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#okay maybe that can be my one goal this year
andersonlore · 2 days
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Abbys reaction to you telling her how hot she is while making out: "you're so hot I can't stand it it drives me crazy." - maybe the first time or one of the first times
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all my love is free | abby anderson
tags: eighteen+, lesbians obsessed with each other, had to post during lesbian visibilty week like c'mon???, just a big bag of fluff packaged with light steam, abby being a nervous goofball, sfw with suggestive themes.
an. sorry i kind of disappeared with posts. new collab is taking over my brain. but wanted to at least post something. can't wait for y'all to get a taste. until then, i'll be finishing the requests in my inbox (hopefully). with all the love, ray.
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the end of your first date with abby marks a colossal milestone, especially for the two of you. the moment almost seemed monumental. taking one year of abby’s pining, six months of flirting and six months of tiptoeing while you were with someone else. respectfully, waiting until a month after the breakup, she asks you out.
unimaginable expectations abby had before going into tonight, but all she had to offer it seems was her nerves. god, she was acting like a dumb, mumbling, dork tonight. saying the first thought coming to mind, but it makes you laugh. when abby nearly eats it on the sidewalk, tripping over a crack of grout in the cement. your soft angelic voice taking her out for a moment, the only thing centering her from having a meltdown. 
“baby, are you alright? be careful, honey.” there it is, angelic. “wouldn’t want you to fall.” the first pet names hurled her way by you, making her heartbeat faster than she could keep up with. you cut her off at her knees, ensuring you are the only person she could ever want.
fuck, fuck, fuck.
it’s pretty obvious who was in control the entire night. if the two of you are friends, this night has a year of expectations, hopes, goals to meet and abby felt like she was failing. deeply.
as she walks you up to the front door, she knows the only thing she accomplished was letting you down. nothing went the way she thought it was going to. everything felt off. worst of all, your silence snuffs her out, completely.
you grab her hands, pulling her up the stairs with you. the collar feels too hot, tense, off. delicate fingers playing with the collar before you unclasp the buttons, keeping down before you move to her chest, placing your hand on abby’s inconsistent heartbeat.
“can i? s’tense, need you to loosen up for me. alright?” abby nods, accepting you can read her like the back of your hand. she just doesn’t want you to stop touching her. “get out of this head of yours. s’just me and you, no one else.” your nimble fingers pop the first three buttons, revealing her freckled chest, dipping into her sternum, giving you a delicious preview. she takes a deep breath, and you believe it’s the first one she’s allowed herself since she showed up with a bouquet of flowers in hand. 
“‘m sorry, i didn’t mean to ruin tonight. i just— it’s you. y’know? i’ve never wanted someone like this. been friends for ages and this is just everything. you are everything. i’ll never live with myself if i let you slip through my fingers.” her heartbeat calms under your touch the longer abby speaks, bringing a warmness to your own. “don’t worry about all of it. you’re not going to. i won’t let you.” 
“okay.” abby says as she gets lost in the light in your eyes. the fire visible behind yours. the way she’s looking at you? fuck. unimaginable desire — all for you. it almost seems too good to be true. like you don’t deserve it. waiting for the pin to drop, all the misery drowning you with it. “did you have a good time tonight?” 
“yes baby, i did.” you smirk as she inches forward, closing you into your front door. back pressed against it, her small breasts pressed to your chest, her free hand extended, next to your head as it lays flat on the door.
“s’good. wouldn’t want to kiss you if the date was bad.” all the confidence is back. the abby who flirted with you shamelessly for months on end. knowing you’re happy is enough for her. it’s all she needs to know to let the loser in her fall to ashes. but you taking the reins for a moment, does something so visceral inside her. she nearly doesn’t know how to act until her instincts kick in. 
she’ll satisfy you — just in the way she knows how. 
“what are y—” abby pressed her body weight into you, strong hips pinning you against the door using one of her hands to pin both of yours above your head. you’re whimpering, signaling your shock but the whine omitting from your lips tells abby your pussy is shocked. soaked.
“doing what i should have done months ago.” her pink plump lips meet yours, taking complete control over you. but you welcome it with open arms. she grunts in your mouth causing you to gasp as abby’s tongue enters your mouth. massaging it with yours in a swift battle for dominance. 
it’s too much but also not enough. you’re grinding against her, your crotch kissing hers as you lift a leg, wrapping it around her waist. she continues kissing you like her entire life depends on it. not letting you feel anything but her. she’ll be your everything and you’re not leaving until you understand it just as much as her. “abs—” you mumble in her mouth, abby relinquishes the tight grip on her hands.
immediately your hands are woven in her hair. tugging at the golden hair, as you try to pull her closer to you, if it was even possible. but the two of you have to come up for air, abby the first one to break as she chuckles at both of your heaving chests. 
“fuck, you’re so hot, baby. can’t stand it.” you peck her lips softly. admiring how puffy and swollen they look from her ministrations. god, you want her to devour you once again. “‘m, drives me crazy.” you admit, taking in the intoxicating smirk on her face. you’re not made into a fumbling mess easily. the both of you know it. that’s how abby knows it in her bones, she has you. fuck, she can’t ever imagine letting go. 
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drunkenskunk · 3 days
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Welcome to another Drunk Skunk™ rant!
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So.
I've had some time to sit and stew on the Fallout show, and I think I've finally figured out exactly what I want to say. Because kids? I got Opinions™ about this fucking series. I sincerely wish I didn't have all these Opinions™, because that would almost certainly cause me significantly less stress.
But here we are.
The Fallout show annoys me, but not for the reasons you think.
Let's get the good out of the way first. And by "good" I mean "damning with faint praise."
The Fallout show, as a piece of entertainment and experienced in a vacuum with no prior knowledge or context of the rest of the series or any of the other video games, is... fine. It's an entertaining television show. It's not great, but it's not terrible. It's okay.
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The best part of the show is, unquestionably, Walton Goggins. Which is probably the coldest take here, everyone agrees that he's fantastic in this. And it's true! Granted, he doesn't look nearly as gnarly as he should, as the makeup is really giving Ryan Reynolds Deadpool Hugo Weaving Red Skull vibes, but I can honestly give that a pass. He steals every single scene he's in. He has all the best lines. Plus, all the pre-war flashbacks with him are excellent. That first scene when the bombs drop is fucking harrowing.
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SPEAKING OF THE BOMBS!
The big reveal that Vault Tec were the ones to kickstart the apocalypse. My initial gut reaction to that was... Not Great. I didn't like it. In fact, I kinda hated it. I thought it was an answer to a question that nobody asked, because nobody cared, because it was never supposed to matter who shot first. The original point was that the end of the world was the inevitable outcome after so many years of war, so many years of stockpiling nuclear weapons, and so many bad decisions from everyone in positions of power on all sides of the conflict.
But the more I think about Vault Tec being the ones to destroy the world... I dunno, the more I... kinda like it? In a fashion. Sort of. As you can see by the remaining length of this fucking rant, I have Complicated Feelings about this!
See, Fallout has never exactly been subtle with its themes, but the show drops all pretense, and openly embraces a staunchly (and honestly, extremely surprising) anti-capitalist narrative.
The Fallout show pulls a Garth Marenghi unironically, and it honestly... kinda works?
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Vault Tec were the ones to drop the bombs because they wanted to recreate the world in their image of a capitalist "paradise" free of any and all government regulation. The inevitable end result of the "great game" of capitalism is the literal end of the world, and the capitalists will do everything they can to destroy any attempts to rebuild any civilization not explicitly under their direct control. Because that's what capitalists do: they pursue an ultimately self-destructive goal that is not, and never was, sustainable, and will destroy everything else in their pursuit of endless, infinite, exponential growth, forever. Nothing else matters except Make Number Line Go Up.
Side note: it is extremely funny to me that Bethesda - a hollow shell of greed and excess who have been releasing the same game with different wallpapers over and over again since Oblivion - and Amazon - which is fucking Amazon - bankrolled a show where the villains are greedy capitalists who explicitly destroyed the world because of fiduciary duty to the shareholders. Like... guys, you do realize you two are Vault Tec in this scenario, right?
Ah well. That's capitalist realism for ya.
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Anyway, the more I think about it, the more sense it makes that Vault Tec were the ones to drop the bombs.
HOWEVER.
Maybe this is just me being a cynical, drunken asshole here, but... it feels like this was a decision that was made, not because it was the best way to take the narrative, but instead as a means of enforcing the Status Quo of Bethesda Fallout.
See, the thing I liked about the west coast Fallout games was that it showed a world ravaged by the apocalypse, but it also showed that world beginning to heal. 200 years after The End, and civilization was returning. It was a natural evolution of things, emphasizing the post part of "post-apocalypse." It showed us a world that really sucked a lot of the time... but also gave us a small sliver of hope that, no matter what nightmares existed after The End, things could - and would - get better, so long as we put in the work to make it better. It was a world that showed us that nothing was ever so broken that it couldn't be repaired. We just had to fucking EARN that happy ending.
Bethesda Fallout, on the other hand, is just Wacky Wasteland Adventure Time. They are not interested in showing a world evolving or changing or growing, they just want a blasted hellscape that looks like it was freshly nuked yesterday. Why? Because that's the surface-level Aesthetic of Fallout. That is what is recognizable. And Aesthetic is all they know how to do. That's the mother fucking Brand.
Doing something different would risk changing the Brand, and if that kind of change happens, then it's no longer easily marketable. So they just keep with what's familiar: freshly irradiated hellscapes, caps as currency, makeshift weapons, psychotic raiders with no purpose or goals beyond Fuck You, and more of the fucking Brotherhood of Steel. It's all the stuff we remember, so we can point at the screen and go "I recognize that!" instead of allowing the setting to evolve and creating something new.
And that's what annoys me the most. Because even though Vault Tec destroying the world in 2077 makes a certain amount of sense, it also feels like it only exists as a means of artificially enforcing the status quo of the setting. Which means that nothing will ever matter in Fallout ever again. It doesn't matter what happens, or what changes in the future, or who wins the next ideological conflict between the same factions that keep reappearing over and over again like radroaches. Because whenever something strays too far from the established setting, Vault Tec (or, more accurately, Bethesda) is just going to nuke it again, like what happened to Shady Sands.
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And, y'know, Shady Sands getting nuked like that really does rankle. Not because I ever had any attachment to the NCR, but because destroying it in the way that they did just felt so fucking lazy. If they wanted to get rid of the NCR, there were easily half a dozen other things they could've done that would've made far more sense. The NCR was a fantastically corrupt government, making the same mistakes as the same governments that (up until the show) were responsible for destroying the world. California was running out of food and clean drinking water because of gross negligence and mismanagement, public unrest was high because of excessive taxation and the "stop tolls" of corrupt border guards shaking down people, and both the military and bureaucracy of the NCR was spread fucking paper-thin, due to their policies of violent imperialist expansionism trying to take far more territory than they could reasonably hold, far more quickly than they could ever manage.
And did any of that matter? No. Not at all. Pursuing any of those plot threads would've required the writers to actually come up with some new ideas. So, instead, it was destroyed because of a cryogenically frozen Vault Tec middle manager with family problems. It was such a fucking lazy solution to a problem that should never have existed in the first place. It felt like the Fallout equivalent of "Somehow, Palpatine has returned."
That's why this show annoys me so much. Because this show that exists without subtlety or subtext, is telling us, to our face:
Don't hope for a better future, because it will never come. The world of Fallout is a destroyed, irradiated hellscape, entirely devoid of hope, and it will never, ever change, ever again.
Because that's the Fallout Brand, and that's what fucking sells.
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sometimes i like to imagine a future where i write that (y/a or adult targeted) dragon book series i desperately want to, but i know that i wouldn't be able to do it without including art in the book. every time a new important character is introduced the next page would have to be a reference / art of them to Show What They Look Like
#i dont think id be able to handle like. publishing or whatever Without that#maybe that stems from my control issues maybe im just an artist at heart#but i would also need there to be a glossary and a detailed map and maybe footnotes or a basic bestiary-#but then sometimes i wonder if i'd want it to be like... a comic instead#manga style in a way??? i wouldnt color it. it'd be in b&w with only the occasional colored spread or somethin#but all of that If Possible or plausible is a very long way off which is okay its okay#ill get there ill get there#unless something changes and i want to do something Else but its been a goal for many years already#its only recently that ive buckled down on the worldbuilding and character crafting and genuinely considering the plot and themes#its a hot mess! but theres something in there! im determined to find it#its definitely a couple years yet of changing things and switchin stuff around and Thinking....#who knows if ill ever get there! i hope i will!#but yeah it'd be a book with a bunch of art shoved in it httyd style (kinda)#bc if im gonna Make something im gonna combine my favorite hobbies as best i can#absolutely unprompted#its an exciting but daunting prospect. writing an actual Thing#mostly the plot part of it#i can craft characters i can do worldbuilding#but the plot? oof#there's this other one ive been working on since 8th grade#and its still... barely anything lmao#its for my favorite personal characters - my very first real oc my special boy light of my life but Man.#plot has hands!!!#and then ofc there's my beloved idiot squad... i want to do something for them some day maybe....#so many ambitions so little energy... i will strive to make future me healthy enough to achieve Something we so desperately want!
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I kind of want to try making mead or ambrosia 👀
Obviously not right now because I have Shit To Do; but maybe during the summer after I’ve moved
#alcohol mention#Apparently you can make mead out of honey and I love honey so of course I have to try it#I want to make more food from scratch so I can reduce my plastic consumption#because my ten-year goal is to convert to a completely anticapitalist zero-waste lifestyle#Just for me… I don’t put pressure on anyone to do the same unless they’re well-off and being ridiculous about their consumption#Except for maybe encouraging people to switch to reusable water bottles if they’re in an area where the tap water is potable#(like where I live)#or flaunting my canvas shopping bag that I got for 5 dollars at a hardware store whenever possible#Okay I guess I do push people a little bit#But it’s all reasonable things directed at people I know are physically mentally and financially able to do those things#or I’ll just casually mention microplastics and pollution in conversation as a “fun fact”#But I’m not ridiculous about it with anyone but myself#I hold myself to some weird standards that I don’t hold others to and I’m fine with it#Obviously it’s the corporations’ faults that everything is the way it is and no single person can make a huge difference#But if everyone does one thing to help the planet; then it might buy us some time to change the system#There is also the issue of supply and demand; if more people reduce plastic intake then less plastic will be produced#But again: it’s very hard to be ethical in this society. EVERYTHING enjoyable is packaged in plastic and it sucks#(ok not literally everything but consider: most candy is wrapped in plastic and clothes have plastic tags and chips are in plastic#sushi is in plastic containers and meat is in shrink wrap or styrofoam and most modern chewing gum is a byproduct of vinyl#toys are packaged in plastic etc. etc.)
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Some recent pressed leaves and stuff to add to the collection :0
#LOV giant nasturtium leaves#and they press weirdly thin like when they dry out it's almost like a super super fragile sheet of tracing paper or something#I also just really enjoy collecting textures and patterns and stuff. like it's not really about them looking pretty but more just#something notable. like the cool dotted pattern or the stripey veiny looking one#I have so much I want to get done by the end of the year but have been so unproductive still lol ToT#I've had new costumes and like Actual Stuff To Post for probably 2 months now but they just sit in a folder and I forget about#them and like walk in circles talking to myself all day instead or something hhh#I think it's the classic cycle of like 'I am too stressed to be productive > the fact that i'm not being productive stresses me out > i am#even more stressed and no more productive > being unproductive stresses me out > so on and so forth forever' lol#or the 'I have so many goals in life and so much motivation and so many things I love and want to do > there are too many things to do#at once and it's overwhelming > do none of them instead'  cycle lol#I think my main focuses in the new year though are to finally finish the worldbuilding slideshow. Do more costumes. And do more sculptures#since I haven't done a lot of those in a while. And still work on my games and short stories and stuff that takes place in my worldbuilding#world but those are more difficult longterm tasks so I think they should be like. not the MAIN main focus or else I'll never feel like I do#anything. I think that was the problem for the past while is that the things I had delegated as my Main Focuses That Go Above All Else#are so long and difficult and tedious that you never feel like you're making progress so it's like you're ignoring all the other stuff you#could be doing in favor of a thing that feels like you're not doing anything thus you get a chronic feeling of never finishing anything ever#Whereas like. I can do a sculpture in a day or two. and I can do costumes in a day or less. Having a steadier flow of Small Things i can fee#l like I'm actually accomplishing will maybe help it not just be like 'okay I spent a whole day doing somehting and have nothing tangible to#show for it because it's just text in a word document that probably nothing will ever even come of because it will take me years to finish'#The biggest insurmountable task at the moment is the worldbuilding slideshow but I am chugging through.. slowly lol.. It takes me about#2 hours to read 25 slides (they're not bullet points it's like little paragraphs on each slide). and I have about 800 to go. so thats..#naur.. i shant even calculate it... plus editing one hour of vidoe usually takes about 2 hours so you double it. if I have that much recordi#ng of me reading slides to edit. then turning them all into a final video should take.... i cannot say. i shall not think of it#And I've just had a very stressful few weeks HOWEVER I just always like tp start the new year with stuff cleared like.. all of my messages I#haven't answered in 3+ weeks responded to. all of my emails to my doctors checked. house cleaned and organized. photos cleared and organized#off of the computer. everyting backed up in some sort of physical storage. clear out drafts. rewrite all of my main todo lists. decide prio#rities and yearly/monthly/weekly goals. consider the trajectory of my life and what I need to do. etc. etc. So I feel like I don't have any#time to waste and can't rest. yet.. alas.. It doesn't help that I feel sick out of nowehre like 50% of the time#I know some poeple can work/focus on tasks with body aches and etc. but my brain is just always like 'No. :)' .. grrrbb
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quitetheketch-moved · 2 years
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Hi, I'm Byron, and this is one of my cats, Little Girl.
We need assistance with a small vet bill, replacing my computer, and saving for living expenses.
Other places to help: Paypal | Venmo | Cashapp
Full context: Little Girl is a stray that was dropped off in my neighborhood a few months back, when she was still a kitten. I live in a rural area in the deep south and have no access to no-kill shelters. Finding her a new home in my area would have been difficult if not impossible. I took her in and now love her more than anything, but while I can feed her and my other, fixed cat with ease and take care of both of their immediate needs, I need help getting her spayed and vaccinated. The upfront cost is $250, more than I can save up for alone.
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This is my decade old desktop computer. It's well loved and has been limping along for the last five years, but earlier this year it started blue screening regularly. Video and audio drivers have been crashing, the USB ports are failing, the side panel will no longer stay on, and it has a host of other small problems that can no longer be ignored. I am disabled and chronically ill. I need to use a desktop for physical accessibility, as well as my safety and mental health; this computer is my lifeline to the outside world. It pains me to do this during the worst inflation we've seen in years, but it has to be replaced. I expect it to cost between 600 and 1800 dollars.
Lastly, sometime within the next 4-18 months I'll be able to move to a safer environment. Plans are still being finalized, but I have to leave my current residence no matter what. Because I am disabled I'm dependent on donations and what few Etsy sales I can make to feed myself and get my meds, half of which are for a heart condition and all of which are essential to my health and wellbeing. The high goal of this fundraiser should ensure I can pay for the things I need to do before I move, and help me continue to stay housed, medicated, and fed until then; if there is any money leftover by the move, it will go towards getting settled in my new home.
My parents died in 2020 and with them went the most important support network I had. While I don't need much to live each month, losing the 50-100 dollars I got from them has crippled me on top of the shock of mourning for them both so suddenly. The isolation of living where I do, being unable to safely be myself or even form social connections in my town, has been a great deal to bear. This move will save my life, but I desperately need help to make it.
I want to thank you for reading this far and helping me spread the word. I hope you have the best day you can.
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tchaikovskym · 1 year
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Every time I bond with someone, after some time I've seen all their flaws and I don't love them like I used to, and I feel a sense of alienation,
Even though they haven't done anything wrong, I just... grow tired of them
And that's why I don't think I'm capable of love. There hasn't been a person yet I've wanted to keep a strong bond with after a long period of time
#this is about my coworkers lol#and todays hike#like im a bit petty because they kept rushing and i kept saying that were going too fast bc of all the km ahead#and at first i tried to follow them but at one point i grew to tired and said fuck it#so i lagged behind at my own pace and they had to wait for me after they had gone ahead for a couple of times#and at one point they took a piss break and i was like nope. im going. youre going to catch up with me#and so they did#anyway never going hiking with coworkers again#we actually had another hike before which was cool and we went slowly but today idk. shit#at least quitting will be less hard now lol#also im so tired of them. they keep gossiping about everyone and i literally dont care#but also this post is about my past friendhips too. the girl with the falling out.#maybe there is one friend im cool with and will be cool with forever bc we meet like 2 times a year and dont bother each other with the#every day details of our lives.#so im not sure i could actually love anyone to the point id like to live with them for the rest of my life.#like thats the ideal fantasy goal but in reality i dont think i can handle people#anyway im still pissed about the hike. even with lunch in between we finished it in 6 hours instead of the 8-10hours stated in the guide#like why the fuck would you rush through a hike? its not a marathon and i have short legs aaaahhhhh#sorry but yall long since knew youre following erins life blog right okay love you
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astrxealis · 2 years
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actually i'll change them to look like this
#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚#okay just random rambles now :>#he goes by apollo !! unless i change it. bcs i have now associated myself w that name even more ORHEODHSK anyways they r uhm#okay so. he/she/they ?? he/they/he. i don't want to do they first bcs rhat's a bit too similar to me KDHSKDNS#i love that vieras can canonically be trans!! it is part of their lore!! i wna make this guy uhm. idk. ftm or mtf or nb masc or fem leaning#maybe i'll just make him like. bigender. OKAY THAT WORKS. idk what assigned at birth tho ... anyways i love them#he/she/they i think. prefers they as default from others but she defaults to he for himself <3#his hair originally was like . really light. like the one for my actual wol rn uhh rlly light purple#i didn't mean for it to be purple but it fits perfectly and i dont want to change it >< i changed it for this guy just now tho bcs he wld#be too similar LFHSKDJS they have little white freckles!!! theyre like stars :] hehe#idk if name apollo still sobs. thats the name of my other vv important ffxiv oc and that is also my other name#polaris wld probably be nice !! oh shit wait hyacinth for his counterpart. perfect. oh god#and then to my wols yeah that is apollo HOLY FUCK IM SO BIG BRAINWD. okay but his name uhhhh polaris mayhaps#i'll check my pronouny for other names i like :O#anyways this is my male viera alt!! he is min height ofc :> but still sm taller than me SOBS#he's kind of mischievous but also quiet . he's uh. i'm in love with my oc yes T_T#tag later#his hair reminds me of milk chocolate ... mixed w vanilla!! thsw was the hair color i used for fun actually back on my wol b4 i canonically#changed her hair to the vv light white-purple it is now :> uh. i still need to work on lore LMAO#my goal is to properly work and write on lore of my ocs b4 7.0 !! a few years :] <3#this also includes my fandomless ocs hehe ... maybe ill talk abt them more one day
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spyderverse · 1 year
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blah blah here are my current art goals for 2023 <3
focus more on character design/concept art
actually practice figure/gesture drawing
draft some short comic scripts
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byoldervine · 1 month
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How To (Realistically) Make A Habit Of Writing
To clarify: Works with my autism. WORKS WITH MY AUTISM!!! I’ve been meeting my goals since I made them my New Year’s resolution! Anyway I’m so sick of all those ‘how to’ guides that don’t actually tell you what the process is they’re just like ‘just do it, but don’t burn yourself out, do what’s best for you!’ because you’re not telling me what I’m not supposed to be burning myself out over but okay, so I made my own. Hope this helps
1. Choose your fighter metric. What works better for you as a measurement of your progress; time spent writing or your word count? Personally I get very motivated and encouraged by seeing my word count go up and making a note of where it should be when I’m done, so I measure by that. At the same time, a lot of people are also very discouraged by their word count and it can negatively impact their motivation to write, and in that case you may be better off working from how much time you spend writing rather than where the word count is
2. Choose your starter Pokémon time frame. How often can you write before it starts to feel like a chore or a burden rather than something fun you look forward to? Many people believe that they have to write daily, but for some people this can do more harm than good. Maybe every two or three days? Weekly? Figure out what fits your schedule and go with it
3. Choose your funny third joke goal. Now that you’ve got your chosen time frame to complete your goal in, what’s a reasonable goal to aim to complete within that time frame based on the metric you chose? If your metric is your word count, how much can you reasonably and consistently write within your chosen time frame? If your metric is time spent writing, how much time can you reasonably and consistently spend writing within that time? Maybe 1000 words per week works, or maybe 10 minutes per day? The goal here is to find something that works for you and your own schedule without burning you out
4. Trial and error. Experiment with your new target and adapt it accordingly. Most people can’t consistently write 1667 words per day like you do in NaNoWriMo, so we want to avoid that and aim somewhere more reasonable. If you feel like it’s too much to do in such a short time frame, either give yourself less to do or more time to do it in. If you find yourself begrudgingly writing so often that it constantly feels more like a chore than something fun, maybe consider adapting things. And if you think that you gave yourself too much wiggle room and you could do more than this consistently, give yourself more of a challenge. Everything needs to suit you and your pace and needs
5. Run your own race. Don’t feel like you’re not accomplishing enough in comparison to others or not working fast enough to satisfy some arbitrary feeling of doubt. Everybody works at their own pace and slower work doesn’t mean worse work. You could be on one word per day and you’ll still see consistent results, which is still one word per day more than you could originally count on. All progress is progress, regardless of its speed
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rootbeerworshiper · 13 days
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make it up
chris sturniolo x fem!reader
summery: your situationship gets in the way of your fun at a pool party, especially when it’s with a flirt who you leave no other choice but to make it up to you.
warnings: smut..don’t let the cute cover fool you lol, sub!chris, lowkey both him and the reader are toxic, fem!receiving, face sitting, missionary, unprotected sex, i think that’s all
a/n: this was a struggle to write and i think it took years off my life but that’s okay!!
