#yes I’m bitter and had no life in high school | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sxcret-garden · 3 months

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Haechan ღ Painted with You [M]

ღ NCT Dream Haechan x fem!reader ღ feat.: short mentions of Renjun & Jeno ღ words: ~15k ღ genre: college AU, fwb to lovers, exes to lovers, fluff, slice of life, slow burn, pining, reader is a little dense, angst, humor, smut (switch!Haechan (but sub-leaning), oral (both receiving), hair pulling (idol receiving), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, some begging, fingering, handjob, edging, orgasm denial (idol receiving), dry humping) ღ warnings: alcohol consumption, depiction of anxiety and reader feeling burnt out, mentions of unhealthy coping mechanisms

Desc.: You and Donghyuck were a couple back in high school, each having your own reasons for dating the other, but ultimately what you seeked out in each other was a distraction. Now that you meet again five years later, you both come to realize that the connection between you is still there, and eventually it’s crystal clear that the people you’ve become won’t be as easily separated as back then.

Author's note: aaaa I've had this in my drafts for sooo long avoiding to proofread it cause I wasn't happy with this at all... so now I finally came back to it to edit a bit and I think in the end it turned out quite okay^^ I hope you guys like it 🫶

There’s a hint of victory in the smile he gives you when you sit down next to him. Like he knew it would come to this - that you’d get bored of exchanging mundanities with the others and eventually find yourself drawn to him as your only escape. And it’s not like you didn’t know it too, it was clear from the moment you greeted each other with a hug that lasted shorter than it should have, and at the same time felt more familiar than you wanted it to. Yet his stance is inviting as he turns his whole body towards you in his seat, and the curiousity in his eyes is apparent.

“Long time no see,” he says, and it comes out softer than you would’ve expected it to. And he probably had the same thought, because he’s clearing his throat now, talking more firmly as he continues, “What have you been up to?” The last time you’ve seen each other was at your high school graduation ceremony, and since then it’s been almost five years. Which, as your former class president Renjun had decided, was about enough time to gather for a reunion.

“Well, you know. This and that,” you try to avoid an answer, but of course he wouldn’t let you off the hook so easily. He knows you too well for that.

“Come on,” he snorts. “You can tell me. My time wasn’t spent in a purely productive manner either.”

“You probably spent about 3 years total on just playing video games…” you say with a grin playing on your lips, and you make him huff in disbelief, before his expression as well returns to a somewhat mischievous smile.

“Now that was just tactless,” he says, straightening his back now. “I quit uni to go to work, and then started again with a different major. So now I’m a freshman!” He gives you a peace sign with his hand, sounding a lot prouder about the fact than he should’ve been.

“Feeling like 19 again?” you joke.

“Yes! Everyone automatically assumes I’m their age,” he explains. “But then I tell them I’m older, so I can make them work for me!” An exaggeratedly mischievous laugh follows, and you can only shake your head at his shenanigans.

“You haven’t changed at all,” you say, turning away and facing the bartender working just a few seats away. Originally you were all going out for dinner and nothing more, but when some girls suggested paying a nearby bar a visit, nobody could refuse in the face of getting some booze into their veins. Maybe you aren’t the only one who’s getting fucked over by life.

“One margarita,” you raise your hand and order, then you add, directed at Donghyuck, “Anything for you?”

“Just soju.” And so after placing both your orders, he adds, “Still can’t drink the adult drinks?”

“Excuse you, it has alcohol in it, so it is an adult drink. But if you’re asking if I still hate bitter stuff - yes I do.”

“I see… anyway, I’m not letting you get away without properly answering my question.”

“Too bad,” you respond. “Well…” And then you hesitate. You remember what it was like between the two of you in high school. When you were dating, each for your own reasons and certainly not because you had feelings for each other. But he still felt like a friend you could entrust your deepest feelings with - you knew each other like the back of your own hand. And yet, you find yourself hesitating in the face of five years passed by without a word from the other. It wasn’t like you had a fight or broke up on bad terms. It’s just that you both agreed it would be better not to see each other again, for reasons that seemed smart at the time. But now that you’re looking at the person he’s become and how much he seems to have grown up, you’re not sure anymore what those reasons even were.

“That bad?” Donghyuck interrupts your train of thought as he raises an eyebrow at you, and when you shake your head a short laugh escapes him.

“No, just… I’m also still in university,” you say. “I had to take a year off, so I’m trying to finish everything now. It’s not going great though.”

“Oh…” he looks away, directing his gaze at his hands that he’s hiding in the sleeves of his knitted sweater. “Are you managing though?” And that’s when you suddenly feel the past and the present connect - the way he immediately becomes serious when the situation calls for it, just like he has always done, makes you feel safe to keep speaking, and to keep your heart open, just for a bit.

“It’s… difficult,” you admit. The bartender sets down your ordered drinks, causing another pause, and you acknowledge it with a nod. “I’m trying not to do too much, but you know what’s it like living here.”

“Yeah,” he says. “That fucked you over before, didn’t it?”

“Yeah.” You fall silent after that, but not for long. Your conversation partner is Donghyuck after all, he wouldn’t let an awkward silence get too long.

“I have changed… by the way.” You raise your eyebrows at him as he speaks those words, letting the sip of your cocktail slowly trickle down your throat.

“Have you?” you ask. “Well, I mean… you’ve grown up.”

“Oh?” Suddenly seeing him straightening his back as he’s overjoyed, you can’t but giggle at the way his face is graced with a beaming smile now, but he glosses it over with a cough and a sip of his soju.

“But you sure are still the same guy,” you add, a nostalgic smile on your lips.

“I guess,” he agrees, his features softening. Another pause falls upon you as you give your cocktail another taste, and this time it’s you who breaks the silence. Continuously chatting, you’re starting to feel a little tipsy from the sweet beverage after a while.

“I heard you got a girlfriend?” Donghyuck huffs, a wide smile meant to hide a bitter feeling appearing on his face.

“Yeah…”

“What about her?” you pry, sensing something off.

“Dumped me,” he simply says, then pointing across the room and at Jeno, one of your former classmates. “For that guy.”

“Ouch.”

“It’s whatever,” he shrugs it off, pouring himself another glass and offering the shot to you instead. “You sure you don’t want any?”

“I’d rather have my own drink, thanks.”

“Alright. Then cheers.” He downs the shot, grimacing at the taste, and when he sets the glass back down, he adds, “I don’t get why she went for him anyway. I bet it’s cause of all that muscle he got.” You can’t help but chuckle at his words, and you hit his upper arm playfully.

“You should hit the gym too and then see if you can get her back.”

“Very funny,” he replies dryly. “I’d rather die.”

“Understandable…” you reply, taking another sip of your drink as well. “So… you’re probably glad I finally came to you.” Donghyuck shoots you a questioning look and you explain yourself. “For a distraction. Like in the old days, you know?”

“Ahh…” He merely lets out a sound, before staring at his empty shot glass.

“You’re not doing that anymore?” you assume.

“I guess.”

“Yeah… me too,” you say. “Or like… I stopped using people for it.”

You were dating back then, that’s true, but you wouldn’t go as far as to call yourselves high school sweethearts. You were both going through some stuff - for him it was a breakup with his first love, for you it was just life itself. When you were both at your lowest you started talking properly, and it soon became clear that you both wanted nothing more than to escape. And so you formed an alliance - as you used to call it, to everyone else you simply said that you were a couple now. You did behave like a couple, but just for the rush. The first time you held his hand you felt nothing, but when you made out secretly in the backyard of your school instead of attending class, that’s when you were overwhelmed with excitement. It was a stupid idea, you know that now too, and it only worked for so long. You spent the summer of your junior year together, meeting up almost every day and talking, and eventually distracting yourselves by making out secretly in your or his room. And then your final year came, and as you started seeing yourselves forced to take life a bit more seriously, you gradually met up less, until you both agreed that breaking up would be the best decision, so that you could focus on your studies and try to get into a good university. At least for your part, you still have mixed feelings when you remember that day. Because you know you made the adult decision, but at the same time you always end up thinking back to what fooling around with him felt like when you have a bad day now, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss it at least a bit. But you found other distractions - obsessing over tv series, finding just the perfect kind of music to drown out your feelings, and sometimes, whenever you could find a good excuse to drink with friends, alcohol. Though you’re being careful with the latter, just as you are now. One drink is usually enough to help you relax a bit and not pay all the things stressing you out so much thought.

“So when are we gonna start writing your redemption arc?” you ask nonchalantly, and he raises an eyebrow at you. “Your ex.”

“Stop that, for real,” he says, and the way he remains serious tells you your joke wasn’t well received.

“Sorry,” you utter.

“It’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine, but you know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” He’s playing with the glass in his hands, thumb rubbing along its edge as he keeps staring at it, and you take the last few sips of your drink, before you too start spinning the cocktail glass around between your fingers.

“Actually…” Donghyuck speaks up, now throwing you an entirely different look. “How about we get out of here. Maybe we could both use a distraction after all.”

“But-”

“Just for today.” You stare at him blankly, blinking once, twice, then a third time. This sounds like a bad idea, but at the same time you know you’re probably not gonna see each other for the next five years, just like it was for the past five. So what would be so bad about taking his offer now?

“Alright,” you say eventually, having made up your mind. “My place? It’s nearby.” His lips are parted slightly as he watches you jump out of your seat and put on your jacket. As the air around you changes, so does the look in his eyes, and a moment later he gets up too, his arm wrapped loosely around your waist while he holds the door open for you as he walks you out of the place.

“You really have changed,” you comment as you’re sneaking out, so none of the others would notice, and you giggle at your unnecessary secrecy once you’re past the entrance to the building.

“I can be a gentleman too!” he insists. “Of course a high school boy wouldn’t think of that.” You catch the pout that forms on his lips as he adds the last part, and you inevitably laugh, pointing at his face.

“But you’re also really still the same.”

You decide on going to your place, as it’s nearby, and you take a taxi there. Though you know this is only going to be a one time thing, neither of you seems to be in a rush. You take the elevator to the sixth floor, grinning at each other in silence the entire ride - maybe because this reminds the both of you a bit too much of the way you used to sneak off together all the time back in school. But once you arrive at your apartment, the atmosphere between you somehow changes, and as you’re walking over to your little kitchen to offer him a drink, he stops you, wrapping his arm around your waist. His touch is firm now, and he comes to a halt when he’s standing right in front of you, closer than a friend would, but leaving more distance between you than a lover would, and keeping his voice lowered, he asks,

“So… are we going to go right to the distraction part? Or do we need to pretend that we still need to warm up to each other first?” You find him staring at your lips, then returning his gaze to your eyes as he waits patiently for your response. And you don’t manage to come up with anything smart to say to him, so you simply take a step forward, wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders, and you kiss him. His lips feel soft, just like you remember them, melting against yours perfectly. Yet there’s a firmness to his kiss that feels new to you. He used to always kiss you with eagerness, too much of it at times, impatient to feel more of you and for you to take control. It was no secret between you two that he actually quite enjoyed being put into his place by you, and now that there’s no such intentions apparent behind the way he moves his lips against yours, you find yourself having your breath taken away by the time you part.

“You really did grow up well…” you mutter, barely an inch apart. “Did your ex teach you to kiss like that?”

“Watch your mouth, Y/N,” he mutters darkly, another side of him that’s not exactly new to you, but one that you haven’t seen a lot in the past. And then he simply brushes his lips against yours again, softly and with care, quite in contrast to his sharp words. “I don’t wanna ruin this with thoughts about people I don’t know anymore.”

“Right…” you whisper, and before you can add a mumbled apology, he presses his lips to yours again. In between short kisses that inevitably leave you longing for more, he steers you closer to the wall behind you, until he has you trapped against it. Your shoulders meet the cold surface gently, and as you’re slowly getting to know this different side of him, you feel yourself being swept off your feet like he never knew how to.

One of his hands resting on your waist, his fingertips creep towards your hip as you’re sharing an open mouthed kiss. A moan escapes you when he presses you up against the wall closer, and as he slowly parts from you, you can see the playful grin showing on his face now.

“You changed too,” he comments, and again he closes the distance between you without giving you a chance to question his words. Your hands finding their way up into his short hair, your fingers get tangled with the strands and you carefully tug at them as he deepens this kiss as well. He’s kissing you slowly as you let him have the lead naturally, and as you keep making out like this, you eventually find yourself burning up whole under his touch. He moves from your mouth to your neck eventually, and you lean your head back with a deep sigh as he begins scattering hot kisses all over the area. His hand that’s been propped up against the wall now finds the back of your nape to support you, and when he comes back up, he whispers a question,

“Do we keep going like we used to? Or do you wanna go all the way this time?” Drunk on his kisses, you pull him in for another one on the mouth, and as you part you mutter,

“We’re not kids anymore. Let’s go all the way.” You step aside and he lets you, and you reach for his hands to walk him over to your couch. Giving him a push, he lets himself fall back onto the sofa, leaning against the backrest as his curious gaze never leaves you. “Don’t need this anymore…” you mumble as you pull off your shirt and throw it somewhere onto the ground, and then you crawl into his lap to straddle him. His hands find purchase on your hips immediately as he looks up at you with warm eyes. You cup his face in your hands and you lean in, capturing his lips in a teasing kiss. Sinking your teeth into his bottom lip, you lure a breathy moan out of him, and wanting to hear more, you keep kissing him like that. Feathery touches that would for sure make him want more eventually become overshadowed by you rolling his hips on top of him, and with each time he lets you hear his voice you become more eager. It’s almost as if you’ve become the one who can’t wait, and he’s the one acting with patience.

“Never knew you could turn me on this much,” he mutters as you pull back, moving your hips at a leisurely pace. You can undoubtedly feel the bulge in his pants, and it’s certainly not leaving you unaffected.

“I grew up too, Hyuck,” you say, and then you bury your face in his neck. You kiss a trail up to the spot right below his ear as he leans back, and his hands wander up your sides and to your back when you start nibbling on his skin.

“Mhm… you did, hm?” he answers. He finds the clasp of your bra and undoes it, and as the piece of clothing slides down your arms, you sit back so he can take it off you and fling it to the ground as well, somewhere in the general direction of where your shirt should be. He holds onto your sides as he takes in the sight in front of him, and as he draws closer to connect his lips to the skin on your chest, you can hear him saying,

“I know I never told you this as a boy but you look beautiful. I really regret not saying that to you.” He kisses his way up from the valley of your breasts to your throat and then back to your mouth, and just before he can connect his lips to yours, you whisper,

“It’s fine. I might’ve actually fallen for you if you had done that.” You laugh, and he does too, but his grin has a different meaning to it than yours.

“Don’t say that. We don’t want anything unfortunate to happen.” Connecting his lips to yours, he runs his tongue across them to ask for permission to enter, and without protest you let him deepen the kiss.

“Now you’re the one who said it,” you mumble a response in between kisses. “That’s a stupid thought anyway.”

“Right.” His fingertips dance south along your spine, and he eventually tugs at your pants as a sign that he wants those off as well. And so you peel yourself out of his hold, and while you’re discarding your jeans, he slips out of his shirt, and both clothing items land somewhere on the floor, soon to be forgotten. He makes you lie down flat on the couch as he crawls on top of you, and when he leaves a trail of small kisses up your torso, one of his hands finds its way to your hips, thumb hooking under the fabric of your panties.

“These too,” he says. “I want these off too.” You give him the okay to take them off as you comb your fingers through his hair once, and as soon as he’s gotten rid of the last piece of clothing on your body, he lowers himself to let his lips draw a map of your figure. Feeling his warm hands against your sides, you let out a sigh as you lean your head back and you close your eyes for a bit, just enjoying the way his kisses feel against your skin. Your hands fly to his hair again, and you find yourself massaging his scalp as he’s slowly going down on you. You let him lift your legs up onto his shoulders eventually, and when he buries his face between your legs, you can’t but let out a small moan. Tongue lapping at your folds, he hums at your taste, and then he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking on it gently.

“That feel good?” he asks, slurring his words a bit, and you nod, tugging at the strands of hair between your fingers.

“Yeah. Keep going…” And so he does, alternating between teasing you with his lips and the tip of his tongue, and when he retrieves one hand to slide his fingers inside you, he comments,

“So wet for me, hm?”

“Y-yeah…” You can unmistakably feel the knot in your stomach being tied tighter with every single touch of his, and when he pumps his fingers in and out of you at a frustratingly slow pace, you find yourself begging for more. “Faster… p-please…” Donghyuck simply hums at your plea, before he obliges, curling his fingers inside you just a little faster. Gradually picking up on speed, the way he flicks his tongue against your clit along with the waves of pleasure that run through your body with each time he hits that sweet spot inside you make you slowly lose your mind, and you let him know just how good he’s making you feel by moaning in tune with his movements.

“Don’t stop… please don’t stop…” you mewl as you look down on yourself to find him already gazing back up at you, observing all of your reactions closely through half-lidded eyes. Just a few more repetitions and he’s throwing you over the edge, making you clench around his fingers as you throw your head back with a moan. “Fuck…” you mutter after he pulls out of you carefully, and he crawls back up to kiss you on the lips. You can taste yourself on his tongue as you share a lazy kiss, and once you part, you place your palms on his chest to push him off you.

“Your turn,” you simply state as you sit up and you make some space so you can comfortably kneel in front of the sofa. Getting the message, he hurriedly rids himself of his pants and boxers, and when he sits down in front of you, you don’t waste another second to wrap your fingers around his length. Giving him a few strokes, he’s fully hard in no time, and he watches as he leans back, enjoying the attention.

“You really have no patience anymore, huh,” he mutters, and you lick your lips before returning his gaze.

“Want me to torture you a bit? Make you beg for it? I can do that too.”

“I can beg if you want me to,” he retorts, the confident expression not being wiped off his face so easily, and you decide to keep that piece of information in mind. Just in case. But for now you’re not planning on making him wait - he’s right, you’ve become impatient, and you’re dying to know what kind of sounds you might lure out of him with his dick in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his tip a few times, watching him part his lips slightly as he lets you hear a deep sigh and a praise directed at you. “That’s right…” he mutters, and when you take his tip into your mouth fully, he lets you hear a moan so sweet, you swear you could cum just from the sound of it. Slowly bobbing your head up and down and having your hand that’s wrapped around his base follow those same movements, you enjoy the way he keeps moaning at your ministrations, until eventually you hum in approval and he whines from the pleasure.

“Fuck…” A curse escapes him when his tip hits the back of your throat and you gag a little, and you find yourself amused at how easy it is to make a guy whine as soon as you have him in a position like this. You go painfully slow, but he takes all of your teasing, and just when you start feeling bad for him because of how desperate his moans are, you speed up, making sure to take him in as far as you can.

“Shit, Y/N…” he calls out to you. “Wait-”

“Hm?” You come up at his words, letting him slip out of your mouth.

“Wanna cum in your pussy…” The request makes you grin.

“So demanding…” you mutter, shooting him a challenging look.

“Please…” he tries to convince you, his pupils shaking as he’s awaiting your answer. But you’ve already made up your mind on how you’re going to proceed, and so you merely throw him a grin, before taking him back into your mouth. He throws his head back at you sucking him off at a faster pace now, probably in a mixture of frustration and pleasure, and as more curses fall from his lips along with your name, you know he’s close. You hum at his desperation and at the way he’s twitching in your hand while he’s bucking his hips up into your touch, and the next time you’re sinking all the way down on him, he cums with a moan. You try to swallow everything as he releases into your mouth, and when you let go of him you lick your lips to get the rest of it too, all while he watches with a hazy mind. And then you crawl into his lap, leaving a trail of kisses down the side of his throat, and eventually you say,

“Why not both?” You grab his face in one hand, gaze falling to his lips, and before he can say anything you kiss him to cut off his train of thought. “We have so much time tonight…” you mutter against his lips in between kisses, and he merely lets out small moans at your words. “We can do all the things we want. But let’s move somewhere more comfortable first.” And so you hurriedly walk over to your bedroom, Donghyuck pushing you against the mattress as soon as you’re there, and he doesn’t waste a single second to kiss you again. His lips nipping at your collarbones, you throw your arms around him, until finally you switch positions again, and you end up sitting on top of him, sinking down on his hard cock and biting your lower lip from how good it feels to be filled up like this.

“Fuck…” Now it’s you who’s cursing, fingers intertwined with his as you’re pinning his hands down to keep yourself stable. You know he’s drinking up the sight in front of him as you start slowly riding him, and the way he looks at you only turns you on more.

“Shit, you look so pretty like this…” he mumbles, completely taken aback, and he sits up, freeing his hands to hold onto your sides instead. “Can I kiss you?”

“You’re asking that now?” you chuckle as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and he lets out a short laugh as he too realizes how ridiculous his question was.

