinner and dressed up for him." Frowning hard, your fingers spin the rings on Steve's hand faster and faster the more your anxiety builds, knowing what’s coming.
"And everything was great until I poured the wine and spilled some on the tablecloth." Your mouth opens and closes a few times and the tears start to fall again but Bucky is there with his thumbs, cradling your face and brushing them away, while Steve rocks you gently in his embrace.
"He was furious," you cry. "Said I ruined everything! He threw the wine in my face, then the bottle across the room. He tried to grab me but I ran out of there." There is a long silence when you finish, it’s just your sobs and the music from the other side of the wall. Then Steve says "I'm gonna fucking kill him," his voice laced with rage, and he hugs you even closer.
"I took a cab here, I didn’t know where else to go, I didn’t wanna go home." With the last words out you feel a small relief. You’ve told them. You’ve told someone. The scene still plays in your head, seeing John's eyes turn black with rage when the drops of rosé landed on the white linen, feeling the fear when he started screaming.
"Thank you for telling us, Sweets. You’re an incredible person," Steve says and moves you out of his lap and over to Bucky's. They treat you with the utmost care, moving slowly, giving you time to protest if you want, or detangle yourself if that's what you desire. But you let them manipulate your body how they like because sometimes they know what you need more than you do.
"You did nothing wrong," he goes on to say, holding onto your hands, letting his thumbs caress the skin. "John is an absolute fucking asshole and no one should be treated like that.” You meet his green-blue eyes that are only soft for you, and Bucky. Right now, Steve isn’t the feared mobster that people avert their eyes from when he enters a room, scared they’re going to end up in a ditch because they looked at him wrong. No, this Steve is your best friend.
"I don't want to be scared, and I don't want to go home in case he comes there," you confess. "You'll stay with us," Bucky decides, voice finite. "Let’s go home so you can take a shower and change clothes." You nod and are about to stand up but Bucky is quicker, changing his grip and holding you close as he gets up. He carries you to the car and doesn't let go of you until you're in their mansion, in the room you have there.
When he puts you down your feet are a little unsteady and they both look at you with concern, but you give them a weak smile “It’s okay.” "We'll be right outside, shout if you need anything," Steve tells you and when you nod they both step out and close the door softly behind them.
For a moment you stand still, trying to make sense of the last hours, wondering how everything went to shit. Then you finally get a good look at yourself in the tall mirror and see the black rivulets of mascara and eyeliner smudged down your cheeks, the foundation almost gone.
The dress is ruined by the wine and even if it was expensive and you can get it dry cleaned you don’t want it anymore. You pull it off and throw it into the trash can, quickly followed by the heels. The lingerie is one of your favorite sets but you're unsure if you will ever be able to enjoy it again without remembering how you chose it especially for John. After a moment it goes into the trash, and the earrings too, feeling like you need everything from the night to be gone.
The only thing you keep on your body is the necklace that was a gift from Bucky and Steve years ago and you haven’t taken it off since. It's custom-made with three delicate chains in gold, silver, and black twisted together. You loved it the moment you saw it, knowing that the chains were the three of you, twisted together through the rest of your lives. When you touch it with your fingers it makes you feel better, because you can feel them with you.
The shower feels more than just bodily cleansing and when you remove the last pieces of your smeared makeup, smoothing eye cream over your puffy eyes, the feeling of fear and panic is distant.
In the closet are a bunch of your clothes, probably more than you like to admit, but the best part is the drawer with their old t-shirts. You pull one out, not sure which of them it used to belong to, but it’s worn and soft against your skin. For a moment you press it against your nose, breathing in the detergent that reminds you of this place and all the wonderful memories that you have with them, before you find your pajama pants.
Out in your room you sit on the bed and look around at the muted colors. Bucky and Steve insisted that the room was yours, not just a guest room, and it makes you smile a little when you think about how much fun you had decorating it.
After taking a deep breath you open the door and find them just a few steps away. The look in Bucky's eyes is murderous and Steve's fists are clenched by his side, but when they turn to you they go back to being your best friends that you met in college all those years ago. "How are you feeling?" Bucky steps up to you and pulls you into a soft hug, tucking your head underneath his chin as you wrap your arms around his waist, breathing in the smell of him. Steve comes up behind you, placing his palms on your shoulders, rubbing the muscles carefully. "Better now," you answer. "But I never had dinner so I'm a bit hungry."
Bucky pulls away from you, cradling your face, tilting it up until you're looking right into his light blue eyes. "Let's go raid the kitchen," he smiles and holds your gaze for a few seconds more and there is so much love in those eyes it's almost scary. You know he would burn down the city if it made you happy, they both would, and that intensity is one of the many things that have kept you from finding out what it would be like to be theirs. You're not sure you'd be able to handle it.
When Bucky lets go of you, Steve's arm goes around your waist and he pulls you into him, Bucky takes your hand, lacing your fingers together, and you walk to the kitchen. You sit down at the kitchen island while they open the fridge.
"The chef made mac'n’cheese," Steve says and pulls out an oven pan, covered in tin foil with a post-it note on top with instructions for heating it. Bucky turns on the oven and says, "Want something to drink Sweets?"
"Soda?" you ask and Steve pulls a can out of the fridge before settling down beside you, handing it to you. You hand it right back "Please? I don't wanna fuck up my nails." That makes him chuckle as he opens it and the sound makes you warm on the inside so you lean your head against his shoulder.
"Thank you," you sigh. "For always being here for me. I'm sorry I ruined your party." "You didn't ruin shit," Bucky spits out, glaring at you from where he is standing by the oven. Steve and you chuckle at his harsh tone but then he leans forward, over the counter towards you, resting his large arms against the surface.
"I mean it, Sweets, don't you ever think you ruin anything by showing up, for any reason," his voice is stern but you know it comes from a place of love. "Thank you, Bucky, it means a lot," you smile.
When the oven is warm Bucky puts the tray in and pulls out plates. It only takes a few minutes and your tummy rumbles as the kitchen fills with the smell of cheese. Bucky and Steve make small talk about work things and you're grateful for them filling the silence while you finally get some food.
But it isn't the nice chicken that you cooked for John that you looked forward to eating and your eyes begin to burn. Even though you try to force the tears back they come anyway and run down your cheeks as you eat. Neither Bucky nor Steve notice until you reach for a paper towel and sniffle loudly. Not a second later you're wrapped up in Steve's embrace, crying into his shirt again while Bucky caresses your hair and nape. They mumble sweet things to you and tell you that you're safe and that nothing is ever going to hurt you again.
After a few minutes, the tears run dry. "I'm okay," you say and Steve loosens his hold, his eyes filled with concern for you. "You sure?" "Yeah, but I feel like I've been hit by a truck. Should probably try to get some sleep.” "We're sleeping in my room," Bucky decides and you nod, Steve too.
It's not unusual for the three of you to share a bed when one of you has had a rough time. The first time it happened was after finals and you all fell asleep in Steve's bed, totally exhausted, and slept better than you'd had in weeks.
Then it was after break-ups, yours, Steve's, Bucky's, somehow you all ended up in a bed together every time and it wasn't sexual at any point, just friends being there for each other and it continued through the years. The only time it was out of the question was when one of you was in a relationship, then it just felt weird, and from previous experience, it wasn't something that partners were all that accepting of.
You retrieve your pillows and cover from your room before settling in Bucky’s huge bed, your feet twisted up with Steve's, and Bucky is holding your hand. It's nice, it's familiar and you drift off knowing you're safe with them.