4.2k words
love, sienna <3
it was practically impossible for you to focus on anything other than the way that Chris looked, standing there with his chest exposed and his swimsuit hugging him in ways that make you woozy. you aren’t official, so it takes everything within you to not go and let the world know he’s yours, but he is.
you and Chris both lack a sense of commitment to romantic relationships, it’s what makes your situation so much easier to navigate. there’s a level of trust within your dynamic because you both want the same thing out of it. there’s also spoken rule of not seeing anyone else, a rule you’ve both obliged to for the past few months.
a pool party isn’t necessarily something you were yearning for, but Chris insisted that you come along with him, and you weren’t one to say no to him very often.
the sun is beating down on the comically large backyard, your scalp feeling hot and a few sweat beads trickle down your neck as you pour yourself a drink at some pop up table.
this wasn’t entirely… your crowd, but you do have a few people you’re somewhat friends with which you are more than thankful for as you create small talk near the table.
Chris has put his focus on playing volleyball in the pool with a bunch of his random friends, his wet hair falling on his forehead before he runs his hand through it so he can see the net better.
you mindlessly talk to the people around you before very quickly growing bored with the effort-fuelled conversations about the weather and whatever new couple just broke up.
it feels a bit un natural to be standing around in two small pieces of fabric that are vibrant against your skin while being completely above water. so you set your random plastic cup down and walk towards the clear splashing water that’s surrounded by concrete walls.
you opt to sit along the edge, keeping a close eye on Chris who couldn’t help but notice your presence immediately.
maybe the reason you work so well with him is because you’ve known him for such a long amount of time. he was your lab partner in junior year chemistry and as annoying as you may have found him at first, he was funny, and it was his goal to be constantly putting a smile on your face.
it wasn’t long after until he was putting more than just a smile on your face—and god was he addicting.
you let your feet sway in the slightly cold water while you rely on your wrists to keep you upright, in full view of the blazing sun.
if you weren’t going to be having a blast the least you could do is create a few tan lines.
the boy across from you tries his best to stay focused on the game, but he can’t help but pay attention to the incredibly flattering swimsuit that rests on your body as your skin glistens in the heat. your thighs squished together on the cement outline of the pool with small droplets of water dripping down them has him insanely distracted to say the least.
“cmon Chris focus up!” a plea can be heard from some random guy who stands next to him, furthest from you but still very aware as to where Chris’ head is at.
everywhere but the game.
he shakes his head, leaving you a small, playful smirk before looking back to the poorly set up net towards his eager opponents.
you watch for a while, eyes fixated on the way his tongue darts out of his mouth to coat his lips. his full focus on the same is weirdly attractive.
his back muscles are outlined perfectly in the sun. you want nothing more than to have your hands scratching helplessly over them with your nails.
soon enough the ‘game’ comes to a close, bringing your head back to reality.
Chris swims over, situating himself between your legs and placing his cold wet hands on the base of your knees. “hi” he looks up at you, blue irises highlighted in the immersive light pouring down on him.
you laugh slightly, wrapping your bare legs around his smooth back. “hi pretty boy did you win?”
“were you not watching?” he inquires, wiping stray water droplets off of his freckled face. he leans in slightly closer as if he’s telling you a secret. “definitely lost but they’re too drunk and they fully believe that i won so i’ll let them believe what they want”
another small laugh escapes your lips when the mentions of the sport remind you of a memory. “do you remember third period gym class when i accidentally served a volleyball directly at your face?”
he rolls his eyes playfully in response, a bead of water dripping down the side of his neck. “course i do, you apologized for like a week straight”
“not my fault you were walking around the halls with a black eye! i felt bad” you defend yourself passionately.
“well it actually was your fault but” Chris just schooches you slightly closer to him. hands pulling you in by your lower back so that your plush thighs make contact with his sides. “it was cute when you felt all bad and shit”
you wrap your arms around the back of his neck, fingers delicately running through the hair sprawled on the back of his head. “how much longer do we have to stay?”
“you act like a pool party is a chore” he laughs softly. “give it another half hour and then we can get ready to leave”
before you can say anything in reply you hear a familiar voice call out your name. “hey come over here! we’re shotgunning right now”
you don’t entirely want to go, your time would be much better spent with the boy in between your legs but he’s not your boyfriend, and it would feel wrong to cancel on people wanting to do something with you for him. even if just looking at his face is more than enough to keep you occupied. “i guess this is my sign to go socialize”
he fake frowns dramatically, slowly guiding his fingers up your legs until they make contact with your upper thighs. “okay lover boy i have to get up” you mutter out, fighting every urge to close the space and bring his lips to yours.
most people know you have something with Chris, they just aren’t entirely sure what. the two of you flirt constantly and tend to stick by each others sides at gatherings but usually pda is off the table for your own sanity.
today you were just a lot more needy for any form of contact with him, and you can’t be bothered at this very moment to hide from the world.
it is however annoying to constantly be answering questions about you relationship status. most of the time it’s easier to have them completely oblivious rather than curious.
so you stand up, gently taking his hands off of you before placing your feet on the cement and walking over to the girls who are standing in a patch of grass with drinks in hand—not without feeling Chris’ eyes glued to your back.
“hey you ready?” a girl asks, dark brown braids draping over her back as she hands you a colourful can.
“yeah i am, someone have a coin for me?” you ask, reaching over for the random girl that hands you the circular copper coin.
the group does a countdown and after the number one you immediately crack open the can and tilt your head back, allowing the fruity liquid to stream down your throat.
after a moment of relentlessly swallowing, you release the tin from you lips and crush it while wiping the drink off your lips.
a girl beside you practically spills her drink everywhere and you laugh with her momentarily, enjoying the small moment. this is before something catches your eye.
Chris at the back of the pool with a girl standing uncomfortably close beside him. it’s obvious to everyone around him that her intentions are anything but innocent.
people flirt with Chris all the time, he’s hot. but the way she’s practically straddling him in the chlorine water and the fact that he’s done nothing to deny her advances? you’re sick.
“hey isn’t that your boyfriend?” a random girl across from you asks, going to the table to grab a slice of water melon and handing one to you. assumingely feeling bad for you.
you shake your head, taking a bite of the flavour fruit before replying. “not… technically. but he knows better than to pull some shit like that in front of me”
she laughs softly, rubbing your arm sympathetically. all you can do is hope it’s not pity.
“what’s your name again?” you ask, trying to distract yourself from the heart wrenching sight across the still water that fills the pool. Chris hand now on the girls lower back as she talks to him about god knows what.
“maria” she replies, reaching for a bottle of sunscreen from her tote bag that rests on a random pool lounger. “and you?”
your name lingers on the tip of your tongue as you refocus your gaze onto your man who’s sitting there with a smug smirk on his face. he’s clearly amused at the girl who puts in full effort to get him interested in him.
“y/n” a fake smile forms on your face before you begin to walk towards the pool. “please excuse me while i go deal with that fucking idiot” you spit out, earning a gentle laugh in reply.
“you’re too hot to let a man like that walk over you” she adds as your back now faces her.
it’s clearly bothering you and you can’t sit back and do nothing anymore. someone clearly needs to learn a lesson.
your feet walk before your mind can even fully comprehend what’s happening. it’s un deniable that you’re in a hurry to get Chris the fuck out of that pool and your body language speaks for itself.
he sees you walking over, detaching his hands from the girl who know holds a clueless expression on her pretty little face.
“hate to break up your fun but we’re going, Chris” you mutter out, looking down at the pair as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
the girl immediately gives you a nasty look in return. “i’m sorry who are you?”
you roll your eyes, Chris now walking towards the pool ladder as you continue the petty conversation. “i’m his girlfriend”
she laughs. “really? because he told me you guys are just friends. might wanna sort that out before you get all possessive over someone who doesn’t feel the same”
there’s no point of explaining yourself to this random girl who is in full belief that she’s in the right. besides, you’re more mad at him than you are at her.
————————————————————————
“do you beg for your other friends like this?” you question, finger placing light pressure over the familiar patterned swim shorts. you’re standing over him, knees brushing against the mattressinserting your complete control in the dynamic.
it’s slightly later now. a golden hue shooting its vibrant light through the bedroom window as a helpless boy lays below you, propped up by his elbows so as to still look up at you.
he breaths out, shutting his eyes closed as if to somehow focus on anything other than the pads of your fingers and the touches they’re applying to him. “fuck no”
you let out a soft, menacing laugh at his innocence. it really is admirable how effortlessly you’re able to get him like this, his hips squirming restlessly against the soft blankets that rest below him.
as much as you’d love to be completely angry with him, it’s much more enjoyable to be petty. and besides, he’s got lots to make up for.
you hover over him, your hands placed next to his hips while your head dips down to his exposed neck. there’s remnants of marks you’ve left behind recently, something that girl from the pool consciously chose to look past. “you like it when i mark you up?” you whisper into his ear, chills immediately trickling down his spine while blood rushes to his growing length.
he just nods pathetically. there really is no point in arguing with you, he knows you’re right. it’s hilarious how he portrays himself to the world, like he’s some big tough guy who gets all the girls. last time you checked tough guys aren’t whimpering pet names in your ear while you tease them, maybe you’re wrong.
you take your time. getting lost in placing small kisses along his jaw, making a point to leave behind a noise with each one. it’s obvious he’s trying to hold back, it’s not easy for him to be like this but he knows he cums the best under your touch.
“who the fuck do you think you are pulling that shit in front of me? do you know how embarrassing that is?” you spit out, hands placed on your knees as they try desperately to relieve the tension that formed in your arms.
he just rolls his eyes, hands gripping the steering wheel while a stupid smug smirk pulls at his pink lips. “it’s getting really old when you do this shit. you only act like you’re in love with me when you’re jealous”
“in love with you? wow that’s rich. maybe i just didn’t wanna watch you suck face with some random girl in a musty ass pool” you argue. deep down he’s probably right in what he’s saying. you aren’t very good at showing emotions towards him until he shows interest in anyone that’s not you.
“please” he whines as your mouth creates suction on his collarbone, notably leaving more marks to add to his scattered collection.
his words are in vast contrast to those he was spewing on the car ride home, much less bratty.
you smile into his chest, hands running up his sides only causing more squirms in response. “please what? cmon be a good boy and use your words for me”
the way his chest rises and falls at his neediness already has you feeling the need to close your own thighs together. you need friction more than anything and your body is begging you for it.
“just touch me please, i need it” his voice practically shakes through the words. regardless of how annoyed you are with him, you immediately do as he says, palming through the thin damp fabric.
“so worked up for me already Chris, you like when im on top of you like this don’t you?” you coo into his ear as your hand moves menacingly across his length. he’s already completely hard under your touch and the combination of your words almost makes it painful how badly he wants you. “but i’m not sure you deserve to cum after the shit you pulled earlier”
his hips buck up slightly as the palm of your hands lifts from his sensitivity. “mmh how- how can i make it up to you?”
you hum, as if deep in thought. in reality you already know exactly how you want this to go, he just needs to be the unsuspecting pawn in your evil game of chess. “i don’t know…. im pretty mad at you baby”
“i’ll do anything, please i need you”
his consistent begging is like music to your ears and the last thing you want to do is press pause. your mind wanders when you think about all the things he could provide you in order to make up for his foolish mistake.
his hands.., his thighs—you even consider giving in right away and allowing him to have sex with you right here and now. but it wouldn’t be as fun to give him what he wants right away, and his toxic little mouth should really get put to better use.
you speak low, only furthering the anticipation for what he needs most right now. “i think you need to be shut up. that mouth of yours is mine yeah?” you run your finger over his lip, pulling his bottom lip down lightly until he replies to your question with another eager nod.
your lips meet with his, your tongue immediately attaining dominance within his mouth before you bite down gently on his bottom lip, eliciting a soft moan from the boy.
the strings of your bathing suit are the only thing holding you back from the pleasure you’re aching for. “Chris baby can you help me?” you bring his fingers to your hips so as to guide him to where you need help.
he gets to work right away, untying the strings and immediately causing the bathing suit to slip off of your body to leave you exposed in his line of sight. “you’re so beautiful” his voice leaves behind an innocent compliment.
your lips turn into a smile at his praise as you pick of the wet fabric that lies beneath you, tossing it to the floor that resides besides the bed. “thank you” your fingers trail up his bare chest as your legs straddle him. you make point of sitting down just slightly on his dick, enough to make him wanting more but not enough to provide him any real pleasure.
slowly, you shift higher up his body until you’re aligned with his pretty face that looks up at you with eyes fuelled with worship. “you gonna make me feel good?
he nods again, hands lifting from the sheets to your thighs to pull you onto him before you can get another word in. it’s clear how desperate he is to make you feel good and it only makes you want him more.
Chris places a few teasing kisses above where you want him, having his fun with taking his time before you sit down on him.
it begins slow, his tongue licking a stripe through your folds before focusing on your clit. he’s sure to make sure your weight is fully on him, the pressure of his pink muscle pressed against you is intoxicating.
eventually your hips begin to rock sensually on his mouth while his lips create a suction on your throbbing clit, only proving to build the pleasure you’re experiencing below.
“mmm such a good boy for me Chris. you always know how to make me feel so good” your praise only causes him to increase his speed, giving you exactly what you want. “i’m the only one that gets this- fuck. no other girls can have your tongue the way i do”
you can’t help but fuel your own ego at your situation with Chris, proudly expressing how grateful you are for him while placing subtle jabs at anyone who tries to interfere.
the pace increases. soft moans leaving your lips while his hands squeeze your ass into him, only increasing the pressure of his tongue more.
you’ve quickly forgotten about earlier. your thoughts flooded with the the sensation of his soft lips on you as his tongue inserts itself into you, curling upward.
you fall forward, your upper body becoming weak at the overwhelming speed of his tongue switching from curling into your wetness to sucking on your puffy clit.
a loud sigh escapes your lips as his fingers rub small circles on your lower back, his mouth doing all the work. it’s impossible to stay still, and his tongue makes your body move in a rhythm against his face. hips grinding hungrily into him as you approach your high.
“so good fuck, i’m close baby” you moan out, and you can almost feel his lips curl into a smile under you at how easily it was for him to make you unfold, but he quickly resumes his rhythm on your clit, desperate to give you what you need.
your stomach tenses as your orgasam overtakes you, thighs squeezing his brunette curls that rest between your legs, his tongue working you through your first orgasam.
eventually his mouth slows before you pull yourself off of his face. the sight below could almost make you cum again, his flushed cheeks and messy hair along with the wetness dripping from the corner of his mouth.
god you really do love having him like this.
you swing our leg off of Chris, laying on the bed horizontally next to him. a puzzled expression replaces his hopeful one, he’s not entirely sure what you’re getting at by laying next to him.
you speak after another moment of confusion passes by. “what’s taking you so long? thought you wanted to cum?”
he sits up practically right away, moving his body to hover over yours. you can tell he’s not entirely sure this is what you’re asking but you quickly confirm his suspicions with a short kiss, your hands immediately reaching for the waistband of his shorts. “i need to feel you”
it’s like a lightbulb goes off in his head and he’s immediately more excited than he is confused, hands dropping down to assist you with pulling down the damp bathing suit that keeps him from you.
the sight before your eyes is mouth watering but you can’t give in, still attempting to remain dominant. his dick is clearly exhausted from waiting so long, remnants of pre cum dripping down the veins that surround it.
“make it up to me Chris, i don’t wanna be mad at you after this” you demand, his hands finding your knees to spread your legs open, your centre still leaking slightly from earlier acting as a perfect lubricant for him.
“yes ma’mm” he spits into his hands before spreading the warm saliva over himself, stroking a few times before aligning himself with your entrance.
it begins slow, he always allows you to adjust to his size momentarily, just sinking into you and starting off with lazy, sensual thrusts. his face is aligned with yours, the plush pink colour on his cheeks showing just how badly he needs this—how badly he needs you.
“you fill me up so well baby fuck” you moan out, his pace inside of you increasing slightly as his tip has no problem brushing over your sweet spot.
he leans in, leaving a few wet kisses to your bare neck before whispering in your ear. “i’ve been so bad, let me make it all better”
before you can mutter out some form of a reply his hands travel to your thighs, lifting your legs so that your knees are aligned with your head. this new position only makes the feelings of his thrusts feel deeper.
he quickens his pace, hips moving in a rhythm that causes nothing but small whimpers and moans to leave your lips.
a smile tugs at his lips at your current state, your tits bouncing in the thin bathing suit fabric and your mouth in an o shape at the constant pleasure he’s inflicting onto you.
the strength of his hands on your thighs only further help push himself into you, hitting your g-spot relentlessly. Chris knows you well enough to know when you’re close, your eyebrows furrowing and your walls closing in on him, so he takes that as a sign to bring one hand down in between you.
the pads of his fingers find comfort on your sensitive clit, rubbing light circles as the pace of his hips hasn’t let up once. “fuck Chris you’re so good” you moan out, hands gripping onto the sheets beneath you.
he leans in to your ear again, voice slightly shaky as he avoids the urge to moan. “do you forgive me?” his hand moves quicker against your clit, practically begging you for a simple ‘yes’.
“mmh i-“ you throw your head back, orgasam approaching quickly.
“i need you to say it pretty girl”
the new sense of confidence behind his voice only further turns you on, your orgasam hitting you like a brick before you can even prepare yourself. “yes! mm i forgive you Chris”
at your words he continues slamming his hips into you, using your release as leverage to come to his own high that he’s been holding back for awhile.
suddenly he pulls out, giving his dick a few pathetic pumps as he releases onto your bare stomach, head thrown back and eyes shut in pleasure.
he practically plops in bed beside you, the two of you completely exhausted from the day and the events that transpired moments prior. “i’m so sorry, fuck i was stupid” he groans out, bringing his hand to his forehead to rub at his skin.
“it’s okay, we’re both kind of idiots sometimes” you giggle, placing a small kiss on his cheek before sitting up. “we really need to shower now though, we stink of chlorine”
a/n: hope you enjoyed lol i’m gonna take a break from writing on my page for a while due to burn out and such but i will still be contributing to collabs
if u haven’t read @greatooglymooglyyy or @luv4kozume fics today go do that now those are some of my fav ppl and writers on this app and they deserve all the love!!
taglist:
@lolasnoww-blog @tastesousweet @ivypoison @disturbedwoodelf @sturnswift @junnniiieee07 @ellie-luvsfics @sturnified @madsdogst @justlivinglive @sluttycupsworld @flowerxbunnie @mbsbaby @sturniolossmut @lustfulslxt @69isabella69 @dracoflaco @mattslatinagf @raekensluver @worldlxvlys @greatooglymooglyyy @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss @imwetforyourmom @sturniolololover @immuneweed @its-jennarose @taco-taco-posts @luverboychris @gracealwaysdisgrace @gamermattsgf @mattscoquette @nervoussagittarius
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misshoneyimhome · 4 months
Note
If you’re willing to write for jack Hughes, maybe something like he & the reader are friends & he finds out that she’s never “finished” (like she’s not a virgin, but she just never finished while having sex), and so he wants to help her out?
Maybe you can add like him liking her before this already, but it doesn’t matter :)
Alrighty bb! I'm so sorry it took so long for me to write this, but it's my first time writing about Jack Hughes, so it took a bit longer than usual 😉 Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy it 🤍 Happy New Year to all Jack H. lovers out there 🥂
[So, apparently, I find it a bit difficult to write about slow sex 🙈]
Warnings; smut 18+; fingering; protected sex (p in v);
Word count; 3.2K
[bestfriend!Jack x reader]
・✶ 。゚
Tumblr media Tumblr media
What's your name? (what's your name?) Who's your daddy? (who's your daddy?) Is he rich, is he rich like me? Has he taken any time To show, to show you what you need to live?
Time of the season - Zombie
**
"Have you decided on a movie?" Jack called from the kitchen while wrapping up the popcorn.
"Yeah, all set here," you hollered back. "Just waiting on the snacks."
"Okay, I'm here now," Jack hurried over with a chuckle as you were already settled on the sofa, patiently waiting for him.
It was a typical evening spent with your good friend Jack Hughes, a bit of a tradition whenever he returned from a road trip with the New Jersey Devils.