“You’re right,” he mutters, leaning in. “Then I’ll just kiss you whenever I want.” A rush of heat courses through your body as he presses his lips against yours, and you roll your hips on top of him just a little faster.

“Please do,” you whisper, barely audible, before Donghyuck closes the distance between you again. You take your time making out, until both of you feel that you’re coming close again, and with one hand between your bodies, he starts rubbing your clit for you as you keep your pace.

“I’ll help you,” he whispers, unable to take his eyes off your face as you’re both completely drunk on the other’s touches.

“Mhm…” you moan, chasing your own high on top of him. You’re the first one who comes undone, digging your nails into his shoulders and burying your face in the crook of his neck as your high shakes you.

“Don’t stop, Y/N…” His words sound desperate, and you do your best to keep moving despite feeling the overstimulation building up. He has both his hands on your back now, and you let out a moan when you feel him dragging his nails down to your hips. “Shit…!” Spitting out a curse, he releases inside you, and finally you come to a halt. You stay in your positions for a while, waiting until your heartbeats have returned to a normal pace in each other’s arms, before you both lie down side by side, out of breath and grinning at the other.

“Didn’t think you’d get that good without me…” he mutters a comment.

“Hey!” you shout playfully. “What was I supposed to do if you just disappear on me like that?”

“You didn’t contact me either,” he tries to defend himself, but you both know it was him who stopped replying to your messages, even though your conversations were already scarce after graduating. For now you decide to say nothing - your mind filled with bliss from what your night out ended up turning into, you wouldn’t want to ruin the mood. Instead, he’s the one to break the silence.

“Wanna keep going?” he asks, scooting over closer to you and making you lie flat on your back, kissing a trail down your jawline and placing a hand on top of your stomach. “I wanna keep going,” he adds, more silently, as his fingers are already wandering south.

“Alright,” you mutter, your hand up in his hair again as he drags his fingers down your folds, dipping inside once and then coming back up to your clit to draw circles onto it. “If I walk weird tomorrow it’s your fault,” you add, laughing.

“You just made me wanna see that,” he jokes back, before pressing a kiss to the side of your throat and letting his fingers take care of you.

You keep in touch after that, texting each other throughout the day - even on those days where you barely find the time or energy to be social, you’ll at least send some memes back and forth - and meeting up whenever you both have some free time. It really feels like you’re continuing right where you had left off five years ago whenever you find yourselves unable to stop laughing because of your own bickering, or when you’re sitting side by side, having a more serious conversation and simply offering an open ear to the other. And at the same time something about the way you treat each other has undoubtedly changed. Of course you both grew up and you’re more mature than you were as high school students, but it seems there’s something else lingering in the air during every interaction you have, you just can’t really put your finger on what that is.

You also keep meeting up to have sex.

“So? What does that make us?” you ask a question into the dimly lit room, staring up at the ceiling. You’re both lying side by side on his bed, the sheets beneath you messed up as evidence of what you’ve been doing, and the chilly air in the room hitting your skin lets you cool down a bit.

“What? This?” Donghyuck asks, turning his head so he could look at you.

“Yeah,” you respond. “We’re not just friends if we’re constantly hooking up, are we?” Your words are accompanied by a chuckle, meant to tell him that you’re not being as serious as you sound. Or maybe you are, but mostly because your other friends keep asking where you’re sneaking off so frequently these days, and why you don’t seem to have the time to meet up with them anymore. And everytime you tell them you’re seeing a different friend, a part of you feels like you’re lying. Maybe that’s because they’ve stopped believing you too, and they keep urging you on to finally admit that you’re dating someone. But you’re not dating Donghyuck, right?

“Fuckbuddies?” He rolls onto his side, head supported by his hand, and he gives you a mischievous look.

“I guess,” you say, and after some consideration you add, “My friends keep asking who I’m meeting all the time. They think I have a boyfriend.”

“Well, what does it feel like when you kiss me?” You’re too stunned to speak for a moment, not expecting him to pose such a serious question.

“I mean… you’re a good kisser?” You grin at him, rolling onto your side as well so you could face him, and as you’re drawing near, he’s already reaching out to capture your chin between his thumb and index finger.

“That’s all?”

“I think so.” He lets his lips brush against yours, puffy and reddened from making out earlier, and you feel warmth wrap around you. You also feel safe with him, but that’s not exclusively related to him kissing you, so you don’t feel the need to mention it.

“Then I can’t be your boyfriend,” he mutters when you part.

“So friends… with benefits then?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, great,” you say, letting yourself fall onto your back, sinking into the mattress. “I can’t go around telling my friends that I’m seeing a fuckbuddy.” Your friend giggles beside you.

“I mean you don’t have to,” he says. “If it’s easier to explain, you can just pretend you’re seeing a boyfriend. I don’t mind.”

“I wonder…” you mumble, more to yourself than to him. “Then they’ll want to meet you, so… anyway.” You sit up, letting your feet dangle off the side of the bed. “I’m kinda hungry. You wanna order something?”

“I’ll make us some ramen. But we should shower first.” He sits up as well, and when you throw him a look over your shoulder, he cocks his head to the side, giving you another grin. “Together?” You laugh at his suggestion.

“You just want another round in there, don’t you? We’re never gonna get food in that case. I’m going alone.”

“Awww…” he whines in defeat and it makes you smile. You crawl closer to him, placing a peck onto his pouting lips.

“We kiss an awful lot for fuckbuddies, though,” you remark, and then you get up.

“I don’t think we’re kissing nearly enough…” he mumbles an answer. Amused by his words, you shoot him another glance, and then you trot off to the bathroom.

“You free Friday night?” You glance at your phone screen when it lights up to quickly read Donghyuck’s message that you just received, and as you let out a sigh, you return your focus to the notebook in front of you. Skimming through your handwritten notes from the lecture you visited every wednesday afternoon a year ago still gives you anxiety - you’re not sure what more you’re supposed to study than this and the materials displayed on your laptop screen, and yet you don’t feel nearly prepared enough. You’re in your last semester - or at least you’re planning for this to be the last one - and you finally forced yourself to register for the exam you keep postponing because you horribly failed it the first time. The worst part is that it’s an oral exam, so no turning back once you’ve answered (or not answered) a question, even if a better response comes to you later on during the exam. And you hate that, because you know your brain tends to black out in stressful situations, and panicking while you’re supposed to recite your knowledge on a complicated topic doesn’t exactly help with that. You tear your eyes away from the materials eventually, taking another sip of your coffee and then picking up your phone off the small round dinner table in your flat.

“Sorry, I don’t have time then ㅠㅠ” You press send, and it doesn’t take long for your friend to reply.

“On the weekend? I’m busy Saturday but Sunday is fine!!”

“I don’t think I can make time until Tuesday. Sorry. Difficult exam coming up…”

“Then you should take a break!! I’m sure you’ve been studying all day” He’s not wrong with his assumption, but still you can’t bring yourself to set aside a few hours to fool around with him. You wouldn’t be able to relax and truly get the exam off your mind anyway, so you refuse again, even if it hurts you.

It’s been like this for a while now. The last time you’ve seen Donghyuck’s face was almost three weeks ago - after that university and sending job applications have taken up all your free time, and the few hours you had in between to rest you simply spent alone in the comfort of your own apartment, feeling too exhausted to even consider making plans with someone else. You know it might do you good to get out more for other things than going to uni, but at the same time you know you simply don’t have the energy right now - or you would’ve already scheduled a meetup with friends. It sucks, and you’re hoping for some space to breathe in between your schedules sometime soon, but at the same time you know you will be busy with uni until your graduation, and from then on you’ll be busy getting accustomed to work and proving yourself there. And the more you think about it, the more it starts to dawn on you that things will likely not change in the near future, and that somehow the life of a freshman and that of a senior don’t really match well at all.

But you brush those thoughts off for now. The last thing you need right now is a distraction, and so you get back to revising the contents for the exam.

And then comes Sunday afternoon, and you can feel the panic coursing through your veins as if you were about to suffocate from it any second now. You’ve always had some kind of exam anxiety, but it’s never been this bad, and you have absolutely no idea what to do with it except endure and hope that tomorrow will pass quickly. That’s when your phone buzzes to let you know you’ve gotten a message, and what you see when you open the chat room tips you over the edge.

“This would’ve been more fun if we had watched it together~” - along with a picture of a laptop screen showing the credits of a movie, the interior of Donghyuck’s flat showing in the background. Your hands are shaking as you read his message, your head spinning because suddenly the stress and a feeling of helplessness overwhelms you. You end up doing the first thing that comes to mind - you call him. He picks up after the first ring.

“Jealous?” he teases you, and you stay quiet, your words suddenly stuck in your throat. Hearing only your ragged breathing, he sounds serious when he continues talking after a few moments of silence. “Are you okay?”

“No.”

“What’s up? Wanna talk about it?”

“...the exam…”

“Ahh… you’re freaking out because of it?”

“Y-yeah…” Tears well up in your eyes, but you fight hard to keep them from falling. You know if you start crying now, chances are you won’t be able to talk properly in order to explain yourself to him. “I studied everything but I don’t feel like it’s enough… I have no idea how I’m supposed to pass tomorrow…” A sob escapes you at the end of it, and Donghyuck doesn’t hesitate to answer,

“I’ll come over. Just wait for me and hold tight, I’ll be there in 30.”

And so that’s what he does. He doesn’t even give you the time to refuse when he hangs up, and sure enough roughly 30 minutes later he’s at your doorstep. Putting down his bags and taking off his shoes, the first thing he does is pull you into a tight hug.

“Come here,” whispered against the side of your head as he’s already holding you close, he hugs you until he can feel some of the tension leaving your body. When he finally lets you go, he picks up a paper bag he brought with him, holding it out to you and you take it from him. “I bought them on the way. I thought you could use some comfort food.” A glance inside the bag reveals a box decorated with the logo of your favourite bakery.

“Oh my god… thank you!” you exclaim, and you give him another hug as he lets out a bit of an awkward laugh.

“Ah, it’s fine, it’s nothing. Let’s have these while we go over your materials together, okay?”

“Huh?” You take a step back and raise your eyebrows at him.

“I came to help you study. So you can kick ass tomorrow!” Throwing a fist in the air in a victorious gesture, you cringe a bit at his childlike enthusiasm, but at the same time you feel thankful. Like you had been in free fall for the past days and finally someone came to catch you.

“Okay,” you accept his offer to help, and then you walk over to the small table in your living room where your laptop and your notes are scattered all over. Briefly organizing them, you skim through them together, and when you’ve reached the end of it, Donghyuck starts asking you random questions related to the topic that he can come up with. And with every question that you manage to answer, you feel just a little calmer, until you’ve gone through everything several times and it’s long dark outside.

“You’re gonna do well tomorrow,” the guy sitting next to you tells you, throwing his hand up in the air to do some stretching and you do the same, your body aching for a bit of movement after sitting down for hours.

“You think so?”

“Of course!” He seems almost offended at you doubting yourself now. “Look at all these things you memorized perfectly! You’re gonna be just fine.”

“You’re right…” you mutter. “I do feel more confident now.” Yet, you let your head hang.

“But…?” he asks.

“But… I know by the time the exam starts tomorrow I’ll be so nervous, I might forget everything…” He reaches for your hands, taking them into his and giving both of them a gentle squeeze as he looks intently at your face.

“Then you think about how well you just did and how long we just spent repeating everything you studied. With this much preparation, there’s no way you would fail.” You know that realistically speaking, that’s not necessarily true, but you decide to believe him for now. Putting trust into his words puts you at ease, so that’s what you’re going to do.

“Alright,” you say. “It’ll be fine.”

“Of course it will,” he says, laughing as if he had not a single doubt about it.

“But…”

“Another but?”

“It’s almost 2am,” you say.

“Oh.”

“Wanna stay over? It takes you ages to get home if you have to take the night buses, right?”

“It’s fine, I’ll just take a taxi,” he replies, adding, “I don’t wanna stress you out more by staying over.”

“No, I-” All the times you felt yourself forced to turn down his invitations to meet up during the past few weeks are suddenly fresh in your memory, and eventually you manage to say, “I’d actually be thankful if you could stay over… you know… keep the bad thoughts away…”

“Sure…” he responds, and growing very quiet suddenly, he gets up to wrap you into another hug. “I’ll stay.”

You each take a shower and get ready for bed, him throwing on some of his clothes you had lying around at your place anyway, and when you get under the sheets together, it feels different than usually when you sleep in the same bed. Neither of you has any thoughts about having sex for a change, and instead he simply pulls you close to let you rest your head on top of his chest. You wrap an arm around his waist as you listen to his heartbeat, already feeling sleepiness overcome you as you snuggle up to him and you can feel him drawing mindless patterns onto your skin. You feel a sense of peace and safety washing over you when your eyelids simply fall shut, and as you fall asleep you almost don’t register the way he presses a soft kiss onto your forehead.

When you open the email telling you that you got a C on your exam, the first thing you can think of doing is letting Donghyuck know.

“I passed!!!” You send him a message, and he surely doesn’t let you wait too long for an answer, along with a little sticker of a bear wearing a gold medal and giving a thumbs up.

“I told you so!!”

“It’s all thanks to you,” you write. “We need to go celebrate! Drinks on me.”

“Sounds good~”

With a broad smile on your face you put your phone into the pocket of your padded jacket. It has become cold outside, and there’s a thin layer of snow on the streets from last night. It’s the beginning of December, and before Christmas and new years you’re still going to be very busy. You have two job interviews coming up, have to prepare for your final exams and in between you should find some time to work on your dissertation. Still somehow you’re confident that you would easily be able to find a date where you can go out for your little celebration with your friend, but when you run into him on campus a week later, reality hits you right in the face.

“Y/N!” Donghyuck calls out to you as he spots you among a bunch of other students, and you fall behind to briefly talk to him.

“Oh, hi,” you say, not having seen him at all.

“You still didn’t reply to my messages,” he remarks and you immediately pull out your phone, indeed finding that you’ve left him on read two days ago.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you apologize as you remember that you clearly had the intent to respond to him, but then very obviously failed to do so. “Ah, if we can meet… today?”

“Yesterday,” he corrects you. “But I guess that didn’t happen…” You can unmistakably see the disappointment in his expression, even though he’s doing his utmost to hide it, and you furrow your brows at the sight in front of you.

“I’m sorry… I must’ve forgotten to reply while studying or something,” you say, unable to look him in the face. “You know, finals coming up.”

“Yeah… I’m studying a lot too these days,” he says, quickly adding, “But I guess as a senior it’s only natural that you’re even busier than I am.” His words sting for some reason, but it’s not like he’s wrong. Truth be told, you’ve been studying every free minute for the past few days, and in between you had a job interview that you don’t have the best of gut feelings about. You were so busy that you barely manage to have three meals a day, and yet you feel guilty about not being able to make time for him.

“I’m really sorry, Hyuck…” you say and he mutters an “it’s okay” as an answer. “But it’s not, is it?” To that he merely glances to the side, showing a sorry smile. And right then you have an idea. “You know what?” As you reach out to take his hand into yours, he raises his eyebrows at you, taken by surprise by your sudden action. “Let’s set a date right now. Then we don’t have to worry about me forgetting to reply or something.”

“But… that won’t change the fact that you’re super busy…” he reasons, but you cut him off.

“It’s fine, I should be able to spare at least a few hours,” you say, opening your calendar app on your phone and scrolling through the days until exam week starts. “How about next Friday? Friday night sounds like a good time for a little study break and having a celebration instead.”

“S-sure.” You barely notice how he’s atypically dumbfounded at your enthusiasm, only focusing on the fact that you finally found a date to see each other again.

“Great! My place or yours?” you ask, already typing it into your phone.

“Mine… you wanna bring the drinks? Then I’ll take care of the food,” he offers, now taking his phone out as well, probably to put the meet up into his calendar as well.

“Sounds good,” you say in a rush. “Then I’ll see you Friday! Sorry, but… I really have to go now. I was gonna study some more at the library - you coming too?”

“Ah, no, I… have class in half an hour,” he explains briefly, and as you wave your goodbyes and you’re already running off, you fail to notice how his shoulders are suddenly slouched over and there’s a hint of disappointment in the way he looks at you as you’re walking away.

You sigh as you stare at the email you just received, and you immediately regret even checking your mailbox in the middle of studying in the first place. You got rejected for the last job you applied to - but at least you should be thankful that they let you know about it in the first place, right? After all, the last two companies didn’t even do that much after your interview with them. You gulp, trying to swallow all the disappointment bubbling up inside and attempting to shove it back down to where it came from, and then eventually you cross your arms on the table, resting your head on top and you close your eyes for a while. Another sigh escapes you, and you feel the weight of your responsibilities lay heavily on your shoulders. You’re trying not to beat yourself up over not having found a job for after your graduation yet - you know that everyone’s struggling with finding employment these days. But you really don’t want to take on a job you’re overqualified for, or one that’s not in your field of studies at all. You’ve already made too many compromises because of this, like being willing to move to another city for your job, or expanding on what type of positions you’re applying to. And still, nothing. It’s starting to get to you, even though you hate that it is, and even though you had told yourself to focus on your exams and your dissertation first and foremost. But all of these things stacked on top of each other have led you to lose your spark a bit, and there’s no denying you’re starting to feel burnt out.

You tell yourself it’s fine, it will pass and eventually your life will get less stressful again. But for now you can feel that you’re at your limit, and you could really use some comfort.

“Right,” you mutter to yourself, lifting your head and looking at the date displayed in the bottom corner of your laptop screen. “Only a few hours to go. Then I can see him.” It’s Friday afternoon, and so you take a deep breath and bring yourself to study some more, before you can finally go to Donghyuck’s place, spending a full evening not having to think about any of this. Burying your head in your books and your lecture notes, you end up not realizing how fast the time is passing, and next time you check the clock, it’s already past 7.

“Oh god…” you quickly pick up your phone, seeing that your friend already sent you a message asking where you are. You were scheduled to be at his place at 7, but somehow you completely lost track of time.

“I’m so sory I didn’t realize hwo late is is. Ill hurry!!” You type up that message as quickly as possible, ignoring the typos as you send it, and then you jump out of your seat to get ready.

It’s almost 8pm when he opens the door for you and you apologize first thing as you hand him the tote bag with the alcohol you had promised to bring.

“Ah, but you thought of the important stuff,” he says with a forced smile, trying to brighten the mood a bit before he invites you in and you kick off your shoes and take off your coat to follow him inside.

“I’m really really sorry,” you say once again when you’ve made yourself comfortable on his couch. “I was studying and suddenly it was already this late…”

“It’s okay,” Donghyuck says as he carries over two glasses from the kitchen, handing you one of them. “We’re both busy, it’s not like I don’t understand.”

“But you’re upset.”

“A little,” he admits without looking you in the eyes, and when he continues talking, he does his best to sound cheerful. “But let’s not let that ruin the entire evening. We were both looking forward to today, right?”

“Yeah,” you say. “You won’t believe how glad I am to finally be here,” you add, and you feel the way your body relaxes just by being near him. You earn yourself a bright smile for that comment, before he lifts up the glass in his hand.

“I found the recipe for this a few days ago and wanted to try it,” he says. “I thought it’s your style.” You find a few ice cubes swimming in the beverage he handed you, along with a slice of lemon. The color is a dark shade of yellow at the bottom, and completely transparent at the top, and you nod at the presentation.

“It looks good,” you say. “I’ll try it. Cheers!” Each taking a sip, you agree that you like the taste, and the guy sitting next to you on his sofa explains,

“The recipe says you should put a bit of mint in as well, but… I didn’t have any.”

“I think it’s good the way it is… but, I’m starving. Let’s order food?”

“Me too,” he answers, getting out his phone.

You order takeout, and while you eat and drink, you watch a movie that you’ve both been wanting to see for some time. You end up chatting here and there during less interesting scenes, and even though you enjoy the movie overall, you enjoy talking to him more. Eventually, as your eyelids begin to feel heavy, you rest your head on his shoulder and he lets you, and you don’t think anything of the peaceful smile he gives you upon feeling you so close to him. He puts one of his hands on top of your thigh, mindlessly rubbing his palm up and down, and by the end of the movie you can’t deny anymore that his actions are affecting you. Credits still rolling, you turn your head to face him, and wordlessly you kiss him, his lips melting against yours. You part for a mere second in which you put your hand behind his neck, and as you let yourself fall against the backrest of his sofa, he hovers above you, distance closing again.