The room is dark when their soft voices wake you, but that might be because of the black-out curtains and not because it's still night. They’ve moved close enough to you that you can feel the warmth from their bodies on either side of you, and Bucky’s chest is right in front of your eyes when you open them slightly to peek. They don't notice you're awake and you don't feel like announcing it either, curious what they’re talking about.
"We let her decide." Even if Steve's tone is hushed it's still hard. "She is too sweet, you know she would never hurt a fly, she's going to say no," Bucky protests harshly in a whisper. This is interesting, you think.
"Even if you and I are fine with getting blood on our hands, maybe she doesn't want to live with that, maybe she wants to press charges." Steve has always been the more level-headed of the two, good with looking at things from all angles and keeping his cool. Bucky huffs and you want to giggle. His emotions always get him in trouble, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. When Bucky is angry he sees red and when he loves he does it with his whole soul and being. One time you asked Steve how he isn’t dead yet since his poker face seems to suck, but Steve explained that when they’re doing business he is usually calm and collected. When his emotions finally break through, people know they should probably run.
"Fine.” You can tell Bucky is not happy but he lowers his voice even more, and now it’s tinged with something else. “But I'm never letting her go again." His words together with his gentle tone make your heart skip. There was a time when you seriously thought about asking them to see if the three of you could work it out, and be more than just friends. But what you have with them is so precious that if it fails in the end, and you lose your best friends, you're not sure how you're going to go on.
"And you think I will?" Steve mutters. "We should have said something a long time ago." "Well, we can't go back in time. All I know is that I love her and I can't see her with anyone else ever again," Bucky's voice sounds like it's going to crack. He never cries but that is as close as it gets.
Steve reaches over you towards him, you can't see what he does but you know how Steve's comforting hands look on Bucky, you've seen it before. Sometimes they're even sweeter with each other than they are with you, when they think no one can see them, not even you. It's so clear that they love each other deeply, honestly it's surprising that they don't just date each other.
You hear Bucky hum in contentment and Steve gives a small soft laugh. It feels like a good time as any to pretend to wake up. You file away their words for another day, not ready to deal with them now in the wake of what’s happened. First, you need to heal the broken heart you're already nursing before thinking about giving it away again.
With a groan you turn from your side to your back, stretching and blinking your eyes open. They're lying on their sides, both resting their heads on their hands. "What time is it?" you mumble, rubbing your eyes. "Just past nine," Bucky informs you and brushes a few strands of hair out of your face. "And you two are still here?" "Just for you," Steve says softly and finds your hand, twisting your fingers together.
Both of them are early risers and you hate mornings, something they tease you for endlessly. "Honestly though, have you already, like, gone for a run, had breakfast, and then sealed some important deal?" "Nope." Bucky slides his arm in under your neck, placing the other hand on your hip, and pulls you closer to him. "We didn't want to leave in case you woke up." Steve shuffles closer, his chest pressing into your shoulder. "Didn't want you to think we left you all by yourself."
You hum and decide to ask "Would it be okay if I stay here a few days?" "Sweets, stay as long as you want. It's your home as much as ours,” Steve answers. "No,” you correct. “My name is definitely not on any papers for this house." "We can fix that if that's what you want. Just move here." Bucky is serious but you decide to laugh it off. "You'd like that wouldn't you?" "Like old times." he smiles.
"Except I have no desire to listen to the people you bring home scream and moan, got enough of that in college,” tumbles out of your mouth without really thinking of it. They exchange a look but before they can say anything you hastily continue. "Do you think I need to break up with John, or do you think he got the message when I left?"
An uneasy silence falls and Bucky breaks it. "I'm gonna be honest with you Sweets, I really wanna fucking kill him, and make it as painful and as horrifying for him as possible. Death will feel like a blessing in the end." Steve speaks next. "But it's your decision, and if you wanna press charges against him, we'll make our lawyers available."
It’s a lot to take in at that moment. "I don't know,” you answer truthfully. “It still hurts, I'm still scared but I'm not sure what will make it better." "When you've decided you let us know and we'll do whatever you want." Steve bends down to kiss the top of your head.
"If I see him on the street or something though I'm gonna punch him," Bucky says casually before letting go of you and getting out of bed. When his warmth leaves you, you whine and that makes him chuckle. He kneels on the bed and kisses your forehead. "Steve will keep you company while I make breakfast." "You mean go get what the chef has already prepared?" you joke. Bucky shoots you a look before leaving the bedroom.
"We should be glad he isn't actually cooking. Remember when he tried to make pancakes for his girlfriend and almost burned down the apartment," Steve notes. "That's because he got distracted. I mean, I'm glad I came out of my room when I did but the image of Bucky and her on the kitchen table still haunts me," you chuckle.
"You weren't exactly innocent back in those days either," Steve points out with a laugh. "But I never did it on the communal surfaces," you defend with a huff. "No, all we got was listening to you trying to stifle every sound and failing miserably." "Well, at least I didn't break a wall while fucking someone." "It was a shitty wall, never have that problem here." "See that's why I don't wanna move here." "We can soundproof your room?" "Or I can just live in my apartment?"
Bucky comes back with a breakfast tray and places it on the bedside table before pulling out your phone from his pants. "It's been buzzing nonstop since I got down," he explains and hands it to you right as the screen lights up with an incoming call.
"It's John," you tell them, and your chest floods with anxiety as you stare at the screen and sit up against the headboard. "Answer it," Steve sits up beside you, his shoulder brushing yours. Bucky is pressed against you much the same on your other side. "On speaker," he instructs and takes out his own phone to record the call.
Your hands shake as you swipe to answer. "H-hello." Your voice is wavering. "Baby! I'm sorry for yesterday, I'm sorry I got mad. I've been calling since you left, I've been so worried. I checked your place but you weren't home. Where are you?" John says in a worried voice. "I'm at a friend's house," you reply.
The feelings in your chest are conflicted, on one hand you never want to see him again but hearing his voice makes you remember that when he is good he is great, amazing even, and you would be lying if you said you didn't miss him. For the last few months, you gave it your all and you were even prepared to tell him you love him.
"I'll come and pick you up and let me apologize properly," he sounds pained like he is actually sorry for what he did. Fuck, it's so tempting to go back but you know better. You know that this is just the tip of the iceberg, and getting wine thrown in your face is probably not the worst that can happen.
"No, John." You try to sound confident but you're not sure it comes across. "I don't think it's going to work out between us." The moment you say the words the tears well up and Steve starts rubbing your shoulder." You're doing great," he whispers right by your ear so John doesn't hear.
"Are you-" John sounds shocked. "Are you breaking up with me… over the phone?" "Yeah, sorry." You cringe, you shouldn't be sorry. "You scared me yesterday and I feel like I don't know you anymore."
"Babe you don't need to be scared of me, I would never hurt you I swear," he sounds like he is about to cry and a part of you wants to comfort him. "You threw wine in my face and said some really mean things," you point out.
"I didn't mean any of that, I promise. You know I've had a lot on my plate lately and I didn't mean to take it out on you." There is some part of you that desperately wants to believe him. "That's not an excuse," you go on. "I'm not an object for you to take out your frustration on. It's not going to work John."
There is a long silence before he speaks again and now his voice is laced with rage instead. "Then you can come get your fucking things right now." "John, please don't-" you start but he cuts you off.