This pattern started off a few months back when Jack had first texted you on his way home, feeling a bit down after some games resulting in losses on the road. And realising how much it affected him, you spent the next day brainstorming ways to cheer him up.
That's when the idea of a movie night came about. The goal was to find a classic, light-hearted comedy that could take Jack's mind off things. And it seemed to do the trick.
And ever since that night, after every road trip, you and Jack would meet up (no matter wins or loses), watch a movie, and then spend the night chatting about pretty much anything and everything.
If he wanted to talk about the trip, you'd talk about that. Or if he needed a diversion from hockey, then that's exactly what you'd provide.
That's just how your friendship worked - calm, laid-back, and straightforward.
With Jack, you felt like there wasn't much you couldn't discuss. Well, perhaps there were a few personal matters you'd never broached with your close friend. However, it never seemed to be an issue. 
Though, on this particular evening, during the movie, your phone lit up with a text from your girlfriend, sparking a somewhat sensitive topic to your conversation.
"I swear! This guy is the one 😱 five orgasms tonight babe - I think I’m in love!!"
A smile crept onto your face as you read the message.
It was from one of your best friends, out on a date with a new Tinder match, which was somewhat a weekly ritual for her, yet this time it seemed she'd finally met someone who could meet her rather demanding needs.
"What's so funny?" Jack asked, noticing your smile and focused attention on your phone.
"Oh, it's nothing," you casually responded.
"Come on, tell me - it's clearly something amusing," your friend prodded, as his curiosity piqued.
"It's just Mel, she's on another date," you said, flashing a soft smile as you showed Jack the message, causing his eyes to widen a bit.
"Wow, sounds like she's having quite a night," Jack chuckled lightly.
"Yeah, I suppose," you shrugged, darting your eyes between the movie playing on the TV and your phone, trying to evade Jack's gaze and the topic a bit. However, Jack seemed intent on delving further into the matter.
"Well, I mean, five orgasms in one go, that's quite something," he chuckled lightly. "Depends on the person, of course."
But you found yourself biting your lip, feeling a bit out of your depth with the subject.
"I, um... I guess..." you mumbled nervously. "I mean, I... I wouldn't really know," you softly admitted, staring at your phone in your hand.
"What?" Jack chuckled. "What do you mean you wouldn't know?"
His expression shifted to one a bit puzzled as you quietly revealed your personal secret.
"Well... I haven't exactly ‘finished’... ever."
A brief silence fell between you, the only sound being the TV's credits playing in the background.
"You haven't... had an orgasm? Ever?" Jack asked, genuinely surprised by your sudden confession.
"Well... I mean, kind of - at least I think I have, by myself... but I've just never reached that... climax point with someone else," you slowly exhaled as your eyes met Jack's, giving him a nervous glance.
"Are you serious, y/n?" The hockey player stared at you, utterly baffled, prompting you to gently nod in confirmation.
Jack couldn't help but feel a pang in his heart. How could that be the case?
"It's not as if I haven't had good sex before, Jack," you attempted to explain, trying to ease the tension that had softly developed. "I just haven't... you know, reached that point..."
"But yeah, that’s like the best part! I just don’t get it... Hasn't any guy ever taken his time to make sure you had the complete experience? To give you that satisfaction?" 
Your confession seemed to strike a chord with your friend, and though you weren't entirely certain why, it did provide a slight sense of reassurance.
For a while, you'd felt as though something might be wrong with you. Maybe you just couldn't reach climax during sex with someone else. However, Jack's reaction made you reconsider that notion. In a positive light.
"I suppose not..." you spoke gently, locking eyes with him. "There hasn't always been the time, you know... And every time, it seemed they were just aiming to please themselves."
But Jack wasn't willing to accept that. It didn't seem fair to you that you hadn't experienced the true pleasure of sex, if your partners hadn't taken the time to ensure your pleasure was as important as theirs.
And he could feel his mind racing as he pondered how to address this newfound information.
If Jack had to be completely honest, you weren’t just a good friend to him. You held a special place in his heart that went beyond mere friendship, even though there had never been anything romantic or sexual between you.
Truth be told, he had a little crush on you. 
Over time, he found you to be someone remarkable. You showed genuine care and support for him, whether it was on the side-line of games or a shoulder to lean on outside the hockey world. And you never asked for anything in return.
You didn’t boast to everyone about your friendship with an NHL hockey player or flaunt your closeness to his family. And your lack of interest in his fame and money was one of the many reasons why he admired you so much.
So, sitting there beside you, realising that you had been missing out on something so wonderful, made him consider whether perhaps he could be the one to introduce you to the pleasures of a fulfilling sexual experience.
However, he hesitated to voice his thoughts, unsure of how you might react. Yet, before he could gather his courage, you interrupted his train of thought.
"Are you okay, Jackie?"
"Yeah, I'm just thinking..."
"About?"
"Nothing... well, not exactly nothing..."
"You can tell me?"
Running his fingers through his hair, Jack took a moment to choose his words carefully, hoping not to alarm you. Then, he tenderly brushed the smooth skin on your cheek as his gaze fixated on your lips.
"I want to show..." he breathed softly, licking his lips almost seductively. "I want to show you just how amazing it can be..."
You were slightly taken aback. Did your best friend just propose that the two of you should have sex?
Yet, Jack's deep eyes revealed no falsehood. He seemed almost dead serious as his gaze met yours again, and you had to remind yourself to breathe.
Jack was without a doubt attractive. And maybe even more than just attractive. Truth be told, you understood precisely why so many girls were constantly swooning over him. He had an incredible charm. His laughter and smile could light up any room, and his hockey-built physique only added to his appeal.
But you'd never considered that he might be attracted to you. You were simply a long-time family friend he could turn to for comfort.
However, in that very moment, it seemed you might have a chance at being something a bit more.
"What?" you asked in disbelief. "I mean, what?"
And Jack gently nodded, his fingers tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
"Y/n, it pains me to think you've never experienced just how good sex can be, so yeah, I'd love to be the one to show you..."
In truth, there wasn't much to contemplate. Though he was your best friend, you didn’t want to overthink why he was expressing a desire to have sex with you. Perhaps it was simply because he felt bad that no one had ever made you feel that way. Nonetheless, it wasn't something you'd turn down.
So, with a gentle nod and a soft smile, you gave him your consent.
However, as he tenderly guided you to his bedroom and began to place delicate kisses on your neck while slowly undressing you, Jack felt the need for more reassurance. He wanted to be absolutely certain that you were completely comfortable with taking this step in your friendship.
"You're sure you want this?"
"Yes, Jack," you whispered softly, your palms delicately finding their way to his chest. 
And with a soft nod, his large hands then smoothly slid under the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and revealing your bra to your best friend for the first time. It was an intimate moment, the closest Jack had ever been to you, his soft lips touching yours, while witnessing you in this vulnerable state. It felt incredible.
The atmosphere was serene and gentle as Jack dimmed the lights in his spacious bedroom, aiming to create the most relaxed setting for you. He even put on some soothing tunes in the background, something that always helped him unwind before a tense match.
An as you were left in just your underwear, Jack gently guided you to lie down on the bed. Though he knew you weren't entirely inexperienced nor a virgin, he wanted to ensure that both of you took the time necessary. Moreover, he had to manage his own excitement. This was about your needs, so he needed to ensure he wouldn’t reach climax too quickly.
Your eyes held a profound gaze as he slowly undressed himself to his boxers and joined you on the bed, his larger body hovering over yours before tenderly placing a soft kiss on your lips.
Your fingers instinctively found his semi-long locks, pulling him a bit closer, eager to deepen the kiss. But Jack pulled back slightly, reminding himself to maintain focus and take things slowly.
"Easy there... we have plenty of time," he whispered softly, redirecting his attention to your neck instead. He kissed, sucked, and nibbled gently on your sensitive skin, allowing you to relax into the comfortable sensations.
A wave of pleasure swept over you as Jack took his time to ease your nerves, allowing you to immerse yourself in the delightful feelings. Soft sighs mingled with light moans escaped your lips as his hand massaged your breast, teasing your nipple through the thin fabric before travelling down to your lacy panties. With gentle strokes, he caressed your warmth, while withdrawing his lips from your skin to observe your exquisite face, reflecting hints of pleasure under his touch.
Locking eyes with him, as his touch grew more intense, you desired more than just gentle caresses.
"Jack..." you breathed out. "Touch me, more."
And your wish was his command. 
His fingers slid under your bottoms, gliding through your folds before carefully finding your clit. Being mindful of his rough hockey fingers, he was careful as he circled your sensitive bud, causing more moans to escape your lips.
It was a sight to behold for Jack. Watching your eyes shut tightly, your expressions contorting in pleasure, as he increased his touch, he found it incredibly hot. 
"Is it good, baby?" Jack whispered softly; his voice tinged with seduction.
"Yes... Yes, Jack, it's so good," you managed to voice, overwhelmed by the pleasure his fingers were providing, surpassing anything you'd experienced alone.
Under his touch, it felt incredibly wonderful. Jack's fingers worked their magic, and while most guys might have grown impatient by now, he was still taking the time needed to bring you to that peak of pleasure. He was focused on leading you to that blissful climax, feeling a rush of desire as he watched you succumb to the overwhelming sensation.
Then as he felt your body both relaxed and tense with pleasure, Jack adjusted his position slightly. Although there was a fleeting disappointment as his fingers withdrew from your sensitive spot, it didn't last long, as he swiftly removed your panties and positioned himself on his knees between your legs. Then, his left thumb found your sensitive nub again, igniting that pleasurable sensation once more. You had to let your head sink back into the pillow, feeling an unfamiliar but incredible sensation building in your lower abdomen - a feeling beyond description.
Your hands gripped the pillow tightly on each side of your head, eyes closed, as gasps and moans escaped you.
And while observing your reaction, Jack sensed you were approaching that unfamiliar peak you longed for, so with his right hand, he gently found your entrance, teasingly poking with a finger.
"Still feeling good?"
"Yes," you panted. "Yes, Jack... Please," you almost felt embarrassed by your plea, but you were completely under his spell.
And the pleasure only intensified as Jack carefully inserted two digits into your tight core, stretching your walls, guiding you towards an unparalleled level of ecstasy.
"Jack... Fuck," you moaned louder as he withdrew his fingers only to push them back in, establishing a gentle rhythm alongside his circling thumb, delivering multiple waves of stimulation.
"Yeah, that's good, baby, just relax," he encouraged softly.
It was more than good - it was overwhelming. You had never experienced the sensation in your abdomen evolve into something so intense. It seemed to expand, flooding every vein with pleasure as the promise of an orgasm slowly took hold, clouding your mind.
And Jack felt your body's reaction to his touch, the walls of your core contracting around his fingers as you neared your long-awaited climax. So, adjusting his angle, he gently curled his fingers upwards, seeking that particularly sensitive spot. And as you let out a loud moan and arched your back, he knew he'd found it.
So, he persisted, hitting that spot repeatedly.
Your mind, body, and soul felt as though they were being torn apart in a rush of ecstasy, as Jack increased his speed, overstimulating you, and causing your juices to coat his fingers.
"Shit! Jack, I think I'm gonna..." you gasped, the sensations almost overwhelming you.
"That's it, baby, come for me! Let go and show me how good I'm making you feel."
And so, you did.
With a loud, deep moan originating from the depths of your abdomen, you surrendered yourself entirely, slipping into a euphoric state as the orgasm surged through your body, rendering your mind hazy and grey.
"Fuck," you cried out as Jack's movements gradually slowed down, and you had to take a few moments to regain control of your breath, slowly coming down from the intense high, as he withdrew his fingers.
Jack couldn't help but smile, thoroughly enjoying the sight beneath him. It almost felt to scoring an overtime goal as he observed how profoundly he could pleasure you, while you opened your eyes, locking gazes with him.
"Was it good?" he asked, a mischievous grin playing on his lips, although he already knew the answer.
"Well, can't really say no to that, can I?" you chuckled lightly, summoning the strength to prop yourself up on your elbows. "It was fucking amazing, Jack... thank you."
"No need to thank me... I just wanted to make sure you had the best experience," he replied, flashing you a charming smile that could easily sweep any girl off her feet.
"Well, I must admit, you really did," you returned his smile. "But what about you?"
Your eyes couldn't help but drift to the bulge that had unmistakably formed in his boxers, feeling an urge to reciprocate the pleasure somehow.
However, Jack simply let out a soft chuckle before leaning in, hovering over you, and planting a gentle kiss on your lips.
"We don't have to do anything about that right now..."
"Why not?" you looked at him, slightly perplexed. "Jack, I want you to feel good too."
"Are you sure ab—"
"Yes, Jack..." you interrupted, leaning towards him once more, this time deepening the kiss, conveying how much you desired him.
Pulling back slightly, he nodded. "Okay... just give me a moment."
With that, Jack rose from his position, undressing until he stood completely naked, unveiling his eagerly throbbing member. You couldn't help but gasp at the sight. It was long, hard, and slightly curved at the tip, yet perfect in its own right. It complemented Jack's physique, and you felt an intense sudden need to feel it inside you.
And fortunately, there wasn't much of a wait. 
Jack swiftly opened the condom packet from his bedside table, put it on, and smoothly went for the missionary position. He then positioned the tip of his cock at your entrance, before carefully pushing in.
Your hand quickly found its way to his hair again as he kissed you passionately, steadily rocking his hips back and forth, causing pleasurable sensations as he slid in and out of you. 
Whether it was Jack's perfectly shaped and fitted member or the intense orgasm from his earlier touch, you couldn't tell, but before long, you felt that new familiar sensation building up once more. 
And Jack found himself unable to hold back much longer. 
While it had been thrilling for him to witness your pleasure, he was now eager for his own release. 
And as you both sank into the mattress again, his hips meeting yours in a rhythmic pace, he felt himself nearing his climax. 
Your tightening walls spurred him on, and as he lost control, increasing his speed and force, your harmonising moans and heavy breaths filled the room. He was just about to reach the peak as you moaned loudly.
"Fuck Jack, I'm about to come again," you exclaimed.
His rhythm hit you just right, and you couldn't ignore the trembling in your legs as the high took over, succumbing to your second orgasm of the night.
"Yes, come with me���"
And after a few more thrusts, Jack reached his climax, releasing into the latex as both of you let out deep moans, riding the waves of pleasure.
"Shit..." you gasped, a tear trickling down your cheek, overwhelmed by the intense sensation.
"Yeah..." Jack agreed, breathing into the crook of your neck, as he carefully withdrew and settled beside you, pulling you close for a sweaty cuddle, his arm wrapping under your neck, and he turned his head to meet your gaze. 
"Are you alright?"
You couldn’t help but let out a light chuckle. 
"Yes, Jack, I'm more than alright... that was incredible," you smiled at the hockey player.
"You have no idea how happy that makes me... y/n, you deserved to experience that pleasure," he took your hand and tenderly kissed it.
"Thank you, Jack, you really made me feel amazing..."
With wide smiles on both your faces, Jack then headed to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. And returning with a damp cloth for you to freshen up, he then followed by tucking you in for a cuddle. This was important to him, a crucial part of the whole experience, especially because you were his best friend, and he wanted you to know this wasn't just a casual fuck.
He showed genuine care, and you felt more than content and satisfied in his embrace.
1K notes · View notes
toruro · 1 year
Text
— ✧ exes and oh's
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pairing. choi seungcheol x reader
description. when your ex-best friend breaks up with your other ex-best friend, you’re stuck between keeping this door (that you never wanted closed) shut tight, and making amends. naturally, choosing to let your heart open to the person who ripped it apart isn’t the easiest of decisions, but then again, life has a funny way of making you choose.
tags. smut (18+), UNEDITED (i wrote this mostly when i was half asleep, there will be missing words), angst, oral (f receiving), petnames, past toxic relationships/ friendships, referenced cheating, alcohol consumption (+ mentions of vomiting + poor decisions abt alcohol in general), rebuilding relationships, trust issues, joshua is extremely protective it's honestly a little annoying, a disgusting amount of internal monologue i am So sorry, theres a lot in this one so if i missed anything lmk
fic playlist.
w/c. 15.8k+
a/n. 1K SPECIAL SORRY IT'S A LITTLE LATE...anyways i really tried to make sure this wasn't super corny but i prob got carried away i can't even tell anymore. update. this is cringe as hell
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Your day today is slow, like every other. You aren’t sure why you expect anything different—well maybe you do know. It’s the optimist in you, a small voice in your head says, as you drop down your bookbag next to Joshua’s chair, the two of you slipping into your seats. Optimism my ass, you shoot back at yourself.
“Can you cover my shift?” Joshua asks, turning to you on his chair. You two have just finished your econ lecture and are sitting in the library to catch up on notes.
Furrowing your eyebrows, you give him a wary look. “Joshua,” you whine, pulling out your notebook and pen down.
“C’mon you said you needed some extra cash, and I need the night off anyways. I’ll get you back with something,” he promises as you narrow your eyes.
“Now what do you have that makes you need the night off?”
“Well there’s this party—” he pauses when you huff.
“And what’s to say I wouldn’t like to go to this party?” you retort, slightly annoyed that he expects you to cover his shift over something like this.
Joshua signs, running a hand through his hair. “Well I can say that I don’t think you would be especially keen on going,” he tells you honestly, and then when you catch the look in his eyes you falter.
You think about probing further, but second guess yourself—you probably shouldn’t. It isn’t good for your heart. You are trying to work on putting yourself, your heart, first, but as they say, curiosity killed the cat. “Why do you say that?” you ask, and Joshua gives you that look.
He knows where this is going, and he’s slightly disappointed in you for going against your personal goal of not bringing it up. Then again, he doesn’t control you, and while he can try to guide you down the path of reparations and healing, he can’t force you anywhere.
“Cheol’s birthday is tomorrow,” he tells you like you don’t know. Like you don’t still have it marked down in bright blue sharpie on your calendar. It’s only been six months since you’ve last talked to him, and you don’t feel the need to buy a whole new calendar for the sake of getting rid of his and Yejin’s name.
That, and you don’t think taking his name off would help you forget anyways. Ten years, you think to yourself, ten years shouldn’t be disposed of as easily as a calendar, although it seems Yejin and Cheol had no problem doing just that.
Joshua catches you zoning out. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“No it’s okay,” you sigh, leaning back in your chair. “It’s not like I didn’t know, I don’t know why I asked.” Joshua looks at you sadly.
“The party…it’s going to be a big one, since Soonyoung is throwing it. You can come if you really want, you probably won’t run into Seungcheol anyways,” Joshua offers.
You scrunch up your face, shaking your head. “And Yejin? Either way, I don’t want to even think about how it would look if I showed up to a party for his birthday.”
Joshua gives you a wear look. “You don’t know?”
“Huh? Know what?”
“Cheol and Yejin broke up a while ago.”
“Oh.” You blink once, then twice, staring down at your shoes before inhaling sharply.
“I’m sorry. I thought you knew.”
You shrug, responding, “Whatever. Don’t apologize. I don’t have any business with either of them anyways.”
“Okay but—”
“Seriously Josh,” you mutter, turning to him so he can see the pleading look on your face. “Let’s talk about something else, yeah? I’ll cover your shift.” Joshua gives you a tentative look, opening his mouth before you stop him. “Seriously,” you repeat, “It’s fine.”
And the truth is, you are fine. Sure it hurts when you think about them too much, and even if they are broken up, it doesn’t really make you feel much better, but you are okay. Your days are often dull, yes, but you aren’t unhappy. You’re content, and being in your final year of university, you figure that being content is all you need.
Excitement and love are not quite at the forefront of your mind, and while it does cause a nasty knot to build up in your throat when you think about Cheol and Yejin and all the fun times you have spent with them, you quietly tell yourself that things just played out the way they were supposed to.
You tell yourself that if it didn’t work out, it wasn’t meant to work out. That your life had plans, and that those plans didn’t include them.
As you walk home, you scoff to yourself, thinking about how Cheol and Yejin were willing to give up ten years of friendship with you—with each other—for something that didn’t even last half a year.
Of course it’s painful, but at the end of the day, you’re okay with that.
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“You’re pathetic,” Yejin spits out, and you feel yourself growing dizzy. Her animosity that’s more apparent than ever is all you can think about it, and it has your jaw going slack. “How could you—” her face contorts into something so full of hate that you brace yourself for her next words, “How could you do this to me?”
You still, blinking as you let the words sink in. You want to argue, to fight back, to defend yourself, but the words fall flat on your tongue. You want to scream, I didn’t do anything to you, want to tell her that your feelings aren’t there to hurt her, but you can’t. “Yejin—”
“It doesn’t even matter now,” she cuts you off, sucking in a sharp breath, her face that was momentarily scrunched up into anger is now relaxing, looking back at the door where music booms from the party.
“Are you just going to leave?” you manage to ask, steading your breaths as best as you can. Yejin looks at you and from the way she’s slightly taller than you, you nearly cower back in anticipation for her next words.
Yejin always did tend to have a bit of a mean streak, but only towards those she felt had wronged her—never to you. Always had a snarky comment to throw, but never in your direction. Always ready to be on the offense if she felt she needed to, and for the first time in your ten years of friendship, you know what it’s like to be on the receiving end.
Yejin never answers your question. “Cheol likes me,” she tells you as if it isn’t obvious. As if you haven’t mulled over that fact for the past month, the tell-tale lips of Joshua spilling you Seungcheol’s secrets many nights before. “He doesn’t like you.” Yejin pauses. “Because you’re boring.”
Your world stills. Everything was spinning in a hazy maze a moment ago but now it all has paused and her words are hitting you in slow motion. “What?” you try to ask but your voice comes out hardly above a whisper.
Yejin scoffs, and you know in this moment that that is the meanest thing she could have done. “You’re boring,” she repeats, “and that’s why—” she takes a deep breath, “—even if he didn’t like me, he wouldn’t like you, so I’m telling you now to give up.”
You gulp, and the words spill out of your mouth before you can stop. “I was never going to make a move on him,” you retort, finally finding the words stuck in your throat, and while you gain confidence for a moment, it withers away when you catch the amused look on Yejin’s face. “I can’t believe you would think I’d go for him if you liked him.”
“That’s your problem!” Yejin exclaims exasperatedly. “You were going to do nothing even if none of us found out,” she spits out, and you feel your knees growing wobbly again as Yejin continues. “You claim you love him but you’re just willing to give him up like that? That’s pathetic. You are pathetic.”
She turns on her heel, and you call out to her one last time. “Are you—”
“Get Joshua to drive you home,” is the last thing she ever says to you.
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Taking Joshua’s shift is boring. Not that you expect anything different—getting you excited for work is not one of your optimism’s capabilities. Evenings at the coffee shop are busier than one would expect, but after considering the fact that it’s the only one open past seven p.m. on campus, the crowd begins to make sense.
You spend your time making drinks for the many students who are—much like yourself—simply trying to get through the night, but you would be lying if you say you don’t notice that the turn out is a little…smaller. After all, it is a Friday evening and Soonyoung’s parties are infamous on campus for being…well for being thrown by Soonyoung.