“Hyuck…” you breathe his name when you part the next time. “Need you…”

“Let’s go somewhere more comfortable,” he mutters into a sweet kiss, and then he gets up, taking you by your hands to pull you up along with him. As soon as you step into the bedroom you pull him in for another kiss, and you stumble backwards as he steers you towards his bed. He barely lets you lie down when he’s already on top of you, kissing you more deeply. Tongue running across your lip to ask for permission to enter, you allow it without hesitation, and you moan at the way he kisses you slowly but passionately.

“I’ll take care of you,” he says after parting, “just lean back, okay?”

“Okay…” you answer and he lets his fingertips wander down your clothed body. Undoing the button of your jeans, he unhurriedly slips his hand inside them, and he watches you intently as his fingertips brush against your soaked panties, his voice sultry as he teases you, “So wet already… I didn’t know you were that desperate for me…” Before letting you answer, he leans in to place a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth, starting to rub up and down between your folds slowly.

“I thought I’d go crazy without this…” you confess, arms wrapped around him and one hand up in his hair. You play with his locks as he teases you, and you whine, “More, please… don’t make me wait even longer…”

“What do you want, baby?” he asks, and then he buries his face in your neck, leaving kisses there as you throw your head back.

“Anything… even if it’s just your fingers, please just get me off…” you beg, only now realizing just how desperate you really are. Donghyuck gulps at your words, and he kisses his way up to your jaw and along it, until his lips are hovering right above yours.

“Tell me how badly you need me…” he mutters, pushing the fabric of your underwear aside so he could touch you directly. “I wanna hear everything.” As he starts rubbing small circles on your clit his lips go back to tending to your neck, kissing and nipping on the sensitive skin and making it that much more difficult for you to form coherent sentences. Still you can’t but do as told.

“So bad… need you so bad,” you mewl. “I tried to get off so many times, but nothing feels as good as when you touch me…” He hums at your words, granting you a finger dipping inside your pussy for just a moment in return and gasping at just how wet you are.

“I’ll make up for it,” he says. “I’ll make you cum so good.” You whimper, and then you instinctively buck your hips as his finger ghosts above your entrance. You hear him curse through gritted teeth at how needy you’re becoming, and blood rushes to your head from the thought alone that your state could turn him on so much as well.

“Please… just give me your fingers…” you whine, and to your surprise Donghyuck doesn’t drag out his teasing for longer. And so you cry out when he pushes inside, pumping in and out of you while watching your every reaction to his touch. “Fuck…” you hiss, already seeing your high approaching from far away. “I’m not gonna last long…”

“It’s okay,” he coos over you. “Wanna feel you cum around my fingers… can you take another one?”

“Y-yes… yes please…” you say mindlessly, only being able to think about how you want to feel him more. The stretch is bearable when he pushes into you with three fingers, and when he presses his thumb against your bundle of nerves, fingering you skillfully, you think you’re about to lose your mind. “Fuck… yes… don’t stop, please…” you mewl as he slowly picks up speed until he can see the bliss on your facial features. At this point all you can do is moan his name and dig your nails into his shoulder blades as you cling to him, bucking your hips in chase of your orgasm.

“Shit, you’re so pretty…” you hear him mutter under his breath as he marvels at the sight in front of him, and next thing you know your whole body is shaken by the force of your high. You whine as he fucks you through it, right until your last aftershocks, and then you simply close your eyes as you lay back on his bed, feeling the exhaustion from the past weeks taking over you. Licking his fingers clean after pulling out of you, he then captures your chin between his thumb and index finger to make you look at him.

“What do you want me to do next?” he asks, his words sounding maybe even sweeter than usual to your ears, and you blame it on the way your mind is still in a haze from your orgasm. You think about it for a short while, and in the end you simply snuggle up to him closely.

“Let’s just… stay like this for a while,” you answer. “If that’s okay with you… I think I just need to be close to you.”

“Sure…” Donghyuck mutters, a bit taken aback by your response that must’ve come very unexpectedly to him. However, he doesn’t hesitate to put an arm around your frame, making you feel safe in a warm embrace. “That good?” he asks, and when you nod he presses his lips against your forehead, lingering there for a while.

You don’t move, not knowing how much time is passing while you’re merely listening to the other’s breathing and enjoying each other’s warmth. At that moment, you wish you could stay like this forever, but as you close your eyes and begin to relax, all your thoughts from the past weeks about your situation with him catch up to you one by one. Deep inside you know it can’t stay like this. And the longer you’re dragging this out, the more clearly you can see just how unfair this is on him. And so eventually, you don’t see any other plausible course of action to take next than to start talking.

“Thank you… for being by my side,” you mutter. Your hand having found its way into his, you’re playing with his fingers, eyes focused on that. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you lately… really.”

“Of course!” he responds, moving back a bit to get a proper look at your face. “You know I’d do anything for you.” You chuckle at his exaggerated words, letting go of his hand and ruffling his hair instead.

“I’m glad to have met you again,” you continue. “But… I’ve been thinking, you know? And I don’t think we can go on like this.”

“What…?”

“Just… I’m only gonna get busier, you know…?” The exact moment that he sits up, his comforting touch being torn away from you as he stares at you with disbelief on his face, you inevitably begin to feel like you fucked up. But you started this now, and there’s no way you could dig yourself back out of this mess, so you decide it’d be for the best to just see it through and be honest with him. “You know that I could never pay you back all that you’ve done for me… Hyuck.” You call out his name, but he barely even reacts with nothing but a blank expression in his eyes. You could’ve sworn you’ve never seen him this pale. “I’m gonna graduate, Hyuck. You’ll still be a student when I start working. Hell, I might have to move somewhere completely different if I don’t find a job in this city soon. And once I do find employment, I’m gonna have to work my ass off to prove my worth. I won’t have time to fool around like this anymore…”

“Fool… around…?” he repeats, speaking slowly, as his expression suddenly reflects a hundred complicated feelings. “Fool around… was all this is to you?”

“I mean… we’re friends too, obviously-”

“Y/N,” he cuts you off, and the way he says your name stabs you like a knife. “I have feelings too, you know. You can’t just…” A bitter laugh escapes him. “You’re going to tell me that it’s better if we didn’t see each other anymore, aren’t you?”

“No!” you immediately refute. “I mean-... look, we can stay friends, but I don’t know how much we’ll actually be able to see each other-”

“Friends?” he repeats in utter disbelief. “You don’t realize it, do you?”

“Realize what-”

“I’m in love with you, Y/N. I love you.”

“What…?” That is all you manage to reply to his confession. You really did never notice it, and so this comes as a shock to you. You realize that maybe him saying he’d do anything for you wasn’t an exaggeration at all, but you didn’t think he’d keep this fuckbuddy thing up if he had feelings for you all along. As if he had read your mind, he says,

“I’m sorry… I-... I didn’t want to tell you like this…” he speaks, his head hanging low now. “Not when I know you have a thousand other things to worry about, but… I just couldn’t… you said all these hurtful things. I don’t think you know how much hearing all that just now hurts.”

“I-,” you begin, but you don’t know what to say. You stare at him in utter disbelief for a moment, and then all of a sudden, from one second to the other, you feel like you’re going to suffocate if you don’t get out of here as fast as possible. “I… I can’t do this right now.” You get up off the bed and zip up your jeans. Your head is in chaos and your emotions are all jumbled up, but the one thing you can clearly feel is the anger burning in your veins. You truly are upset that he dropped such a bomb on you just before exams start and you need a clear head more than anything. “I’m going home… sorry,” you mutter under your breath, and without another look back at the guy who can’t do anything but watch as you’re slipping out of his grasp once again, you walk out of the door.

“Good luck for your exams” You let out a sigh as you finally delete the notification of the message Donghyuck sent you four days ago as you’re on your way to uni for your last exam. It’s Friday noon and you can’t wait for all of this to be over, the beginning of winter break feeling like you’re finally about to reach the safe shore after you’ve been almost drowning for weeks.

You didn’t talk to Donghyuck for the entirety of the week - of course, or you would’ve long answered his message that he sent you on Monday. But you couldn’t bring yourself to, you didn’t even dare open the chatroom. Instead, you had focused on the necessities to get you through this week: sleep, eat, revise everything you studied, be on time for your exams, rinse and repeat. And now that it’s already the last day of this nightmare, you can’t wait to simply crash into bed once you arrive home tonight.

It’s true that you’ve been feeling the relief after every single exam you finished, like some of the weight was taken off your shoulder with each time you walk out of a lecture hall. And yet you still feel the tiredness in your bones, but there’s something else tugging at your limbs and trying to make you stop running from one task to the other. However, you don’t let it. Too big is the fear of what you might find if you do stop and have a look, so you force all thoughts out of your mind that have nothing to do with your exams. And today as well your mind is empty when you take your seat and you’re handed the paper you’re supposed to fill out during the next one and a half hours, trusting your memory and your ability to recall the correct answers you have studied to each question.

As you’re leaving the lecture hall, finally done with the last one of your exams, somebody calls out to you. You turn your head to find one of your friends catching up with you, greeting you with a lively expression on her face.

“We’re finally done,” she says. “Now we only need to wait for our final paper to be graded and then we’re free!”

“Yeah,” you respond, trying to sound cheerful but inevitably failing. You’re just tired at this point, and no matter how relieved you are that exams are over, you can’t bring yourself to be happy.

“What’s with you?” your friend asks, concern in her voice. “Do you have to redo one of your exams?”

“No, no, it’s nothing,” you assure her, but she doesn’t buy it.

“There’s something up with you. Did studying take that much out of you?”

“I guess,” you reply as you walk down the hallway with her, but then you hesitate. “Actually… nevermind.”

“Hm? Y/N, what is it? You’re being really weird.” She steps in front of you, making you halt on the spot, but eventually she keeps walking. “It’s okay, I shouldn’t pressure you to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“...it’s about a friend,” you admit finally.

“A friend?” she repeats. “Did something happen to them?”

“No, just… we just haven’t seen each other much lately, and… yeah.” You lower your head and she steps closer.

“That must be a very good friend if you miss them so much,” she states, matter of factly, and that’s when you feel a stab right to your heart, putting you in physical pain.

“Right…” you mutter. Without you realizing, Donghyuck’s presence has painted your ordinary days in a color of hope, wrapping you in a feeling of safety whenever you’re with him and making you become way too comfortable around him. And now that it’s come this far, you don’t know how you’re supposed to scratch off all that paint anymore. The thought alone makes you feel sick to the stomach - you shouldn’t have been such an idiot. You knew where this would lead, and that you wouldn’t have the time to fool around with him anymore once you’ve graduated. A feeling of deep regret overcomes you.

You shouldn’t have said yes when he suggested leaving your class reunion together.

When you get home that day, you finally let yourself feel the full consequences of the past weeks filled with stress and you crash into your bed immediately. You haven’t planned to go to sleep this early, but at some point you simply find yourself drifting off, and the next time you open your eyes it’s Saturday morning.

Your body aches as you force yourself to get out of bed, and when you open the curtains and the sunlight blinds your eyes, you curse existence itself. You trod over to the bathroom, wash your face, and after finding yourself unable to look at your reflection in the mirror, you return to your little kitchen to get yourself a simple breakfast. Finishing it while scrolling through social media on your phone, you then get yourself back to your bed, plummeting down on it and grabbing one of the books stacked atop your bedside table that you never found the time to finish while uni has kept you occupied. You open it on the page you had left off weeks ago, and after fighting your way through roughly two and a half paragraphs, you give up and you put the book back to where it’s been resting untouched until now. Your mind just won’t let you focus on this now, so you pick your heavy body up off the comfortable sheets and decide to take a shower first of all.

Things continue like this for the next few days. Even though exams are finally over, you just can’t find it in you to rest properly. Neither going out to have fun nor staying at home and having some quality alone time sound appealing to you, and soon enough you figure out why. No matter what you do or where you are, there’s this constant pain in your chest dragging you down, because time and time again you find yourself impulsively wanting to tell Donghyuck about your day, or even just sending him a funny meme you found on instagram. But you can’t. In a way this reminds you of five years ago, when you started spending less and less time together in high school and then eventually broke up with each other. You recall finding yourself in situations like this back when you started college as well, wanting to tell him about something fun or exciting that happened but feeling unable to, because it’s already been months since you had last talked. However, there’s one significant difference between then and now.

Then, you merely found it a shame that you couldn’t freely text him or talk to him anymore. But you had moved on, finding new friends to talk to about those same things. Now, it’s like someone had torn a chunk of yourself out of your chest, and you’re slowly bleeding out as your nervous system prevents you from doing anything at all, signaling you that there must be a more urgent matter to take care of first. And only once you come to understand that this matter has to do with nothing other than Donghyuck himself, that’s when something finally connects in your mind. Your days have been painted with his colors, but maybe you’re not supposed to get rid of all that paint. Maybe you’re simply supposed to embrace it, because after all those years he’s become someone who’s just right for you. And maybe he’s become someone you can even come to love.

No, he’s already someone you love, you just never realized it.

Without thinking, you open your chatroom with Donghyuck, his last message still unanswered, and you start typing.

“I need to see you.”

“Now.”

You stand on his doorstep, taking a deep breath. Donghyuck had texted you back eventually, offering to meet at his place, so that’s where you are now, nervous to ring the doorbell. It was you who suddenly decided to come see him, so why are you so hesitant?

Another deep breath, exhaled shakily, and you reach out to press the bell button. Maybe 10 seconds later, the door opens, and when Donghyuck mutters a greeting with a distant expression in his eyes, it’s like a slap to your face.

“Come in, I guess,” he says as he’s already turning around, and you do as told. Taking your shoes off, you follow him a few steps inside, and shooting you a cold look, he asks, “What do you need to talk about?”

You’ve never seen him like this. Even when you broke up at the end of high school there wasn’t such a dark expression on his face. At that moment you have no idea how to shake off the guilt anymore, and so all you can do is let the words burst out of you.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry for doing this to you.” He watches you with a look over his shoulder and you let your head hang, hoping he isn’t aware of the way tears are welling up in your eyes. “I can’t imagine how much I must’ve hurt you.” You add those words through gritted teeth, afraid of a sob suddenly making its way past your lips if you’re not careful.

“Then why are you the one crying?” he asks, staying surprisingly calm.

“B-because…” You gulp, and figuring that it’s too late anyway, you lift your chin to look at him and you use the sleeves of your shirt to wipe the tears from your eyes. “Because I’m an idiot. And I don’t want to see the person I love suffer.”

“Y/N…” he breathes your name before turning around fully to face you. He steps closer, but still keeps a good distance between you two. “You rejected me only a few days ago…”

“I know.” Your words are merely a whisper now. “Because I was scared… the future seems so overwhelming that I kept thinking I don’t have space for something like this. But… that doesn’t mean… that I didn’t still fall in love with you.” Silence follows, the only sound disrupting it being the soft sigh Donghyuck lets out before he finally closes the distance between you.

“Can I… hold you?” You nod at his question and you let him come closer, until you find yourself safely wrapped into his embrace, his warm breath tickling your neck as he buries his face there.

“I’m so sorry for how I acted… you must really hate me now…” you mutter, and you’re almost startled when your friend lets out a laugh as he’s holding you.

“Yes, because I always go around hugging my enemies like this,” he says with a tired yet cheeky grin on his lips, and seeing that expression on his face suddenly washes all your worries away.

“Right…”

“It’s okay, Y/N… I know you had a rough time. I shouldn’t have confessed to you so suddenly either,” he apologizes, but you immediately shake your head, vigorously.

“No, don’t say sorry! I… I kind of get it… that it had to get out,” you say. “Especially after I said all those hurtful things to you.” He brings one hand up to your cheek, brushing his knuckles against the skin there and as his eyes scan your facial features you can unmistakably see how much he adores you. It makes your heart soar, and you part your lips as your gaze falls to his mouth.

“Y/N,” he calls out to you. “Does that mean… I can ask you to be my girlfriend now?”

“Sure…” you mumble, the urge to feel his lips on yours clouding your mind. “And when I’m your girlfriend… can you kiss me then?”

“Of course,” he chuckles, and he takes a tiny step away from you so he could take your hands into his, intertwining your fingers. “Y/N, would you be my girlfriend?” You can’t suppress the smile that creeps onto your face as you listen to his question, and you nod.

“Yes, please,” you answer. “Let me be your girlfriend.” And then he kisses you, slowly and carefully, and this time you aren’t confused on what those feelings he’s pouring into this kiss are. This time you know that it’s all the love he has for you, and you let it wrap you into a veil of warmth and comfort, feeling safe with him.

“I love you,” you mutter in between kisses, and eventually your hands find their way up into his hair. You kiss him back as you comb through it, and when you hear him whisper those same words back at you in between kisses, you once again can’t control the smile on your lips. You part to look at each other, finding an unmistakable desire for more behind his gaze, and so you begin moving as you connect your lips to his again.

"I'm sorry..." you mutter in between kisses, as you're steering him towards the bedroom, and he lets out a sigh against your lips in response. "I want to make it up to you."

"You don't have to," Donghyuck mutters with his hands on your waist, and you reach the bed, positioning yourselves so you could have him sit with one swift push against his chest. Crawling on top of him as he merely looks up at you, eyes half-lidded and lips slightly parted while he awaits your next kiss, he's already completely drunk on you.

"Then see it as me taking care of you?" you whisper, reconnecting your lips to his. Your arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders and him having his hands securely placed on your sides for stability, you merely keep kissing like that. Unhurriedly, because now you both know there's nothing rushing you anymore, nothing that would tear you apart.

"I love you." He mutters those words as you part, and when you open your eyes you can see him already nervously peeking up at you. You can't help but smile endearingly, cupping his cheek with one hand before you lean in for another sweet kiss to his reddened lips.

"I love you too, Hyuck," you say just when you pull back, and you let your fingertips wander down his upper body. Watching his face closely for his reactions, you pull his shirt off him, tossing it to the floor, and then you add, "Lie down for me, baby. I'll make you feel good." It comes as a surprise even to you to see him obey so quickly, and you let your palm glide down the bare skin on his chest and abdomen as he lies back. And then, when you reach for his wrists to pin them against the bed right next to his head, you can see a slight but still apparent blush creeping onto his cheeks, and he lets out a sound that's somewhere between a groan and a quiet whine.

"Fuck, you make me go crazy," you mutter as you press another kiss to his puffy lips, and when you sink your teeth into his bottom lip he moans into your mouth, the act alone sending heatwaves through your body. You instinctively roll your hips on top of his, earning yourself another small mewl from him, and then you trail kisses from the corner of his mouth to his throat. He leans his head back to give you better access, brows furrowed as he sighs in contentment. Forming his hands into fists, he digs his nails into his palms and whines some more as you continue grinding down on him, and the way you feel him grow underneath you turns you on as well. And then eventually you let go of his wrists to work your way down, peppering kisses all over his chest as he immediately throws his arms around your body, holding onto you tightly.

"Hyuck..." you call out his name as you sit up briefly, and then you continue trailing nips and kisses down his body. "Let me hear you." He curses as your hand ghosts above his core, watching you with an expectant gaze in his eyes. You pull down the sweatpants he's wearing, and then his underwear, both just enough so his hard length is exposed. You wrap your fingers around him, and you kneel above him now, one of his thighs positioned between your legs, so you could get a good look at his face as you start to slowly jerk him off.

"Look at me," you demand, and he does, the blush returning to his cheeks.

"Faster..." he mutters, barely audible, and you teasingly ask him to repeat himself. "Faster, please..." he begs through gritted teeth, and when you tighten your grip on his shaft just a little bit, he responds with a moan. "Can't take it..."

"Are you gonna let me hear more of those pretty moans?" you question, lips quivering in anticipation.

"Y-yes..." You don't know if your mind is tricking you or if his blush is growing just a bit darker as he answers, but either way you begin to move your hand faster, having him whining underneath you as he throws his head back. You watch with your lips slightly parted, and it's not like you've never seen him like this before, but there's just something about the way he gives himself up to pleasure when you have him in this kind of position that always gets you going. You move your hips in tune with the speed at which you get him off, grinding your clothed core down on his thigh, and he pushes his leg up just a bit to give you more friction.

"Shit..." you hiss, pleasure clouding your mind, and Donghyuck reaches down to wrap his fingers around your hand, guiding you into a faster pace. You collect the precum leaking his tip and use it as lube to glide down his length more smoothly, and as you can see on his face that he's about to lose himself to the sensation, you mutter a warning, "Don't cum yet."

"But-" he whines, and you take your hand away just before he can reach his high. "Y/N..." he desperately whines your name and you lean in to press a soothing kiss somewhere onto his chest, and then another one against his cheek.

"I wanna have you cumming inside me," you whisper, and when you sit back up you quickly rid yourself of all your clothes, in the end helping him out of his pants as well. You crawl on top of him, your hands placed on his shoulders for support, and you let out a curse as you roll your hips against him, his tip rubbing against your folds. And once again he whines, pressing his eyes tightly shut and digging his nails into your hips.