"You fucking bitch, you lead me on for months and then you break up with me over the phone, because what? You think I’m gonna hit you or something?" "Yeah, maybe," you answer truthfully. "You're such a dumb bitch, I would never lay a hand on a woman I care about."
Both Steve and Bucky stir beside you. When you shoot them a glance they are both staring at the screen with murder in their eyes. "Calling me names won't change my mind, John," it hurts when he says them, like an actual stab in the heart and it brings out more tears.
Bucky leans over and taps the mute button. "There is no way you're going over there, we'll send Sam and Vis." You nod and unmute while John is raging on about how dumb and useless you are and how he wishes he'd never wasted his time on you. "I'm going to send some friends to pick up my things."
"Oh, so you won't even face me yourself?” his voice is unrecognizable now. “You know what? I'm glad for what I did, I'm not sorry anymore, you're obviously a fucking coward and not worth a second of my time." Every ounce of fight is gone from you, you're just tired and want it to be over. You don’t want to listen to the hurtful words anymore so you simply say "Goodbye John," and don't even wait for a response before hanging up. You drop the phone into the sheets and bury your face in your hands, your body jerking with sobs.
Steve and Bucky’s arms go around you but you hardly notice, everything is just excruciating pain, your heart smashed into a million pieces. Twenty-four hours ago you were happy with a man you thought you knew, and loved, but now everything is broken and you're not sure what you’re going to do next.
It takes a long time for you to stop crying and when it finally ends you're exhausted, again. The coffee Bucky brought has gone cold but Steve holds a glass of juice to your lips and makes you take a few sips before coaxing some yogurt into your mouth. "Steve is going to stay with you while I take care of a few things. If you need me, you tell him and I'll be right back," Bucky promises when he leaves the bed again, taking the tray with him out of the bedroom.
"Is he going to kill him?" you ask softly as you sink down under the covers. Steve puts his arm around your waist and pulls you into his chest until your face is squished against it. "No," his voice is soft. "Not without me." "Steve…" "Can you blame us, Sweets? John was lucky it was over the phone or else we would have beaten him into a pulp for saying those things."
"He never acted like that before," you whisper. "I'm just happy you got out before he put his hands on you," Steve whispers back. "If you had shown up with bruises yesterday I might have lost it." "I love you," you tell him and he kisses the top of your head. "I love you too, Sweets, and I know Bucky feels just the same." You hum and let the exhaustion take over.
They have switched when you wake the next time, you're in Bucky's arms and he is carding his fingers through your hair speaking quietly to you. "Wake up Sweets, it's time for dinner."
Even if you’ve slept right through lunch you shake your head and swing your leg over his hip, clinging to him. "Don't wanna get up," you whine. "If you eat dinner, we can watch a movie on the couch afterward." He knows just how to tempt you and you need something to try and take your mind off everything.
"Candy?" you pull back. Even if the light in the room is dim you can still see the blue in his eyes, and the crinkles at the corners when he smiles. "You know we keep stock of everything you like, there is always something sweet for our Sweets."
You hug him hard. "I love you Bucky, you know that right?" "I love you too, Sweets." He kisses the top of your head, much like Steve did earlier. "And I know Steve feels just the same." That makes you giggle "Steve said the same thing." "Well he is a smart man," he shrugs.
Bucky all but pulls you out of bed but he doesn't force you to change out of your pajamas. He leads you to the kitchen where Steve is plating the food and your stomach grumbles when you smell it. They have set the table with candles and it looks lovely but it also reminds you of your last candle-lit dinner. Bucky sees the look on your face turns you away from it and tilts your chin up with his fingertips, "It’s…” he begins, hesitating, trying to find the right words. “We want to replace every bad memory, but if it’s too much too soon we’ll throw it all out.”
The scary thing is that he is serious. If you said the word they would throw everything out, but you don't want that, you want a nice dinner with them and try to get past what happened. Maybe it will help, maybe it won’t but you won’t know until you’ve tried. And if there is one thing you know for sure, it is that you are safe with them.
“It’s fine, I’ll try,” you promise with a smile before turning around to sit down at the table. Steve serves the food and Bucky pours you a glass of wine. After a few bites, Bucky brings up some stupid shit the three of you did a long time ago and through dinner, you reminisce about old times.
Since meeting John you haven't seen them as much because you learned early on that partners were weirded out or even jealous of what you had with them. Right now you can’t fathom why you would ever do that, because these two people are the best thing in your life.
You fold your napkin into your lap and look at them. "I'm sorry for, like, ghosting you the last few months," you swallow hard. "I've been a shitty friend but you always take care of me when I need you, and I’m so thankful for that. I promise I’ll do better."
"It's okay sweets," Steve smiles and reaches over the table to grasp your hand. Bucky takes the other and his thumb caresses your knuckles. "Don't apologize, there is no need." The lump in your throat is from love and not from sadness this time and you don't try to speak, just nod, squeezing their hands back.
Afterward, you cuddle up on the couch to watch a movie but ten minutes in you're already nodding off. When Steve and Bucky notice you're asleep they turn the TV off and Steve carries you up to Bucky's bedroom. "She has work tomorrow," Bucky whispers and pulls the cover up over your body. "Fuck, should we wake her?" Steve asks back. "No, let her sleep, she starts at nine so if we let her sleep til seven it should be fine."
Fortunately, the alarm on your phone goes off as usual but when you turn to snooze it, you instead roll into a warm chest. Steve grumbles and reaches for your phone, handing it to you before seizing you around the waist, and burying his face in your neck.
“Hey, I have to get up,” you mutter. It feels like your eyes are filled with sand and your head is pounding but you have to go to work nonetheless. “You don’t have to work,” he speaks into your skin and it makes a tingling feeling travel through you.
“Don’t be silly, let go of me,” you chuckle and detangle yourself. The other side of the bed is empty, Bucky already up. You drag yourself over to your room to shower before getting ready and eating breakfast. Steve insists on driving you to work and Bucky comes and sees you off with a long hug and a kiss on your hair. “I’ve put Clint and Peter to watch your apartment and Sam and Vis are going to be outside your work all day, Sweets.” “Thank you, Bucky.”
When Steve drops you off he points out the car. "If you see John or you for any other reason feel unsafe you can go to them right away, or call us,” he tucks a strand of hair in behind your ear. “Don’t hesitate. You mean everything to us and we want to keep you safe, Sweets,” You nod. “Thank you, Steve,” you whisper, leaning over the console to kiss his cheek before heading to work.
What you told yourself would only be a few days, turns into a few weeks and now it’s almost two months. Despite your initial refusal, you’re enjoying living with them again. A few times after the break-up, John tried to contact you and every time the phone started buzzing and your anxiety spiked you found one of them and they helped you through it.
You haven’t slept in your room once and neither has Steve, it's always the three of you sleeping in Bucky's bed. It could be because Bucky has an expensive bed that you sleep so soundly, but in the back of your head, you know it’s because their presence calms you.
If Bucky or Steve can't drive you to work, someone else does, your own car is still parked on the street by your apartment and you don’t have any desire to go get it. But you do miss some of your clothes, and toiletries, so maybe you should take it as a sign that you need to go back.
After getting home from work that day you walk up to their office, a little apprehensive. Both of them are leaning over the desk when you poke your head in, their cuffs rolled up, exposing their underarms. It’s enough to make your stomach flip, they look too good. Steve sees you first and a smile splits his face. “Hey Sweets, have a good day at work?”