He’ll invite anyone and everyone, so you wouldn’t be surprised if your instagram feed will be filled with nothing but pictures from Cheol’s party tonight. Not that you care. You don’t want to go, you have no reason to.
Still, you wonder: would Yejin show up? If they did break up, like Joshua told you, what were the circumstances? Are they still friends? What happened? Why did they—
No.You shouldn’t do this to yourself, you can’t. Yejin isn’t your friend anymore, and neither is Cheol. What happened between them shouldn’t be your business—it isn’t. Leave it alone, you tell yourself, tapping your foot on the ground.
Yet, every time you look over the empty seats that fill the cafe, you’re reminded of just why not many people are here tonight. Seungcheol. Chewing on your bottom lip, you go against your better judgment and pull out your phone, immediately tapping on instagram.
Your stories are filled with a plethora of videos and pictures from the house that Cheol shares with Jeonghan and some other friends. It’s dark both inside and out, the only thing illuminating the house being led lights and pool lights in the backyard.Fondly, you remember last summer and Cheol’s birthday, which was spent at his house with you. Yejin, and some other friends in his pool from morning ‘til night. Fun times, you think, and you quietly wonder if Cheol will remember those memories today, or if he will leave them in his dust.
Tapping through the stories, you purse your lips together, inhale sharply, and begin to make yourself a drink. It’s too late in the evening for you to be thinking about this.
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Seungcheol’s head is pounding. He can hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears and then there’s the music that has its vibrations going straight to his heart as he stumbles over his own words.
Lights everywhere flashing different colors and he isn’t sure when one cup turns into two, which turns into three, which turns into fuck-knows-how-many until Jeonghan is grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pushing him into an empty room, calling Joshua over.
Again, Seungcheol’s head is pounding. And he fucking loves it.
Joshua and Jeonghan, on the other hand, are frustrated. Cheol is trying to push through them, clawing for the door as his legs hit each other in a mangled mess until he’s falling onto them as they hold him back.
“You guys can’t fucking do this,” he whines, throwing his head back as he brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.
“When you said you were going to go crazy tonight,” Joshua mutters, “I didn’t realize you meant literally. Are fucking insane?” he hisses.
Cheol gives him an angry look, seeming to sober up for a moment as he straightens his back. “It’s my birthday, giving me a fucking break.”
“If you keep acting like this it’s going to be your death day soon too,” Jeonghan warns, earning him a glare.
“Seriously, do you want alcohol poisoning or something?�� Joshua agrees. “Don’t drink anything else for the night, I’m serious.”
“And if I do?” Seungcheol challenges.
“We’ll tell Soonyoung to call it all off. You know he’ll do it if we ask,” Jeonghan states simply.
Cheol scoffs, but doesn’t reply, exercising his last bit of common sense to understand what Jeonghan and Joshua say, they mean. He needs to tread lightly.
Not that he cares much. He hasn’t got much to lose—Cheol only suggested this party because he knew that if it was anything short of big, he’d be reminded of the missing holes in his life right now.
His plan was unsuccessful, clearly, because even with cups after cups of spike punch, he’s still mulling over the fact there’s over a hundred people in this house and not a single one of them is you. Cheol had asked Joshua to bring it up with you—asked him to lead you in the right direction. The right direction being him.
He wasn’t really sure what his expectations were when he suggested it, but now it’s clear that Cheol really was expecting you to show up. He didn’t prepare for any other outcome, especially not one like this, where he’s wasted before the clock even strikes twelve. He’s on the verge of passing out when Joshua leaves the room, only Jeonghan and Cheol in each other’s presence as the former makes sure his elder doesn’t collapse.
Seungcheol’s head is pounding and he thinks it feels fucking great.
Fuck, he really needs to throw up.
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You’re back at the cafe two days later, once again spending your evening serving students. It’s a bit of a lighter day, so only you and Jeongyeon are working, catching up and making light conversation through the day.
“Tired?” you ask her, when you catch her leaning against the counter with a wince.
She nods, turning up to look at you. “Chemistry is killing me. I want to cry just thinking about my next exam,” whe groans, throwing her head back. “I think humans have evolved too much. There’s no reason we should have explore this much about like, fucking atoms. Why can’t we just be happy creatures—ignorance is bliss, after all.”
You laugh out loud, not bothering to look at the door when you hear the bell of its opening ringing. “Take a break, yeah? I’ll manage for the next half an hour, if you just wanna sit and chill for a bit,” you offer, Jeongyeon letting out a sigh of relief.
“Are you serious?” she exclaims before hugging you tightly. “I fucking love you,” she says, pulling away and hopping down the back counter and to the back room while you smile widely before turning around to face the new customer at the counter.
Your smile drops faster than you can blink.
Seungcheol’s smile, at one time, was among one of your favorite sights on the whole damn planet. Now, you can’t help but turn away, too scared to look him in the eye. Scared that if you look long enough, you’ll find something you aren’t ready to see.
Don’t falter, you tell yourself. You haven’t been healing for months for it to amount to nothing. “What can I get you?” you ask casually, looking down at the cashier tablet, pretending to look through the catalog.
You didn’t look at him long enough to see if his smile vanished just as quickly as yours, to see if he expected you, to know what he was thinking at all honestly. You aren’t ready for that, and it’s pathetic, you think to yourself.
“Uh,” is the first thing you hear Cheol say to you after six months. You aren’t sure what you’re expecting him to follow with, but it is most definitely not, “Don’t you know my usual?”
It takes all your self control to not snap your eyes up and say, of course I know your usual, I never forgot, how could I forget, it’s always an iced latte with—“No, sorry, I don’t,” you say flatly, still not looking at him.
Cheol is slightly surprised by your choice of words, partly because when Joshua told him that your door was shut and not going to budge open, he didn’t really believe him. Maybe he knew he wouldn’t be able to hit it straight off the bat when he tried to reconcile, but he definitely wasn’t expecting this.
Not that he planned this—he knew you worked here, just not when. Cheol was just struck with luck when he walked in, ready to order a coffee when his eyes landed on your familiar figure this evening, and as an opportunist, he just couldn’t turn down the chance to try and talk to you.
Of course now, he isn’t sure if this course of action was the right one—you were never cold, not to him, not to Yejin, not to anyone really. It’s weird, he thinks.
“Iced latte with hazelnut syrup, please,” he replies with a small nod of acceptance. Joshua was right. Your door was locked.
“Your drink will come out over there,” you say, pointing over to the left counter. “Cash or card?”
He thinks it’s worth a shot to try again. “When was the last time I used anything but card?” Cheol accepts defeat when you don’t crack a smile, not even one bit.
“So you’re using card?” you ask plainly, turning the tablet over so he can swipe down. Cheol chuckles nervously as he pulls out his wallet. He doesn’t say anything after that, and for that, you are grateful.
Once he’s done paying, you turn on your heel quickly and make his drink. You don’t look up, don’t turn back—you don’t know if you’re ready to see him watching you, if he is at all. You aren’t sure what you’d like more: having him watching you, or having him not.
Gulping down a hard lump in your throat as you wait to pull the shot of espresso, you think deeply. It’s just how Jeongyeon said it, you figure: ignorance is bliss.
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Jeongyeon thinks parties aren’t your thing. “They just don’t suit you,” she explains when you’re working one afternoon.
You furrow your eyebrows. “What do you mean not my thing?”
She shrugs, carrying in some boxes of cups. “It’s not a bad thing—I’m not calling you boring or anything—I’m just saying. You’re a very work-at-a-coffee-shop kind of girl, and not a let’s-go-party kind of girl, you know?”
The word bounces around in your mind. Boring.
“I can be both,” you huff. “You’re only saying this because I actually do work at a coffee shop.”
“Whatever,” Jeongyeon shrugs. “Come with me tonight then?”
You scrunch up your face. “Tonight? I work tonight,” you tell her with a frown.
“Get Hyunwoo to cover your shift then, I’m sure he’ll do it,” she suggests. You sigh, pulling out your phone to text your other co-worker.
“Okay, but if he says no it isn’t my fault.”
“Ya-da, ya-da, ya-da,” Jeongyeon mutters, waving her hand at you with a sly grin. “So I’ll see you tonight?” he asks with an eyebrow raised.
“If Hyunwoo is willing to give up his Saturday evening, I guess so.”
“Ugh, he better agree. Tell him if he does it, I’ll set him up on a date with Nayeon.”
You roll your eyes with a small giggle. “You need to stop using her to get what you want—she’s going to stop being your friend if you keep setting her up on dates so people can do you favors.”
“If that ends up happening…” Jeongyeon’s voice trails off as she glances at you. “…well that’s what you’re here for!”
It’s how you end up putting on some cute pants and black crop top that you’ve been saving for a night just like. Jeongyeon and you are ubering the way to whoever’s house this party is at, and you’re pretty sure neither of you have a good idea of how you’re supposed to get home, but that’s a problem for another time.
When you arrive, the house is already packed, but the two of you don’t have too much trouble slipping through the open door and into the crowd of people that fill each room. You haven’t been to a party in a while, and the loud music along with the rush you naturally feel when you're around so many people starts to return to you.
You see many faces—mostly ones you recognize, but the names fall flat on your tongue. Like you said, it’s been a while since you’ve come to a party.
When you make your way to the kitchen, you’re greeted by a kind, familiar voice. Smiling at Joshua as he calls out your name, you give him a sideways hug before you make your way to the counter with all the drinks. “Fancy seeing you here,” he teases, and you push him lightly. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“Jeongyeon invited me last minute…I had to get Hyunwoo to take my shift,” you explain.
“Ah, that makes sense,” and there’s a funny look on his face when he says it.
“What’s with that face?”
“Nothing! It’s just…”
“Just what?”
“You know Hyunwoo likes you, right?” Joshua says casually, pouring you a cup of punch. Usually, you don’t trust what other people hand to you, but Joshua is a safe exception.
“What?” you ask, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets. “You’re lying. Did he tell you that?”
“Not directly…but it’s obvious. Seriously, who gives up their Saturday evening unless they’re making major bank or they have a crush.”
“Whatever. He’s a sophomore,” you murmur, taking a sip of the drink. It’s so sweet it almost masks the taste of alcohol. “Plus, he’s not my type. And I’m not interested in dating. I have too much going on,” you list.
“Please,” Joshua scoffs. “Your thesis and being a barista is not too much.”
“Shut up! I’m here, at a party, aren’t I?”
“Will you come to the next one?”
“That depends.”
“On?” he asks hopefully.
“Hm,” you hum, tapping a finger on your chin. “When, where, who, why, how.”
“Ugh, you’re seriously annoying about this. Just show up when I call you next, okay?”
“No promises. This night better be good if you want me to live up to that.”
“Well I’m not throwing this party so I can’t control that.”
You grin. “Too bad.” You’re having fun, you realize, even if it’s with the comfort of Joshua. You’re glad Jeongyeon brought you here. Joshua glances around for a moment and then back at you, opening his mouth to speak. “Don’t worry about me,” you tell him before he can say anything, “I can take care of myself.”
“I know, I just—” he stops himself. You know where this is going, and Joshua knows he doesn’t really need to say it. Cheol is here.
“It’s okay,” you tell him, patting his shoulder firmly, and in this moment you aren’t lying. Not to yourself, not to Joshua. It is okay. You are okay.
He watches you for a moment and then nods, ruffling your hair for a moment before waving goodbye to head off in some other room. You spend the next few minutes tossing your now empty cup to the side, heading off to some other room to find Jeongyeon. She’s dancing with some friends and the moment her eyes lay on you, she notices the deep flush to your face.
Calling you over, you dance with Jeongyeon, music blaring in your ear as you’re pressed up against her and other girls you’re sure you knew the names of at some point in your life. It’s exhilarating for a moment, but then suddenly, after around fifteen minutes, it isn’t.
“I’m going to head out for a breather,” you tell Jeongyeon loudly over the music, and she doesn’t seem to hear your words but with the way you’re pointing at the back door, she figures out what you’re saying. Nodding with a thumbs up, she smiles before turning back to dance along with her friends as you slip out of the huddle of people.
You notice a familiar face from the corner of your vision, but you feel too hot and the air is too stuffy for you to bear another second longer, escaping to the backyard.
It’s quiet outside. The night air is cool, and you now realize why no one is out in the pool like they usually are. Looking down at your feet, you contemplate your next actions for a moment before rolling up the hem of your pants until your knees and sitting by the edge of the pool, dipping in your legs.
You hiss at the cool feeling for a moment, but quickly adjust—you’ve been feeling too hot all evening and this is exactly what you need to take a moment to calm down. Alcohol has never quite been your best friend, the liquid always sending a flush of heat through your whole body.
The water soothes you, and you feel at peace for a moment. Then there’s the sound of the door sliding open and a familiar patter of footsteps thuds against the concrete.
“Isn’t the water cold?” Jeonghan says casually, standing next to you.
You shrug. “I needed to cool down.”
“Hm, fair,” he murmurs, sitting down himself and crossing his legs on the concrete edge of the pool. “It’s been a minute.”
“Has it?” you reply quietly. Yeah. It’s only been six months. You don’t let Jeonghan know that you’ve been counting.
“You don’t stop by to drop off the old pastries anymore,” he says. “Mingyu tries to make croissants now, but it’s the one thing he isn’t great at baking.”
You aren’t sure if it’s the alcohol speaking but you’re blunt when you respond, “That sucks.” Jeonghan laughs quietly, nodding. He isn’t used to you being like this —when Cheol said you were different, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t really this.
“How’s school? You working on your thesis and shit?”
You shrug. “I guess. Busy times.”
“You’re being awfully cold,” Jeonghan says with a tick of his tongue. “D’you not have any drinks—you’re always more fun when you’re drunk.”
“Thanks,” you mutter with furrowed eyebrows. Yejin used to tell you that.
“Sorry, that was rude,” Jeonghan says quickly when he notices how you still. “I didn’t mean it like that—I mean, I guess everyone is more fun when they’re drunk.” You chuckle a little at that and he lets out a sigh of relief at the fact that he’s able to get you to loosen up, even just a little. There’s an awkward silence that settles over the two of you as he watches you as you kick your feet in the water. Jeonghan thinks he might take his chances.“He misses you.”
You feel tears well up in your eyes, and you really hope Jeonghan doesn’t notice. You hate how you know who he’s talking about right away, not needing to say the name. “Jeonghan,” you say, and you know that your wobbly voice gives it all away, “Do you really think that’s fair?”
He says your name, and you turn away.
“Do you think that’s fair to me?” Jeonghan doesn’t say anything, so you continue. “He misses me? What about me? What about how I feel? Has Cheol thought about that? Has he?”
“I’m not trying to say it’s fair, I’m just telling you how he’s feeling—”
“Okay? There isn’t much for me to do about it,” you reply quickly. “Cheol and Yejin—” you let out a humorless laugh, “—it isn’t fair. Life isn’t fair. I was able to deal with it. I’m sure Cheol can too.”
“He’s really upset with himself for it,” Jeonghan tries to reason. “Even when he was with Yejin. They’d have arguments about it.”
“Okay? It’s not like I asked him to do that. It’s not like he was my friend to tell me about it.”
“Well if you would just listen—”
“No, you listen,” you say firmly, scrunching up your eyebrows. “Did you know what Yejin said to me the last time we spoke?” Jeonghan shakes his head. “She told me I was boring,” you spit out, and you realize that it’s the first time you’ve ever actually recounted that night to anyone but yourself. “And that she wasn’t even mad that I liked Cheol, but that she hated how I let her have him.” You pause to wipe away some tears. “And she was right. I didn’t put myself first. I could have told Cheol first, could’ve worked things out before she found out, could’ve done something for him, but I didn’t, and I’m not going to make that same mistake again so right now I am going to put myself first.”
Jeonghan is frowning now at the intake of all this information. It’s his first time hearing your side of the story, and he can’t help but get confused with the different timeline’s he’s got going on inside of his head. “Is this really putting yourself first?” he finally asks, and you glare at him.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m just saying. He was your best friend for a whole decade. Maybe having him back in your life will do more good than you think.”
You scoff. “You mean do Cheol more good to his life. Don’t look at me like that—what do you know about me that makes you so sure of this?”
“Cheol knows you, you know him, and as far as I know, you could use a friend or two.”
“Thanks for calling me friendless,” you say dryly. “But in case you haven’t noticed, I’m fine. I am over it, and I don’t mind having two less friends. And either way, Cheol couldn’t have been that good of a friend if he was willing to just let go of me like that after all those years.” Jeonghan stays silent. “I don’t need more drama in my life anyways,” you conclude, pulling your feet out of the water and standing up.
“You’re not going to give him a second chance?”
You don’t answer as you walk away.
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Choi Seungcheol isn’t drunk, for once in his life. Okay that is an exaggeration, but it’s the first time in a few months that he isn’t stumbling over himself at a party. It’s the first time in a long while that he hasn’t even had a sip of alcohol at this outing, and honestly, he’s quite proud of himself.
He knows why that is, and he isn’t afraid to admit it. When Joshua walks past him and gives him a funny look, Cheol knows what’s up. “No drinks?” Joshua asks, quirking up a brow.
“Joshua,” he murmurs, and he’s surprised his friend can even hear him over the music. “Jeonghan is talking to her.”
Joshua purses his lips. “Yeah, I know.”
Choi Seungcheol is quiet at a party, for the first time in…well pretty much ever. He isn’t under the influence, but it feels like everything is racing through his mind at a hundred miles per hour. Leaning against the wall, Joshua softens his gaze.
“Loosen up,” he says, and then thinks again. “And please don’t do anything stupid.”
“I’m not drunk,” Cheol scoffs, standing up straight as he glances out the back door, watching you kick the pool water. He remembers his birthday party over a year ago—the pool, you, Yejin, fun. Cheol walks away, not sure where he’s heading and Joshua, using his better judgment, doesn’t follow.
Choi Seungcheol isn’t drunk, but he might as well be out of his damn mind.
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Tonight is not your night.
Your head is pounding. You fucking hate it. You don’t like getting drunk, at least not like this. Not in the way that you’re seeing two of everything. Not in the way that your body feels like it’s on fire, sweat soaking your sheen black shirt. Not in the way that you’re thinking about everything you shouldn’t.
After your conversation with Jeonghan, you realize you don’t have an answer. Pandora’s box is too tempting, and all your better judgment tells you to leave this door closed. To bury it up, throw it into the ocean, burn it—anything to keep it away from you, but the alcohol that courses through your veins brings the memories flooding back.
Now, you aren’t sure if your head hurts from thinking about Cheol, or from the alcohol, or both.
It’s too much.
You lean against one of the steps as you sit on the stairs, clutching a bottle of water close to your chest. Jeongyeon is…she’s fuck knows where. You lost track of her hours ago—after you came back in from the backyard, you got lost in conversations with people you haven’t caught up with in ages, and one thing led to the next and now you’re on nth drink.
You feel dizzy and the cup in your hand without the water bottle slips past your fingers and before you can act quick enough, the cup is tumbling down the two steps in front of you and spilling all over the floor. Granted, it isn’t the only mess made in this house tonight, and by the looks of it, it won’t be the last, but you still feel bad, quickly scrambling up to pick up your cup and find some tissues.
As you lean forward and stumble over the steps a little, you realize your center of gravity is off and you’re about to fall forward, quickly holding out your hands to brace your fall. As you land on the ground with a thud, your mind spins—everything spins, you feel too warm, and then you feel your drink stain your pants in the spot you fell onto and—fuck, this really is too much for you.
Maybe you should’ve just accepted what Jeongyeon said. Maybe—fuck, who are you kidding—parties definitely don’t suit you. You’d be a fool to deny that now, especially when you’re aching to just leave already, even though you never made any plans of getting home.
That problem that you saved to deal with “at a later time” is becoming a problem you need to deal with now and you race through your options, all while seated on the floor, forgetting about how you need to clean up this mess.
It’s when your head starts to hurt and you scrunch up your face in hopes to soothe your headache when you hear his voice. A warm hand wrapped around your wrist and then it’s pulling you up and onto your wobbly legs. “Let’s get you out of here,” Cheol mumbles, and without weighing the consequences of your actions, you nod along.
You don’t care anymore. You need to leave, and if Cheol is the path to getting out, you won’t mind.
When his arms lead you out the front door and into the night, you feel cold. Extremely cold. Maybe it’s because your body is so warm, maybe it’s because the wet alcohol on your pants is sending shivers up your spine—maybe it’s that you’re starting to slowly realize who you’re with.
Standing on the grass, you aren’t sure what to do now. What should you do? What does Cheol want you to do—you stop yourself. It shouldn’t matter what he wants you to do, you remind yourself, so why do you find your gaze lazily making its way over to his face?
Fuck ignorance and its bliss. Right now, you want to know what Cheol is thinking. He’s looking down at you, and suddenly you feel small. His face isn’t demeaning, it’s not angry, he’s not upset, but you just feel so pathetic.
And god, do you hate that word. It echoes in your head. Your dirtied pants, flushed and puffy cheeks, disheveled hair, all as you struggle to stand up—pathetic. You turn away from him, not being able to watch him watch you any longer.
“Let me drive you home,” he says finally over the thick air.
“You’re drunk,” you protest mindlessly—you don’t have a clue if that’s true at all, but knowing Cheol, it probably is.
“I haven’t had anything all night.” Nevermind, you tell yourself, maybe you don’t know him at all. Can six months really change a person that much?
Cheol is thinking the same thing about you. Your eyes are glossy and you look so out of it and he can’t even remember the last time he saw you like this—the only memories he has are when you first got drunk with him and Yejin in high school. The memory shoots an arrow at his heart, but he brushes off the feeling, focusing on you right now.
“Trust me,” he says. You blink a few times, staring at the ground, then at the sky, and then at Cheol. “Trust me,” he repeats, and now you remember just how well you know him. Cheol isn’t asking right now, no, he’s begging. You think as deeply as your wasted mind will let you.
Do you trust Cheol? No.
Cheol hurt you. Yejin hurt you.
Is this about Yejin? No.
Do you trust Cheol? No.
What is this about? I don’t know.
Do you trust Cheol? I don’t know.
Can you trust Cheol? …
He places a hand on your shoulder and the touch is firm.
Can you trust Cheol? Of course you can.
His eyes are soft as you look up at him.
Do you trust Cheol? Absolutely.
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Optimism would say that you left the door unlocked. Joshua would disagree and say that you weren’t going to be inside even if the door was wide open. Jeonghan, surprisingly, doesn’t agree with Joshua—your words were harsh, but the water streaming down your cheeks told him that there was more going on in your head than you let on.
Seungcheol tends to only listen to what he wants to hear, at least that’s what all his friends have noticed. They saw it with Yejin—ignoring all the red flags, late nights of arguing until Cheol would murmur, “it’s fine, let’s just go to sleep.” Reality wasn’t the easiest for him to face, and now it’s more apparent than ever.
“He’s too optimistic about her,” Joshua sighs, throwing himself onto his friend’s couch the morning after. He slept over at his friends’ place, and they follow carefully behind him now.
“He still has hope?” Mingyu asks incredulously, sitting on an armchair.
“Too much of it,” Joshua replies, sitting up straight so that there’s room for Jeonghan on the couch.