"Just fuck me already..." he breathes, but you have other plans.

"Be good and I will, baby," you coo as you repeat your motion without letting him slip inside you. He begins to squirm underneath you, visibly fighting to suppress his orgasm, and you swear you could cum from the sight alone. "Fuck... you're so fucking hot like that, Hyuck..." you mutter through gritted teeth, his repeated whines sounding like music to your ears.

"C-can't... hold back..." And once again you stop the stimulation just as he's about to cum, and with a frustrated groan he throws his head back into the mattress, dragging his nails down your skin. You reach for his hands, and as you intertwine your fingers you pin them above his head, and you can't but coo over the desperate look he gives you, and the way his cheeks are reddening again.

"You gonna cum right when I take you in, aren't you?" you ask, smirking at him after pressing a kiss to his forehead. "So desperate for my pussy..." And he can't do anything but whine at your words, because you both know you're right, and him denying it would just make him look stupid. "Then cum for me, baby," you mutter against his lips as you seal them with yours, running your tongue along his mouth to deepen the kiss. You sink down on him, taking in his size with ease, and the second you start rolling your hips he releases inside you as he moans into your mouth. Heat rushes through your veins when you part and you sit up, letting go of his wrists and combing the fingers of one hand through his disheveled hair instead.

"Didn't think you really would cum the instant you're inside me," you mock him, earning yourself another whine from him. "And I bet you're also gonna be hard again in no time if I keep this up," you mumble, rolling your hips on top of him slowly. "Such a sucker for when I'm in control, huh?"

"Yeah..." he breathes out, and you unexpectedly feel your heart swell at his answer. Usually he'd be fighting back by now, trying to battle you for dominance or at least being bratty, but today you really just have him at your mercy unconditionally.

"Is it because I finally said that I love you?" you conclude, as if he had heard your thought process.

"Huh?" You run your fingers through his hair again, and then you lean in for another deep kiss.

"Do you like it that much when I play with you like this, or are you being good because you're scared I'll leave if you're not perfect for me?" Donghyuck stares at you for a while as you sit back up, the blush on his cheeks fading, and when he finally reaches out to you to press your body against his for a tight embrace, he answers,

"No, I trust you. And I kinda like it when you sometimes use me." A storm of emotions washing over you, you bring some distance between you and him slowly, and after mustering his genuine expression for a while, you reach for his hands once again.

"Don't touch me," you order as you put them back into their place above his head. "And don't cum until I tell you to. If you wanna be my little toy you gotta be good, alright?"

"Alright." He gulps, taking you in as you're sitting on top of him, starting to ride him with one hand sliding down your body, fingertips reaching your core to give yourself some extra stimulation. Eyes dripping with honey, he keeps his hands in place, and the more you can feel him growing inside you, the more you can also see him struggling to keep his composure.

"Fuck, you're so sexy," he mutters eventually, and you hum a praise to signal him to keep going. "Feels so good... wanna be good for you..."

"That's right..." you mutter, your eyelids fluttering shut as you bounce on top of him, rubbing circles onto your clit. You position yourself so that everytime you sink down on him his tip would graze that perfect spot inside you, and along with listening to his words and the way his voice starts shaking from the pleasure has you seeing stars soon enough.

"U-use me, please... wanna feel you cum on my cock..." he sputters, and you moan at his pleas.

"Doing so well for me, baby... shit, nobody could ever make me feel as good as you..." He whines desperately as you keep your pace slow, in hopes of bringing him as close as possible to the edge as you're racing towards your own high. "Hyuck..." you mutter his name, your voice trembling. "Cum with me." Another moan falling from his lips and you feel yourself shaken by your orgasm, clenching around him as he spills inside you a second time.

"Shit..." With a curse you collapse on top of him, finding him wrapping his arms around you in a comforting motion, and you add, "You were amazing." He nuzzles his face into the side of your head, lips brushing against your temple, and once you've caught your breath a bit you give him a proper kiss. "I'm sorry... for trying to push you away like th-" Donghyuck puts his index finger across your lips, shutting you up in the process, and with a soft smile he shakes his head.

"Stop apologizing," he says. "It's okay now. Let's focus on the future, and how we can build it together." His hand cupping your face and his thumb brushing against your cheek make your heart skip a beat, and you simply nod.

"You're right," you respond, and you lie back down on top of him, nestling into his chest. "If we just have each other, we can make it through anything."

656 notes · View notes

blublublujk · 6 months

Text

bound 2 (falling in love)

oneshot

word count: 6.5k

genre: fwb to lovers

pairing: yoongi x reader

summary:

You and Yoongi were okay with being friends with benefits... until you weren't.

warnings: i tried to focus on fluff (did you catch it or did i fail), explicit sexual content; unprotected sex (they make love to each other), choking and breath play (hello it's yoongi), multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, crying (is it really my ff if there's no crying involved), creampie, very cute aftercare and i think that’s all, this is more sweet than anything lol

a.n: believe it or not this wasn't apart of my drafts i wrote this all one night because i couldn't sleep so thank my insomnia for this, it was about time i write about yoongi :D

also i noticed a lot of you are reading it was destiny and love always wins and i wish you guys wouldn't only because i plan to rewrite some of it and continue them at a further time (chaptered ffs are so hard for me rn since i don't have all the time in the world to dedicate myself to them but i promise to be back with those two series) thank you for everyone who takes time to read what i write it really means so much and your comments have been so motivating. thank you so fucking much for 2k notes on good girl, gone bad i havent seen numbers like that ever im so so grateful, thank you from the bottom of my heart. i'll try to be back one or two more times this month and happy late birthday to me hehe <3

—> m.list

—> welcome me on ao3 & twt

—-

It happened again.

Another failed date to add to the sad list of people that simply will never workout for you.

The list was growing longer as months passed. When you started this list, it was barely the start of a very hot summer. Probably the hottest it’s been in years, one can only assume the winter will not be any easier.

And you were right. Winter was only beginning and it was brutally cold. The streets were moist from the previous night of harsh rainfall.

What better time to date and settle down than now. When the world gives you rain, settle for the warm arms of a lover.

Unfortunately, you made a grave mistake thinking this would come easy. Ten first dates later and you are still very single and loverless.

It is not easy to go out during a time like now, suffering at the sight of happy couples and their stupid happy lives. Really, it should disgust you. It used to. The whole concept of devoting your entire life to someone. The need to constantly feel the tender touch of another person. The desire to fall in love and do it all over again, you get it now. At least, you think you do.

“I don’t think this is gonna work.” The words fall from your mouth in a quiet rush. The man across you sits in silence before he smiles in his loss.

“Don’t worry, I figured. It seems your mind was elsewhere. I know you don’t want to pursue anything romantically, and that’s fine with me, but is everything okay?”

Is everything okay? Well currently, yeah you’re okay. As for your heart, it’s heavy and strangely, you feel there’s a hole in your chest and it needs to be filled. That would fix things, you think. You have been single for so long that you forgot what it was like to love and cherish someone. Not that you have ever truly loved or cherished anyone, but you’ve gotten close. If a silly relationship you had in your sophomore year of high school counts. Then yes, you’ve totally been in love.

“I’m okay. Thanks for asking. I didn’t mean to lead you on, if it ever felt like I did.” The apology seems bitter in your mouth. Another failed fucking attempt. How difficult can dating be? Have you really been this disconnected with the world around you?

“Don’t stress it! Things happen. I hope you can find what you’re looking for. See you… around?” The man’s understanding response makes you feel worse. Maybe you should consider deleting Tinder and finding love naturally, if that’s still a thing in the contemporary life.

“Yeah, totally!” And like that you’re off to the next. Giving yourself plenty of time to bathe in your disappointment and miserably cry about your failed attempts at finding what you’ve been missing. Who knew dating could be so difficult?

The walk back home is just as cold as the outcome of today’s date. Your date insisted he could drive you home and if not that then pay for a cab, but you didn’t live too far from the restaurant you both met at. Though he insisted, you figured this walk could refresh you after yet another failure. You were starting to regret it as the cold wind started roughly hitting your skin. Preserving the chilly weather, you genuinely couldn’t wait to get home and wrap yourself in a bundle of warm blankets and comfortable clothes.

Cold hands struggle to open your door, you blow on them with warm puffs of breaths, soon making your way in and getting comfortable in your humble apartment.

yoon: you up?

And that, that is what made this harder. The fact that you knew there was someone completely capable of loving and caring for you the way you desired. You have seen it with your own eyes. Every time you ended up in his bed, in his arms, you felt it. Deep down you know something is there and that something beats everything else. Maybe you’re just delusional, but you look for him in everyone else and you hate it. Hate because you will never be anything more than his personal little whore that comes at the sound of his call.

me: yeah

Normally, you aren’t dry over texts, especially not with him so he’ll see right through you. You’re hoping for once, he can ignore it.

He won't.

yoon: you ok?

me: been better

yoon: wanna talk about it?

me: no, i'm ok

yoon: ok, wanna come over?

Yes, because during a time like this all you want is the comfort and warmth of someone else’s touch and Yoongi has never failed at giving that to you. But he is not yours.

And you are not his.

me: not feeling well. sorry.

yoon: sick?

A white lie never hurt anyone.

me: yeah, throat hurts

yoon: im sorry

me: it's not your fault maybe another time.

Though you really shouldn’t say that. There should be no next time. That way you don’t suffer any longer and drag him down with you, considering everything you’ve been feeling and dealing with lately. It’s not fair to Yoongi, but especially yourself.

He doesn’t reply anymore and you can’t even hide your disappointment. You aren’t disappointed at him, okay maybe a little bit at him, but mainly yourself and your recently found complicated feelings.

You and Yoongi started this whole mess a year ago, before you even realized what you truly wanted. It started off with subtle flirting here and there. They say not to mess with coworkers, given that it can complicate things at work and one should never play with their main source of income, but you did it anyway. You are still young and he only made you feel younger, like a teenage girl crushing over her forbidden crush at church. It was silly, but Yoongi made it easy.

The flirting turned to one thing, then another.

“We shouldn’t, not here.” Yoongi had you pinned outside the club you both worked at, leaving trails of wet kisses down your throat.

“Five more minutes.” His words were muffled into your skin as his hands explored your body. Yoongi’s touch was always way too soft for his own good and you fell victim to his deadly warmth.

“If Mr. Kim finds out, he’ll kill us and fire us both.” That was a bit dramatic on your part and you swore you felt the taller smiling against your neck.

Yoongi drops one last kiss on your cheek as his hot breath hits your ear. “Not if I kill him first.”

You gasped, pushing him off you with a quick smack to his chest. “D-Don’t even joke like that.”

Yoongi just laughed.

“Okay, okay baby.” The term of endearment fell from his lips too easily and you melted into the dark night. “See you after work?”

You only nodded, not being able to deny his temporary warmth and sweet presence. Then he dropped a kiss on your lips, leaving you just as quick as when he first found you. You were fucked.

From there, it only got worse for your sake. Your heart could only take so much.

Really, you should blame things on him. It was his fault you fell in love with him and his stupidly soft hands. It was all his fault! He left you no choice but to love the feel of his lips against your skin, to easily melt under his soft gaze, and find comfort in his unnecessarily warm bed. Yoongi was perfect. Everything you could ever want.

That’s why it was so fucking hard. Dating was hard enough, but after feeling Yoongi’s intimate touch, you were a complete goner. Though he was far from it, Yoongi touched you like you were his and he would fuck you like a lover would. Kissing and making love to you as if you were the most beautiful woman on Earth. It was all too much.

Fuck, you really needed to get a grip.

The knock on your door makes you jump from your couch.

Ten minutes longer and you would have fallen asleep exactly where you were lying. In outside clothes and all. You didn’t even bother taking off the outfit you had carefully planned thinking that this lucky outfit would have finally taken you somewhere. It didn’t.

“Coming!” There’s not a single person that should be outside your door, especially at this hour. Your feet make their way to the door regardless and the blood from your face drains when you see the person standing behind the door.

Quickly, you unlock your front door, rushing the taller inside. “Hurry! It’s freezing! What are you doing out here?”

Yoongi’s cheeks are surely frozen, a pink dust decorates his cheeks and the tip of his nose. It almost makes him look cute. You were far more gone than you imagined.

He hustles inside, carrying a fairly large brown bag with him. He brought… groceries?

“Took you long enough.” The taller one makes himself at home, laying his bag on your coffee table.

“What are you even doing here?” You ask again.

He ignores you. “Thought you said you were sick. You don’t look very sick?”

Yoongi looks at you with a questioning look, his eyes wander your outfit and guilt starts eating your insides.

You cross your arms, an attempt to hide yourself in shame, but what’s done is done. “I- I had plans.”

“Yeah, I see that.” He simply says, standing awkwardly in your living area.

If this doesn’t convince you to delete that forsaken app for the sake of your dignity and shameful behavior, you don’t know what will.

“Anyways, w-what brings you here?”

“Brought you some stuff.” His hand waves over to the bag he carried inside.

“Stuff?” You question, a bit dumbfounded, planted still in your place.

“Tea, cough drops, some soup I made earlier this week. Oh and flowers.” Yoongi doesn’t seem at all embarrassed or fazed about the situation. Not that he should be, but he speaks with a puff to his chest, as if he wanted to ensure you understood his every word and action. Like any concerned lover would be. As if he was yours and you were his.

Oh.

This was so so bad. For you and your weak heart. Fuck.

“I-“

He cuts you off before you even get to speak. “I don’t know if you’ll like it. It’s just some plain seaweed soup. Usually helps me when I’m sick. I’m not sure what flowers you like, or if you even like flowers. Do you? Their tulips. I did a bit of research before. My mom likes tulips. I figured you might like them too.”

He did research? Double fuck!

Yoongi was nervously rambling, now he was slightly embarrassed. Pink flushes his cheeks and it wasn’t the weather’s doing this time.

“Yoongi…” You start breathlessly and in disbelief.

“What?” He nearly stutters, his hand is shaking. He’s nervous. Who would have thought?

“Why.” Is all you manage to ask.

“You were sick.” Is all he replies. As if things were really that simple. What next? Would he come rushing to the hospital if you suddenly fell ill? God forbid, but it was a valid question.

What was going on? For a second, you entertain the idea. Maybe he fell in love between the blurry lines of this complicated relationship. Were the shared intimate memories too special for him to forget too? You weren’t sure anymore, but what did this all mean? Maybe he loves you, as much as you love him.

Thoughts keep spinning and you wish there was an easier way to turn off your brain. Not now.

“I know, but why? Why all this? Why for me?” Your vulnerability is showing and it makes you feel weak. Maybe your hands are shaking too.

“I don't understand?” Yoongi searches for the answer in your glossy eyes, he’s tempted to reach out and comfort you. Have you in his hands, but he’s too coward. He doesn’t want you to feel the shiver of his touch right now. His vulnerability peaks through as well.

Why not you? It’s always going to be you.

“I-I’m nothing to you.” There’s a shiver again and then you break.

Yoongi doesn’t care anymore. He’ll consider the consequences later. Right now, none of it matters.

His hands hold your face, ready to wipe the tears that threaten to leak from your precious eyes. He hopes his hands aren't cold anymore from standing outside for so damn long, but he couldn’t stop himself, in his selfishness and all.

His hands shake slightly, trying to stay strong as he lays it all on the table. “Y/N, you’re everything to me.” He whispers, eyes never leaving yours.

You lay your own hands on his, you feel so delicate around him when you wrap warm hands around his cold wrists.

“I-I am?” You ask between sniffles. His hands are still pretty cold, but they’ll soon warm up against your soft skin. Nobody knows how desperately you need to be touched until you are and then it’s like little fireworks spark inside your body. It consumes you in the best way possible.

“Of course. I thought I made that obvious.” His eyes are soft, different to how he typically looks at you, but you’ve seen these same eyes before. They are no stranger. It’s similar to the look he gives you when you catch him staring at you while you are deep in work. He pretends to look away as if he wasn’t admiring you from afar and you pretend that you don’t notice his curious eyes. It’s the same look he has after you both end up in heated makeout sessions, behind the rusty club you both work at. And it’s definitely the same look he has while he settles on top of you, whispering sweet words of praise and promise.

Nothing should feel different but it just does, there’s something in the way he looks down at you that lets you know that everything you’ve been searching for has always been right here. Right where you’ve been all along.

The taller leans in and you freeze struggling to keep your eyes on his. Yoongi’s thumb brushes against your cheek with a soft touch. You were fragile between his hands and he’s willing to do anything to keep his precious flower safe. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes. Please.” You whisper back in a hurry, scared that this would be nothing but a dream. It wasn’t time for you to wake up yet.

His eyes zero-in on your lips and then he’s kissing you. It’s not much different from other times. After all, you guys have shared plenty of kisses, probably more than you should have considering you guys were friends with benefits, at most. But this time, the kiss isn’t just a careless lust-filled doing, no this time the kiss is a promise. The promise to never again allow you to question his feelings and intentions towards you.

If Yoongi has to spend his whole life making this up to you, he simply would because that’s how much you meant to him. He can’t believe he even let this go on for this long. He should have been more clear and careful, but he doesn’t regret a damn thing. Not when he has all the time in the world to repair the time lost. And especially not when his reckless actions led him to this. To you.

Yoongi’s lips are soft and bend with yours with ease. He takes his time, never in a rush. Especially not when he has you in-hand.

The taller doesn’t escalate the kiss. He keeps it sweet and gentle, like he always has been. “I’m so sorry baby.”

Kiss.

“For?”

Kiss.

Yoongi has the whole world in his hands right now as he looks down into the sparkles in your eyes and he’s never been so sure about anything in his life. “For being a fucking idiot.”

Kiss.

“It’s okay.” A kiss is shared again. “I was an idiot too. I was just scared that you wouldn’t want that with me.”

“Want what?” The taller questions, fingers trailing your face, admiring the imperfections and all.

“A relationship, I mean. You seemed content with how our relationship already was. I was afraid of losing that. Of losing you.” You admit, eyes fluttering at his touch.

“Of course, I want that. I want that and more. I-I’m not the best with relationships. I’m only saying this because I want to be open and honest with you. There’s not a second you aren’t on my mind. While at work, you are all I can see. In a crowd of a hundred, my eyes always find yours. I don’t know how to explain what you do to me. But I don’t mind. I think if I ever lost that, I would lose my mind. So I’m sorry if I ever made you feel the opposite. There’s so much more I want to say, but I just don’t know how. I want that. I want that so bad. A relationship and whatever more you give me. I might not be the best boyfriend but I’ll do whatever it takes. I- I love you.” Yoongi’s words are heartfelt and he’s so relieved. One because he’s been keeping this in for so long, any longer and he would have exploded, but second because he’s been dying to say those three words. He really does love you and Yoongi doesn’t love many people in life, but if he had to choose, it’s always gonna be you.

The tears that were creeping on your eye-lids fall prettily down your face, but Yoongi comes to your rescue. He’s quick to wipe them off your pretty face, tempted to kiss them away, but he keeps that in for now. “Y-Yoongi… I love you too. So much. I think I always have. You are so easy to love. The way you look at me, care for me, and always show up for me. That says more about you than anything else. I tried dating to get over what I felt for you, as you can probably tell, but nothing worked. It was so easy, Yoongi. So easy to fall in love with you. You’re perfect and I don’t doubt that you’ll be the best even after all this. I love you.”

“I love you too, I love you. Fuck, I love you.” Yoongi kisses you again and this time he isn’t as gentle. His lips are still soft as ever as they curl around yours. His tongue comes out and you immediately allow access, letting him explore your mouth. The taste is much better now that there isn’t anything you both are holding back. Everything down on the line and you couldn’t be happier. The hole in your heart was never empty, it was just waiting for this exact moment to remind you that you’ve always had it all.

“Yoongi.” In between breaths you call his name and Yoongi feels his knees lock. “Take me to bed.”

Yoongi just nods in a trance with the way your tone drips of arousal. A long strand of hair falls on his face when he picks you up with ease off your feet. He takes you to the place he’s had the honor to visit a hundred times before, but it’s different this time, much different.

In the process of it all, something falls and it causes you both to laugh until you run out of breath.

“I can’t believe that just happened.” You laugh into his ear. “You owe me a new lamp. My mother bought me that, you know. House-warming gift.”

“Fuck, sorry.” Yoongi mumbles near a whisper as he grips you harder like he’s afraid he might drop you next and the idea makes you giggle because you know he would never purposely hurt you. “I’ll apologize to your mother directly. Buy you and her a new lamp, whatever it takes.”

“What makes you think you are meeting my mother?” You tease with a smile on your face, watching the blush rise on his cheeks.