Bucky turns and opens his arms towards you when you step into the room. His hug is warm and comforting and you answer Steve’s question with a yes, before taking a step back from them. "I know I said I was only going to stay a few days but it's been way more than that now, so I think I'll go back to my place after work tomorrow." You try to sound as neutral as possible, neither sad nor happy, just stating a fact.
"No," Bucky breathes, fists tightening at his sides. "I agree with Bucky, don't leave," Steve's voice is calm and his face doesn’t give much away but his eyes are betraying him, they’re too glossy, too wide, and too filled with fear to miss.
The other reason you need to go back home is the way they are treating you and touching you. It’s making your feelings run wild and you can't have that, you can’t risk losing them too. And if that wasn't enough they've invaded your dreams with their touches and words, making you wake up aching for them in a way that is totally inappropriate.
"I can't stay, you know that," you sigh. "No, I don't." Bucky is frustrated, staring at you. "I really fucking don't know why you can't stay. We love having you here and you seem to love being here. Just stay."
His mood is making you defensive, you don't want to explain that you're obviously catching feelings soon after getting out of something traumatic. You need to think, and every time you wake up drenched, tucked in between them you are seconds away from ruining everything by confessing or honestly just taking one of their hands and pushing it in between your legs, hoping they will help you get off.
"I need my own space, Bucky," you cross your arms and glare at him. "You have your own room," he states and takes a step closer. "That I don't use anyway," you reply and take a step back. "Because you don't want to!" His raised voice silences you not because you're scared but because he's right. Bucky isn’t stupid and he's not the type to sugarcoat things when he's upset.
Your heart is hammering. "No I don't want to," you confess with a breath. "But I need to." Then you turn to go but only get a step from the desk before Steve grabs your wrist. He spins you into his chest, Bucky coming up behind you, boxing you in between them. Bucky's head falls on your shoulder. "I can't let you go again, Sweets, I can't do it."
Your mind flashes back to the morning when you pretended to sleep and heard them talking. The breath in your chest hitches as you look up into Steve's blue-green eyes. “I’m with him, Sweets,” he says in a low voice and cups your cheek with his large hand. “You belong here, with us.”
Your mouth opens and you try to protest but it dies on your tongue and Steve takes the opportunity to continue. "We love you, more than anything, we want you to be ours, more than just our best friend. Live with us, be with us in every sense of the word. All three of us, together," his voice wavers at the end.
The words sink in slowly. Be with them. Be theirs. Stay. Your body is aching to say yes and your heart is about to beat its way out of your chest. “But…” “All I know is that I feel incomplete without you, like a part of my soul is somewhere else, and the only time I'm at peace is when I'm with you two. I can't keep living like a part of me is missing. So I'm asking you, please stay, please help us figure this out and be with us." Bucky’s arms wrap around your waist. "Every time I see you with someone else my heart gets ripped out of my chest and I've tried to be with other people, we both have, but in the end, they’re not you."
Their confessions break down your defenses as their words ring true. In all your relationships over the years, there's always been something missing but you've never been able to figure out what. There's been passion and there's been love but it's always lacking something and now you think you get it. It has lacked them and the deep connection you share through years and years of friendship. Feeling stupid about wanting to leave and thinking you weren’t ready to be with them makes tears well in your eyes. Whatever it is you three can figure it out, it may not be traditional but it beats being unhappy.
"Don't cry, Sweets." Steve runs his thumb over your cheek. You lean your head into his chest, nodding against it. "I'll stay," you sniffle. The arms around your waist tighten and Bucky speaks into your shoulder. "Really Sweets?" he sounds like he’s worried that maybe you're joking.
"Really Bucky," you promise, wrapping your arms around Steve and hugging him close. For a moment it’s just the three of you enveloped in your shared love but then Bucky rights himself and you look up at him over your shoulder, matching his silly smile.
He leans in like he is about to kiss you but he stops himself, his eyes searching yours for something, and it's scary. If you take the plunge everything will change, or maybe it won't, but it feels like an earthquake is rolling through your life, upsetting everything and if you let him kiss you it will be real. But that's what you want.
"Please?" you ask him and his whole face lights up before he closes the distance and presses his lips to yours. It could be described as fireworks, an erupting volcano, or maybe feeling the first rays of sunlight on your skin after years in darkness, but nothing will come close to the feeling of being kissed by Bucky.
It's a chaste kiss with just his lips moving carefully against yours. It's over quicker than you want but in his place is Steve, turning your head back towards him and descending on you. His fingers run through your hair and he opens your mouth to let his tongue play with yours, the feeling once again indescribable, it's just the feeling of right. Everything about it feels right.
Even if the kiss is slow when he pulls back your breathing is labored and you're clutching his shirt. "I-" you begin but can’t find any words. That kiss ignited something inside you, it's like you're seeing color for the first time, everything is clearer and sharper. What even was your life before?
"Are doing okay Sweets?" Bucky asks next to your ear and you nod in response. When his soft lips caress the side of your neck you whimper and lean your head to give him better access, he chuckles against your skin, nipping it and making you gasp. "I wanna eat you up, find out what you taste like everywhere."
It’s a badly kept secret that Bucky has a marking kink. You’ve seen his exes, you know he's possessive and likes to leave marks. You can't wait to have them on you so you whisper, "Mark me.”
Steve chuckles above you. "She knows you, Bucky," he says with a smile. "You too, Steve, please?" You’re almost begging, but not quite, just asking nicely. "You want me to give you a hickey?" he asks with a crooked smile but those eyes are too easy to read. He craves you. "Or a bruise, or a bite mark, something, anything," "Fuck…" His face changes to match his dark eyes. "You want everyone to know you belong to us, Sweets?" he asks with a hoarse voice and you feel the large bulge in his pants press against your stomach.
You nod, biting your lip. "Show me how you do it, Bucky.” They spin you around and Bucky grabs at the collar of your blouse, pulling harshly, sending the buttons flying over the office. “Hey-” you begin but he pulls the fabric aside exposing the juncture between your shoulder and neck. First, he sinks his teeth in, hard enough for you to hiss but not breaking the skin, then he closes his lips and sucks.
It's painful but the act in itself makes you throb. When he pulls back you release your breath but Steve is quick to pull the neckline on the other side and do the exact same thing. He is gentler but when he's done there is still a purple bruise on your skin. "Fuck me," you whimper against Bucky.
"Yes, Sweets, we will. Long and hard until you can't take it anymore. We're going to ruin you." Steve promises before he grabs you and lifts you up, spinning you so you can wrap your legs around him as he starts walking to the bedroom, Bucky right behind you. You reach your hand out towards him and he grabs it, kissing your palm and knuckles. "We're going to take care of you Sweets, you'll never want for anything," he promises with a wicked smirk.
Steve places you on the edge of the bed and stands up, looking down at you. Bucky comes up beside him, resting his forearm on Steve's shoulder. "Look at our sweets, can you believe it?" Bucky asks. Steve turns to him with a smile. "Yes." Then he places two fingers under Bucky's chin, turning his head before kissing him. It's heated, filthy and it's the hottest thing you've ever seen. You squeeze your legs together to alleviate some of the pressure you're feeling in your cunt. Their kiss shows that it's nothing new, they've obviously done it before and you're a little mad that they have withheld this from you.
When Steve starts pulling on Bucky's clothes you can't keep the moan from slipping out. They both break away and turn to you and you feel small in the best way possible. "Did you like that?" Bucky asks before leaning down and kissing you.