“She’s still nice to me,” Mingyu says thoughtfully. “Maybe she doesn’t hate him.”
“Well that doesn’t mean anything,” Jeonghan says. “She’s still close friends with Joshua, so I don’t think she’s going to let that whole situation get in the way of her own friendships.”
Joshua nods in agreement, adding, “That, and I never said she hated Cheol.”
Mingyu furrows his eyebrows. “She doesn’t?”
“I don’t think she ever did,” Joshua says honestly, leaning back into the cushions as he stretches his arms.
“Really? I would’ve,” Mingyu admits and Jeonghan rolls his eyes.
“We know that you would,” he teases, causing the taller boy to pout but keep his mouth shut. “Anyways, I think Cheol is going to keep trying.”
“I know he will,” Joshua mutters, running a hand over his face. “He’s going to go in circles after her.”
“She’s not gonna give in?” Mingyu asks, and Joshua shakes his head, but Jeonghan puts his hand up in protest.
“I think she might eventually come ‘round to a stop,” he says, and Joshua shoots him a look of surprise. “I dunno, I know you and her are close, but I just have a feeling. We’ll have to see.”
“Don’t let Cheol hear that. He’ll take it as a sign to never stop,” Joshua warns.
Seungcheol doesn’t hear this conversation now or ever, but he never had plans of stopping in the first place. He was always more optimistic than you—than anyone you knew, really—and anyone who knows him should know better than to underestimate the extent of his determination.
Jeonghan and Joshua are making that mistake right now, and even though Cheol will never know what they said, he is determined to prove them wrong, for the sake of his own sanity.
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Jeongyeon picks up the phone after the first ring. “I am so sorry,” she babbles into the line. “I—fuck—we should’ve figured out a ride—I mean I should’ve figured out a ride since I basically forced you to come and I knew I would be drinking and—god, I am so sorry.”
Your head rings at the way her voice blares through the phone, and you sit up and against your headboard. You woke up only moments ago, greeted by a million texts from Jeongyeon, not bothering to soothe your hangover headache before calling her back—she must have been worried, you told yourself.
“It’s okay,” you mumble, reaching over to grab some water from your bedside table. “I got a safe ride home.”
“Yeah, Joshua told me…but still, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you to find a ride on your own.” “Don’t apologize Jeongyeon, I left you without a ride too so stop apologizing or else you’ll start to make me feel bad.”
You can hear her huff on the other end, and you smile. “Okay fine, but seriously. I’ll cover one of your shifts or something soon because I feel bad for even taking you. You looked miserable.”
“That was only because Jeonghan came up to me,” you tell her honestly.
“Jeonghan? Like Seungcheol’s friend?” she says, and you can tell from her voice that she’s hesitating to even say his name.
“Yes,” you sigh softly. Jeongyeon wants to know more, you can feel it, but you aren’t in the mood to bring it up, at least not with her. “It’s whatever. I’ll see you Wednesday?”
She pauses for a moment, seemingly trying to comprehend your quick switch of topics. “Uh, sure. Text me if you need anything, okay?”
“Mhm,” you hum, pulling back your phone as you click to hang up. Letting your head fall back onto your pillow, you inhale deeply. You remember the night before too vividly—even if you were drunk, there was too much happening for you to forget.
You know you can’t forget, so you decide to do just what you’ve been doing for the past half year: ignore. It’s what you’re best at, after all. Yet as your day goes on, your mind begins to trail off. You think, and you think, and you think until you aren’t sure what was real and what was not from last night.
You start to realize that you aren’t as good at ignoring as you like to think.
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“You think too much,” Hyunwoo jokes, watching you stare at the shot of espresso in front of you. You’d made it for yourself as an attempt to feel more energized after your lecture, but you find yourself zoning out as the small cup sits on the counter, waiting for you to gulp it down.
“Uh, sorry,” you murmur, shaking your head a little. “This shift is light and we haven’t had any customers in a few minutes so I just…”
“It’s fine,” Hyunwoo replies with a smile, and you purse your lips. Ever since Joshua told you that Hyunwoo likes you, you’ve been warning yourself to tread lightly. Not that he isn’t a good guy—Hyunwoo is great—he’s just not your type.
What is your type? The thought is swept out of your mind before you even come up with an answer, swooping up the shot of espresso and holding it up to your lips.
It’s been three days since the party, and you haven’t talked to Joshua in a minute, so your mind is slightly frazzled. Hyunwoo is nice, but you miss the comfort of your close friend, and maybe you’re just a little curious to see if he has anything to say about Cheol driving you home that night.
You’re sure he does—you can already predict his words: “you told yourself you wouldn’t talk to him.” Joshua might be harsh with his words, but you feel with the way you’ve been losing your damn mind recently, you need someone like him to bring you back to reality.
Maybe that’s what went wrong with you, with Cheol, with Yejin—with the three of you. You and Cheol were too lost in fantasies, Yejin always holding you two down. She was right—Cheol wouldn’t like you. Two people who didn’t know a reality other than their imaginations couldn’t work out.
Cheol needed someone to ground himself, you needed someone to ground yourself, and at the end of the day, Yejin chose to help him. You still think about what you would have done if you were in her situation, and after months, you can’t come up with an answer.
You remember the events leading up to her decision like it’s as clear as day, and no matter how many times you replay that moment, you don’t know what to think, except that you’re angry, you’re sad—they left you.
“I heard you and Joshua,” Yejin tells you quietly, and you feel your heart stop. “You like Seungcheol?” and the way she uses his full name makes you feel almost ashamed for confirming it with a nod.
“I—” you pause, “—I didn’t know you liked him.”
“I love him,” she corrects you.
“Oh,” is all you manage out.
“You’re pathetic.”
That was the start of it. Yejin sent Chaeyoung over the next day to pick up her stuff from your apartment. You didn’t hear another word from Cheol. The last thing you remember him saying to you was from that night is still a jumble in your head.
You hate crying, and everyone knows it. So when you sprint out of the room minutes after Yejin, eyes red and puffy, Cheol knows something is wrong. Before he can walk up to you, there’s a hand on his shoulder and Yejin has her head pushed up next to his ear.
You don’t know what she tells him, but his gaze falters. The last thing you hear him say is your name quietly as you rush away.
That night, Joshua drives you home while you think about how you’re going to tell your mother that Cheol and Yejin won’t be coming to your house for spring break.
That was six months ago. Of course, six months pales in comparison to the decade you spent as friends. The years from middle school, to high school, to college—you three side by side. Things changed so quickly, too quickly.
Sometimes you think about what she might’ve told him—what she could’ve said that made him turn away at every gathering you were both at after that. That made him erase the years you shared before all this. That made you all strangers.
You figure things like this will never make sense to you. You don’t understand now, and you probably never will—you are content with that.
At least, up until three days ago you were. Some small voice in your head is reminding you of the confusion, the hurt, the heartbreak you felt when it all happened. Now, you’re more desperate than ever to know what exactly happened, it’s just a matter of if you’re willing to go down this rabbit hole of reconnection.
It’s like the universe hears you and laughs. The ringing of the door fills the little cafe and you’re pushing yourself off the counter, nodding and Hyunwoo. “I got it,” you tell him, dropping your cup in the sink and walking over to the register.
Of course it’s Cheol standing in front of you. You can’t tell if he found out your schedule from Joshua (but no, Joshua wouldn’t do that to you) or if it’s just something like fate. Fate.
You sigh, preparing yourself for yet another onslaught of thoughts. “What can I get you?”
There’s something mischievous glinting in his eyes. “Don’t you remember my usual?” Cheol attempts, and you’re surprised by his forwardness. Don’t be shocked, you think. Cheol never backs down, never stops trying.
Do you give in? Just this once? He did help you out that night—you aren’t sure if you’d be able to get home in one piece if it weren’t for him. Then again, it could’ve just been one of Cheol’s kind favors, something that isn’t reserved for only you, but just any drunk girl in general. You don’t want to mistake his qualities of a gentleman with him holding out a figurative olive branch.
Trust me, his words are like a broken record in your mind.
You’re thinking too much. Fuck, if he didn’t hold out the olive branch that night, you’re going to try to now.
“Iced latte with hazelnut syrup,” you say quietly, tapping it into the tablet. You’re scared to look up because you know he's grinning. You shouldn’t want to be the reason behind his smiles, but you do.
“Thanks,” he chirps, holding out his card so you can turn around the tablet for him.
“Your order will come out on your left,” you tell him, not looking up. You expect things to stop now, for things to quietly go back to normal.
“Hey, when do you get off?”
You do a double take to make sure you heard him correctly. “Sorry?” You finally look up at him and god, you start to remember why you loved his smile so much.
“I asked when you get off from your shift? Six?”
“I—uh, yeah,” you reply without thinking. “How’d you know?”
“That’s when Joshua gets off on Fridays. Just a guess,” he shrugs. You purse your lips and don’t respond, not sure where to take things from here; yeah you held out the branch but you didn’t expect him to grab it just this quickly. “Can I stay until then?”
You should say no. You really should say no. But then you’re thrown back to three days ago and the words are sounding an awful lot like trust me, trust me, and then you realize you just can’t deny him.
“Okay,” you say softly. You can tell from the look of relief on Cheol’s face that he wasn’t expecting this, and you aren’t sure what to take from that. As you turn to make his drink, you glance at the clock. Thirty seven minutes before your shift ends, and you can’t figure out if you’re going to try and make the time before them fly or go slow.
Handing Cheol his drink, you don’t say anything, your movements swift as you try and unbox your own feelings. Of course, you aren’t given the liberty to do that, not when Hyunwoo is standing in front of you.
“Is that Seungcheol?”
“Take a wild guess,” you mutter, closing your eyes tightly for a moment. Maybe if you think hard enough you’ll realize it’s just a dream where your actions have no real consequences.
“I thought you two didn’t talk.”
“Did Joshua tell you that?”
“Kind of…maybe…I sorta figured it out on my own,” Hyunwoo admits. “Sorry, that sounds weird.” You sigh softly, feeling bad for how flustered Hyunwoo is.
“It’s okay…let’s just get back to work,” you suggest, turning away to clean up some of the counters with your extra time.
You don’t notice it, but Cheol watches the conversation between you and Hyunwoo unfold, and while he can’t hear what you two are saying, he has a feeling he won’t like it. He has to remind himself to not have high expectations, to not get his hopes up, just like Jeonghan and Joshua warn, but he just can’t help it.
But when you agree to see him after your shift (he knows you didn’t technically agree to that, but he knows you and is sure that you caught onto his underlying message), he just has to stay hopeful. So as he patiently waits for the clock to strike six, he thinks about what to say.
To be honest, this all happened on a whim. Again, he didn’t really know that you were working today, he just happened to get lucky. Cheol himself isn’t sure what exactly he wants to say to you, he just knows it is a lot.
He thinks about you a lot. The good, the bad, all the in between—Seungcheol misses you. And he knows that it isn’t fair, that he shouldn’t do this, that he doesn’t have the right—Joshua has made that clear to him on numerous occasions.
“She’s fine without you.”
“But—”
“You don’t have a say about being in her life.”
“And you do?” Cheol shoots out.
Joshua steps back. “I don’t either, but I know how she’s doing better than you. I know how she felt after everything happened.”
Cheol pauses. That, Joshua did. Cheol didn’t know anything, did he? “This isn’t about you, it’s about me and it’s about her.”
“There is no you and her,” Joshua says bluntly. Cheol doesn’t say anything, but he knows in his mind that he needs to change that.
Cheol lets the idea run through his mind, that he's making a royal mistake right now, and all this is going to amount to nothing. He doesn’t mull over it for longer than ten seconds. He is going to do this, and if he doesn’t, he’d be damned if he didn’t at least try.
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You get off your shift while Hyunwoo continues his. “You’re going to talk to him?” he asks with knitted eyebrows, pointing at Cheol.
“Uh, yeah,” you say sheepishly in the back, untying your apron. “Don’t tell Joshua, he’ll kick my ass,” you add, only only half joking. Joshua definitely won’t let you hear the end of this, but that is another problem for another time. Hanging up your apron, you grab your backpack from the shelf and slip to the back door. “See you later!” you chirp, throwing Hyunwoo one last wave before you enter the seating area from the back to make your way to Cheol who’s sitting at an elevated stool by the window.
Your once confident strides are much smaller now, you find yourself holding back each one more and more. Do you really want this? Trust me. You’ll just have to find out. “Hey,” you say quietly, and this time you don’t let your gaze fall, tapping on Cheol’s shoulder. He turns around quickly, straw in his mouth as he drinks the half finished drink with a smile.
“Hey, you’re early,” he states casually, glancing at the time. It’s 5:57.
“I guess,” you reply, voice as still as you can manage.
“You’ve probably been here for a while,” Cheol murmurs to himself, getting up from his seat. “You want to go on a walk? The weather is nice right now.”
You want to roll your eyes and tease him, saying “it’s August, of course the weather is nice,” but you stop yourself—you aren’t sure if you’re ready for that level of comfort yet. “Sure,” you agree instead, adjusting your bag over your shoulder as you follow him out the door and onto the main street.
“How was work? Stopped working at the bakery, huh?” he says, and you just don’t get it. How is he being so casual? How is he acting like this is the first time you two have had a real conversation in months? How is he—you don’t even realize you’ve stopped walking until he calls out your name. God, you really missed how it sounded when he said your name. “What’s wrong?”
You don’t even think before responding. “What do you think is wrong?” Cheol is standing a few feet in front of you and the look on his face is confusing…you can’t read it. You aren’t sure if it’s because he’s confused, or if it’s because you just aren’t used to this, or what. Whatever it is, you don’t like it.
“I’m sorry,” Cheol says softly, stepping forward. You still don’t move. “I—uh shit, sorry—this,” he brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “this is weird, you’re right I just, I don’t know—”
“Is there something you want to say?” Your eyes bore into his, and Cheol knows he can’t keep any secrets from you.
“I’m sorry.”
You nod. “Okay.”
“Okay?” he asks hopefully.
“What do you want me to say?” you ask with a shrug. “Sorry for what?”
“A lot of things. Everything,” Cheol admits, and your eyes widen slightly at his honesty. You pretend to glance down at your watch.
“Well you’re going to have to be more specific,” you tell him truthfully, “and don’t have a lot of time.”
“I’ll come again!” he says quickly, holding his hands up as you’re about to walk towards your car. “When do you work? Tell me. I’ll come after every shift.”
“I work almost everyday.”
“I’ll come everyday,” he says with no hesitation. Your heart tightens. You a month ago would have said fuck no, but then trust me, trust me is echoing in your head again and before you can stop yourself, you’re nodding.
“Mondays and Tuesday I get off at 6, Wednesdays at 9, Thursdays at…”
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You used to believe Seungcheol always lived up to his promises. When you were younger, you couldn’t think of a single time when he didn’t go by his word. You trusted him, always, so when he broke the promise of “we’ll stick together”—arguably the only one that actually mattered—you were shattered. You still are, or at least your trust is.
Right now, Cheol promises he’ll come see you after every shift. You don’t think you should trust him, but you do anyway, watching the clock to make sure he’s always here on time. You tell yourself you do it because you don’t like to be kept waiting, but you know deep down that you’re just trying to find an excuse.
You’re trying to justify your distrust, even though you already have a perfectly good reason for being tentative around Cheol. Somehow, whenever you’re with him, you forget about it all.
It’s awkward most of the time. Well, more like you’re awkward and Cheol just pretends you aren’t, acting all normal and like you aren’t stumbling over your words and blanking out mid sentence.
You’re not nervous, you just don’t know what to say, the words getting lost in your head as you wonder whether or not there’s a line and where it is and if you should cross it.
Today is the fifth day Cheol comes to see you after your shift. He comes in at 6:54 which is a bit earlier than usual, and it’s the first time that Joshua is seeing the scene unfold. As Cheol walks in, your friend throws you a careful glance before waving over at his friend and connecting fists as he hops over to take his order.
“Iced latte with—”
“I’m not here for a drink,” Cheol says quickly, putting his hand up before he can watch Joshus key in his usual order.
“Huh…did I miss something?” Joshua asks, checking his watch for any missed messages. You chew your lip and Cheol glances at you, realizing that you haven’t told Joshua that you and him are speaking again.
“Uh, no,” Cheol murmurs. He points at you and when he sees that you don’t protest, he proceeds. “We’re, uh, I’m just waiting for her shift to end and—” he stops talking when Joshua whips his head around to stare at you with a look of bewilderment.
You nod shyly, untying your apron as you make your way to the back room. Joshua follows quickly behind you, closing the door behind him while you hang up the garment. “What does he mean by that?”
“I dunno, Josh,” you say, because honestly you aren’t sure how to explain it either.
“Remember what you said?” he tells you—you know where this is headed, and you really don’t want him to bring it up. “You said you’d never forgive them.”
You did say that. “In a moment of anger,” you argue, grabbing your bag. You know he’s just being protective of you, but right now it’s getting on your nerves.
“And? You’re just going to forgive him because he drove you home when you were drunk?”
“I haven’t forgiven him!” you pause. “At least not yet.”
“You’re seriously going to forgive him after all that you said about moving on?”
“I have moved on, Joshua,” you tell him. It’s true. “There’s nothing wrong with letting him back in my life now, especially if he wants to.”
“And what if he fucks up again?”
You roll your eyes as you walk to the back door. “How’s that supposed to happen? Thought you said he and Yejin broke up?”
“They did, but that isn’t the point.”
“Then what is?” you ask exasperatedly. “I’m old enough to make my own decisions. You’re acting like I don’t know the consequences of my actions. You’re acting as if I wasn’t the one who had to go through all that, so please just let me make this decision.”
Joshua steps back and sighs, and by the way he doesn’t say anything as you open the door, you assume he has accepted defeat.
Cheol meets you on the other side of the door, wearing his usual smile. You can only pray that he didn’t hear your conversation with Joshua. “Hey,” he greets and you nod in response. Well if he heard anything, he pretends he doesn’t. The truth is, Cheol hears every word, he’s just very good at putting a smile on his face.
You two walk out of the store silently and side by side. “How was work?” Cheol asks.
“Good. It’s most fun with Joshua,” you reply, walking on the sidewalk like you two usually do. You follow a trail down the street and through some parks for kids, always making a round trip back to your cafe where your car is parked.
The days have been getting shorter, and it’s evident by the way the sky is painted a deep orange right now. “Didn’t sound like he’s too happy today,” Cheol comments, and you halt your steps for just a moment, realizing he did hear you two.
“Uh, yeah,” you mumble. You two haven’t talked about that since you started speaking again. All the things Cheol said he wanted to apologize for were left suspended in the air, waiting for one of you to pluck it out and face reality. Neither of you were ever really good at that. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.” 
“I’m sorry you had to say that,” Cheol responds almost instantly, standing in the middle of the sidewalk and turning to face you.
Your eyebrows furrow when you respond, “What?”
“I mean, shit, I worded that badly,” he groans, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “I’m sorry that…you know—you said you’d never forgive me and I’m sorry. And I know you probably shouldn’t forgive me but I’m sorry.”
You certainly weren’t expecting that, but then again, you need to remind yourself to never be surprised when it comes to Cheol. You bite back the words, “it’s okay,” because you aren’t ready to say that, so instead you just nod. “Okay.” Your eyes glaze around your surroundings and they fall on a bench. Pointing at it, you say, “Let’s sit, yeah?”
You two sit side by side on the bench, and you think that this is the closest either of you have been in a long time, your thighs almost brushing against each other’s. The sky darkens above you, and you usually would take this as your cue to go back to your car, but tonight, you stay.
There’s a question that’s prodding at the back of your mind, and you chide yourself for even thinking about it. Don’t ask him, don’t do it, and you almost listen. Almost. You figure that the fact that you’re even here with Cheol right now is a sign that things are changing more than they already have, that you’re changing in ways that you didn’t know you could, and Cheol is changing, and he’s changing for you.
Cheol senses it too, that you’re thinking deeply, and he waits. When you’re finally lifting your head and looking up at the sky, he turns to you as you open your mouth. “How did you guys break up?” You can’t bring yourself to say “you and Yejin.” It’s too painful of a reminder that there was once a Cheol and Yejin, and that it came at the expense of you and Cheol and Yejin.
He takes a deep breath and hesitates, but you don’t retract your question. You feel after everything, you deserve to know, no matter how aching the memory is. “She cheated on me.”
“Oh.”
Cheol’s voice is flat for the first time since you’ve started speaking again. “Yeah,” he mutters. You purse your lips together, unsure of what to do, what to say. There was a time that you felt you knew all the right words, all the right things to do, but now you’re lost. Maybe it’s because Cheol has changed, but then—no, it’s not him, it’s you. You’ve changed. You thought you didn’t care, and that was true.
You didn’t care about what happened to Cheol or Yejin or them because they had left you and there was nothing after that. You didn’t care because caring wouldn’t help you get either of them back, and you didn’t care because caring only made long nights of you crying in your bed even longer.
But did you ever stop caring about Cheol? About Yejin? There’s a fine line, you realize, between caring about your relationship with someone and caring about them, and it hits you that not once did you not care about Cheol.
What would you have done if this had happened six months ago? What would you have said? You were never the best at words, but when it came to Cheol and Yejin, you always found some way to make them feel better. Looking over at Cheol, his head hangs low as he chews on his lip.
You reach over your hand and place it on his shoulder gently. “I’m sorry,” you tell him.
Cheol chuckles hollowly, causing you to frown deeply. “Shouldn’t I be the one saying that?”
“We have time for that later,” you reply honestly, not breaking the contact even when he shifts a little, finally looking up at you.
“Later?” he asks hopefully. You smile and nod. This is a promise, you both know. Joshua is going to kill you for this later.
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“He got fired?” you snort. “Didn’t he say he could get away with anything?”
“Yeah,” Cheol chuckles. “And to be fair, he did get away with a lot. Honestly, I’m surprised he didn’t get fired months ago. He would give me and Soonyoung discounts all the time, it was crazy.”
“I remember that…” you say quietly.
“Yeah, anyways, he got fired and now he’s complaining about not having extra cash. Minghao’s telling him to just find another job but Hannie is convinced that he’ll be able to convince his boss to hire him back…”
“Knowing Jeonghan, he might just be able to pull that off.”
“Who knows,” Cheol murmurs with a shrug. “It’s late. Do you want to go?”
“Want me gone already?” you tease. Things are more comfortable now. It isn’t the same as before—how could it—but it’s getting there. You aren’t sure you’ll ever be “back to the old days,” but you sure are trying to get as close as you can.
“You know that isn’t true,” he shoots back. You trust him, and if that’s a mistake, you hardly care. Maybe this is where you start to crumble. “I’m just trying to make sure that it’s not too late when you get home.”
He’s being caring, although it isn’t unexpected. Cheol was always caring. “You’re right,” you murmur, not wanting to admit that you might have wanted to sit here and talk to him a bit longer. You stand up, grabbing your back and he follows after you as you walk up the street in the direction of the shop. You return back to the conversation of Jeonghan and his antics both in and out of the workplace, and before you know it, you’re back at the parking lot.