“Well, I figured we could, you know, if you would like–” Yoongi doesn’t often get shy about many things but he can’t keep calm around you and that kills him softly.

“I’m just teasing you.” You say and he bites his lip. “Of course you’ll meet my mother and my father and my nosy ass family. I hope you like annoying, persistent grandma’s that stuff you full. My grandma’s the worst of her kind, but she’ll love you.”

“I would love to.” Yoongi simply replies, still whispering as if you guys had to keep quiet or else you’d be in deep trouble.

“Why are we still whispering?” You whisper back, roaming fingers through his long, gorgeous hair. He needs to remind you to thank his mother personally for insisting he keep his hair long because it made him look pretty and you could never disagree. Yoongi’s so pretty.

“I-I don’t know.”

You both smile at each other before sharing another kiss. It’s so sweet and if you weren’t already off your feet, you would be floating by now. He’s gentle when letting you drop into the sheets below, he finds space between your legs and you wrap them around his hips. Lips still in contact, never losing the plushy feel.

Everything starts to feel hot. Your hips start to slowly grind against his begging for any sort of friction. But the kissing doesn’t stop.

Not when you start whining against his lips.

Not even when Yoongi starts trailing his fingers down your waist and around your curves. He teases his fingertips against your waistline, soft to the touch.

It’s not until you mewl loudly into his mouth, skillful tongue playing with yours, as you feel him start unbuckling your pants, button-by-button.

Yoongi’s eyes are heavy-lidded, his gaze burning fire. “Gonna take care of you now, is that okay?”

You furiously nod, coming up to kiss him once more, both your lips are raw and sensitive, but it gives you more of a reason to fix it with even more kisses.

He drops one quick kiss onto your mouth before he trails down your jaw. Yoongi breathes in the sweet scent on your skin, wishing he could feel you even closer. “Smell so damn good.”

His voice is raspy against your ear and it makes you blush, while you feel his hand finally touch you where you had been aching with need. “Wanna hear you.”

Breathing lightly, you whisper. “Make me.”

And of course, Yoongi makes you regret how fast you said the words because he delves his fingers forward with little resistance. Two fingers stretch you at the same time, gasping at the sudden sensation.

By now, you were molded to fit Yoongi’s fingers. On days where you were really in need, you would take four, all at once. Yoongi was best at reading every expression, every crease and scrunch to your face, especially emotions. He knew exactly how to curve his fingers, the way to build you up, and bring you back down. Yoongi knew it all and he was so lucky too.

He never anticipated it would have gone this far. It was just sex to begin with. But who were you both kidding, it was always much, much more.

Yoongi curves his fingers in the way he’s used to and watches your mouth drop, sweet noises soon leaving your lips. “Feels good?”

There’s no need to ask because he can tell. Your expression tells him everything he needs to know. That and the fact that you are dripping around his fingers but it’s sexier hearing it from you.

“Yeah… f-feels so good.” With his other hand he tugs your clothes off, leaving you bare on the bottom. Remembering the first few times is a bit embarrassing, but Yoongi always made sure to take his time and make you feel comfortable. It was special and memorable in its own way, and Yoongi felt it too.

This is unlike any first time, but it was technically the first time you could officially make love to each other until you fall lovesick and that had to be impossible around someone like Yoongi.

“Hold your legs open for me, flower.” You try to ignore the warm feeling that buzzes in your chest, but you are sure your face says it all. Without another word, you spread your legs open, tucking both hands behind your thighs.

“Flower?” You breathe out with a bit of a struggle as his two fingers continue to pump deep inside you, brushing repeatedly against your g-spot.

“Do you not like it?” Yoongi smiles slightly, biting his bottom lip while he watches you start to tremble, making the prettiest sounds.

“I do. Why the new name?” Voice a bit unsteady but it does the job. Yoongi thinks of all the times he thought you were as pretty as a flower, which really was all the time. Especially, in the way he has you right now. Pretty, pretty as a flower.

“I’ve always wanted to call you that. You’re pretty, sweet, delicate. Just like a flower.” He justifies his reasoning and you melt into puddles.

“Yoongi.” Voice sweet as honey.

“Yes baby.” He replies with ease.

“Make love to me, Yoongi.”

There was a time in his life where Yoongi believed he could live without love. How foolish of him to think so. When he met you, it was a complete three-sixty. Suddenly, Yoongi started to look forward to his shit job. He looked forward to that time between breaks where he could admire you from the back like a pinning loser. Yoongi even started to like the walks he had to take to get to work because he knew that the path would eventually lead to you. He started looking forward to tomorrow's and to the bright future that led ahead. His mom would often complain that he was wasting his life away waiting for it to start, but Yoongi thinks life truly started the day he met you.

It was a bit awkward because you couldn’t even look him in the eyes, intimated by the staff and new environment. You had previously worked in different bars so you assumed it would be no different and it wasn’t, but the intimidation of a new job was there nonetheless. Yoongi was there every step of the way. He had a crush on the new employee and you needed help on fitting in. Either way, your friendship was very platonic until it wasn’t.

Yoongi knows he should have said something along the lines “hey, maybe we shouldn't be doing this anymore. I’m in love with you and I have been since you started working here” but the stupid words never made it out. He felt it would be too much to hear and it would only make him look like a complete loser.

And you felt the same. It was silly really, because everyone around you knew it and there was no reason to fear someone as easy going and non-judgemental as Yoongi, nonetheless it brought you both here. After many failed dating attempts, you were finally happy and in the arms of someone who you truly love and want to be loved by.

There was a time in his life where Yoongi believed he could live without love, now Yoongi believes your precious, sweet love brought him back to life and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

Clothes now discarded on the floor, heavy breathing filling the room, and Yoongi could get wasted on the smell of your intoxicating perfume. “Breathe flower.”

Yoongi felt you shiver at the sound of his words, throwing your head back as he thrusts you full of cock. He pushes inside you with gentle movements, struggling to keep himself up while feeling the tug of your warm velvet-like walls.

You gasp feeling him hit your cervix in a calm, slow pace. It was breathtaking regardless of the gentle rhythm. “You’re so deep...”

“I know flower, breathe baby, breathe.” He is struggling to keep from coming inside you, overwhelmed by his own emotions as your eyes roll back, feeling the pressure rise in your belly. Without a condom, everything feels so different from other times, feeling every ridge and crease fold inside your drenching heat. You take him so nicely, like you always have. Like you’ve always belonged to him.

You don’t even notice you stopped breathing until you start feeling lightheaded and desperate for fresh air. Breathing just as much as necessary so you don’t faint, you shake your head against his hold, his eyes watch yours, observing with curiosity.

“No?”

“Mm, n-no.” You shake your head again, whimpering when you feel him kiss your cervix with his swollen tip, over and over and over. “Can– can you…”

“Can I what, pretty flower?” Yoongi rolls his hips a bit faster, feeling his orgasm build too quickly. He wishes he could have days with you like this always. Days to love and worship you from head to toe.

“Choke me.” You manage to say. “Don— don’t wanna breathe.”

Yoongi growls deep, increasing his speed even more, desperate to fill the deepest part of your glistening folds. He feels you tense underneath, the sounds coming from your mouth are loud enough for your neighbors to hear, but Yoongi stopped giving a fuck about everything around him.

He places a hand on your throat and squeezes gently, not blocking off your airways completely, but leaving you just enough air to work with. It drives you insane. The more you breathe, his rough thrusts take the air out from your lungs and the process repeats. It feels so good.

“M-more. Harder.” You barely hear your own words, but Yoongi seems to understand because his dick is moving rapidly inside you, nearly splitting you in two. You wrap both hands around his wrist, loving the heavy weight against your chest. It’ll end too soon and it disappoints you in a way, but you have all the time in the world to make this up. “G-Gonna come.”

Yoongi nods, concentrating on the way your face scrunches with pleasure. With love. The way your eyes tell him a story. God, Yoongi’s madly in love. “Come, my precious flower.”

With those final words, you come on his bare slick cock, blossoming in the blissful afterglow. Yoongi doesn’t stop thrusting inside you, but he takes his hand off your throat, kissing your face gently when he sees tears start leaking down your cheeks.

“It’s okay, you’re okay baby. Breathe for me. Slowly.” Yoongi’s words bring you back down and you throw your arms around him, crying against his shoulder. You don’t even know what invoked this strong emotion to sob your eyes out, but Yoongi allows it, caressing the back of your head. Yoongi doesn’t judge, he only holds you until you settle down. “It’s okay baby, let it out. Breathe, pretty flower.”

“C-Come inside muh-me, please.” Even after all that, you still beg for him and Yoongi wants to laugh but for your sake and the fact that it’s endearing to him, he delivers accordingly without further questions.

Right as he’s going to paint your walls white, he pushes himself up with one hand, still holding you with the other. “You sure?”

You’re confused about the sudden question, the tears still decorate your face but then you understand. “Birth control. Just come in me Yoongi, fuck me, fu-fuck.”

Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to regain his brutal pace, fucking you with purpose. Not that he doesn’t want kids in the near future, but he sure as hell doesn’t want any right now. He’s glad you are on the same page but maybe one day the conversation would spark and he wouldn’t want the mother of his kids to be anyone else but you. You were perfect for him.

“Gonna come.” That’s the only warning you get, then he’s emptying himself inside your tight walls. He doesn’t stop rolling his hips, his slit leaking puddles, until he’s pumped himself dry. With one last thrust, he groans and carefully pulls out.

He brings you with him, head falling against his chest as he continues to play with your hair, leaving kisses into your bare shoulders. “You okay baby?”

“Perfect. Feel so good.” You mumble into his skin, feeling around his waist. “I’m leaking your come into the sheets though.”

“I’ll take care of it, pretty flower.” You nod sleepily into his chest with a quiet ‘thank you’, feeling completely sated and satisfied, aching with exhaustion. “Sleep baby, I got you.”

With that, you fall deep into the shackles of sleep. Yoongi rubs your back until you completely fall asleep in his arms. He struggles to unwrap himself from your hold, but when he finally succeeds, he tucks you in and kisses your cheek a few times before getting up to clean up after the mess you both created.

He’s light on his feet, bringing a warm towel to your slick folds and wipes as best he can, being gentle so you could continue to enjoy your sleep. Even like this, you look so beautiful and Yoongi is an extremely lucky man.

Yoongi makes sure to also pick up the lamp he dropped from earlier as well. He blows out a breath of relief when he notices that the damage is nothing big and nothing that can’t be fixed. He’ll make sure to fix that as soon as he can.

While he’s out there, Yoongi places the tulips into a vase and fills it with water, placing it near a window where it could grow and blossom beautifully near the sunlight. He even cuts the tips into slants because he had heard somewhere online they last longer that way, making sure to get rid of any dead leaves and petals. Yoongi couldn’t be happier.

After he’s done with the light cleaning, he washes his hands and feels the exhaustion hit him tenfold. He’s careful when placing himself back in bed, lifting your arm and placing himself underneath you. The man smiles when he feels you curl yourself around him, sleeping soundlessly.

“I love you.” He whispers and even though you don’t say it back Yoongi feels it with the way you melt into his arms. Yoongi falls asleep easily that night.

…

“Baby.” Yoongi hears someone call him and he ignores it. Sleep calls his name louder and he doesn’t feel like waking up right now so he groans and cuddles deeper into the bedsheets below him, unaware of the life around him.

“Baby wake up.” You keep calling sweetly and it’s tempting but he persists.

“No. Don’t wanna.” Yoongi grumbles like an old man and you can’t help but to laugh. “Just ten more minutes.”

When you woke up the next morning, you were so thankful Yoongi had kept his promise. Your apartment was flawless and you were as clean as you could be. The tulips looked prettier today as the sun shined on the delicate petals. You even had time to warm the seaweed soup he brought from home and you couldn’t wait to get a taste. The smell alone is delicious and it warmed your home up nicely, you truly couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that this was no longer a dream but your reality. You could definitely get used to this.

You drop kisses onto his warm cheeks until his eyes flutter open, almost similar to a cat. “There you are.”

Yoongi pulls you into his arms again with quiet noncoherent grumbles and closes his eyes once more. “Give me ten minutes.”

“It’s already been ten.” You whisper lightly laughing.

“Oh. Ten more then.” You get comfortable on his chest and cuddle for a bit longer because you can’t say no to his cute sleepy self.

Yoongi starts to sniff the air with curiosity. “Is that the seaweed soup I brought you?”

“Mhm.” You hum. “Better get up soon before it burns.”

That manages to be convincing enough and Yoongi forces himself up, with you in his embrace.

“Wanna wake up like that forever.” He says, voice filled with sleep.

“You can.”

Yoongi snaps his heavy eyes towards you. “Are you–”

“Move in with me, Yoongi.” Yes, you skipped every step to this, but nothing was ever to code between you and Yoongi. One thing you were so sure of and that was spending the rest of your life with him. “Please.”

“I- yes, of course.” Yoongi wraps his arms around you for a tight hug, kissing your temple. “I love you. I love you and I’ll prove it to you every single day.”

“I know, I love you too. I love you.” Those three words come out from your mouths so easily and it’s nice that you no longer have to ever hold back. The man of your dreams is in the palms of your humble home and he’s in love with you. This was better than any dream.

“Let’s eat?” He says after some time of hugging and kisses being interchanged.

You nod, letting him take you there. Your kitchen is filled with the cruel aroma of food and your tummy rumbles as you sit comfortably while you wait for him to serve you a bowl of the warm tasty soup.

“I should be doing that. I’m a terrible host.” Yoongi shakes his head while smiling, the fluff of hair moving with him, then your phone dings. “Hold on, give me a second.”

Your heart drops when you see it is a Tinder notification from a man you promised to get back to. You look over to find Yoongi serving your bowl, making his way to the table. He leans in puckering slightly and you immediately lean into the sweet sudden kiss while he places your meal in front of you. This Yoongi is new because it wasn’t often you could act domestically towards one another, however this was perfect and just what you needed.

“Everything okay baby?” Yoongi asks while caressing your soft cheek and you immediately nod in his palm.

“Yes, everything’s perfect.” You reply in awe. “Thank you Yoongi, for everything.”

For letting me love you and for loving me back.

The older man just smiles and joins you for the meal.

It turns out you didn’t need Tinder after all.

You quickly delete the app off your phone and start to eat with the love of your life, conversation flows while you enjoy each other’s presence and fall deeper in love.

Alike Yoongi, you couldn’t imagine it happening any other way. You were bound to fall in love, one way or another, but that man was meant to be yours as you were meant to be his.

#yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #bts fanfic #yoongi x reader #bts fluff #bts x y/n #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #bts smut

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struniolos · 7 months

Text

wish you were sober! pt. 1

“kinda hope you're followin' me out, but this is definitely not my crowd.”

chris sturniolo x fem! reader.

synopsis: when reader is overwhelmed at a party & finds herself in unlikely company. (no fame au.)

warnings: none!

“i’m just going to do another shot!” one of your friends yells in your ear, trying to overpower the music thudding in the background. two other join her, linked arms, as they make their way to the kitchen. you wonder who’s house this even is, as you hadn’t been invited directly, only dragged along as a plus one.

you are now left with two of your friends, who both look at you with raised brows. the thick summer air only gets worse as you feel like you’re being closed in on.

“aren’t you going to do shots? you’ve barely drank anything tonight.” one asks, tilting her head.

“i really don’t feel great.” you confess, your face screwing up in bitterness. your stomach ached, as well as what felt like your brain thrashing around in your skull, clawing at the inside.

“maybe try making yourself vomit? sometimes that helps.” the other suggests, trying her best to be accomodating in her drunken state, while clutching onto your arm for stability. it wasn’t a terrible idea, as you did feel like you were going to throw your guts up at any given moment. but also, it was a good excuse to disappear into the bathroom for a few minuets undisturbed.

“i might try that, thanks.” you force a smile, before quickly slithering out of their grip, and making a bee-line for the stairs which in that moment seemed like the stairs leading to heaven. peace and quiet.

you jog up the stairs, while trying to hold down your skirt so you don’t unintentionally flash your ex-classmates. the hot air seemed to be worse upstairs, and you knew it all too well from living in a two storey home your entire life. heat rises. why on earth did your foggy brain think it would be cooler up here?

you manage to find the bathroom, sighing in relief when you found it empty. you closed the door hurriedly behind you, and make your way to the sink. you run the cold water under your hands, splashing it on your flushed face. your mascara had started to smudge under your eyes from the heat, and your lipgloss had completely melted off. real classy. as you begin to wipe your fingers under your eyes, a knock on the door startles you.

“yeah?” you call, not hiding your frustration.

“can i come in?” the voice asks.

you sigh, throwing your head back. so much for peace and quiet. you throw open the door, shocked at who you find behind it. chris sturniolo. you knew him and his brothers didn’t go to parties, not even in high school. you wonder who or what dragged them to this one. he was a year older than you, but you were well aware of who he was. the star player on the lacrosse team.

“you mind if i chill in here for a bit?” he asks nonchalantly.

you’re now confronted with the option of being a douchebag and saying no, or saying yes and then trying to weasel your way out. you scan his face, the bags under his eyes, the muss of his hair from the heat. he looked exhausted, you imagine that’s how you looked, too.

“yeah, sure.” you shrug, opening the door wider for him to come in.

he immediately makes himself at home, hoisting himself to sit up on the bench beside the sink. you take in what he’s wearing, a black singlet and cargo shorts with ugg boots. definitely a choice.

“did i walk in on something or…like you weren’t crying or anything?” he asks, widening his eyes at you and freezing in place.

“oh! no, no not at all.” you smile awkwardly, shuffling on your feet.

“right, you just uh, look…” he trails off, waving his finger at you.

“terrible?” you answer with a defeated laugh.

he laughs. “yeah.”

you find yourself smiling a little, too. “i feel terrible.”

“me fucking too.” he sighs, leaning his head back onto the mirror and kicking his uggs off. you envied his confidence.

“so, what brings you to the bathroom chris sturniolo?” you ask as you put the toilet seat down to give yourself a surface to sit on.

he gives you a funny look, pouting his lip and raising an eyebrow. “how do you know who i am?”

“you were only the star lacrosse player of southeast high!” you taunt, holding a hand to your heart and mocking the many fan girls he had at his beck and call.

he tsks and rolls his eyes, “nah, matt was always miles better than me.”

“he was.” you lie, a smirk creeping up on your lips.

chris chuckles, shaking his head. “anyway, to answer your question, i’m trying to escape my very drunk and gross friends, one of them vomited on my shoe, look!”

he points to his discarded ugg boot, which you now see has a splatter of dark liquid on it, and you find yourself feeling sick. “fuck that’s gross.”

“i know right! but i’ve had enough anyway, i want to go home but matt’s driving and he’s not ready to go yet, neither is nick. at least they’re having fun.”

“and you don’t drink?” you ask, crossing your legs criss cross applesauce style.

“nah, me and my brothers are sober. just don’t really see the point in drinking. got nothing against it, just not my thing.”

“you know, don’t take this the wrong way but, i honestly pictured you as the frat boy type.”

“ha, i’m far from it.” he laughs, “but that’s what all the lacrosse boys were like. it was painful having to put up with it.”

“i can imagine.” you tell him.

there’s a lick of silence, and the bathroom was beginning to get stuffy- despite the window being open and letting a small breath of air through every now and then. you see chris wipe the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, puffing out a breath. “it’s so fucking hot i think i’m going to die.”

you found yourself in a daze, looking at him now, really looking at him. he was cute as hell, how had you never noticed? the way his hair hung just over his forehead, how his arms were softly toned…

“hey, i never got your name. that was rude of me.” he says, turning to you.

you tell him, and he nods his head. “you look like that’s your name.”

“what?”

“you know how some people look like their names? i feel like i don’t look like a chris.” he elaborated, waving his hands around to emphasise his point.

“yeah, maybe a chad.” you chuckle.

“if i was a chad, i’d have already kissed you.” chris tells you, not looking at you, more like he was talking to himself. speaking into the abyss.

you widen your eyes, “what?”

chris kicks his feet back and forth, hitting the cabinets below. “nothing.”

there’s a pause, the only sound you could hear was your breathing, surrounding you, suffocating. you decide to be bold. i mean, what was there to loose, anyway? you couldn’t just sulk alone all night.

“i mean, i wouldnt say no.” you confess, avoiding eye contact, looking down at his vomit splayed ugg boot, discarded on the tiles. although, you could feel his eyes on you.

“to what?” he says, more confidently.

“if…” you begin, now looking up at him and loosing your train of thought.