The knowledge that his tongue was just in Steve's mouth and is now sliding against yours makes you moan again. You start undoing the buttons on his shirt and he pulls on your top. When you separate, he pulls it off and you’re left in just your bralette. Steve makes a sound in the back of his throat at the sight and starts taking off his own clothes.
Bucky kneels in front of you on the floor, unbuttoning your pants and pulling them off, while you stare at Steve as more and more skin is revealed. He holds your gaze the whole time and you bite your lip when he starts at his pants. His chest and forearms are huge, covered in tattoos but in no way hiding the muscle underneath. It makes your mouth water and your cunt clench.
Bucky starts kissing up your bare leg, beginning at your ankles and slowly working his way up your calve and the inside of your thigh. When you're still staring at Steve he nips your skin. "I know he's gorgeous but when I eat your pussy I want your eyes on me, Sweets." He tries to look offended but his pupils are blown wide with lust.
Just the thought of him between your legs makes a shiver run through you and your cunt impossibly wetter. Nodding at him you caress the side of his face and watch him, the closer he gets, the more you start to tremble with need. No one had ever made you feel so needy and horny.
Bucky kisses your cunt through your underwear, making you gasp. "Please Bucky, I need you." "I know, I can smell how fucking wet you are Sweets." He twists your panties out of the way. "Fuck, Steve, look at her, she's dripping."
Steve, in just his underwear now, slides his fingers gently through the mess, making you tremble and moan, before bringing the fingers to his mouth and holding your gaze as he licks them clean. Then Bucky's mouth is on you, his tongue licking from your core up to your clit.
"Fuck-fuck-fuck-" you cry and grab the sheets under you, bucking up into his touch. Steve chuckles and gets behind you on the bed. "He looks like he's in heaven, Sweets. He has wanted you for so long." You feel his fingers undo the clasp of your bra and then slide it off. His hands cup your tits a second later, making more sounds spill out of your mouth. His fingers rub, caress, and pull on your nipples while Bucky is hurdling you toward your climax.
"I'm- I'm gonna-" Your legs shake and you grab Steve's arm with one hand, the other going to Bucky's head, grabbing his short hair. Every muscle in your body tenses right before the coil snaps, making you scream out your release, riding Bucky's face and feeling the pleasure-filled waves travel through your body.
You slump against Steve's and he holds you. Bucky pulls back with a shit-eating grin, wiping his face with the back of his hand, saying "Fuck Sweets," before he stands up and starts taking off his clothes.
You already feel amazing, high off your orgasm but you want more and Steve's hard-on is pressing into your back. You turn around on the bed. "Move up," you tell him and his smirk is knowing but he does as you say and moves to sit against the headboard.
You rid yourself of your drenched panties before grabbing his boxers and pulling them off. "Eager Sweets?" he chuckles and fists his cock as soon as it's free. It's thick and long as him and you can't fucking wait. You bite your lip before asking "Condom?"
"I know we should but I want to feel you raw Sweets,” he confesses. “Are you on birth control?" "Sure, and I got tested the week after…" you trail off not wanting the bad memories to ruin the moment. Bucky's heat is suddenly behind you, grabbing your hair and forcing your head back to kiss you deeply. When he lets go he says, "Steve and I got tested like a week before you moved in and I've not even looked another person's way since then." Steve laughs "And I haven't fucked anyone either so get over here and ride my cock Sweets."
To say you scramble is an accurate description, quickly shuffling over to him and straddling his hips. You hold onto his shoulders as he swipes the head of his cock through your mess, holding it still for you to sink down on.
All three of you moan in unison as his dick disappears into your tight hot channel. The grip Steve has on your hips is almost bruising and the look on his face is painful. “F-fuck. Sweets. Damn.” Is all he gets out. You lean in, kissing his cheeks and chin and lips, and start to move, slowly, the feeling is amazing, he's filling you up to the brim perfectly.
"Feels so good," you stutter and then drop down hard. "I'm never watching porn again," Bucky says from behind you and you watch him over your shoulder, kneeling on the bed and jerking his cock. You whine in the back of your throat, you want him too, so you reach for him as you bounce on Steve's cock, making him spill the most delicious sounds.
Bucky shuffles over and you grab his dick in your hand, he's big enough that it doesn't fit all the way around. His hand lands on Steve's shoulder to steady himself and Steve reaches out to place a hand on his hip.
The sounds the three of you make fill the room. It's moans, groans, and whimpers, the sound of slapping skin and squelching wetness. Your clit is steadily rubbing against Steve, getting you closer and closer. Bucky is panting heavily, Steve is too.
"Sweets, I can feel you. Are you gonna come on my cock?" Steve is trying to sound unaffected and failing miserably, but he continues to spill filth that rushes you toward the edge. "When I've filled you up, Bucky is gonna fuck my cum right back into you, aren't you Buck?" "Fuck yes," he groans before leaning in and kissing you deeply. “I wanna see you come on his cock Sweets.”
"Next time I wanna feel both of you come in me at the same time," you whimper. "Sweets, you goddamn slut." Steve groans with a laugh and bucks up into you harder. "Tell us more! Please! I want to hear every filthy little thought hidden inside that mind."
You turn to look at Bucky. "I want both of you in every hole. I want you to use me like I'm a toy and worship me like a queen," you tell him, then turn to Steve. "Put my name on the house and celebrate it by fucking in every room, on every surface, show me all of your kinks, give me everything."
Steve's eyes are screwed shut and he's let go of Bucky to grab your hips, pulling you down onto his big cock. "Keep going," you urge him, your release just a few thrusts away. But he's too close and before you can get there he suddenly sits up to wrap his arms around your waist, crushing you against his chest, thrusting up hard, and comes with a loud moan of your name.
You feel wild, right on the edge of ecstasy but left dangling in mid-air. With pleading eyes and a whine you look at Bucky who smirks at you before pulling you away from Steve and laying you on your back. A second later he fills you up, the sound of his cock pushing through Steve's mess is as sweet as it's nasty.
"Please, Bucky, please," you beg. "Yeah I know, don't worry, not gonna blow my load early," he taunts over his shoulder at Steve who just gives him the finger. "Understand him though, you’re so tight and warm Sweets. Makes me a bit crazy. I just want to fill you up over and over again," he confesses.
"I need to-" you begin but he cuts you off. "Rub your clit for me. Come on my cock," he demands but you know something that is even better than your own fingers and you reach out your arm.
"Steve," you plead and he crawls over to you and lays down beside you, pushing his hand in between your bodies, finding your clit. You arch off the bed with his touch, hands clutching Bucky's arms as he rams into you. The dual sensation is amazing and with how close you were seconds ago the end approaches quickly. Your moans get louder the closer you get and both Bucky and Steve praise you the whole way through.
"You sound so fucking pretty."
"I can barely move you gripping me so tight."
"You're so good at taking cock, Sweets. First mine and now Bucky's, it's like you were made for us."
You nod at the last thing and the pressure in your body is breaking, making your muscles convulse, almost pushing Bucky out with how hard you're coming, screaming their names as you do.
"Fuck! Yes, Sweets!" Bucky’s laugh is a little manic as he works you through it. "I'm going to fill our sweet little cunt with more cum." His hips stutter against you before he groans out your name and collapses on top of you. You run your fingers over his sweaty back and kiss his cheek. Then you turn to Steve, smiling at him beside you. "He's heavy," you complain.
Both of them laugh and Bucky rolls off before they move until you're squeezed in between them, their cum running down your legs, making a mess on the bed. Fortunately, you have at least two other beds to sleep in.