You’ve grown to look forward to these meetings—how could you not—and it does kill a little bit of self control inside of you every time you realize that fact.
“You gonna go now?” he asks softly, and as you stop walking, you let the tension grow thick. This part is always awkward. You don’t know if it’s fitting to say “bye” or “goodbye” or “see you later” or hug him or wave or—you usually settle for a smile but there’s a growing ache in your heart which tells you that maybe you want more.
Cheol seems to think the same, and it all happens so quickly, too quickly, and suddenly you’re going dizzy and your world is spinning.
Choi Seungcheol’s lips are soft.
And they don’t press against yours for more than a second before you place your hands on his chest and push him back. You almost indulge. Almost.
“Why would you do that?” you whisper, not meeting his gaze. Cheol runs a hand through his hair, steeping back with wide eyes.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck, I am so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking—shit, shit, shit—I’m sorry, I’m so sor—”
You ball your fists and your face contorts into some ugly sort of grimace. “Stop saying that!” you cry out, and Cheol stills. “Stop fucking saying you’re sorry! I-I-I hate it!”
“What?” and the hurt is more than evident in his voice.
“I know you’re sorry, okay? I get it,” you tell him exasperatedly. “And you keep saying it—you’re sorry for everything, you’re sorry for all of it. It’s all you say, but maybe if you just stopped and thought for a second you’d realize that no matter how much you keep saying it, I have not once said it’s okay.”
He gapes at you for a moment but recovers quickly, running a hand through his hair. “I—” he pauses, “I don’t know how else to tell you. It’s been a few weeks and—”
“You didn’t speak to me for six months,” you spit out, and you wonder if this is what it’s all going to come down to. The past month of you figuring out your emotions, working out what you want, what’s good for you, what’s not—you’re afraid that right now it will all amount to nothing.
Maybe you two were in your heads too long. Maybe this was your harsh pull back down to the ground.
“Six months, Seungcheol,” you repeat, and he winces when you use his full name.
“I know, I’m s—”
“You’re sorry, I know,” you say quieter this time, slumping against the wall. His lips were so warm, so soft, you still feel their ghost on your lips. You calm down for a second at the thought, but then your anger bubbles up when you remind yourself that Yejin got to taste him too. Got to have him, love him, cherish him for those six months. Jealousy doesn’t suit you, but that isn’t what this is about anyways. Right now, all it does is fuel your heat.
“I just—I don’t know how to really say it,” Cheol admits.
“Well you should figure that out,” you tell him harshly. “I can’t stand here forever, waiting for you to find the right words.”
“You’re right, I know.”
“Do you?” you ask, exhausted. It’s all catching up to you know—you’re tired, so tired.
“I do.”
Do you trust Cheol?
“I don’t believe you,” your voice quivers when you say it, and Cheol feels his heart break at the sound. “I can’t.”
“I know—that’s my fault, I know.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“I’m trying.” You know he is, there isn’t a doubt in your mind. Inhaling deeply, you choose your words carefully.
“We need to talk about everything,” you tell him slowly.
“Okay,” Cheol agrees quickly. “Okay, where do you want to start?”
“Where do you think we should start? I think that’s where we should start.”
Cheol sucks in a breath and pinches his eyebrows together. You can tell that he, just like you, is making sure he doesn’t say anything he’ll regret. “Well, the beginning, I guess,” he sighs, and you open your mouth in protest but he holds his hand out to stop you. “Okay just listen.” “Fine.”
“I found out Yejin liked me in January,” he tells you.
“That was a month before…” your voice trails off and he nods.
“Before we got together and…” And we stopped talking to you. He doesn’t say, doesn’t need to. “Yeah. Chaeyoung told me. Yejin didn’t know I knew until…”
“Until you started liking her,” you mutter under your breath. You furrow your eyebrows and look up at him. “You know I know this, right? Joshua told me when you told him.”
Cheol seems surprised by that. “What, really?” you aren’t sure why he never expected that—you and Joshua are pretty much like siblings, after all.
“Yeah. I think I knew before Yejin,” you admit. Your voice is small, and the way the entire event of six months ago is playing out in your head is a not so nice reminder of why you’re in this situation in the first place.
“Oh.” Silence. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
You frown. “What was I supposed to say? ‘No Cheol! Don’t like Yejin! Like me!’” you say in a mocking tone. “Why would I do that to her? Why would I do that to you?” you were calm a moment ago, but you feel yourself growing upset again.
“I thought you—” Cheol thinks for a moment, wondering if he should say it, “—I thought you liked me.”
“I did,” you seethe out. “But did you think I was going to beg you to change your mind? To change your feelings?” Cheol is quiet now, and you take it as your cue to continue. “I…I cared about you and Yejin so much—” that’s a lie (you still do)—“and you should know that if you guys were happy I would be okay with that.”
“What about your feelings? Why didn’t you do anything about that?” Cheol shoots back, and it’s starting to sound an awful lot like your last conversation with Yejin.
“You claim you love him but you’re just willing to give him up like that? That’s pathetic. You are pathetic.”
You feel tears stream down your cheeks at the memory and you need to remind yourself that it isn’t worth crying over—but then again, it is. “I would’ve dealt with my feelings just as I have been for the past six months—by myself and totally fine.”
Cheol doesn’t have a response to that, because if there’s one thing he won’t even attempt to refute, it’s this. Because after everything, you have been okay. You have been healing. It killed him every time Joshua would tell him you’re doing fine, because he wasn’t doing fine and he was having a really, really hard time accepting that.
He knows it’s unfair, Cheol knows he’s being anything but fair, but he just doesn’t know how to help it.
It’s the worst that you’re crying now—crying ‘cause of him. Because Cheol knows that you were okay and it was him that decided to butt back in your life to try and make amends, and you being you, decided to let him back in and fuck—he knows he’s being selfish by doing all this and he know he doesn’t deserve this yet you are still here, trying to hear him out.
“I fucked up, I don’t deserve a second chance.”
You choke back a sob, “Damn right you don’t,” and Cheol knows that you’re right.
“I’m still going to try.”
You brush some tears away from your face. “I know.”
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You go home that night without another word, and Cheol only stops you to make sure you’ve stopped crying before you start the car and drive off. It’s the next day, and you can’t help but glance back and forth between the door and clock as your shift nears its end.
“You waiting for him?” Hyunwoo asks you from the side, and you feel a little bit bad at the way his voice sounds a bit sad.
“Uh—” Are you waiting for Cheol? “—I guess, yeah.” There’s no reason for you to deny it. You’ve replayed last night’s conversation more times than you can count, and you still aren’t sure how to feel. You need to see him.
As the time nears six, an uneasy feeling pools at your stomach, and you wonder what you’ll do if he doesn’t show up. End it for good? Add it to the list of reasons why you should never talk to him again? Block h—
The bell above the door ringing saves you from that rabbit hole. It’s 5:59 and Cheol waits in front of the door and for once, he isn’t donning a smile. Looking at Hyunwoo, you throw out a small wave before slipping to the back room. Hyunwoo doesn’t follow you, he stopped doing that after the first two times Seungcheol started coming, although you aren’t sure why. It’s a passing thought though, definitely not at the forefront of your mind as you hang your apron routinely and exit through the back door.
Cheol waits for you by the door and you don’t say anything as you both leave through the front. The atmosphere is thick and you aren’t sure who is going to say what and when. It’s only when you’ve walked around two minutes down your regular path that Cheol stops in front of that bench. Flickering his eyes towards yours for a moment of confirmation, he sits down and motions you to follow. You sit side by side and once again, you two are almost touching, but aren’t quite there just yet.
“So,” you finally say. “Where were we?”
“That night,” Cheol replies quietly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. You glance over at him and can’t help but realize how…small he looks. You want to reach out and hold him for a moment, but you shouldn’t.
“What about that night?” you murmur. There’s too much about that night for you to even fathom what he’s thinking about.
“What did Yejin say to you? In the room?” he asks.
“Does that matter?” You seriously don't want to recount it, but then Cheol is nodding and you just have to give in. “She was mad…same reason as you,” you mumble.
“What do you mean?”
“Didn’t like how I was accepting of it all,” you sigh, leaning back. “I think she just got sick of me,” you finally confess. “Didn’t like me anymore, and then she thought I was pathetic or something and used that as an excuse to just—I dunno, drop me.” You pause, turning to look at him again. “What did she tell you?”
You know you probably shouldn’t ask. It’ll be painful, you know, but you’re confident you can handle it.
“She said it couldn’t work…the three of us. That it was either me ‘n’ her or nothing, because nothing could go back to normal after this.”
You look down. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“You believed her?”
“Well, at the time,” Cheol murmurs, “Yeah I did.”
“Okay.”
“I’m sorry.” Trust me, trust me. “I liked that she liked me. I liked her and I thought I was going to lose you either way and—”
“I said okay.”
“Is it okay?”
“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly. “I beat myself up a lot for all that, you know? Wondered what she could’ve said that made you not wanna fight to be my friend.” You scoff to yourself. “I guess we both suck at that.”
“Huh?”
“You know: fighting for what we want,” you clarify.
“That can change,” Cheol says, clearing his throat. “I’m fighting right now.”
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That conversation is the first of many. One month later and Cheol is still fighting. It’s your birthday, and you aren’t surprised that he remembers, but you are surprised when he gets you a gift. A new apron. “Your old one is getting…well, old.”
You’re both sitting at the bench once again, and for the first time, your thighs brush against each other’s fully. It’s warm, it’s welcoming, it’s soft. Maybe you and Cheol haven’t finished crossing the bridge yet, but you’ve definitely finished building it. There’s time for the rest later. You want to focus on you and him now.
“I wonder why,” you say sarcastically, taking it out of the bag. “It’s cute—hey, is this my name?” you ask excitedly, holding up the little spot on the top with some letter embroidered in.
“Uh, yeah, it’s custom and all…I got Minghao to help me with the design.” You smile genuinely, turning to him.
“Thank you, I love it.”
“Thank god. Jeonghan said it was a stupid gift but I thought it was thoughtful…”
“Jeonghan once got you a rubber duck for your birthday, so I would take everything he says about gift-giving with a big fat grain of salt.”
“Hey, I still have that duck,” he tells you, and you both laugh together. “It’s in the bathroom, I only take it down for special occasions.”
“Special occasions being…?”
Cheol taps his chin. “Hmm…birthdays, the last day of school, Christmas…I’d like to think my luck is pretty great whenever I use it.”
“Is that so…” you hum. “When was the last time you used it?”
“Like two days ago.”
“Nothing special happened two days ago.” That’s a lie, and he sees right through it.
Cheol smiles smugly. “I know. It was just right before I came to see you.” Your cheeks burn as you turn away.
Two days ago being the last time you and him talked about all of it. From beginning to end, just like you had so many times before except for the first time, you were finally able to utter the words, “it’s okay, we’re okay.”
“Right…maybe luck really was on your side then,” you tease.
“Whatever,” Cheol says with a pout, watching you glance at your phone. “Do you need to go? I thought you didn’t have anything planned?”
“I don’t,” you say with a huff. “I just saw that my birthday gift from my parents got delivered. It’s fine, I’ll pick it up when I get home later.” You ponder whether this is the right moment to bring it up. “You can… come along if you want.”
It’s almost as if his ears perk up. “To your place?”
“Um, yeah,” you try to come off as casual. “Only if you want,” you add quickly, and he picks up on the double meaning right away.
Which is how you end up here.
“Haven’t been here in so long,” Cheol murmurs, looking over your apartment. It’s the exact same, save for some pictures with Yejin and him that have since been taken down. He would have been upset about it a month ago, but now he is content. It only makes it a goal for him to take more pictures with you now so you’ll have some to put up.
“Mhm,” you nod, putting your bag down on your kitchen counter.
“Hey…” he says softly as you flick on one light. It’s dim, but there’s just enough light for you to see the worried look on his face.
“Everything alright?”
He chews on his lips and he looks pretty. “I need to know where your head is at right now,” he admits. There’s a lot of different meanings to what he’s just asked, but with the way he’s looking at you, you have a pretty good idea of what he’s trying to say. “I don’t want to misread anything like the last time I—the last time.” The last time he kissed you.
You look down at the counter. You brought him here for a reason, but are you ready?
Trust me, trust me.
Of course you are. With Cheol, you’ll always be ready.
So when he’s pushing you up against the wall, hands grappling at your waist, feeling his warm, wet lips against you, you don’t waste a single second thinking about anyone else. You don’t think about what Joshua will say, you don’t think about how Jeongyeon will react, you don’t think about the look on Yejin’s face if she were to ever find out about this because right now, it’s Cheol that’s in front of you, and it’s Cheol that will always be in front of you.
One leg around his torso, your mouth smashes against his in a tangled mess of tongue and lip and it’s desperate and has you aching for more. And then he’s leading you to your bedroom and you are reminded of the fact that Cheol knows this place so well that he doesn’t even need to ask for directions.
Throwing you onto the bed your mind goes blank—it’s as if all the happiness in the world rushes to you at once, leaving you all light-headed and disoriented when Cheol clambers on top of you, his thigh wedged between your legs.
With his fingers pressed deeply into your hips as he runs his tongue along your jawline,rocking  your clothed cunt against Cheol’s bare thigh, his gym shorts hiked up so that you can press your core as close to him as possible. Your breath is slightly labored as his lips press open mouthed kisses all the way down, and you feel yourself become increasingly needy at the way you can see the imprint of his cock against his shorts.
“Shit—you’re so—wait,” he murmurs, pulling his lips away from your burning skin to bore his eyes down at you. “Is this okay?” he asks softly, pulling his knee back so there’s some space between you and him. Cheol doesn’t expect for your eyes to widen, hand shooting out and grabbing his thigh to make sure it doesn’t move another inch.
“Yes,” you gasp out, pulling his leg so hard that he stumbles forward a bit when you do, the hard muscle pressing back against your core. Cheol lets the initial shock of you being needy for him settle in, and suddenly he’s grinning and having one hand back at your waist, the other at your neck so he can tilt your head up and have better access to skin over your collarbone.
His fingers are rough and calloused as they slip beneath your shirt, pushing it up just far enough that your bra is exposed. Hovering above you, you watch through hazy vision as Cheol’s eyes dilate at the sight, swooping his head down to free one of your tits from the cup and catching a nipple in his mouth.
Your body jerks against his as he swipes a tongue over the hardened peak, and suddenly you feel that there’s too much fabric between you and his thigh. “Ch-cheol,” you mutter, tapping at his head that is currently burning beneath your shirt while he sneaks kisses all up and down your stomach, between your tits, and over your cleavage.
“What is it, baby?” he coos, pulling his head out and looking up at you, the pet name shooting shivers up our spine.
“Pants—ah—” you whine when he presses his thigh harder into you. “Pants!” you cry, trying your best to unbutton them with shaky fingers. Cheol picks up right away, helping you unzip them before hooking two fingers on the waistband and yanking the fabric down and over your feet, freeing yourself and your pussy of its unbearable restraints.
“Fuck, this is—you’re so hot,” he murmurs, looking down at your bare legs and tracing his fingers from your ankles to your knees, and then finally through your inner thighs where he bends down and starts to place rough kisses.
Usually, if he was in his right mind, Cheol would have wanted to take his sweet time with you, unraveling, unwinding all of you. But he’s figured that both of you have waited long enough and that you both deserve to be needy, to be desperate, to let this moment pass as quickly as it started because there will be plenty of time for a round two and three later on.
All you need right now is to feel each other, which is how he ends up pushing your panties to the side and digging his tongue into your dripping folds without warning. “Cheol!” you moan loudly, your hand gripping his hair tightly while he simultaneously wraps one arm over your hips, pulling you closer.
Seungcheol is going crazy, he thinks, because the taste of your pussy is better than any alcohol he’s ever drunk. You’re sweet and your cunt is literally fluttering its pretty fuck folds all for him as he slides one finger through them to collect your growing wetness. He feels himself growing high on the feeling and taste alone, his own hips pressing into the mattress in hopes of relieving some of the tension in his own pants.
There’s a slobbering mess that runs down his lips and chin as he fervently makes out with your pussy, and you briefly wonder how a man can be so good at making you feel this good before the thought is swept from your mind by one of Cheol’s thick fingers prodding at your entrance.
Holy hell, you’re so tight for him—gummy walls clamping down on his single digit the second he started to move it in and out’ta you, his mind racing as he thinks about how you might feel around his cock. And Cheol isn’t the only one thinking about it either, because when he’s slipping in another finger, you’re already crying out for more.
“I gotta work you up to it baby,” he tells you sympathetically, using one free hand to shove down his pants leaving him in only a shirt and boxers.
“Don’t wanna wait…” you protest with a pout, eyes shamelessly looking down at his figure hunched over you so you can catch sight of the imprint of his cock against his boxers.
Cheol chuckles, even though he’s on the brink of giving in himself. “Take your shirt off for me, yeah? It’ll save us some time.” That’s all you need to hear before you’re sitting up and yanking the stupidly tight shirt over your head and throwing it to the side as Cheol’s fingers continue their onslaught deep inside your cunt.
It’s less of an in and out motion now, and more of a curling motion that’s exploring you, finding out what makes you hum, what makes you moan, and what makes you go—“Oh fuck, Cheol!” He grins at the sound, leaning down to press a kiss on your clit as he pulls his slick fingers away.
“You wanted more?” he murmurs, slipping his own shirt over his head to reveal the familiar set of abs and toned chest. You let out a dazed smile at the sight, letting your body fall back onto the mattress.
“‘course I do,” you reply without hesitation, watching eagerly as his hand holds the waistband of his boxers and pushes the cloth down, revealing his cock all thick and hard as it springs out and hits his abdomen.
It’s long and it’s thick, and it’s nothing less than what you expected from Cheol, in fact, it’s a lot more than that. But you don’t even have time to think about how pretty his cock looks, pink tip all flushed as a thick vein runs down the side of its length, because it’s pushing against your entrance as he watches your face carefully.
When your eyebrows knit into a convulsion of pleasure and you squeak out his full name, he knows he can't hold back, slamming into your drooling cunt in one go.
And his cock is so big it’s pushing you open, but the pain is so good, so enthralling, that you don’t even mind being split in half if it’s like this—if it’s because every time he pulls his hips back, you know he’ll slam it deeper and deeper every single time, hitting spots deep inside of your cunt that you didn’t even know existed.
All while your limbs are flailing around him, thrashing as you bite into his shoulder, muffling your cries of, “Cheol, Cheol, Cheol!”
Your name falls from his lips too, mixed in with the mindless words of, beautiful, pretty, princess as he compliments you for takin’ him so well and squeezin’ him so good he doesn't know how he hasn’t bust already.
“God, fuck,” he moans when you look up at him through heavy lashes, tethering his boto m lip between his teeth to try and slow his impending orgasm. “Fuck,” he chokes out, “shit—I love you—”
And there is your breaking point. Like the world has come to a stop and there is only you and Cheol and this moment and—god, you really are too far gone now—and him and you is all that matters.
You cum like you never have before, his cock battering your cunt ‘til you’re shaking and crying and yelling out his name as you feel nothing but him, think nothing but him, know nothing but him.
This is the moment you’ve both been waiting for, and as soon as Cheol has noticed your slower breaths he’s pulling out and letting you wrap one hand around his fat cock to help jerk himself off. He’s so close—so fucking close—and then you’re whispering those fated words—those three words—he feels everything in him just snap, hot cum shooting all over your swollen, abused cunt, and Cheol feels his heart swell.
Love.
There’s a lot more you need to work on, you both know that, but it’s okay.
Trust me, trust me.
I love you.
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a/n. literally wrote the last part half asleep and i hate the ending but... okay wow … i had a tough time writing this because i really wanted it to be taken slow and i’m not really sure how well it went … also this story might have been a bit a lot of a reflection of a friendship that went wrong in my own life LOL so this might be me playing out how i wish things ended up :/so anyways please sharing ur thoughts and like and reblog!
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spidybaby · 2 months
Text
Valentine's Day through the years
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A little late valentine's day gift from me to you 😋❤️
February 2020
"Can you open the door? Is Aurora." You sister asks, brush in one hand and hairspray on the other.
She was throwing a valentine's day party and you were helping her with opening the door since she said "only friends" are allowed.
"Isn't it a little early for her to be here?" You ask confused. Getting up from your bed. "like two hours early."
"just open the door." she yells from her bathroom.
You walked downstairs, mad that you weren't allowed to be at the party but you were opening everybody's knock.
"Hola guapa." Aurora says, hugging you. "Pablo had the cupcakes, help him please."
Behind her it was Pablo, he was carrying two cupcake plates, they look amazing you had to admit.
You grab one of the plates, walking to the garden and leaving it on the very pink and red table.
"Y/n, Pablo's staying, maybe you guys can watch a movie or something." Aurora says, she was putting some decorations on the garden. "and don't worry I'll take care of the door."
You turn to Pablo, he has this mad face. You and him are civil but he never cross words with you.
"we can see something in my room." You offer, he nods. You both walk to your room. He sits on the chair you have there. "You can sit on the bed."
He does that, sitting next to you. You open netflix and pass him the remote, you let him pick whatever he likes.
"I like comedies and I like action movies. But you can pick any movie you want." You smile at him.
You can't deny your little crush on him. Aurora and your sister are like glue, always together, meaning whenever they have the chance they force you to go out with them.
The thing here is, Pablo was shy, he was very introverted and he didn't even answer you with more than a yes or no.
"Do you want some pop corn and soda?" You get up from bed and walk to your door. "I know you're a footballer but a cheat day won't hurt"
The little smile he gives you is making your stomach go crazy. He nods excited. "do you have that red soda?"
"si, do you want a cupcake? I can steal two."
"por favor." he smiles big, you love the way he was smiling.
You hurry downstairs, grabbing a package of popcorn and throwing them in the microwave.
"Aurora, I think the bathroom is not working, is that going to be a problem?"
"What? No, that can't be I just went." she leaves what she's doing. "let me check, maybe it's not."
When she left the table you grab two of the pink cupcakes. Hurrying to the kitchen to hide them.
"False alarm, is working." she says happy. "sorry I left you with my brother, mom asked me to bring him and well you guys are the same age. Just ask him about football or something."
"Yeah, no problem."
When the popcorn is ready you grab everything in a little tray and carefully take it to your room.
"I have that red soda and the cupcake."
His eyes light up, it was like seeing a child excited for candy even when mom said no.
"I picked a comedy, since you say you like them."
Your smile grow, you leave the tray on your bed, taking a sit next to him you both watch the comedy.
After three movies, two comedies and one action. The night was coming to an end, sadly, you think to yourself.
The music from the party recently gone as your sister's friends say goodbye to her.
You turn the TV off, moving the empty popcorn bowl. The two cupcakes seating on top of the tray.
You remembered what Aurora told you. "cómo van los partidos?" (how are the matches?)
He scuff, he knows you don't know anything about football. "good, I scored a goal in my last one." he smiles proud.
You nod, not sure what else to ask. "that's good, so you're a forward?"
"No, I'm a midfielder."
"Oh, okay." You say low. "and do you like being a midfielder?"