“i kissed you?”

you freeze, blinking a few times to check you weren’t hallucinating and that your drink hadn’t been spiked. after a few breaths, you realised he wasn’t going anywhere, and that he was right there. only a few steps away. yet you couldn’t find your feet, we’re you supposed to make the first move?

before you could continue the battle in your brain, chris had slid back down to his feet, his hands bracing on the bench behind him, arms flexed. he tilted his head at you, almost like a puppy, waiting. he was waiting for you.

you stand up, and slowly, ever so slowly, make your way towards him. you bite your lip, your breath quickening and heart thumping in your chest like it would pounce onto him if it could. how had your night turned so quickly? weren’t you downstairs wishing you were anywhere else only 20 minuets ago?

chris reached his hand out to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear, licking his lips. “you’re so pretty.”

you blush hard, looking down at your feet. “even with my smudged mascara?”

“yeah.” he chuckles, reaching for your hand to pull you closer to him.

you were now face to face, your eyes in line with his lips. you felt like your heart was about to fall out of your ass, with the way he was looking at you. not greedy, not like other boys did- if they did. it was sweet, like he was really looking at you, his mellow blue eyes scanning your face and landing on your lips.

he slid a hand behind your ear, leaning into you. you leaned in, too, unsure of what you were supposed to do. you had only ever kissed one boy, and it was in eighth grade as a dare during a game of spin the bottle. this time was different. it wasn’t a game, and nobody was watching.

chris kissed you gently, only testing the waters. it was only chaste, but you felt yourself ascend into another dimension. his lips were soft, and he was so warm. you feel something deep your belly, swirling around. your cheeks begin to flush a little more than they already were, your headache now a distant memory. he pulled away as soon as it happened, as if he had been snapped back into reality.

“sorry, i don’t um…usually do this. i feel like such a douche.”

“you’re far from a douche.” you reassure him, placing a hand on his forearm.

his hand that rested behind your ear was now playing with a coil of your hair. “i mean you were just so pretty, and i didn’t know how to-“

suddenly, you feel yourself swarmed with pride, beginning to smile. “chris! did you follow me up here?”

“um, no?” he says, as his eyes dart around the room comedically as a toothy grin adorns his face.

“you don’t seem so sure.” you tease.

he laughs, shrugging. “what can i say, it worked.”

you find yourself overcome with a feeling you didn’t recognise, something between overjoyed and astounded. you quickly press your lips into his, a little more assured this time. he kisses you back just as eagerly, pulling your waist close to his, breathing hot air into your lungs. you weren’t quite sure what to do with your hands, so you snaked your hand into his soft, full hair. he groaned into your mouth, and you felt your stomach do flips.

this was definitely not how you expected your night to go.

part two.

#my first fic be gentle pls #haven’t written in like a year so i’m a bit rusty #i laughed when i wrote the line ‘what can i say’#what can i sayyyyyy #sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo oneshot #sturniolo triplets

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katebishopsbow · 7 months

Text

STARDUSTS AND GOLDEN SPECKS • OSCAR PIASTRI

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

summary: when conversations turned into arguments and all you could feel when you looked at oscar was pain and exhaustion, you learned to say goodbye and let go of your first-ever love.

tags: angst, arguments, breaking up

word count: 1.2k

(image is not mine)

─────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

When did the warm, fuzzy feeling that blossomed over your chest whenever you thought about Oscar had soundlessly turned bitter? When did your arguments over trivial matters become an almost daily occurrence? When did it happen when you looked into the eyes of your first love – your anchor, your safe haven, your rock – and somehow, it doesn’t feel like home anymore?

You wondered where it all went wrong.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The story of you and Oscar was like one out of a teenage romance novel, not exactly the cliche best friends-to-lovers trope, but the one where both the boy and the girl had a crush on each other for years yet were always too shy to say anything. The two of you would steal secret glances at each other in the school hallway and look away bashfully whenever your eyes would meet, cheeks rosy and hearts thumping as if you were deers caught in headlights.

Oscar was always so stoic and unfazed, but somehow the mere presence of you was enough to make his stomach swarm with butterflies and his head foggy, stealing away the lovestruck boy’s ability to properly think. It was frightening, really – how much he liked you, and so one day he finally plucked up the courage to confess his feelings to you and asked you to be his girlfriend while doing his best to hide his trembling hands and frenzied heart. You leaned forward to trace the stardusts of freckles over his cheeks, admiring the golden specks swimming in his eyes as you nodded your head “yes”, and at that moment Oscar swore he was the happiest boy on Earth.

They say first love was never meant to last, but the two of you – so young and naive and so in love – were certain as ever that the old saying was simply untrue. “I’m gonna marry you someday,” Oscar said to you, gazing into your eyes with an overflowing amount of love and sincerity that you couldn’t help but bury your face into your boyfriend’s chest to hide the biggest smile of your life. “Mr. and Mrs. Piastri,” you whispered hushedly under your breath. The sound of it made your heart swell with joy, and your eyes fluttered close as you thought about what the future held for you two – experiencing the ups and downs of life together, traveling the world together, buying a house and growing old together.

You thought you two were forever, so it caught you by surprise when things were beginning to shift. It happened silently – you wouldn’t be able to notice even if you were paying close attention, and the love between you and Oscar had changed into something entirely different. Perhaps it was because you two had been together for so many years, witnessed each other grow up into the person you had become, and with that not only did you two grow older, but you also grew apart.

What exactly was the reason behind everything, you couldn’t be sure, but all you knew was that you and Oscar were no longer the same. You could spend days without seeing each other, a normal conversation could so easily turn into a heated argument, and the distance between you two only continued to grow like ivies slithering up the walls of your closed off hearts.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Let’s go out for dinner at that Mexican restaurant tomorrow night. A little dinner date, me and you, just like how it used to be when we were in high school,” you suggested as you snuggled into the sides of Oscar – it was your attempt to salvage what was left of your relationship, to try and hopefully make things work. He stayed quiet for a few seconds before parting his lips to answer, “I made plans with Logan and Arthur already… sorry, love.”

The unfamiliarity of the nickname that once made you swoon had you cringing silently, and you rolled your eyes at your boyfriend’s disappointing yet unsurprising response. “Do you even have time for me anymore, Osc?” you asked him as frustration pierced through your words, and the exasperated sigh he failed to conceal only managed to fuel the irritation simmering within you.

“What are you talking about?” “You never have time for me, Oscar.”

Oscar inhaled a deep breath, rubbing at his temples in pure frustration as if he was already exhausted from having this conversation. “You know that’s not true. Stop making everything such a big deal…” A cold laugh escaped your lips upon hearing his words, although the situation was far from funny. “You and I both know that something is wrong between us, Oscar, and yet I am the only one making an effort to try and fix things.”

You watched as your boyfriend closed his eyes, almost like he was hoping to block out everything around him, to ignore your voice and the ugly truth that fell from your lips – the same voice that he used to say was the best sound in the world. “I don’t want to argue with you anymore, love, please,” he said to you, his voice small and pleading – for what exactly, you weren’t certain.

All you knew was at that very moment, for the very first time, you couldn’t find it in you to argue with him anymore. You couldn’t find the strength within you to try and make things work, to fight for your broken relationships, to attempt rekindling the love you two had once felt so deeply for each other. You were simply too tired, too worn out from the hardships of your love as you fought to salvage something that was destined to fail.

“Okay then. No more arguing,” you whispered softly as a sigh fell from your lips – not a dejected one, but rather one of relief. Oscar and you fell into silence, neither of you uttering a single word as you both let the gravity of the situation sink in. Nothing you two could say would make this any better or any less painful – it was bound to hurt, and maybe that was the beauty of loving so deeply.

This was it. The end of it all.

So you leaned forward for one last time – the same way you used to when Oscar confessed his feelings to you – and you brought your hands to his face to trace along the stardusts of freckles that adored his delicate skin. Hidden behind the golden specks of his eyes was love, so much love for you, and pain, exhaustion, frustration, and the agonizing realization that you and Oscar – this inseparable duo for the past years of your lives – had come to an end.

You thought about all the things Oscar had taught you over the years of your relationship. You learned the complexities and depth of your own heart, you learned to be vulnerable with each other even though it frightened you more than anything, and you learned that you were capable of loving someone so much with everything that you had.

As you looked at Oscar, both of your eyes glassy with tears and cloudy with the cherished memories you once shared, you realized that you were about to learn something new again, and perhaps was the most important lesson of all – to say goodbye, to let go, and to move on.

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri angst #f1 angst

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rainbowdaisy13 · 6 months

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Scott Swift Email Thoughts

WOW just finished and wow. This is a huge peek behind the curtain moment IMO, so this is my equally long take on it all

First, THESE ARE ALL JUST MY OPINIONS and also “Allegedly” in regards to everything I’m writing

First off, Scott, like many well to do white men, seems to be someone who needs constant praise and acknowledgement to fill the void of his lack of sense of self. This isn’t a new phenomenon, this has been most rich white men since the dawn of time. It’s rare to find one that has been able to self reflect and heal their traumas enough to truly see outside their own sphere of existence

Scott has been, in his words, and arguably based on their finances, very successful in his employment as a Financial Advisor. Ok cool. But because his main focus in life is making, maintaining, and growing the most amount of money possible AS A JOB, it stands to reason the lens he is going to view Taylors budding career out of is one of cost benefit analysis—aka—how do we generate the most amount of money possible. We see this theme time and time again in the email as he continues to remind Dan that he will make a ton of money if he continues to manage Taylor (with Scott’s secret guidance)

His constant trashing of Andrea as a mean controlling belittling wife and of Taylor as an ungrateful snobby daughter is really telling. This is 2005. Taylor is a freshman in high school, her career is just starting to gain traction, Scott Swift *already* felt this bitter and betrayed by his family and Taylor’s not even famous yet!!

He spends 10 pages listing everything he’s done for Taylors career—if that’s accurate, he has done a lot, and it sounds like he wasn’t afraid to be pushy and annoying to try and get Taylor out there. That being said, he never once speaks about how becoming famous will impact TAYLOR. He doesn’t talk about how important this is to her, about how much writing songs and playing music is a part of who she is as a person. He doesn’t talk about how excited she is to book bigger and bigger venues, to be interviewed on TV, to sing for hundreds of people. Nada. All we hear about is how much time and money HE has sunk into Taylors career, and how ungrateful Andrea and Taylor are

I’m gonna close up by saying, yes people can evolve and grow. 2005 Scott may be miles different than 2023 Scott. But knowing this is the man who has had his hands in Taylor’s career from day 1, this man that only cares about money and being praised for his contribution, makes my blood run cold. Yes she is a mastermind , but breaking free from a literal lifetime of this kind of control can take its own lifetime

Taylor Babydoll, break free and leave him in ruins!!!! It’s your life, live it how YOU want!! 🖤

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peaceofflights · 1 year

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“What’s Three Years in the Eyes of Eternity?”

Rated: T for swearing, drug use, making out, slight references to sex.

Warning: slight age gap relationship. (And I made Wally 18).

Pairings: Wally Clark x Reader, Slight Wally Clark x Maddie Nears

Word Count: 4,000 (dear lord how did that happen.)

A/N: Honeslty I love this series and wanted to add some of my own stuff. It’s definitely not beta read so you have been warned. Might go back and edit later, but if I’m being honest probably not. If people like it I’m thinking of making it into a series.

Even though you knew a lot of people who went to Split River High you always felt lucky that you didn’t have to be one of them. Though you wouldn’t call yourself exceptionally talented, growing up in musical theatre gave you a certain edge compared to your peers and landed you across town at an arts school for “gifted” children when it came time for highschool. Before death you could count all the times you had been to the public highschool on one hand, all of which had been to see your brother’s football games. It felt like a long shot when you applied to teach the school’s summer camp of guys and dolls, but when you actually got the job it felt like a weight lifted off your shoulders.

Then again they did pull a weight off your shoulders… well the majority of the catwalk when it collapsed and crushed you to death, but that’s a technicality. Being 21 is hard enough, but being 21 for eternity surrounded by high schoolers, that’s your own personal hell.

Don’t take it the wrong way, all the ghosts were nice enough. You’d think because you and Mina had similar death experiences you would be fast friends…unfortunately that wasn’t the case. Due to her young age you and Mina seemed to only have a love for the arts in common. And unlike you, her accidental death seemed to make Mina bitter, never leaving the theater. Even though the theater felt most like home to you it made the place unbearable to be in, leaving you to roam the halls.

Most days were spent goofing off with Charley. He was a good kid, he reminded you a lot of your friends in highschool. You both liked to think that if you had been in school at the same time you would have been inseparable, but who really knows.

It took Rhonda some time to get used to you. Since you’re both known for a dry sense of humor it took a while to figure out if you were joking or insulting the other. Even still people couldn’t figure out if you were friends or sworn enemies… and honestly you two liked keeping it that way.

Then there was Wally Clark.

Six foot three golden retriever disguised as a jock Wally Clark. It’s funny because you spent your whole life making fun of football players and now you're trapped in purgatory with one. One that was funny, and smart, and always knew how to make you smile. Who if you actually were honest with yourself is the best part of being stuck at Split River High.

It didn’t matter what you two were doing whether it was golf cart joyriding, smoking the weed you found in some weird stoners kids’ lockers, or even learning the moves to dirty dancing (which for some reason there is a copy of stashed in the teacher’s lounge). Life with Wally was good.

But that didn’t change the fact that he was 18.

Something you reminded him of quite often, though Wally always seemed to have his own comebacks.

“What’s three years in the eyes of eternity?”

“Technically I was born in the sixties… I’m older than you.”

Or his personal favorite;

“Can you shut up so we can make out already?”

Yeah, Wally Clark was probably the love of your after life… he just didn’t need to know that. It didn’t matter how many times you turned him down he always came back, patiently waiting for when you would be ready to say yes. It was your routine, and you were more than happy to keep it that way. But I guess Maddie Nears was the day that changed.

—————————

“y/n/n, y/n/n, y/n/n”

You could already hear Wally running down the hall calling your nickname even before he turned the corner. You couldn’t help but laugh and play along.

“Wally, Wally, Wally.”

Suddenly you two were standing face to face, maybe just a step too close for dramatic effect. His over the top waving at you made you crack a smile, making you completely miss the small blonde standing behind him.

“Y/N there is someone I’d like you to meet… Y/N, Maddie, Maddie, Y/N.”

Your smile dropped for all of half a second before you forced it back onto your face. New ghosts might not come very often but they definitely stuck around so you needed to make a good impression. You reached out to shake her hand, she took it and smiled.

She took in your appearance for a moment before cracking a joke; “what are you? Some kind of camp counselor?” Gesturing to your tie dyed shirt and jean shorts.

“Um, yeah actually.” You replied, scratching the back of your head.

You both awkwardly laughed, shifting your weight from side to side, waiting for the conversation to be over. It was clear you two weren’t about to be best friends. But it was one ghost, not much in your life was going to change.

——————————

It felt like your whole life had changed. In the span of a week you went from having your friends whenever you wanted them, to feeling like Maddie was taking up all of their time.

You weren’t dumb, you knew Maddie was going to need friends here too, and if you looked at it objectively there were only so many options for her to choose from. It was stupid to feel jealousy when they hadn’t really gone anywhere at all. It’s not like any of you could roam too far.

But your days spent gossiping with Charley were now spent reading books in the library. And nights of golf carting with Wally were now spent laying alone on the football field gazing at the stars. Even Rhonda seemed too busy for you, all three seemingly absorbed in Maddie’s recent murder.

You were currently on your way to see what Dawn was up to when you heard a familiar sound coming from a classroom.

But it couldn’t be.

You swore your ears were deceiving you until you heard a familiar voice say;

“You’re telling me you’ve never seen Dirty Dancing? Come on Maddie, it’s a classic!”

Your ears weren’t deceiving you at all! That was the sound of Hungry Eyes playing through one of the tv’s dragged into a classroom.

Look it shouldn’t have bothered you, it’s just a stupid movie. Well not a stupid at all, Dirty Dancing was one of the best movies of all time. Maddie was dumb for not having seen it in life, so obviously it was a must watch in her afterlife. But this wasn’t about the movie at all, but what it represented: this was yours and Wally’s movie. The movie you both knew every line to. The movie that you’ve spent years trying to learn the choreography to, and he was watching it with another girl.

“A classic? I don’t know if I would go that far. Was this movie even out when you were alive?”

You should’ve gone in there and yelled at him. You should have told him off for doing your special thing with somebody else. You should have at least listened outside the door to the rest of their conversation, but you didn’t.

——————————

Ever since Maddie joined your little group your life felt like it had been a whirlwind. You didn’t even realize just how much you were missing out on or how much time had passed until you walked into the school gymnasium.

“Shit, is it homecoming already!? I’m sorry Wally, how could I forget?” You exclaimed as you plopped down in front of the hand painted banner the crew was currently working on.

How could you have forgotten about the homecoming game? Despite the game not meaning anything to you, you knew it meant everything to Wally. Sure, you never went to a homecoming game while you were alive, but now that you knew how much it meant to him you spent every year making it as special to Wally as possible.

You along with the rest of the support group made sure to make him feel appreciated. With a homemade banner and decorations, Wally was well celebrated on his death date.

Plus it always made up for the fact that every year he asked you to the homecoming dance, and every year you said no.

“I’m 21, I don’t need to go to another shitty school dance.”

“You really want to go to the dance with the school chaperone?”

So every year Wally went to every school dance alone. And every year you spent the night locked away in some random space blasting Hair or whatever music you could get your hands on.

It was better that way. It helped you keep some remembrance of your old life. It was often difficult to remember you had a life outside the school before you died. And it kept Wally from realizing that he could do so much better than you. The closer he got to you emotionally the more he’d notice he’s way better than the musical theatre dork you are. Even in your adult life you were a loser, you came back to teach summer camp because you couldn’t pay your bills.

“You okay cherry pop, or did the mere sight of lover boy’s ass send you into a coma?”

It wasn’t until you heard Rhonda’s snide remark that you were pulled out of your spiraling thoughts.

That’s when you realized that Wally had left the gym, with Maddie (figures), and you (probably) stared at his ass while he did.

“Hey, what's wrong with you lately? You seem even more moody and distant than usual, and that’s saying something coming from you.”

You shrugged at Rhonda’s words “I don’t really want to talk about.”

“You think I want to talk through your oh woe is me crap? Trust me I don’t. But I’m getting tired of dealing with everyone’s stupid problems by myself, so spill tootsie roll.”

Your second shrug of the conversation had Rhonda groaning, but quickly cut herself off when she realized what all this was about.

“That is what this is about? You know for a college girl you really are stupid. Do you really think Wally could ever replace you? That boy hasn’t stopped drooling since your heart stopped. If you were half as smart as you think you are you’d get your head out of your ass and finally go lay one on him.”

And just as quickly as the conversation with Rhonda started she was out of the door. But this time you knew your friend was right, you needed to fix the situation and fast.

—————————-

In a way you were killing two birds with one stone. There was no way you could go to the game in your t-shirt and shorts, for some reason even ghosts got cold. But looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror dressed in lost and found stolen jeans and Wally’s jacket you couldn’t help but feel confident.

You knew it was cheesy to show up to Wally’s football game wearing his letterman jacket and express your undying love for him. But you knew Wally, and he was absolutely going to love it.

You gave yourself one more once over before you decided to head out, trying to fix your forever slightly sweaty hair from the hot summer sun. This was it, this was your moment.

As the game started you quickly snuck out to the bleachers to hide out until the perfect moment. This part was nerve racking, but also probably your favorite. Watching Wally in his element was enduring and made you think about all the time you had missed out on by his side, all because you were too stubborn to tell him the truth. You ducked down as you saw him start to climb the bleachers to sit down next to his mother, but seemed to be caught by an entirely different ghost.

“Girl, I hardly recognized up here all by yourself in your-“

Charley cut himself off when he noticed what you were wearing.

“Has he seen it yet?” He asked with a special glint in his eyes.

Your cool and collected attitude was thrown out the window as the strong blush on your cheeks gave you away. “No, he hasn’t. I was waiting until he was done with his quality time with his mom to surprise him. It’s not too much is it? I know I should have just sat him down and told him-“

“No, no, no trust me, he’s going to love it. That boy is going to die when he sees you.”

“Hasn’t he already done that?” You softly laughed at your own joke, but Charley just deadpans at you, rubbing his temples dramatically like you’re the Bain of his existence.

“You’re gooood.” He quickly drops his annoyed act to smile warmly at you. “Wally lives for grand gestures, he might actually cry.”

You just smiled at your friend. He’s right about one thing, if Wally loves anything it’s a grand gesture, and now felt like the best time to do it, but as you scan the bleachers you realize he’s nowhere to be seen.

————————————

It felt like eternity until you finally found Wally. The game ended about thirty minutes prior when you finally see him walking behind the stadium, extra swagger to his step.