For a few months, you're walking on air. In a throuple with your two best friends, amazing sex, luxury beyond what you could have ever imagined. They constantly spoil you and they've tried to convince you to quit your job since you don't need to work when you're with them.
Tonight you're in another fancy restaurant. Bucky is trying to feed you chocolate cake because it's romantic but you tell him over and over again that you can eat by yourself. Suddenly Steve stiffens beside you and since he isn't known to have tells, you immediately get worried and follow his gaze.
John is standing at the door with a pretty girl on his arm, talking to the waiter and then being shown to a table. Next to yours.
When your eyes meet he stops for a second and his date shoots confused looks between the two of you, before you nod and he nods back, then moves again and sits down.
Steve asks for the check and you're out of your seat and outside the restaurant in no time. Bucky holds your coat as you put it on and a moment later Steve comes out too. His eyes are black with hate and when you're finally in the car you realize that you can't live like this.
"I think-" you begin, swallowing then clearing your throat, "I think I'm going to need those lawyers."
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hs-is-loml · 5 months
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You Know This. (cl16)
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Pairing: Charles Leclerc x best friend!Reader
Summary: moments of charles and reader throughout the years that show they are so obviously meant for each other so carlos gives them a small push. (they are basically together but without the title...)
Warnings: mentions of Jules and Hervé so little angst but the majority is fluff! one kiss? lando swears. cute couple moments of two idiots UNEDITED
a/n: almost forgot how to write compared to the social media AUs i've been doing... hope you enjoy :)
all translations of french below
Chérie = darling
masterlist
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19 years old
You stared out the window overlooking the streets of Baku until you heard a sigh from across the room.
“I’m so tired. Is it even worth going through this weekend?” Charles admitted as you looked over to him running his hands over his face while he took a seat on the edge of the hotel bed. “I don’t know if I’ll make it through.”
“No one will blame you if you don’t,” you said walking over to stand in front of him. 
“That’s what they all expect isn’t it?” 
“You’re doing more than enough just being here,” you brought your hands to his face and gently rubbed your thumb along his jaw. 
“I miss him, Y/n. How am I supposed to continue without him?” he whispered while he wrapped his arms around your frame and pulled you closer to lean his head against your stomach. 
You could tell that he had finally reached a breaking point from holding out on his own emotions as he helped everyone in the family with theirs. You knew that he was staying strong for Pascale and Arthur while Lorenzo was handling everything for Hervé’s funeral. When he asked you to accompany him for this race, you said yes without any doubts crossing your mind.   
You soon feel his shoulders shake as he lets out soft sobs. “You continue for him. Just like you have done for Jules, they’re going to watch your legacy grow together. One day you’ll be driving in that red car placing poles and winning races. You will make it through this,” you played with the hair at the nape of his neck as you reassured him.
You were aware that he had told Hervé a few weeks ago that he had signed with Ferrari already. In the past few years, it had always been the goal. Everyone understood how crucial it was for him to make that come true.
“You can’t be sure of that.”
“I know, but I believe in you. We all do. It’s only a matter of time.”
“What would I do without you?” he lifted up his head to look at you.
“Well, it’s a good thing I never plan on leaving you,” you leaned down to press a gentle kiss on the crown of his head. 
"I'll never let you go."
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20 years old
You were talking with Andrea and Lorenzo near the Alfa Romeo motorhome while you all waited for Charles to finish with media day. “How do you think he’s doing with the news?” you anxiously looked around in the hope of seeing him heading your way. “The media has gone wild when the contact got out that he signed with Ferrari.”
“Probably basking in the attention,” Lorenzo laughed. “You know how long he’s waited for this.”
“That boy never fails to catch the camera either,” Andrea added while you covered your mouth with your hand trying to stifle your laugh when you realized that Charles was finally done for the day. 
Charles came to your side snaking an arm around your waist and teasingly poked you, “What are you three laughing about you?” 
“You,” all of you replied, causing him to gasp in fake annoyance. 
“I know ma chérie would never do such a thing,” he shook his head at the two men. “Enzo, look how bad of an influence you are.” Which was Andrea’s queue to quietly leave before he was targeted by the young driver too. He took Lorenzo along with him as the older brother gaped at the accusation. 
You both started to head to his driver’s room to gather his things before driving back to the hotel. “How was it?” you asked him while you took out his phone from your purse.
“A lot. It feels like it’s never ending and everyone keeps congratulating,” he smiled and reached out for the phone. 
“I’ve only heard of all the good things so far,” you tell him and hand the phone back to him. 
You had begun to look for your jacket, and it was almost as if he had read your mind, “It’s right here, I’ve got it.”
As you two walked out of the paddock, there were still crowds of fans and photographers lingering around the area hoping to catch a glimpse of one of the drivers. People started to whisper and squeal when they saw Charles place his hat on your head allowing you to shield your face from the now flashing cameras. 
“Who is she?”
“Aww, that’s so sweet!”
“They must be dating.” 
“Charles! Over here!”
“Can you sign this for me please!”
You listened to all the hollers from the crowd as you got into the car, “Wow.”
“You okay?” Charles softly asked and glanced at you before starting to drive back to the hotel.
“Were they always like that while you were in F2 and I’ve never noticed?” you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 
“I’m not sure,” he chuckled at your reaction. 
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21 years old
“He has one more corner!” you held onto Andrea’s arm anxiously looking at the screen.
“MERCEDES THREW EVERYTHING AT HIM TODAY… CHARLES LECLERC HAS COPED BRILLIANTLY!” you heard from the speakers.
“HE’S GOT IT!” one of the crew members screamed when they saw Charles shoot down to the line.
“HE WINS IN SPA, HE WINS IN MONZA! CHARLES LECLERC IS THE WINNER OF THE 2019 ITALIAN GRAND PRIX!” David Croft announced as Charles crossed the finish line. He had just won in Monza in front of the infamous Tifosi. 
You felt yourself get pushed to the front of the barrier as people started rushing to see the winner. The momentous scene couldn’t have been better. He had just ended the nine-year winless streak in Monza and scored his second consecutive race win. All you could hear in the hectic moment was the Ferrari crew chanting out in Italian for Charles. The crowds of fans roared out in cheers and the stands filled with raised Ferrari and Italian flags. 
You will never forget the moment he jumped down from on top of his car and made his way over to you. His hands found your sides as you held the sides of his helmet. “You did it,” your smile wide and eyes filled with tears as you focused on him. 
“For them,” he told you tenderly.
“For them,” you repeated and placed a kiss right where you thought the corner of his mouth would have been. The crew reached over to congratulate him, and the cameras were pointed directly at him wanting to capture the moment. 
The podium ceremony was scintillating. The crew, media, and Tifosi all packed in to see their winner. Andrea knew to keep you close to the front knowing that Charles would want to see you more than anyone else. It wasn’t only you looking up at him in admiration though it seemed like the world stopped for a moment when he blew a kiss back down to you from the podium.
Your cheeks flushed from the action and beamed as you met his eyes, “I love you,” you mouthed to him hoping he could read your lips from the stand. 
“I love you,” he replied back.  
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22 years old
With COVID delaying the F1 season and everyone having to quarantine. You and Charles had decided to move in together into his apartment to keep each other company. It wasn’t hard to fall into a routine for you two. 
“Y/n! Can you bring me water please?” you heard a yell from Charles’ gaming room.