He laughs, you smile a little at that, at least one of you is having fun with the talk. "I do, I love playing. When I play I feel so good."
"You play really good, the other day Aurora showed us a video."
He blush at the confession. He loves when people ask about football but with you he feels more shy than usual.
"I have a game in a few days, maybe you can come." he asks, very low voice. Grabbing the cupcake and biting it to make the things less awkward.
"Pablo." You laugh, the frosting from the cupcake on his nose. "come here."
You grab a napkin, cleaning carefully his nose. His eyes are on you the whole time, he love the way your eyes shine, maybe too much to ever say it.
"Done." You smile, getting up from bed and throwing the napkin on the little trashcan in your room.
Aurora knocks on the door, announcing that their mom was waiting for them and to pick his things.
"Thank you for the movie and for the food, I really enjoy it."
Your smile grow, he loved that. "Thank you for not leaving me alone, it would have been so much worse without you here."
Aurora screaming at Pablo to go interrupt your chat. He waves goodbye and walk out of your room.
"Pablo." You call, hand on the door and only half body out of the door. "Hope you score a goal for this match, so I can say I have a good memory of my first match."
The last thing you see is his smile, closing the door and trying to remain calm. You feel like in one of those romantic movies.
February 2021
"That was amazing. You did it amazing, Pablo. " You jump in his arms, excited about the victory.
"Did you see that assist?" He asks happily, arms hugging you tightly. "Thank you for coming."
Pablo and you became closer after the last 14th of February. You two became what your sisters are.
Aurora and your sister keep telling you that Pablo likes you as more than a friend. You prefer to let him tell you that and don't make yourself the fool.
"Of course I was coming. My boy is in the first team. I can't lose this."
My boy
Pablo loves it when you call him that. You're very special. The way you take care of him, motivate him to be better. In less than a year, you became his number one supporter.
"I think I'm allowed to eat something I shouldn't just tonight. Want to do that with me?" He grabs your hand and walks with you back to Pedri.
"Hola, long time no see," Pedri jokes with you. He knows about Pablo's crush on you and takes every opportunity to make it notice. "Did you enjoy the game?"
"I did, I'm happy you guys got assists today." You high-five Pedri. Pablo can't help the big smile he has.
To all the people around you it was obvious the connection you two have. They just need to look at Pablo's eyed when he's talking about you or talking to you.
"The eyes never lie." That's what his mother says.
Pedri drop the two of you to a restaurant. Asking Pablo to be careful and to enjoy the night.
You walk in front of him, that's when he notices that you're wearing the shirt he gave you. The one he used to play for the first time with the first team.
That number 30 and his name sitting on your back are doing things to him.
"Hello, how many in your party?" The host asks you.
"Two, please."
"You're so lucky. We have a table ready for you."
She guides you to the table. You love the decorations of the place, it was all so cute yet not exorbitant and tacky.
"We have a special Valentine's Day menu for all our couples. I'll leave it here and I'll leave two normal menus in case you want something else."
You can't help but blush at her words. You two aren't a couple, not because you don't want to, but you like the way that sounds.
"So, since you're my valentine's today," Pablo jokes, the smile he has is a teasing one. "Two valentine's day meals?"
"You didn't ask me to be your valentine" you pout, making him laugh.
"Y/n, pretty girl, will you be my valentine?"
He grabs a rose from the little bouquet that's making decoration in the wall next to him. He offers the rose to you with a big smile.
"I'll have to think about it, Mister Gavi." You take the rose, smelling it.
"What about now?" He steals another two roses, giving them to your now small bouquet. "Will you be now?"
"Yes." You grab his hand and intertwine your fingers with him. "That means you're buying me dessert."
He laughs, not letting your hand go. He nods at you, noticing how you're looking at your hands. He brings your hand closer to his mouth, giving it a kiss.
"I'll get you anything you want."
The little interaction was interrupted by the waitress. You both order the valentine's day meal.
Dinner was good. You both laughed with stories from the dressing room. He was spilling all the things that happened today.
"There's a park like a block away. Would you like to walk for a little while before I drop you home?"
"That would be nice. Maybe my pants will fit me again." You both laugh at that.
Once you're out of the restaurant and near the park, your hands find his again. You smile at the thought of him wanting more than just friendship.
After all, Aurora and your sister were sure of it. But what if it wasn't like that? What if he's just a very affectionate friend?
Friends held hands? Yes, they do.
Friends support each other? Yes.
Friends take each other out to eat on valentine's day? ... maybe?
The park has these rose tunnels. They were beautiful and very romantic. The way the little light was enough and gave this romantic vibe to the people walking in.
"What's on your mind? Pretty girl." He stops, noticing how you're lost in your thoughts.
Do you want to ruin the night with the question that's burning your brain? Do you want to ruin the friendship by letting your mind run crazy?
You look at him, worried frown on his face. "Tell me, maybe I can help you?" The way his hands are now on your waist, bringing you closer to him.
You're not sure if you should tell him. You're not ready for his answer. You don't want to end the day crying in your room.
"I'm just thinking." You whisper.
"About?"
"Us." You confess.
His grip is stronger, not hurting you, but enough for you to notice the sudden change.
"What about us?" He whispers. He's scared, scared of you telling him that you only like him as a friend. Scared of losing you.
"Pablo, I like you." You say. Lips quivering.
He's internally screaming, making the best work of his life by keeping that famous frown.
You wait for him to say something, eyes glued to each other. As the seconds pass, you feel your heart breaking. He doesn't like you that way.
But how wrong you're, his mind is working a thousand miles per hour. Not sure how to tell you that he likes you too without sounding too crazy.
Your hands move from his shoulders to his hands, moving them away from you. You want to go home and cry yourself to sleep.
That action makes him go back to reality. He notices your tearful eyes. "Wait, no."
"No, it's okay. I can take a cab home. Don't worry."
You decided to leave, not wanting for him to see you cry. But the grip on your arm stops you. "Wait, Y/n."
"No, Pablo. It's okay, I just want to go home." You remove his hand from your arm, walking away from him.
"Can you let me say what I have to say?" He grabs your arm again. He needs to say it.
"You don't have to say anything, I know."
"No, you don't, shit you don't." His hands go back to your waist. "You don't know because I've been a stupid kid who doesn't know any better, I like you too, maybe too much for me to feel comfortable saying it."
You want to say something, but he keeps rambling.
"And you have no idea, joder. The way you look at me with those beautiful shiny eyes and the way you smile or laugh even at my bad jokes." He laughs, making you laugh. "The way my name looks on your back is making me think things I shouldn't but things I only think about you. And the way you know my sister and she loves you and my mom. Gosh, my mom. "
"What about your mom?" You ask confused.
"She told me to confess because a girl like you won't come twice in a lifetime." He hugs you, bringing you closer to him. You lock your arms behind his neck. "I like you more than you think. I was just too scare to say it before."
"I'm head over heels with everything you just said, but can you please shut up and kiss me?" You smile, making him chuckle.
His hand goes to the back of your neck, bringing you closer. The kiss is everything you ever dreamed of. All those nights dreaming about it now coming true.
He smiles into the kiss. Happy that the girl he always had a crush on, the sister of his sister's best friend, the one Aurora always tried to bring closer because they were the same age.
"Se mi novia." (Be my girlfriend) He let's out, not thinking much about it. "I can't let another day pass without making you my girlfriend." You nod, kissing him again.
"Te prometo que voy a hacer algo mejor que esto, pero hoy quiero volver a casa y que todos sepan que eres mía." (I promise that I'm doing something better than this, but tonight I just want to go back home and let all my family know you're mine.)
You press your forehead to his, enjoying the moment. He was yours, and you were his. That's all you need to know.
February 2022
"Pablo, stop it." You say, morning voice making Pablo chuckle. He continue with the kisses on your neck and back. "Amor, five minutes more."
"You asked me for five minutes like twenty minutes ago."
You open your eyes, room kinda dark thanks to the curtains. The big mirror he has reflecting you with his arms around you.
"Feliz aniversario, preciosa mía." (happy anniversary) he kiss your earlobe. "if you weren't such a sleepy head I would have given you a good morning gift but now I'm thinking of breakfasts." he tease you. Making you blush at the thought of your last night actions.
You turn to face him, smirk on his face. "Feliz aniversario, ojitos lindos." You kiss his lips, your hands caressing his chest. "I'm hungry too."
He laughs, kissing you again. He push you lightly, getting on top of you while he deepens the kiss.
He loves the way you whimper every time he touch you. Every sound, every little jump your body gives. You are his.
"Pablo, I have class in an hour." You remind him. His head buried between you neck. "and I am hungry, amor."
You both get up from bed, quickly running to the bathroom to do your routine and to force Pablo to do the one you taught him to keep his skin clean.
"Oye, I forgot my bag in the truck of my car, can you please help me and bring it? I'll make us some pancakes."
"Yes sir." You laugh, walking to the garage to open the truck. "Oh my god." You find five designer bags. All of them with red bows. "Pablo!"
He smiles when he heards you calling his name. He knows you've been stressing about classes, having barely any sleep.
He also knows you don't like when he spoils you, you're shy about it, telling him that you're more than spoiled with him letting you live with him and not allowing you to pay any bill or anything.
"Amor, what is all this?" You walk inside with the five bags. He smirk, serving the first pancake on the plate.
"A little something for my reina."
"Pablo, I can't. Amor this is too much." You check the first bag. It's a beautiful Hermes blanket you save on Pinterest. "Amor, this cost more than my tuition."
"Not at all." he laughs, the way you look at the blanket with such eyes. The shiny eyes he loves. "Keep looking."
"Dios mio, how?"
He smirks, he had to get your friends help to pick some things like colors or sizes. Like the bag you have in your hands, he knew you wanted it, but you never decided in a color of your preference.
Your eyes land on the red and gold bag. Cartier. You told him once a few months back that you wanted to match with him on something.
You gifted him a bracelet, he wears it everywhere he goes, is his favorite piece of jewelry.
But you wanted something else to match him. You remember that you wanted a P inicial.
His hands on your waist make you go back to reality, it was two necklaces, one with your initial and one with his and a little six.
"We can match now." he whispers in your ear, kissing your neck. "want me to put it in you?"
You nod, happy that he remembered something so small. You feel the tears in your eyes and he lock the necklace in place.
"Pablo." You turn to him, hugging his torso and crying in his chest. "te amo, you're so special."
He caress your back, kissing your head. "You're my baby, my reina, and I'm always going to give you everything you want."
"But I can't give you the same. And that make me feel bad for you, you're so special and I want to spoil you too."
"shhhh. You're special too, you spoil me a lot. You take care of me, you cook for me, you help me when I'm sick, when I'm tired, you're my biggest fan."
You nod, knowing that even when what you give him is not much. For him it was more than enough.
"Now give me a kiss and let's eat, you have to go to class." he dry your tears and kiss your cheeks and then your lips.
"I don't want to go." You whine. Hugging him again.
"Preciosa, see it this way, our kids will need help with the homework, and the one who will help them is you." he jokes. "that's your motivations".
You laugh, he always knew the right thing to say to make you feel better.
February 2023
"Can you serve me some more juice?" he smiles, kissing your shoulder. "pretty please."
"Pablo, venga hombre que tu te puedes levantar. Deja a la niña comer." (c'mon son. You can get up, let her eat in peace) his dad say. Smacking him in the back of the head.
You laugh at that, but you grab his cup and get up to serve him more juice. You know how crazy he gets for orange juice.
"Listo, now eat." You pass him the juice after taking a sip of it.
"Hey. That's mine." he frowns. Joking with you. "Thank you, preciosa."
You were eating with his parents, they were visiting from Sevilla and wanted to spend time with you two.
Aurora and her boyfriend are with you two. You love spending time with them. Going on double dates with them.
"You want to know what's funny?" Aurora giggles. "your sister and I always talked about going on double dates and now that's she's in Paris. You're the one I'm going on double dates with."
You giggle with her. Your sister moved to Paris to study design. She and Aurora always video chat and text but now that you're with Pablo, Aurora and you were closer. Thing that makes your sister extra happy. Knowing that you're taking care of each other.
"We're going on a hiking adventure today, if you guys want to join we will leave after lunch."
You thank him, explaining that Gavi and you were going on a little museum visit.
Gavi's plan was to take you to a museum, you love art. So to him it was a good idea to have a more calm anniversary and to do something you love and enjoy.
"Y/n, cariño. Can you help me later with the cooking, you're the only one that can get the sauce to its point." Belén asks you, you nod excited. "Thank you, mija."
You love cooking with Belen, she always gave you advice and you improved your cooking with her recepies.
After lunch you all chat for a little, you love his family and the love you as their own. If you ask Belen or Pablo's father, they would tell you that they can see you two going for the long ride.
Belén often asks Pablo about the future. If he ever sees you two in his plans. Pablo would say yes without hesitation. You're the most important person in his life. He knows that.
If someone asks you, you would say the same, you can picture yourself with a family. You can picture yourself walking down the aisle to him.
But you two are young. Too young to think about marriage and a family. You want to live a lot of things with him. Not rush into adulthood.
"Let's go, preciosa." he extends his hand out to you, you take it, thumb caressing his skin.
The drive was calm, he was singing this new song he has on replay. You love when he drives, it suits him so much the driver look.
He like the idea of going to a museum date, he's interested in things people don't know about, this being one of them.
"Look, this one is call El Beso" he says. Teasing tone as he elbow your arm.
"Wow, you know how to read names, babe. Good job." You joke. Making him pout.
Your hands intertwine as you walk around. There was this specific painting that Pablo liked. He was reading about it.
"I want a copy of this at home."
"Yes, it's very pretty."
"Pretty like you." he kiss your cheek. Hugging you while he finish reading about the painting.
You love how easy it is to enjoy things with him, how easy is to love him, to talk with him.
"Te amo, Pablito." You kiss his cheek. Hugging him tight.
"I know. I love you so much too." he kiss your lips. Smiling into the kiss.
February 2024
"Careful big boy." You say, helping him walk upstairs of your home. "Let's slow down, you're running."
He was tired. Tired of always needing help, tired of always looking like a kid who needs to be taken care of, tired of not being able to be the old him.
"Joder, I can't do this anymore." he fall in the bed. He feel like crying. "just leave without me."
You sit next to him. Caressing his hair and letting him cry, you help him with his shoes, taking off his Jordan's.
You grab the glass of water you always have next to you in bed. Bringing it to him, "Amor, drink this."
He does as you told him. Drinking the whole glass, you sit behind him, careful with his legs.
"Come here, amor." You push him down to you. His back stick to your chest. Your hands on his hair, nails caressing his scalp. "I'm not going anywhere, not without you." He sobs again, he's not in his best days and you know it. "shhh, I'm here. You're okay."
You treat him like a baby, you're aware of that, but you don't mind it. He was your baby, your Pablito, he was yours and you love taking care of him.
"Today my friend Jessica made cookies." You began telling him about your day to distract him. "and they're so good, I saved you one."
His sobs are more calm now. His breathing still very accelerated and that worries you.
"Also, today on this class, remember the one you convince me to take?" You kiss his hair. Hands caressing his arms up and down. He nods at your question. "Well they asked us today to describe something about our partner or someone we love, like when we knew we loved them."
He's calming down, paying attention to your words. You know how to calm him down, how to take his mind out of his worried state.
"And I talked about that nigh in the park. When you asked me to be your girlfriend." You giggle, remembering how happy you were that night. "I can't forget the words you told me. How your mom told you to confess your feeling for me, because a girl like me happens once in a lifetime."
"That's true." he whispers.
"I knew I loved you because you were so honest with me, you were so straight with your words. How you told me you will give me anything I want. And you do."
"Even when you told me that I spoil you too much." he chuckle.
"And I want you to know how in love I am with you, Pablo. You're my love." You kiss his earlobe, then his head. "do you know that?"
"I know, and I love you so much too. I'm in love with you too."
"So don't ever think just because of your ACL or any other injury I'll leave you behind. Pablo I'm with you for the long ride." You hug him, his hands find yours and intertwine them. "Now, what if we both stay home and I prepare some nice dinner or better, we can order McDonald's."
You see his reflection, he's smiling like crazy, even with red eyes and tearful cheeks he looks like an angel.
"Te amo. You're the love of my life."
"And you're the love of my life." You kiss his head again. "and I know that in every life time we will be together."
"Even as worms?" he tease you.
"Even as worms, mi amor."
You enjoy a night at home with him, telling stories and watching movies that you both later comment.
That's what you enjoy the most, how every moment is a special moment, even the smallest ones.
"Oye, kiddo." You call.
He lift his eyes from his ice-cream. Attention all on you.
"Te amo." You get closer to kiss him. "and I always will."
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steveseddie · 26 days
Text
shootin’ hoops
steddie | rated: t | cw: none | 4,6k | tags: eddie munson lives, but his clumsy ass gets hurt, worried steve, minor injuries, sharing clothes, first kiss
for my stficbingo prompt: “‘m just tired.”
click here to read on ao3
***
Eddie has always known basketball is evil. 
Over the years, he’s been smacked in the back of the head by plenty of basketballs, or smacked elsewhere by the dumb jocks that play the game. Only a few weeks ago, he was being chased by Jason Carver and his band of basketball-playing goons. 
So, basketball. Evil.
Eddie knew this, and somehow, he still agreed to “shoot hoops” with Steve Harrington.
Him! Eddie Munson! Agreeing to play the stupid game where you toss balls into laundry baskets! All because of his stupid crush on a boy.
If any of his friends could see him now, they would kick him out of the band and dethrone him as their Hellfire leader. 
Well, no. First, they would laugh at Eddie- currently starfished on the Harringtons’ basketball court having knocking himself out after the ball he threw missed the hoop completely, slammed against the board and bounced back straight into Eddie’s face.
Then and only then, after laughing themselves into a coughing fit at Eddie’s expense, would they kick him out and dethrone him. Can’t have your fearless leader succumbing to forced conformity or whatever. 
Luckily for Eddie, there’s no one here to witness how the mighty have fallen. 
Well. No one but Steve, the guy he’s pretty sure he’s in love with which is fucking great.
When he agreed to play, after Steve pleaded, pouted and hit Eddie with those deadly puppy eyes, he told himself it wouldn’t be so bad. He’d get to ogle Steve in his tiny little shorts, trick Steve into putting his hands on him to show him the right way to throw a ball and maybe even score a goal and shit and get a proud grin from Steve, maybe even a high five or a hug. 
But all Eddie has managed so far is to sweat through his clothes (Steve’s clothes actually- a pair of basketball shorts and an old Hawkins High swim meet shirt because the long sleeve and the ripped jeans Eddie showed up in weren’t basketball appropriate) and embarrass himself by getting hit square in the face by an evil basketball, probably giving himself a concussion in the process. 
Because- fucking ouch! His head is pounding right now.
Through the ringing in his ears, he hears Steve’s sneakers squeak against the court as he jogs towards him. “Eddie, Jesus Christ!” He gasps, dropping to his knees next to him. “Fuck, man, are you okay?” 
Eddie groans when he hears the concern in Steve’s voice. Fuck, this is so embarrassing. Eddie knows he’s flushing bright red and it’s not because of the midday sun beating down on them. 
“Eddie, come on. Talk to me, man,” Steve urges, slightly shaking Eddie’s shoulder.
“Just leave me here to die,” Eddie mumbles, keeping his eyes tightly shut, partly because moving his face hurts, but also because he doesn’t want to look at Steve right now. 
Steve huffs, shaking Eddie’s shoulder a little more insistently. “Nope, no way. I didn’t drag your ass back from the Upside Down to let you die here. Sit up, come on.” 
He tugs on Eddie’s arm, leaving him no choice but to sit up. Eddie hugs his knees against his chest, still not opening his eyes. He feels one of Steve’s hands settle on his back, holding him up in that position. 
“Good, that’s good,” Steve encourages, rubbing his hand up and down Eddie’s back. Because of that touch, Eddie can feel the flush spreading all the way up to his ears. He squeezes his eyes even tighter, even if it makes his face hurt, but Steve isn’t having it. “Now open your eyes for me.”
Eddie shakes his head, which is a terrible idea because it sends flashes of pain through his head, all the way down to his neck. 
“Come on, Eds, let me look at you,” Steve purrs in a sweet voice that settles deep in Eddie’s lower stomach. Then Steve’s other hand cups his cheek, gently turning his face towards him. “Please,” he says, stroking his thumb over Eddie’s cheek.
And if there’s one thing that today proved is that Eddie can’t say no to a pleading Steve. It’s what got him in this mess in the first place. 
So his eyes flutter open. He has to blink a few times to get rid of the blurriness at the edges of his vision but even then it’s hard to miss Steve’s big, worried eyes when they’re right in front of him. 
“There he is,” Steve exhales softly, the corner of his mouth lifting in a relieved half-smile. “Hi.” 
“H-hey,” Eddie stammers out. His cheeks burn even brighter when he realizes how close their faces are. Steve’s hand rubbing Eddie’s back soothingly while the other one is still cupping his jaw certainly don’t help. 
“Are you okay?” 
Eddie scoffs. “Oh, I’m great! Just wishing the Upside Down would open up and swallow me whole so I can like, die of embarrassment there,” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm. Steve makes an exasperated noise, either because he didn’t get a real answer to his question or because it’s too soon for Eddie to be joking about dying in the Upside Down. Eddie sighs, waving a hand through the air dismissively. “I’m fine, man, just hurt.” 
“Where does it hurt?” 
“My dignity.”
This time the joke does land and it makes Steve snicker. “Since when do you have any?” 
“Ouch. Kicking a man while he’s down, Harrington? Shame on you,” Eddie says with a laugh, which is quickly followed by a wince. “Shit, okay, maybe my dignity isn’t the only thing hurting. My whole head is fucking pounding, I think I hit it against the ground after the ball knocked me down.” 
Steve’s face pulls into a frown and the hand that was on Eddie’s back moves to the back of his head. “You’re not bleeding, thank God, but you could still have a concussion.”
“Of fucking course,” Eddie mutters, resting his head on his knees.
“We can get you something cold or I can drive you to the ER if you’d rather get checked out.”
Eddie starts to shake his head and gets dizzy so he aborts the movement, raising his hand to wave Steve off instead. “No, no ER. Some frozen peas will do the trick, good sir.”
Steve’s lips press into a thin line. “Okay, but if you start talking nonsense, I’m taking you there. I don’t care if you don’t want me to or not.”
Eddie gives him a lazy smirk. “How will you know I’m talking nonsense because of the concussion and not because I’m, you know, me.” 
“I know your kind of nonsense, Munson,” he says with a snort. The words sound almost fond to Eddie’s ears. “Now, let’s get you inside. I’m gonna help you up. Slowly, okay? You might feel dizzy or even like you’re going to throw up so- careful.”
Eddie squints at Steve. “You sure know a shitload about concussions, Harrington.” 
Steve makes a face. “That’s because I’ve had like, three. And surprisingly enough only one of them was Upside Down related.”
“Damn, dude.”
“Yeah, but at least you know I’ll take good care of you.” Steve shrugs. “Okay, come on.”