“Hey Wally! I’ve been looking for you all over! What’s got you in such a fantastic mood?” You giggled to yourself like a schoolgirl, this is it.

“I just asked Maddie to the homecoming dance and she said yes! You know as friends, I mean we’re going as friends. But she’s new and I figured it would be nice for her to know she has a friend In the afterlife. It also gives me someone to go to the dance with and -“ he continued to ramble on but you were no longer listening.

Your heart felt like it lived at the bottom of your stomach. It was silly of you to assume that he’d still want to go to the dance with you after how many times you’ve rejected him. It’s silly that at your age you want to go to the dance at all. These were things you never even thought about in your adult life, but here you were about to cry because some stupid 18 year old jock would rather go with a girl who was willing to immediately agree to a date with him instead of some bitch who’s turned him down how many times in the last fifteen years. Yes it all made perfect sense to you, but it didn’t stop you from wanting to cry yourself to sleep in the girls locker room.

“Hey, is that my jacket?” His words finally took hold in your ears.

“Um yeah!” You stuttered. “My clothes aren’t exactly weather appropriate, and I figured you wouldn’t need it tonight. I hope that was okay.”

“Yeah of course! That’s what friends are for!” He smiled, ruffling your hair before moonwalking out.

———————————

Of all the things you thought you would do this year, getting help from Mina wasn’t even on your metaphorical bingo sheet. But there you were, a hour before the dance having Mina help you sew together a dress fit for homecoming.

You thought it would take a lot more to get her to help you, but her assessment of the situation was simple.

“All technical work is underappreciated by the actors.”

You weren’t sure how that translated to your current conversation, but she wasn’t wrong. We were both stagehands, and stagehands stuck together.

With an extra set of hands putting together a dress wasn’t as difficult as you thought it would be, and for the first time since your death you were ready for the homecoming dance.

——————————

Running your fingers over your baby pink dress you spotted the others standing in a circle by the punch bowl. You wiped the sweat from your hands onto your bodice before making your way over to them. If you had a functioning heart it would be beating faster than ever before.

“Hey guys, fancy seeing you here” You smiled, stealing a sip of Charley’s drink. Your false sense of chill would make others believe you did this every year, but the tapping of your heel on the floor made it obvious that you did not.

“Fancy seeing you here? That’s all you’ve got to say? You look gorgeous!” Charley the ever kind soul that he is says, giving you a half hug in the process.

“You do baby cakes! Who knew you had such nice tits under all that tie dye.” Rhonda’s voice cracked in her signature vocal fry, pinching at your waist trying to get a better look at your figure.

“Mhm” You smiled. “I’ve missed out on a lot of these things. I definitely owe it to my friends to make up on some lost time.” You looked directly at Wally as you finished your sentence, he swallowed hard before averting his gaze. He quickly put on a false over the top smile and grabbed Maddie’s hand while she was taking a sip of her punch. “Come on Maddie let’s dance!”

———————————

Wally POV

Wally laughed as he tossed and turned Maddie around the room flamboyantly, but couldn’t help but watch you through the corner of his eye sighing into your punch as you twirl your pinky finger along the glass.

“You know I think you came with the wrong girl.” Maddie said, breaking Wally from his trance.

“What?”

“Ever since she walked into the room you can’t stop staring at her. It’s clear that you like her. Wally we came as friends, if you want to go ask her to dance it’s not going to hurt my feelings.”

Wally wiggled Maddie’s arms with humor but the look on his face was anything but.

“It doesn’t matter how I feel about her, she’s made it very clear she’s not interested. Do you know how many times she’s turned me down in the last fifteen years? Way too many times for me to deem her into me.” He stated as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“All I’m saying is that a girl doesn’t wear your jacket to your death date and show up to a dance she’s never once wanted to go to unless she’s at least a little bit interested.”

“Or something like that.” Wally replied back before smacking his happy go lucky façade back on attempting to teach Maddie his moonwalk moves.

———————

Y/N POV

That’s when you heard it, your song.

“And this one was requested by that weird kid, you know who you are. Next time put on a tie.” The dj said dramatically in the annoying voice only dj’s are allowed to talk in.

“(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life” begins to vibrate through the gym as Maddie Nears comes to stand next to you.

“I had Simon request the song for you.” Maddie says simply looking off into the distance with you at Wally and the rest of your friends across the room, you had been too busy sulking to sit with them.

“I know it’s kind of your guy’s song.” She continues; “ I figured you two could use a little push.”

You're immediately puzzled. “How did you-“

“That dude is absolutely obsessed with you.” She smiled. “Plus when we watched the movie he wouldn’t shut up about the fact that it was your favorite and you guys had spent the last fifteen years memorizing the choreography, it only felt right.”

You gave her a big hug before whispering in her ear “thank you”.

“Now hurry up” she laughed, “This song is only like five minutes long.”

You rolled your eyes at her before making your way across the room. Yes, this was dramatic, and yes it should have embarrassed you, but for once it didn’t. When you finally made it across what felt like an ocean of people you tapped Wally on the shoulder even though he was already looking at you, stretched out your hand and said;

“Nobody puts Baby in a corner”

Wally smiled before shaking his head and grabbed your hand leading to the middle of the dance floor.

It didn’t matter that the song was already halfway over, you started your choreography regardless, laughing the whole way through it. Every part of it felt like a flirtatious inside joke. It made you realize just how much you missed your best friend. You held him as close to you as you could in peaceful silence until he stepped back from you three steps nodding his head. This of course was the best part so you nodded back and started stepping backwards.

As he lovingly put it each time, if you fell you fell. He would always break your fall, you were both dead anyway. However, just like actual Johnny and Baby you had practiced the move in the pool countless times before you got it right. Now despite the time away from the routine you trusted that both of you knew this lift like the back of your hand, and you were not disappointed when you got a running head start into your jump and were caught gracefully by a strong set of arms.

When Wally placed you down onto the ground again he smiled, pulling you as close as humanly possible.

“You know, I always thought the point of us learning this dance was so we could pull it out at every school function and show all these other losers who’s who.” He laughed clearly, making a joke out of the unspoken.

“They can’t see us anyway” You smirked, resting your arms around his shoulders. “But you're right, I’m sorry it took me this long to come to the dance with you.”

“Sweetheart, have you already forgotten? Maddie is my date to dance.” He smiled, lovingly pushing you away before grabbing you again as fast as he could.

“But I can give you the next best thing,” he said, looking down at you. “Be my date next year?”

“I can do you one better,” You smiled. “Go to prom with me?”

“I don’t knowwwww darling, might bring down my popularity to go to the prom with a chaperone.”

“Hey Wally?” You boink him very lightly on the nose. “Can you shut up so we can make out already?”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. His mouth was on yours in less time than you had to take a breath. Immediately you feel like you need to breathe but if lack of oxygen is your only problem right now then you’ll gladly take it.

His arms moved from rubbing up and down your arms to slowly being snaked around your waist pulling you in tight. You stayed wrapped up in his musky scent for what felt like eternity. You felt his hands slowly start to migrate south when you hear a low whistle from behind you.

“Alright kids break it up, nobody here wants to watch you two defile each other on top of the snack bar.” Of course Rhonda would be the one to break the two of you up after pawing at each other like cats in heat. But she was right about one thing, you definitely felt like a kid again in the best possible way.

“Haha laugh it up Rhonda, you’re just jealous. I know everyone wants to ride the pony.” He smirked, giving her a joking wink.

“Alright Stallion.” You said patting him on the shoulder. “Time to go.”

“Where are we going?” He asked as he intertwined his fingers with yours.

“The teacher’s lounge.” You said giving him a similar wink he just gave to your friends.

While you tried to catch your breath as he dragged you through the halls at dare you say a record pace, you realized Split River High might not be as bad as you thought

#school spirits #wally clark x reader #wally clark #school spirits fanfic #maddie nears #wally x maddie #school spirits fanfiction

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reminiscingtonight · 2 years

Text

Forever Isn’t Long Enough

Alex Morgan x Reader

Word Count: 5.4k

[WOSO Masterlist]

You’re excited. It’s the first break after starting college and you couldn’t wait to be home. While you’re more than settled down by now, you can’t help but miss a certain wide eyed brunette that you always hung around at home with.

Growing up with Alex Morgan is no easy feat. It meant countless hours of late night studying, for when her tournaments took her out of town, and acting as her soundboard for whatever crazy idea she had at the moment. It meant waking up at the crack of dawn to "explore your town," despite having grown up in Diamond Bar your whole life, and when you reached high school, driving out to surprise your best friend more than a couple times at her games.

Being friends with Alex is exhausting but also exhilarating. You’ve never met anyone else who could get you to laugh so hard, smile so wide, and love so deeply.

So yes, going to your dream photography school had its perks, but it also made you miss home and the people you spent your whole life with.

You’re in the backyard, chatting with Jeni and Jeri when you hear the patio door open, a familiar gait making its way over. You ignore the looks the two Morgan sisters exchange as you instantly spin around, a wild grin on your face.

You only have a brief moment to brace yourself before Alex is leaping into the air, body crashing into yours as she hugs you tight. She buries her face into the side of your neck and you can only hope she can’t tell how hard your heart is beating.

“Wow, I’ve missed you.”

You only tighten your arms around her harder, not trusting your voice to speak.

It’s only the amused mutterings of Alex’s sisters behind you, the faux annoyed “what are we, dead meat?” that has Alex unwrapping herself from you, matching blushes on both of your faces.

Before either of you have a chance to respond to her sisters, a shadow’s falling over the two of you. Alex’s eyes light up at first but then they nervously turn to yours.

You don’t say anything as the guy wraps an arm around Alex’s shoulder. Something about the way they look so comfortable around each other twists in your gut.

“Hey! I’m Servando, Alex’s boyfriend.”

Boyfriend.

The word takes away all the air in your breath.

Your eyes flit between him and Alex. It’s not hard to tell she’s purposefully avoiding your gaze. “Um, hi, I’m (Y/N).”

His face breaks out into a smile. “Right, Alex’s best friend! She’s talked a lot about you!”

“She has?”

He nods, not taking note of the awkward tension that’s settling down between you and Alex.

Servando falls into a comfortable conversation with the rest of the Morgans. Jeni and Jeri question and tease Alex and Servando, but you just stand there, half-listening as you try to piece together your thoughts.

You’re not sure why Alex didn’t tell you about Servando.

The longer you stay there, the longer it bites at you. Did Alex not trust you? Did she think you would flip out? The two of you are as close as can be, so why didn’t she just tell you about him?

Your feelings for Alex had long moved past friendly, but you were willing to do whatever it took to keep her in your life, even if it meant hiding the way you felt for her. Did Alex somehow find out and this was the non-confrontational way she came to deal with it?

The bitterness swells up and up until you can’t take it anymore. Mustering up a smile, you quietly excuse yourself to get some punch from the kitchen. Although it’s just some regular fruit punch recipe Mrs. Morgan found online years ago, something about the drink always managed to make you feel better.

You’re not sure if it’ll do its job today.

You’ve only separated yourself from the rest of the group for a couple minutes when you hear the kitchen door open behind you. The familiar scent of lavender and honey flows to your nose, and you curse under your breath.

The weight of Alex’s gaze is heavy on your back.

She doesn’t say anything as she settles down beside you at the counter.

You do your best to ignore her, but eventually you can’t take the silence anymore.

“Servando seems nice.”

From the corner of your eye you can see Alex freeze. Then she’s sighing heavily. “I was going to tell you, I swear.”

“Right.” It’s not your intention, but the word comes out clipped, with a bite to it. Without pausing to hand the spoon to Alex’s waiting hand, you forcefully put it back into the bowl and spin on your heels.

Muttering angrily under her breath, Alex follows you as you make your way towards the backyard again. “Look, I don’t know why you’re getting so angry about this.”

“I’m not angry.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” she mutters, crossing her arms defensively.

“I’m not angry,” you insist, pausing in the hallway before the two of you make it to a more public place. “I just… I don’t know what you expect me to think. We call nearly every day. You’ve never mentioned him once.”

“I don’t need to tell you everything that goes on in my life.”

“I’m not saying you do.”

“Then why are you so annoyed?”

“I’m not,” you repeat, your ire growing with each repetition of your innocence. “I’m just simply wondering why, when we share nearly everything in our lives with each other, you neglected to tell your best friend that you started seeing someone.”

“It just slipped my mind.”

“It just slipped your mind,” you repeat, giving Alex an incredulous look. “Right, and I’m the pope.”

“Fuck off, (Y/N). What I do with my life has nothing to do with you. Just because you can’t do anything without consulting me first doesn’t mean I have the same co-dependency issues!”

You flinch back at the sudden escalation of Alex’s words. Both of your eyes widen, yours in hurt and hers in shock.

It doesn’t take long for the regret to fill the brunette as she realizes her mistake. “(Y/N)--”

You push away her hand, trying to hide the hurt in your eyes. “Just forget about it. Let’s get back before our parents send out a search party.”

You’re stalking away before Alex can stop you, hoping she doesn’t see the way the tears threaten to escape from your eyes.

You spend the rest of the night expertly avoiding Alex. You pretend it doesn’t hurt when she stays away too.

---

It’s not purposeful. At the end of the day, the two of you just get busy and drift apart. You play phone tag for a while, trying to catch each other, but never exchanging more than a couple words. When the two of you are back at home together, you barely see each other. More times than not Servando’s there with her. While you had nothing against him, he really did seem like a good guy, your broken heart just couldn’t handle seeing Alex so enamored with someone else.

So your friendship just fades away.

It hurts, the gap left behind by the loss of such a close friend. But you do your best to move on.

After graduating college you travel the world a bit, adding more to your portfolio. While Alex is out collecting medals and trophies, you start perfecting your technique, drifting farther and farther away from the life you always thought would be waiting for you beside the soccer player.

It doesn’t take you long to establish your own studio. Jobs are plentiful, and now you get paid to travel the world, shooting whatever piques your interest.

This time around, your job landed you in London. It’s been a long and tedious project, but you couldn’t ignore how fun it had been. Everything is now done, and all you have to do is get back to your studio to finish up some last minute fix-ups.

For the first time since landing in London a week ago, you settle down in a small cafe, ready to relax and just soak in the environment.

It’s a fairly nice day so you decide to sit on the patio, soaking in the sun with your tea.

You’re barely a sentence into your book before you’re interrupted.

“(Y/N)?”

Your head snaps up at the familiar voice.

At first glance you think you’re hallucinating. You did hit your head a bit yesterday while climbing a tree to get the perfect shot, but you didn’t think you hit your head that badly. It isn’t until Alex nervously shuffles on her feet that you realize you’ve been gawking at her for too long. You nervously clear your throat, trying to swallow your embarrassment.

“Alex. Hey.”

You hate the way the smile of relief on her face makes your heart skip a beat. “Wow, hi, I didn’t know if I was seeing things or not.”

Nervously chuckling, you shut the book in front of you. Alex awkwardly hovers above the chair in front of you before you’re gesturing for her to take a seat.

You’re acutely aware of the eyes that are looking you up and down. You try not to flush under her gaze.

“You look good.”

Her words only cause your face to redden more. “Coming from a two time world cup winner? Thanks.”

It’s Alex’s turn to blush as she takes in your words. “Stop. You know about that?”

You roll your eyes in fake offense. “Do I know about you winning two world cups? Alex, I don’t live under a rock.”

Growing up with Alex meant going to as many of her games as you could to show your support. While you always loved cameras more than soccer balls, you eventually grew to love watching the sport. This meant even after the two of you drifted apart, you still regularly kept an eye out on the state of the game. And when you heard Alex opted for the draft after graduation, you knew big things were headed towards the field.

You always told the forward that she’d be something special. You’re glad to see that you were right.

The two of you launch into an animated conversation about how cool the last world cup was, and your hopes and dreams for the next one. Alex seems surprised when you tell her how you try to keep up with her sport whenever you can. You choose not to mention the way your eyes stayed glued to her whenever you saw her pop up on your screen. The crinkle in her eyes are worth the two seconds of embarrassment that floods through you.

After a lull in the conversation, Alex suddenly leans forward, bracketing her arms on the table. “What are you doing in London?”

You blink, forgetting that although you knew about Alex’s life after college, she doesn’t know a thing about yours. “I’ve got a photography studio up and running now. I was shooting a new project out here. Just wrapped it up actually. Today’s my last day in town.”

The smile on Alex’s face turns soft, more genuine as she takes in your words. While she was always chasing after a soccer ball, you were always chasing after her, trying to get the perfect shot. “Well I’m glad I ran into you then.”

You return her smile. “Yeah. it’s really good to see you.”

The two of you trade stories back and forth, trying to catch up with all the time you’ve lost. You would think that after such a disappointing end to your friendship it would be a painfully awkward reunion, but the opposite was true. Alex seems genuinely interested in everything you’ve been up to, the same for you. You find yourself blushing under her gaze more than once, cursing your heart for not knowing how to evade her charms even after all this time.

Before you know it, the two of you have talked the morning away.

A shrill beeping has Alex glancing down at her phone. Her face quickly turns sour before she’s swearing under her breath.

“Shit. I have to go.”

You have to fight your frown. You’ve forgotten how nice it is to be around Alex. “Oh, yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you.”

“No! No you’re not keeping me or anything. I just forgot that I have a game later today. We have a team meeting in the hotel in,” she looks down at her phone again before blowing out an annoyed breath, “twenty minutes.”

“Right. I heard you guys are playing England or something.”

Alex nods, anxiously looking down at her phone. “I’m so sorry to leave just like this.”

You shrug, trying to give her your best smile despite how disappointed you are to part ways. “No, it’s totally fine. It was nice seeing you.”

Her eyebrows furrow and you can see her thinking hard as she carefully chooses her words. “Actually, um, would you maybe like to come watch the game tonight?”

Alex looks so hopeful and your instinctive move is to say yes. But the rational part of you knows it would be a bad idea. Getting wrapped up in all that was Alex Morgan could never end up well. “I don’t know. I’ve got an early flight tomorrow.”

“Please? It’s just been so long, you know. I’d love it if you could come. We can meet up after and catch up some more?”

“Alex, I--”

“Please?”

Your eyes drop to where her hand has fallen over yours. It’s done out of habit, and you’re suddenly transported back to when you were children. Alex would always hold your hand whenever she tried to get you to agree to some crazy idea of hers. Even she knew back then how weak you were for her.

You want to say no. You really do. But not even a decade of space could change the hold Alex has over you.

“Okay, fine. I guess I can push back my flight tomorrow.”

“Really?” It’s impossible to ignore how cute her entire body lighting up when you agree is. “Okay I’ll send you the tickets and whatnot. I promise you’re gonna have a blast.”

Your heart beats hard the entire time it takes her to walk out of your sight. The second Alex is gone, you rest your head against the table, groaning out in annoyance.

What have you gotten yourself into?

---

You forgot how crazy games could get.

The stadium feels electric, people buzzing at a rate you’ve only ever dreamed of experiencing. This stadium was definitely bigger than any other place you’ve ever been to before and the people are definitely more than pumped to be there.

From the moment the players come out onto the field to the last whistle, you’re on the edge of your seat.

The crowd ‘oohs’ and ‘awws’ at every turn of the game. A handful groans of disapproval are also heard, and you have to stifle the smile on your lips every time it comes up. Players clash more than a couple times, every time you’re holding your breath, hoping everyone’s okay.

When the US narrowly comes away with a tie, you’re not ashamed to say you breathe out a huge sigh of relief.

You push your way up to the edge of the stands, getting as close to the field as you can without actively going down. It’s not hard to spot Alex. She’s surrounded by a couple of her teammates, but she’s facing the crowd, scanning for something herself.

You pretend you’re not blushing when the two of you lock eyes and she lights up. Alex makes a beeline for the stands, hopping the divider and propping herself on the bars to be able to hear you. There’s many people calling out her name, but all she gives them are quiet hellos before she’s smiling at you again.

“You came!”

You nervously chuckle, hands awkwardly clenching and unclenching on the railing. “Well I couldn’t let your ticket go to waste now could I?”

Alex leans in closer to you, now completely off the ground, so you can hear her better through the crowd. In the process of doing so, her hand brushes past yours, fingers lingering against your knuckles. You almost pull back, only barely stopping yourself before you completely jerk away.

“Come join me on the field!”

You’re instantly shaking your head. “I don’t want to take you away from your team--”

“It’s fine, they won’t care.”

“Alex.”

“Please?” Alex is giving you the look, and you’re not sure how anyone can resist caving to her demands.

You sigh, shaking your head. You can’t believe you’re gonna follow her words blindly again. “Fine. How do I get down to the field?”

Her face splits into a wide grin. “Jump.”

You blink, the words taking a second to register. When it does, you’re frowning at the brunette. “Are you serious?”