You got up from the couch and set aside your book heading into the kitchen. Decided to bring him a small pack of crackers as well along with the water since he had been on stream for a while. You brought the plate to him which he thanked you for and gave your hand three small squeezes. 
The simple interaction caused the chat to make tons of new comments flow through regarding you. Over the past few years, you found yourself more comfortable with your life in front of the camera because of his career, and it makes you look back to the times of Charles’ first year in F1. You could now give a small wave to the camera before you planned to head back out to the door.
“That’s not fair,” you heard Lando complain from the screen, causing you to halt in your footsteps to listen closely. “You have Y/n to bring you stuff, and you don’t even need to stop the game.”
“Lando’s just jealous he doesn’t have anybody,” George snickered.
“Damn right, I am,” Lando huffed out. “I want a Y/n.”
Charles noticed you silently laughing and he motioned for you to come back over wanting to tease Lando a bit more. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in closer to be in the frame, “Too bad there’s only one of her.”
Lando started muttering about how it was not his fault that he was alone during these times all while you shook your head at their antics. Alex and George continued the jokes creating a newfound argument that moved the topic away from you and Charles. “What do you want for dinner?” you questioned him softly not wanting to disrupt the chaotic banter from the others.
“Will you make carbonara?”
“DID YOU HEAR THAT??” Lando pointed to the screen baffled. “SHE EVEN COOKS DINNER FOR HIM! WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN? Y/N, WILL YOU COOK FOR ME NEXT TIME?”
“Sure, Lando. Once quarantine ends we can plan something out,” you replied with a sweet smile towards the camera.
“YES!” he cheered out at your response.
“Once we get back to racing, will you bring your cookies again?” George asked excitedly.
“Or the muffins!” Alex added on. 
“I’ll go and bring them if you bring Lily, Alex!” you answered them.
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24 years old
You told Charles earlier in the week telling him that you couldn’t make it to the Bahrain Grand Prix due to work. Really you just wanted to surprise him, and you had been in contact with Carlos planning it out.
“I think he is getting suspicious of me,” Carlos told you over the phone as you got your bags together waiting for Carlos’ cousin to come and get you from the airport.
“Well, I’ve only sent him short messages for the past few days and maybe ignored a couple of his calls because I can’t keep lying to him…” you explained which caused the man on the other side of the phone to snicker at your dispense. 
“I swear you want him to kill me, Y/n. Once he finds out.”
“Find out what? Who are you talking to all the time, mate?” you listened to Charles continuously question Carlos.
"No one!" Carlos quipped.
"Is that Y/n?" Charles asked him.
"No, it's my sister..."
“Good luck!” you hung up the call quickly and got into the car with Carlos Oñoro.
“Charles found out?” he started heading to the hotel that the Ferrari team was staying at. 
“Hopefully not yet, but Carlos was talking about how he’s on to him already.”
A notification went off on your phone and you saw it was a text message from Carlos.
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You opened your messages with Charles and came up with something quick to text him about.
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at the circuit 
“Hermosa! You made it!” Carlos exclaimed when he saw you walking towards the group of the drivers that just got out of the media pen. "I swear he was going to choke me earlier."
You laughed at his remark and went over to his side to whisper to him, “He doesn’t know I’m here yet, right?”
He tugged you a bit closer and kept his hand on your upper back. He spoke into your ear in a hushed tone while carefully looking around, “Not a clue, but you remember what I said over text? You say he’s not your boyfriend yet, so let’s mess with him just a little. It’ll prove something to you.”
“Prove what-” 
You were cut off by Lando as he finally took notice of your presence, “Y/n! Tell me you brought them!”
“Yes, Lando,” you smiled, taking a small packaged bag of cookies out of your bag before you could even hand them to him. He had snatched it and already begun opening the bag. “Yours are back at the hotel,” you told Carlos who was trying to take one from Lando.
“GIVE ME ONE!” George yelled at Lando who took his chance and ran off with his cookies. 
“NO!” causing George to chase after the Mclaren driver. 
Another group of drivers came over as they had just finished with their interviews. You saw Charles talking with Sebastian but he didn’t see you yet. “Sweetheart! A pleasant surprise, Charles was just talking about how you couldn’t make it,” Sebastian said with a smile as he walked past you with Fernando. 
“Hello, Sebastian,” you smiled back and felt a breath near your ear. 
“How long do you think it will take him to drag you away?” Carlos said in a low voice.
“He wouldn’t,” you mutter back.
“Oh, yes he would. Good luck with him,” Carlos grinned as Charles had stormed over to you two and grabbed a hold of your wrist.
“Charlie!” you yelped as you tried to keep up with his pace towards the Ferrari’s motorhome and into his driver’s room. 
He shut the door behind him, “So you can text Carlos but not me?”
"What are you talking about?" you acted confused."
"I know you were on call with Carlos earlier. But you couldn't even answer mine this morning?"
“It was supposed to be a surprise, Charles,” you huffed out.
“What a surprise that you and Carlos are together now?” he scoffed at the mere thought.
You began to laugh aloud which caused him to frustrate even further, “E-ex-cuse me?” you said through your laughter.
“This is not funny, Y/n.”
“Charles, it’s funny you think that I would even do anything with Carlos in the first place,” you pointed out to him while setting your bag down on a chair. 
You heard his footsteps come closer to you until you felt him press against your back, “Are you not?”
You turned around to face him and took his face in your hands, “Of course not.”
“Good,” he placed his hands on your waist rubbing up and down your sides.
“And why is that?” you raised your eyebrow at him.
“Y-you kno-o-ow b-b-because you’r-re…” he trailed off a stuttering mess caught off guard by your question.
You stroke his jaw with your thumbs and brought his face closer to yours, “Charles, I’m yours. You know this.”
He leaned down and closed the gap between your lips in a long-awaited kiss. He kissed you gently as if he were testing the waters. You smiled against his lips and moved to wrap your arms around his neck as his hands moved to your hips. You moved forward slightly to lean more into him and he let out a groan against your mouth. He stilled in the kiss, keeping your hips in place from moving further. 
“No more surprises, okay?" he said as you separated.
"Okay, but no more jumping to conclusions either."
"You are going to give me gray hairs early, Chérie," he exasperated.
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hairmetal666 · 1 year
Text
By the grace of Robin Buckley, Steve gets into college.
She's his first real friend and it's because he knows her, loves her, learned to be a better person from her, that he's able to smile politely and take the hand of his new roommate. His long-haired, tattooed, dressed in all black roommate, who has already put up dark and menacing posters of bands Steve has never heard of and a bedsheet banner with the words "Corroded Coffin" painted on the fabric.
"Eddie Munson," his roommate says.
"Steve Harrington."
"Good to meet you, roomie." Eddie smiles so big it makes dimples pop. It's a good look. "Parents on the way with the rest of your stuff?"
"Oh, er--just me, actually."
Eddie's smile doesn't waiver. "Need some help?"
Normally, Steve would say no, but he just spent the last hour unloading Robin's stuff. "That would be great, thanks."
So, they work together to get Steve moved in, and as they work, he learns more about his roommate. He is a weirdo, an oddball, fundamentally strange, but Steve can't help but be charmed.
Eddie puts on music, something aggressive with loud guitars and drums, and Steve unpacks. He pulls out a picture of himself with the kids during one of their game nights, displaying it carefully on his desk.
"Wait," his new roommate says. "You? And the dnd children?"
Steve laughs. "They're the kids I babysit. You play that nerd game?"