He stands up in one swift movement and offers both of his hands to Eddie, who grabs them and lets himself be pulled to his feet. As soon as he stands, his vision goes black and he sways forward. He would’ve face-planted if Steve didn’t catch him by his elbows.
“Woah, I got you,” he tells him, breath ghosting over Eddie’s face.
“Just need a minute,” Eddie mumbles, squeezing his eyes, waiting for the world to stop spinning. 
“Take your time,” Steve says, rubbing his thumbs over Eddie’s forearms, which only makes him feel more dizzy. 
When he opens his eyes, Steve’s face is right there again and he gets lost in his hazel eyes for a few more seconds before he feels ready to move. “Okay, I’m good.”
Steve nods, letting go of his arms but staying close to Eddie as he starts walking towards the house, just in case. They walk past the evil basketball and Eddie glares at it. He thinks about kicking it, just to give it a taste of its own medicine, but knowing his luck, the ball would probably bounce against the wall and hit Eddie again, so he just ignores it. 
In the kitchen, Steve heads for the freezer while Eddie flops down on a chair and folds his arms over the table, letting his head rest over them.
He jumps when he suddenly feels something cold press against the back of his head. “Motherfucker!” When he looks up, Steve is giving him a sheepish smile and holding a bag of frozen peas in his hand. “Dick,” Eddie says, snatching the peas from his hand and pressing them against the back of his head. He still flinches, but at least he’s prepared this time. 
“Is that better?” 
Eddie makes a noncommittal sound. The cold helps with the throbbing, but his head still feels like it was put through the wringer.
“Do you think you’ll be okay if I take a quick shower?” Steve asks. Eddie glances at him, who’s eyeing him back warily and biting his lip, probably worried about leaving him unsupervised. 
“I think I’ll live, man,” Eddie says with a snort.  
“Okay. I’ll be right back.” He stands up to leave but hesitates. “Call if you need anything.” 
Eddie can’t help it, he smirks up at him. “You’re gonna come to my rescue dripping wet and wearing nothing but a towel? I might call you just to see that.” 
Steve’s cheeks flare the brightest Eddie’s ever seen. “Never mind, you can die,” he says with no heat at all before turning around and leaving Eddie alone in the kitchen. 
This time when Eddie laughs it doesn’t make his head hurt nearly as much, which means that the frozen peas might be helping. He presses the bag against his face next, trying to dull the throbbing there as well. He sits there at the kitchen table, moving the frozen peas back and forth from his face to the back of his head until he starts getting tired and his eyelids start feeling a little heavy. 
He drops his head on his arms again and instantly starts to doze off. Eddie knows he shouldn’t, not if he has a concussion, but he’s tired, and taking a nap right now sounds so good-
But just as he’s about to, Steve’s voice drags him away from the brink of sleep. “Eddie, hey, Eds.” 
Eddie burrows further into his arms, trying to ignore Steve who shakes his shoulder a little frantically. “Eddie?” 
“I’m fine,” Eddie mutters, twisting his head to the side, towards Steve, but keeping his eyes closed. “‘m just tired. Want to take a nap.”
“Uh, yeah, no. No sleeping while concussed,” Steve says in that bitchy tone of his. “Eds, come on.” When Eddie doesn’t respond, Steve nearly growls. “Eddie Munson, I will drag your ass to the ER if you don’t open your eyes right now.” 
“Fuck, you’re bossy,” Eddie huffs, but he opens his eyes, giving Steve a look that’s supposed to say happy?
Steve’s lips press into a thin line. “Well, sorry for not wanting you to die on me again.”
It’s probably not Steve’s intention, but Eddie immediately feels bad. He might not remember a lot of what happened after the hell bats attacked him, but he knows that at some point his heart stopped beating from all the blood he lost and Steve had to perform CPR on him to bring him back. And unlike Eddie, he probably remembers everything about it. It’s not fair that Eddie is making him relive that kind of worry right now. 
So he forces his head up, blinking his eyes a few times so they adjust and apologizes. “Sorry.”
Steve’s face softens almost immediately and he waves Eddie off with a shake of his head. Droplets of water hit Eddie’s face and he notices that Steve’s hair is wet, water steadily dripping to the floor from the few strands that hang over his eyes. Eddie has seen Steve after a shower before but he always dries and styles his hair before coming out of the bathroom which means he skipped his hair routine today, probably so he wouldn’t have to leave Eddie alone longer than necessary. 
“How’s the head?” Steve asks, brushing his hair back with a hand. 
“Hurts but the peas are helping. Or they were. I don’t know where they are now.” Eddie frowns when he realizes he can no longer feel them against the back of his head, they must have fallen to the floor when he started to doze off. Oh well. “How was the shower?” 
Steve snorts. “Quick,” he says. “Do you wanna take one?” 
Eddie wrinkles his nose. “I want to but there’s a big chance that I will fall in the shower and crack my head open if I do.” 
He almost wants to risk it just to get rid of some of the sweat, but then he thinks about falling in the shower and Steve barging in to help him while he’s naked on the floor and quickly changes his mind. There’s only so much embarrassment he can take in a day. 
Steve nods in understanding. “Maybe later then.” He jerks his head toward the door that leads to the living room. “Do you want to move to the couch? Just because you can’t take a nap doesn’t mean you can’t be comfortable.” 
“Sure, man.” 
When Steve stands up, Eddie’s eyes end up at the same level as his shirt. Which, thanks to the familiar Black Sabbath logo, Eddie realizes is actually his.
“Is that my shirt?” Eddie asks even if he knows the answer. Steve would never own a Black Sabbath shirt, not to mention Eddie remembers turning his room upside down looking for his the other day only to give up when he couldn’t find it- because it was at Steve’s house apparently. 
Steve looks down at himself and his eyes widen like he’s only realizing now that he’s wearing it. 
“Oh, um, yeah, you left it here the other day. I washed it and left it in my closet to like, give it back to you, but I guess I accidentally grabbed it just now,” Steve explains, running his hand through his hair a few times. 
“Yeah, okay,” Eddie says, big eyes staring up at Steve in his goddamned shirt. 
“Do you- do you want it back?” 
Eddie shakes his head. “Nah, man. It looks better on you.” And it’s true- Steve looks good in Eddie’s clothes. “Besides, it’s only fair,” he adds, gesturing down at himself, still wearing Steve’s swim meet shirt and old basketball shorts. 
Steve chuckles, ducking his head and saying a little shyly, “Well, those look good on you too.” 
Eddie twirls some hair around his finger and tugs it in front of his face to hide his blush. He’s ridiculously bad at accepting compliments, especially when they come from Steve.“
“Okay,” Steve says, remembering why he stood up in the first place. “Come on, to the couch.” 
Standing up doesn’t make Eddie as dizzy this time and he manages to stay on his feet without Steve’s help. Slowly, he drags his feet to the living room and then flops down on the couch, tilting sideways until his head comes in contact with the cushions. 
“No sleeping,” Steve grumbles when he sees Eddie’s eyes start to slip shut. 
“I’m not!” Eddie says, his eyes flying open and finding Steve raising an eyebrow at him. “Okay, maybe I am, but you gotta help me stay awake, man. Put on a movie or something.” 
With a frown, Steve says, “I don’t think you should be staring at screens or any bright lights right now.” Then he perks up. “Wait, I have an idea!” 
And then, without explaining any further, he leaves. 
In his absence, Eddie sighs and burrows his head deeper into the cushions, but before he can even think of taking a nap, Steve comes back. 
“I think I might be having like a concussion-induced hallucination because there’s no way that you, Steve Harrington, actually own a copy of The Fellowship of the Ring,” Eddie says when he sees the worn paperback that Steve is holding in his hand. 
Steve glances down at it. “It’s actually Dustin’s, man. Kid gave it to me forever ago, but I never read it. It’s not really my thing, but it’s yours.”
“It most definitely is, Stevie boy,” Eddie says, “but I don’t think reading will help my head any more than staring into a screen.”
“You won’t be reading, Eds. I’ll read to you,” Steve says with a shrug. “Now, lift your head.” 
Eddie pushes himself from his lying down position so Steve can sit next to him, but before he can sit upright, Steve tsks and pushes his head back down so it’s resting on his lap, the right side of his face coming in contact with the fabric of Steve’s sweatpants. 
Eddie is too stunned to protest or move, but he does subtly pinch himself, a little suspicious that he might’ve slipped into some kind of concussion dream.
With one of his hands, Steve holds the book open and the other finds its way to Eddie’s hair. He’d tied it up in a bun when they started playing, but it’s mostly undone by now. Steve carefully tugs on his hair tie, freeing the rest, so he can run his fingers through the curls.
It sends shivers down Eddie’s spine, makes him feel like he’s going to melt through the couch and into a puddle on the floor. He can’t stop the whiny noise that slips through his lips. 
Steve’s hand freezes. “Did I hurt you?
Embarrassed, Eddie just shakes his head no.
“So this is okay?” Steve asks, scratching his scalp. Eddie just nods, afraid that if he opens his mouth some other embarrassing noise will slip out.
Eddie can hear the smile in his voice when he says, “Good.”
After that, Steve clears his throat and starts reading. 
Eddie quickly realizes that Steve didn’t think his plan through- he heavily underestimated how soothing his voice is, how comfortable his thigh is and how good his hand feels in Eddie’s hair. 
Within minutes, Eddie feels himself starting to doze off again, but before he can, Steve jostles his thigh, the movement waking Eddie up.
“Hey, talk to me so I know you didn’t die.”
Eddie groans, pinching Steve’s leg. “I hate you.”
Steve chuckles softly. “That’ll do.” 
After that Eddie starts to focus on the words that Steve is reading and it makes it a little easier to stay awake, mostly because he can’t help but correct Steve when he starts butchering the names of the characters and locations in ways that Eddie can’t begin to comprehend. It’s not until a snigger slips past Steve’s lips when Eddie tells him that it’s “Bilbo, Steve! Not Bobbin!” that Eddie realizes he must be doing it on purpose so that Eddie will talk to him. 
After a while, Eddie stops feeling sleepy and his head stops hurting as much so, instead of just correcting Steve’s pronunciation, he offers commentary about the book here and there and quotes the book as Steve reads it, which earns him a fond nerd and a playful tug on his hair.
After a few chapters, Steve complains about his voice getting tired, but Eddie isn’t having it, he wants to listen to Steve read some more. 
“You owe me, man,” Eddie says.
Steve snorts. “Me? I’m nursing you back to health, why do I owe you?” 
“Because you made me play with you!”
Eddie can hear Steve’s eye roll. “I didn’t, you could’ve easily said no, Eddie.”
It’s Eddie’s turn to snort because the idea of him saying no to Steve is completely ridiculous. Before he realizes what he’s doing, he blurts out, “Nothing easy about saying no to the guy you have a crush on.” 
Silence falls over them. Steve drops the book on the couch. His other hand freezes in Eddie’s hair. 
“What?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
Eddie realizes what he just said and his whole body goes rigid. Oh shit, oh fuck.
“Nothing,” he says meekly. 
“No, you said-”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Yes, you did, Eddie,” Steve says, annoyed. Annoyed at him. Eddie bites down on a whimper- this is his worst nightmare, the thing that stopped him in his tracks every time he so much as considered telling Steve how he felt. Suddenly, he can’t keep his head on Steve’s thigh, he can’t bear to have his fingers in his hair. Eddie sits up abruptly, his vision swims, he feels sick. 
“I, I have a concussion, I don’t know what I’m saying,” Eddie mutters, sitting on the far end of the couch, away from Steve.
“Eddie-”
“Steve, please just- Ignore it, please,” Eddie pleads, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his hands coming up to cover his face. 
“I can’t ignore it-”
Of course he can’t. Your friend having a crush on you isn’t something you can just ignore. God, Eddie really fucked up. 
“Fuck.” He squeezes his palms against his eyes until they hurt. 
The couch dips as Steve moves- is he leaving? Eddie’s heart falls as he wonders, but a moment later, Steve is sitting right next to him, their thighs touching and their arms brushing.
“Eddie, I don’t want to ignore it,” Steve says, and his voice is unbearably soft. He doesn’t sound annoyed anymore, maybe he wasn’t annoyed at all, maybe there’s some truth to what people say about Eddie being dramatic.
“Why?” Eddie asks warily, but God help him, also slightly hopeful. 
Steve scoots even closer, bumping their shoulders together. “The guy I’ve liked for weeks just said he has a crush on me, why would I want to ignore that?”
The words have Eddie whipping his head back to stare at Steve so fast that he goes dizzy. His face pulls into a grimace. “Shit.” 
“You okay?”
Eddie waves him off. “Did you just say you like me? Because if you didn’t, maybe I do need to go to the ER because I’m hearing things,” he says, his wide eyes blinking at Steve.
He gives Eddie a sweet smile. “I did say that. I do like you.”
His eyes go even wider. “Holy shit.”
“Do you like me?” Steve asks, a little shy. “Or was that just the concussion talking?”
A nearly hysterical laugh tumbles over Eddie’s lips. “No, nope, definitely me. Maybe the concussion made me say it, and for a moment there I thought I fucked up, but I meant it, Steve, I like you so much that I ignored everything I stand for to fucking shoot hoops with you. I don’t even care that I got a concussion because of it!”
Instead of smiling like Eddie expects him to, Steve seems troubled. Eddie wonders if maybe he said too much. “What?”
“I know I probably shouldn’t kiss you while you have a concussion,” Steve says, biting his bottom lip and having the nerve to glance at Eddie’s mouth. “But I really want to.”
Eddie’s stomach flip flops and he needs a few seconds to remember how to form words because Steve wants to kiss him! “Ever heard of the expression kiss it better?” He asks, the corners of his mouth pulling up in a smirk.
Steve chuckles. “I don’t think it applies here,” he says, but Eddie can’t help but notice how he’s started leaning in.
“We can still try,” Eddie says, leaning in too, knowing that Steve is about to break. He thinks back on the puppy dog eyes and the pouty lips he gave Eddie when he asked him to play basketball with him and decides to give it a try, batting his eyelashes at Steve and sticking his bottom lip out. “I really want you to kiss me, Steve.”
Steve’s eyes go wide and his breath leaves him in a whoosh, Eddie can feel it against his face. “Fuck, you were right.”
“About?”
“Nothing easy about saying no to the guy you have a crush on,” Steve says, echoing Eddie’s words. 
Eddie starts to laugh, but the sound dies in his throat when Steve cups his cheeks and closes the distance between them, pressing their mouths together. Eddie whines instead, low in his throat, his arms wrapping around Steve’s shoulders and sinking them both back onto the couch. They’re touching in so many places, but Eddie wants more, so he opens his mouth and hopes that Steve takes the invitation. 
And he does- licking the roof of Eddie’s mouth, and angling his head to kiss him deeper. And it’s so good, it’s like nothing Eddie has ever felt, and for a moment, he actually worries that he knocked himself out on the court earlier and this is just some elaborate coma dream. 
But Steve feels so real- his lips against his, his shoulders under Eddie’s hands, the sinful noises that he keeps making. 
Eddie swings his leg over Steve’s lap, straddling him and breaking the kiss for the first time so that he can grin down at him. 
“I think we found another way to make sure I don’t fall asleep,” he says, eyes roaming over Steve- his red bitten lips stretched into a dopey grin, his hooded eyes that keep darting to Eddie’s mouth, the rise and fall of his chest, the exposed collarbone thanks to how worn the collar of Eddie’s shirt is, the mole-covered skin there that’s just begging to be kissed, bitten, marked up. 
“I changed my mind,” Eddie says, picturing what a love bite on Steve’s chest would look like and wanting to get on with it.
Steve’s hands freeze where they came to rest on Eddie’s thighs, his pinkie brushing against the bare skin after his shorts rode up. 
“Are you okay? Does it hurt? Are you dizzy?” He asks, earnest eyes darting over Eddie’s face, looking for any sign that he’s in pain. 
“Not about this,” Eddie says with a little shake of his head that makes his bangs fall over his eyes. He tugs the collar of Steve’s shirt down- his shirt. “I changed my mind about wanting my shirt back.”
Steve’s eyebrows shoot up, his lips tugging up in a smirk. “Well,” he says, voice dropping low, his fingers teasing the hem of the shorts that Eddie is wearing. “As long as you give me my clothes back too.”
Eddie’s heart stutters, warmth pooling low in his stomach. “It’s only fair.” Then he remembers something else. “You know, I could use that shower that I passed on earlier.” 
Steve raises his eyebrow. 
“But I still feel a little dizzy,” Eddie says, putting the back of his hand against his forehead like a fainting maid, waggling his eyebrows at the same time. “Think you can give me a hand?” 
Steve grins. “Yeah, I can do that.”
They both try to stand up at the same time, and Steve almost sends Eddie toppling to the floor but luckily manages to catch him before Eddie ends up with another concussion. 
After that, they make their way upstairs, to Steve’s bathroom, kissing and touching and leaving a trail of clothes behind them. 
Right before Steve closes the bathroom door, Eddie’s eyes catch the basketball shorts Steve just took off of him, discarded on the hallway floor and he thinks- 
Maybe basketball isn’t so evil after all. 
339 notes · View notes
mirkoluvs · 10 months
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★ GETTING INTO AN ARGUMENT WITH MHA CHARACTERS (PT. 1)
characters: midoriya, bakugo, todoroki
genre: angst !!
notes: two parter !! just a note that my request box is still open !! love u all <3
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izuku midoriya
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- he always tries his hardest to avoid arguments at any cost, but of course, it’s only natural for them to happen within relationships.
- you always looked out for him like he looked out for you, but for some reason he would never listen as he was so determined to living up to people’s ideals.
- so when you saw him randomly phasing out during the middle of a group conversation with the rest of your class, you tapped his hand, causing him to shake out of his trance. you signed for him to follow you as you got up and walked over to a more private area of the dorms.
“is there something wrong?”, he asked. looking at his features, you could see dark circles coming in. sighing you took his hand into yours, holding it before looking at him. “izuku you know how much i love you, and how much i look out for you and everything. i just- do you think you can maybe tone it down with all the training…?”, you hesitantly asked, head hanging low. you could hear izuku sigh as he rubbed a hand over his face. “y/n, you know i cant”, he started, but you cut him off before he could go on his usual rant. “i just don’t get why. i mean, you’re doing all of this but you’re literally draining yourself while doing it which means you aren’t giving it your best”, you tried to reason, looking back at him. he scoffed underneath his breath at your words. “are you implying that i’m not putting in enough effort or something?”, he asked, his tone starting to become a bit defensive. your eyes narrowed at his words, shaking your head in denial and confusion. “no, that’s not- why are you twisting my words right now? i’m just trying to look out for you-“, “you aren’t my mom, y/n! just give it a rest! i know my own limits, i know when to stop. i’m here to become a hero if you somehow forgot, so just quit getting on me about rest and things like that, okay?!”, he quickly interrupted you. his words left your throat dry, your head lowering to the ground as you subtly nodded your head, sucking on your bottom lip. he quickly took notice at your body language and realized the harshness of his words. “baby, wait- that’s not how i wanted that to come out. i just-“, he started, but you cut him off, shaking your head. “no. i get it. it’s fine. forget i said anything”, you quietly responded, your voice somewhat cracking as you walked away, his hand just missing your wrist as he watched you walk off. he cursed at himself underneath his breath, shame taking over.
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katsuki bakugo
- it wasn’t uncommon to get in arguments with katsuki considering how stubborn both of you were, but none of them were ever really serious.
- something everyone knows about him is that his number one goal was to become the number one hero, and he never let himself get distracted from that.
- turns out, he was serious about not getting distracted, because due to him training, he somehow managed to forget your one year anniversary all day.
- that’s why when he knocked on your dorm room door and didn’t hear anything back, he was a bit confused.
“y/n, it’s me. open up”, he muttered, knocking on your door again. silence. just when he was about to knock again, the door slightly cracked open. “what the hell are you doing?”, he asked, confused at your behavior. “you cant be fucking serious katsuki”, you scoffed. you pulled him into your room before slamming the door shut behind you, turning to look at him. “what are you so upset about?”, he asked, slightly annoyed at your big mood change. “you really forgot our one year anniversary…?”, you asked, your voice somewhat cracking as you leaned back against the door. his eyes widened. he forgot your anniversary. he got too caught up in his training and hero-related activities that it completely slipped his mind, but once again, his pride and stubbornness was too strong to let him apologize so easily. “is it really that big of a deal?”, he muttered, cocking his head to the side. your eyes widened at his words, anger rushing through your veins. “ok, i get you don’t like to admit when you’re wrong and shit, but can you at LEAST apologize for forgetting?!”, you slightly raised your voice, moving closer towards him. he scoffed under his breath, anger quickly taking over him as well. “it’s just a year, what the hell is so special about that?! it’s not my fault you wanna make everything such a big damn deal”, he fought back. your heart dropped at his words. was this really how he saw your whole relationship? “wow. nice to know how much this means to you katsuki”, you muttered. he cursed under his breath as he watched you start to fall into a sad state. “talk to me when you calm down”, you told him quietly, leaving him alone in your own room as you just wanted to be away from him at the moment. once the door shut he groaned, rubbing his hands across his face as he cursed at himself for being so reckless with his words.
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shoto todoroki
- it obviously took him a while to become so comfortable and open around you considering his past, but he managed to do it all for you
- although he was a lot better at being open with you and actually talking things out than he was before, he still struggled every now and then with it.
- and it just so happened that this was one of those days, but it was worse than usual.
- shoto had told you he was going to his house for the day and you knew that usually he’d end up returning in not as good as a mood as before, but when he came back today, he seemed really pissed.
“sho? is everything okay?”, you asked, confused and concerned as to why he came back with such an agitated expression on his face. “fine”, he muttered quickly under his breath, kicking his shoes off as he placed them neatly in a cubby. “clearly not… something happened when you went to visit, right?”, you questioned. it wasn’t uncommon for him to be annoyed in some sort when returning from his residence, but he was never this annoyed. “i told you it’s fine”, he grumbled again. you sighed as you followed close behind him as he took the elevator up to his dorm, where you both usually hung out in together. the elevator ride up was awkwardly silent, you could hear a pin drop even. once the elevator stopped, you both walked out, you following behind him. the silence continued to linger for longer, to the point where it was pissing you off a bit. “shoto, seriously. cant you just talk to me a little bit? i’m not asking you to give me every single detail, i just wanna know if your okay”, you explained, grabbing them hem of his sleeve to make him stop moving. you heard him let out a sharp exhale as he turned around, pulling his sleeve out of your hold. “do you have to be so persistent?! i told you i was fine already, stop shoving your nose in things that don’t concern you”, he snapped at you. you froze at his words, not even knowing how to respond. you quietly cleared your throat, exhaling before responding. “if that’s how you feel… i’ll go. see you”, you muttered, pursing your lips as you slightly nodded, tears glazing your eyes as you walked away, not even giving him the chance to speak. he tried to call after you, but you were already in the elevator, the door beginning to close. he balled his hands into a fist, hitting himself against the forehead as he groaned at his inconsiderate words. he let his anger out at the last person who deserved it and he knew he was in the wrong completely.
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