Eddie's nose wrinkles. Something in the back of Steve's mind notes that it's cute. "Nerd game? Dnd is So. Much. More. It's--it's storytelling and strategy and--" Eddie stops, blinking at Steve. "You're fucking with me, aren't you?"
"Little bit," Steve smiles.
"I can't believe you know dnd. That you babysit nerds. You look like such a jock," Eddie shakes his head in disbelief.
"I am a jock," Steve agrees. "And I love those dorky little shitheads. I tolerate the game."
"Steve Harrington. You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"
"Guess so." The smiles they share are wide and sweet, bringing out Eddie's dimples in way that makes Steve long to touch.
After that, they're inseparable. Robin and Eddie and Steve. They study, eat, go to parties, hangout; anything, as long as they're together.
---
Three weeks into the semester, as Steve gets dressed after swim practice, he pulls a shirt out of his bag that doesn't belong to him. It's a black tee, Metallica logo front and center. He chuckles, puts it on. It's soft from wear and smells of laundry detergent and Eddie--cigarettes and leather and some kind of sweet musk. The scent puts him at immediate ease.
He meets Robin and Eddie for lunch. They were early, already have their food and seats, so he walks over to drop off his backpack. Eddie gives him a bright, dimpled smile, but within seconds his mouth is falling open a little, the tips of his ears turning bright red.
"You alright, man?" Steve asks.
Eddie startles, grabs his cup, jamming the straw into his mouth to chew at the plastic."You're--my shirt?" he says.
"Oh, shit. Sorry. Grabbed it by accident. I'll wash it for you."
His roommate flushes pink. "N--no, you don't have to worry about it."
He wants to question Eddie further--he's being so weird--but Robin interrupts. "Dingus! Go get food. Hurry up!"
He does as he's told, but when he comes back, Eddie is even redder than before, and Robin has a wide smirk across her face.
"What is going on with you two?" He asks as he puts his tray down.
Neither of them answer, andEddie launches into a passionate re-telling of some music student drama, so Steve let's himself be distracted.
---
It's mid-October and Steve's coming home from the gym, the one place that Robin and Eddie refuse to accompany him. As he nears his room, he hears music. It's not heavy metal, but something soft and slow and acoustic.
He tries to be quiet as he unlocks the door and enters, doesn't want to disturb Eddie, doesn't want him to stop playing. He never practices when Steve is home, says he doesn't want to be a bother with the noise.
Eddie's sitting on his bed, guitar in hand. There's a battered notebook open next to him, a pencil held between his teeth. He hums a bit, pauses to jot something down, and goes back to playing.
He looks beautiful, Steve thinks, bent over his guitar.
Steve is just about to announce himself when Eddie stops playing again. He writes something in the notebook before resting his head in his head. "Pathetic, Munson. Get it together," he mutters.
"Hi!" Steve says. It startles Eddie, who jumps and almost drops the guitar.
"Stevie!" Eddie stumbles to his feet. "I--uh--you're home!" His face is crimson.
"You're really good, man," Steve says. "I'd love to hear more sometime."
"Uh-huh, uh-huh," Eddie nods his head, grabbing for the notebook and slamming it closed. "Sure thing." He stuffs his feet into his Reeboks. "I gotta--I gotta go. Back soon."
Eddie stumbles out their door, notebook clenched firmly in hand.
He is so weird.
---
In mid-November, Robin gets invited to a party by a cute girl. They all go.
Steve isn't trying to hook up. He hasn't slept with anyone since they started school, too caught up with Robin and Eddie. But there's a girl, wavy brown curls and wide green eyes (he has the fleeting thought that they should be deep brown, that it's wrong that they aren't), and she's smiling at him.
Flirting with her is easy.
He doesn't know what breaks his concentration, but he turns to face the rest of the room, eyes falling on Eddie. Eddie who is watching him, his deep brown eyes swimming with hurt, with anger.
It sends a shock of pure panic up his spine. "Eddie!"
Eddie turns on his heel, disappearing in the crowd. Steve follows, but by the time he navigates through the partygoers, his roommate is nowhere to be found. He hurries back to their dorm, heart pounding in his ears, mouth dry.
It's dark in the room, though, and for a second he thinks Eddie isn't home, after all. But he turns on the light, illuminates the rigid lump under Eddie's quilt.
"Eddie?" Steve says, voice soft.
He doesn't respond, though Steve can tell he's awake. He tries again, but Eddie curls deeper under his covers.
Steve spends the night wondering what he did to hurt Eddie so bad.
---
They're back to normal after Thanksgiving. Steve is so relieved he doesn't even ask.
They stay up all night every night studying for finals. By the time Steve's last test rolls around, he's giddy and frantic. He grabs his textbook, shoves a notebook into his backpack, gets to the English building with just enough time to take a last look at his notes.
Only, he flips the notebook open and it's not his English notes. It's song lyrics.
Steve should close it. Put it back in his backpack. It's private. But he's already reading the lyrics written there. They're sexy. The song's about a guy, one Eddie seems to be totally gone for.
A line catches his eye, "need you on every surface in our room." He reads it again and again until the only thing he can see is the phrase, "our room." His whole body is warm, heat pooling, and he's chubbing up in his jeans in the middle of his English class.
Steve flips the pages, anything to get his mind off of that song, and that's when it hits him like a ton of bricks. All those weird moments--the t-shirt, the song, Steve flirting with a girl-- Eddie likes him.
Steve wants to rush to the dorm, wants to confess everything, even starts to stand, but--he has a final to take.
He makes himself close the notebook, but catches sight of another song as he does. It's a love song. It's plaintive and yearning and wanting. And every lyric is for him, about him, about things they did together. It's also unfinished, breaking off mid-way through the second verse.
He doesn't know how he missed it before, but as the professor hands out the test paper, Eddie is all he can think of.
---
When he finally gets back to the room, he finds Eddie's frantic, hair frizzed around his skull. All his bedding is on the floor, the drawers of his wardrobe pulled open.
"Eddie?" Steve asks.
"Have you seen my notebook?"
"What?" Steve's heart drops.
"The black one? It's kind of beaten up?"
"I--uh, yeah. Sorry, Eds. Accidentally grabbed it on my way to class." He pulls his backpack from his shoulder, unzipping it.
"Did you--did you read it?" Eddie's voice shakes, his face painfully red.
Steve doesn't know what to say, what to do. He wants Eddie. Has for a long time, just hadn't been able to put it together. And he doesn't know how to fix what's spiraling out between them.
"Eddie," he says. Can think of nothing else, hopes his desperation is clear in his voice. "Please." He closes the distance between them, slowly, carefully. Cups Eddie's chin in his hand.
They stare at each other, Eddie's eyes wide with shock. Steve can feel the other man's breath on his face, smell the tobacco and sweet musk scent of him.
"Every surface of our room, huh?" Steve asks.
Eddie's cheeks flush. He turns away, bashful. "Something like that."
"And if I want it too?" Steve whispers.
The words hang between them for several beats, before they both move to close the lingering distance between them. Their mouths slip together, like it's nothing, like they do this all the time. Steve grasps at Eddie's curls, fists a hand into his t-shirt, totally lost to the rhythm of the kiss, the easy slip of Eddie's tongue in his mouth.
Eventually, the come up for air, both pink cheeked and panting.
"You're full of surprises, Steve Harrington." Eddie breathes.
"Just wait," Steve smirks, moves in to nip at Eddie's bottom lip. "We have so many surfaces."
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