“What? I’ll catch you!” As if proving her words, Alex hops back down onto the ground, widening her stance and opening her arms.

Ignoring how absolutely adorable she’s acting, you sputter out a response. “Alex! I’m sure there’s an easier way to get down than jumping over this railing.”

“Yeah but that’ll take too long,” she shrugs, as if it’s the most obvious thing. “I want you down on the field now.”

You clench your jaw, trying, but failing, to convince yourself to do the rational thing.

It would be so easy to walk away right now. Just turn around and melt into the crowd. You’ll never have to see Alex again. The two of you can go back to pretending the other doesn’t exist.

Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you put a foot on the railing.

“Scoot.”

Alex does as you say, a grin still on her face.

Blowing out an annoyed breath, you hoist yourself over the railing and fall onto the grass. Alex’s too busy laughing at the weird way you land to do anything helpful as security begins to make their way over.

“Al!”

Still keeled over, Alex quickly waves them away. They walk away with skeptical eyes and you have to try to tug Alex into a standing position.

“Stop laughing at me.”

“I’m not! I’m simply laughing at the way you landed. That’s all.”

When it doesn’t look like the forward’s going to stop anytime soon, you feign heading back towards the sideline. “That’s it. I’m leaving.”

At once, Alex is sobering up, hand shooting out to grab your arm. “No! Don’t go!”

It’s hard not to laugh at the alarm on her face.

“Relax, superstar. I couldn’t leave even if I wanted to. This stadium is huge. I’d get lost without you.”

Rolling her eyes at you, Alex uses the hand already holding your arm to pull you into a hug. You try not to melt into her touch.

Even after all of these years, Alex’s hugs still managed to make you feel the same way. You’re not sure you’ve met anyone else who could make you feel so loved and safe with just a touch of their hand.

To stop yourself from saying or doing something embarrassing, you blurt out the first thing on your mind.

“Ew, Al, you’re so sweaty.”

Laughing, Alex pulls back before punching you on the shoulder. “You try playing for over 90 minutes without breaking a sweat!”

Before you have the chance to say anything, Alex notices, for the first time tonight, the camera hanging around your neck. She gives your strap a little tug before smirking at you. “You know you’re not on the job right now, right?”

You roll your eyes at her, batting away her hands. “Hey! I got some good shots tonight.”

“Gimme.” In the next moment Alex is lifting your camera away, thumbing through the gallery on instinct.

Your first thought is to yank back your camera and snap at her. You’re a bit protective of your camera, and everyone you worked with knew not to touch it. But then again, this is Alex. You bite your lip as Alex’s eyes widen with each picture.

“Wow, these are good.”

“Well I am a professional photographer, you know.”

Alex simply ignores your quip, clicking through the pictures at rapid speed.

You’re grateful she doesn’t mention anything about how most of the pictures are of her.

A voice popping up from behind your shoulder pops the two of you out of your bubble. “Gone for two seconds and Alex has already picked up a Brit.”

“She’s not British,” Alex immediately shoots back, not even looking up to greet her teammates.

If you weren’t so starstruck, you would have found the idea of Alex picking up a random stranger in mere minutes of meeting extremely hilarious. But then the seconds tick on, Alex doesn’t expand upon your relationship, and you realize the rest of her team actually thinks that Alex just charmed and picked you up at random from the stands.

“And more importantly, Alex did not ‘pick me up’,” you stutter out, well aware of all the looks you’re getting.

At that, Alex finally looks up, eyes sparkling as she throws her head back in a laugh. “Guys, this is my old friend (Y/N).”

You get the normal ‘hellos’ and ‘nice to meet yous’ from most of her teammates, but one voice in particular captures your attention.”

“Like the (Y/N)?”

Whatever quip you have prepared dies on your tongue. Being teased by Alex’s national teammates is one thing. Having Kelley O’Hara be aware of your existence? Yeah, that’s something else you are wholly unprepared for.

Alex takes a step towards the defender, punching her in the arm before whispering something harshly into her ear. Kelley simply pushes Alex away, sliding up beside you with a grin on her face. “Kelley. Nice to meet you. I’ve heard nothing but good things.”

You can’t do anything but stare as she shakes your hand. You’re sure your soul is leaving your body right now.

Kelley shoots Alex a slightly amused, slightly concerned look. “Alex, is she okay?”

The name of your friend snaps you out of your daze. “You know who I am?”

Kelley laughs, throwing an arm over your shoulder. Okay, now you’re sure you’re dreaming. “Alex’s got like a bajilion pictures of the two of you in her place.”

You quirk an eyebrow towards the forward, and she flushes in her spot. “Two! It’s two pictures! And we’re with our families in one of them!”

---

You’ve been in San Diego for the greater part of a couple weeks now.

You really didn’t mean to stay so long. First it’s Alex convincing you to take some pictures for the Wave. Their lead photographer had been looking for extra hands, and given your background and experience with the sport, it made you a prime candidate.

You’re too weak to say no to her.

After basically guaranteeing your presence in San Diego, Alex’s next step is to offer you her guest bedroom. No matter how many times you declined, she all but forced your hand into agreeing. From guilt tripping, ‘you’re only in San Diego because I kinda forced a job upon you,’ to excuses of catching up, ‘remember how we always wanted to live together as kids?’ to trying to logic her way through things, ‘think about it this way, you’ll be saving so much money crashing here rather than paying out of pocket for a hotel,’ you simply had no defense against what Alex wanted you to do.

So here you are nearly a month later, living out of a suitcase (and half out of Alex’s closet), knowing 100% that you’re fucked again.

It only took the first night of staying with Alex for your feelings to come back up. You cracked a very lame joke, but Alex snorted all the same, nearly shooting tomato soup out of her nose. It’s between handing her napkins and trying your best to get the stains out of her carpet that you swallowed away the guilt of a 20+ year crush.

You can’t help but second guess every single one of your interactions.

When Alex winks at you during practice.

When her hand brushes against yours during your morning runs.

When she props her legs up over yours during your pre-sleep wind downs.

Lately, Alex has gotten into barging into the guest room to binge watch one of her new shows of interest late into the night. It often ends with you waking up the next morning, Alex wrapped up all around you.

Every single interaction with Alex has you biting down on your tongue, trying your hardest not to blurt out “hey, I know we’ve just started reconnecting again after a nearly 10 year break, but I’m still extremely in love with you.” You’re pretty sure that if you said that, not only would she somehow get you fired from your photography gig, she would also throw you out of her house.

Yeah, you aren’t willing to risk any of that.

It definitely doesn’t help when Kelley comes to visit in the days leading up to the quarterfinal game against Chicago. Not only does she gasp in fake outrage when Alex informs the defender that she either needs to get a hotel room or crash on the couch, Kelley, more than a couple times, makes very pointed comments about your living arrangements and relationship. Every time Alex is quick to refute whatever Kelley throws at her, but you can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness at every denial.

When San Diego beats Chicago and you’re the first person Alex runs to on the sideline, Kelley’s sure to pull you aside after the game.

“Don’t give me any of that bullshit Alex has been giving me. You be careful with her heart, okay?”

You can’t do anything but nod dumbly at Kelley’s self-satisfied smirk.

Kelley’s words run through your mind all throughout the night and also into the next day. And the next. And the next.

The team goes to Portland.

Alex presses a kiss a little too close to the corner of your mouth when they win 2-1 in extra time.

Your body stays tingling for the rest of the week.

The team goes to DC.

You’re on the sidelines, camera clicking away when Alex scores the game winning goal against Kansas. Your eyes lock across the field. There’s some sort of look in Alex’s eyes that you don’t recognize. She’s being buried by her teammates in the next moment and you don’t put much thought into it.

It’s your shot of Alex jumping in the air into the huddle of her team that’s posted all over San Diego’s socials.

[San Diego Wave, 2022 NWSL Champions]

Alex is freshly showered and getting ready for bed when you knock on her hotel room door.

A tired smile breaks out on her face. “I was starting to wonder where you went.”

You chuckle, leaning against the doorway. “I didn’t go anywhere. You got dragged everywhere by everyone.”

She pouts, leaning back and letting you into her room. While Alex moves to get comfortable in her bed, you stay lingering by the door.

Alex raises an eyebrow at you in question but doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, she sighs out in relief at the soft sheets beneath her.

“So our flight is at 3 in the afternoon tomorrow. Do you want to get lunch with Kelley before we head back?”

You swallow hard. Here comes the hard part. The reason you came to her room in the first place. “I’m going to Seattle.”

Alex pauses, eyes shooting up from her phone. “What?”

You try not to shrink under her gaze. “I just… The season’s over, and I’ve got a project lined up in Seattle.”

Alex is frowning now. She chews on her lip before carefully asking her next question. “When do you go?”

You find it hard to meet Alex’s eyes. “Now actually.”

“Now?” This time there’s a twinge of hurt in Alex’s voice. “The season literally just ended today. Yesterday.” Alex waves her hand to direct her thoughts. “Whatever. You get what I’m saying. You cannot seriously be leaving hours after the last match of the season.”

When she doesn’t get a response, Alex swings her legs off her bed.

“Will you just look at me?” She snaps, finally annoyed from your lack of eye contact.

The second your eyes meet, Alex softens.

She opens her mouth, ready to persuade you to stay once again and you know it has to be now. You have to leave before you fall too deep to get out again.

“I’m sorry, Al. I really am. This has been fun. But I have to go.”

You’re spinning on your heels, your only goal to get out. You’ve only taken a couple steps when you hear her words. They’re quiet, but they cut through the silent room all the same.

“Don’t go. Stay with me.”

Your hand freezes on the doorknob. You don’t move, back still towards the forward.

“I want you to stay.”

You can hear Alex getting up behind you.

“I don’t think I can do this again, Alex.”

No explanation is needed. You know what you mean. And you now know Alex does too. Why else is she constantly trying to use your feelings against you?

You can feel her breath on your neck.

“Please.”

“Al.”

There’s a pair of lips on yours the second you turn around.

Your hands fall to her waist as Alex pulls you in deeper to her. You only managed to take a short breath before your back hits the door, Alex pressing your bodies tight together.

Her lips never leave yours, seemingly getting hungrier with every second they’re against yours. Every push gets a pull in response, every tug gets an equally as reactive movement.

Alex’s hands are everywhere. They fly between cupping your jaw, wrapping around the back of your neck, whatever it takes to keep the two of you pressed together.

You kiss back with everything you have. When Alex swipes her tongue against your lips, you open your mouth, moaning against her. The sound only makes Alex move more desperately against you.

It isn’t until your hands are tugging at the sides of her sweats that Alex realizes the need to slow down. Pulling back, Alex leaves a soft peck upon your lips.

Your eyes flicker open, hazily watching as Alex licks her lips, trying to gather her own thoughts. The sight makes you swallow hard, words dying on the tip of your tongue.

Your bag’s fallen to the floor by now, kicked off to the side. Alex is still pressed tightly against you, barely giving you any space to think.

“Alex.” Her name comes out in a breathless whisper.

“I love you,” she cuts you off, making sure to get in her two cents before you can voice your thoughts. Your heart skips a beat at her words. “I love you and I don’t want you to leave. You can call me selfish or stupid or whatever, but all I know is that I’m in love with you and I don’t want to lose you again.”

Alex is in love with you.

There’s a sort of hopeful look in her eyes as she waits for you to answer.

Alex is in love with you.

All you can do is breathe in shakingly, not wanting to wake up from this cruel dream.

Alex is in love with you.

“Please say something.”

There are so many words you want to say. So many words you’ve been storing since you last admitted you were in love with Alex, back when you were still a teenager.

There’s so many words that you can’t seem to voice a single thought.

You can see the way Alex’s demeanor falters the longer the silence drags on.

You try to find the words to say, but ‘I’ve been in love with you since forever’ doesn’t seem like the most appropriate thing to say.

Instead, this time Alex is the one left gasping when you surge forward, pressing your lips together.

There’d be time for words later. For right now, you just wanted to stay as close to Alex as possible.

#alex morgan x reader #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #Ace writes

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houseoftulips · 2 years

Text

Unfortunate Benefits | T. Kuroo ~ when he realized way too late

➤ ft: ex boyfriend!kuroo testuro x f!reader

➤ content warning: angst, alcohol

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After six years of not seeing each other with no contact in any shape or form - you two are now standing in the same restaurant at a small reunion.

You’d been living in Singapore all this time after graduating college and leaving your old life behind. You were in Japan to visit your family but when your old high school friends find out that you were, they just had to invite you.

Bokuto was especially insistent on you meeting up with them for dinner but his same emo mode appeared through the facetime call just like the old days. You were only there at the restaurant for him and Kenma but you knew that your 18 year old self was relieved to see Kuroo Tesuro again.

Your ex boyfriend/high school sweetheart was one of the reasons for you leaving the country after your rocky break up. Long story short, after all those years from high school towards the end of college was nothing but a lie and a joke to Kuroo.

From what you were told, Kuroo had asked you out during your first year of high school to get his elementary school crush to notice him. When he realized that he was never gonna get that attention he was just contempt on getting it from you. Not in the lovey-dovey way though. More like the I’m settling here because there’s no where else to go. Then he finally got that attention again after reuniting with his crush at one of MSBY’s volleyball game and left you soon after the encounter.

He spilled all his dirty secrets in you and practically admitted that he was cheating on you emotionally and using you as a comfort rag rather than his girlfriend. So you left while he was at his internship job during the day. Everything that was yours was erased from your shared apartment. He didn’t even try to contact you either so you knew that he never loved you over the course of your years together.

Bokuto and everyone else begged you to remain in Japan when you told them that you were leaving a few weeks after the breakup. But they knew that the once in a lifetime experience was offered to you for your career, there was no reason for you to remain in the same place.

But right now, that bed-head looking asshole was looking at you like you meant everything to him. His piercing gold eyes were dancing all over your features that he once cherished during your time together.

“Y/n,” his voice faltered a bit as he shook his thoughts away, “H-hey… When did you get back?”

“I’m not back,” you said simply, “M’visiting family for a bit.”

“Oh,” he sheepishly said as he looked away from the awkwardness creeping in. “Well um, it’s good to see you,” he cleared his throat.

You shifted uncomfortably in your standing position as you remained silent. Your wounded and repaired heart is slowly tearing apart once again hearing his useless words. But your younger self is yelling at you to say something back but you still remained silent.

Kursk cleared his throat again to gain your attention back, “Would you like drink?”

Wanting to drink you sorrows away you said yes on the spot. You definitely scolded yourself for accepting a drink from him but he’s paying for it so you looked the other way. You ordered wine like always but more on the stronger side. One with a more bitter taste than the sweet one that you craved.

The both of you sat in silence for what felt like eternity but you kept taking your occasional sips and so was Kuroo till he opened his mouth. “How is Singapore?” he asked as he glanced at you.

You cleared your throat as you set your glass down, “Good. A little more on the humid side than it is here.”

Kuroo hummed in response and let you guys sit in silence once again. For about thirty minutes you guys had an on and off conversation. Letting you both drown in silence then suddenly talk about scattered things that’s happened to you two over the last few years. Then finally the bitter ice breaker came into tow.

“Me and Sachie broke up,” Kuroo said quietly but enough for you to hear.

You sighed out loud hearing her name again. You didn’t even dare say it in your head because you were still so jealous of her getting the real attention from Kuroo.

“So?” you questioned as you watched your old friends drunkenly laugh together.

“So,” he sighed, “I want to say that I’m sorry for leaving you like that when I should’ve done it a lot sooner.”

You laughed immediately. Not so much as a bitter one but more on the side where you thought it was genuinely funny of what he said. “You’re sorry that you used me to gain attention of another woman?” you rephrased.

“Y/n,” Kuroo said but you beat him from finishing.

“No, no,” you laughed letting the alcohol settle in a bit, “I’m right though. You dated me all those years - not only wasted my time but also yours. And then when you lost her for a bit you settled with me, right?”

Kuroo looked away in guilt because now being a full grown man he has regrets. And one of them is of him using you emotionally. Using your kindness, the tender kisses, the soft words of encouragement, and your love was what he regrets and has been regretting for years. You were in front of him this whole time but he turned a blind eye and chose someone who wasn’t looking his way much like what he did to you. It haunts him, honestly. Your tear stained face was what woke him up from the mask he was hiding his true intentions from behind.

He knew better than to reach you again but he thought he was going to be happier being with the woman he’s been chasing after for years. Lo-and-behold, she grew tired of him or in other words-grew tired of using him. They dated for a year but it was toxic. So much so that when he was finally rid of her, he didn’t cry. He had a breath of relief slip past his lips when she left with her bags.

“Y/n… I know I should’ve done better back then but I was blinded,” he sighed as he ran his fingers through his mess of black hair, “It was too late for me to reach you by the time I realized how much I missed you.”

“How much you missed me?” you repeated with a scoff, “You wanted the benefits from being with me, not the commitment. You were looking for that somewhere else all while I loved you.”

And there was another wake up call for Kuroo. He watched you slide out of your seat and leave the restaurant without giving him another chance. He respects you for that though because in the long run, he doesn’t deserve what you can give/offer him.

So he masks his sulks and aching heart because he knows he has no right to feel the heaviness in his chest. But it’s hard to ignore as more guilt washes through him like a tsunami.

He’s lost you for good.

#anime characters #haikyuu angst #kuroo tetsuro x you #haikyuu kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo angst #heavy heart #regrets #exboyfriend #kuroo x y/n #kuroo tetsurō #tetsurou x reader #haikyuu bokuto #angst with no happy ending #i can relate #haikyuu headers #haikyuu characters #kuroo hcs #kuroo imagine

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thesistersarcheron · 1 year

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Pairing: Elriel Rating: E Word Count: ~4k Tags: Kindergarten Teacher Azriel, Shibari Artist Elain, Fluff, Smut, Social Media, BDSM, Modern AU Summary: After a messy breakup with her college sweetheart, Elain retreated from her life as a social butterfly, moved home to Velaris, and started a work-from-home career as a shibari artist and a playful, kinky influencer on social media. She’s perfectly comfortable at home, using her earnings from her small online empire to build a greenhouse in her backyard and start a side-hustle as a florist.

But her little sister, Feyre, is eager to get Elain out of hiding—and to set her up with a man to whom she might cling for some peace and quiet. However, there’s more than meets the eye when it comes to Feyre’s long-time friend and the local kindergarten teacher, Azriel.

And Elain knows it all too well.

Read this fic on AO3!

Despite her tooth-chattering nerves and the dark, bitter coffee Rhys had presented her with when he swung by her house to give her a lift across town, Elain was still yawning when she followed him into the small auditorium at the back of the school the next morning.

“Elain!” Feyre’s head popped out from behind an upright slab of jagged plywood—the backside of Night’s three mountains, Elain realized—with a tired, slightly crazed look in her eyes. “You’re here!”

Oh, how Elain wished she wasn’t in that moment.

“I can go,” she offered, only half joking, as she rubbed a bit of sleep from her eyes and peered around the room. “Whose idea was it to schedule this so early anyway?”

The entire auditorium was in chaos. Feyre had taken command of an entire corner, filling it with half-painted set pieces and mountains of rolled paper in every color of the rainbow. The small platform that served as a stage was blanketed in painted canvas, the backdrop only half hung. Fairy lights dangled in haphazard swags from the ceiling—a dangerous croak of metal-on-metal caught her attention, and she turned to find Cassian perched atop a rusty ladder that looked liable to collapse under his weight, adjusting the twinkling web of lights.

And at the bottom of the ladder, steadying the worrisome thing, was the monster of a man that had kept Elain up all night long.

In a soft navy sweater she wanted to sink her fingers into and an even softer pair of joggers, Azriel didn’t seem nearly as intimidating as he had in the shadows of Rita’s deck the previous night. He was still criminally tall, still just as firmly, mouth-wateringly muscled as he had been when he backed Elain up against that railing and promised to make her his while he pressed every hard, tempting line of his body to hers.

Mine, his voice echoed in her mind. I’ve wanted you since I first saw you. Mine, mine, mine.

But today, in the watery morning light streaming in through the high windows and gilding the dark, windswept locks of his hair, the man looked so huggable that the butterflies in Elain’s stomach fluttered with such force that she worried they might shred her to bits with their delicate wings.

He was everything she’d ever wanted in a man, yes.

And, as close a family friend as Azriel, he was a very, very bad idea.

But he was so damned huggable that Elain couldn’t bring herself to care.

Her world fell apart in slow-motion as he cocked his head, registering her arrival, and turned. All she could see in the chaos was the bare expanse of rich, brown skin where his sweater rode up and the long, tempting lines of his hips where they disappeared into those joggers, pointing toward—

Mine, mine, mine—

“Mine,” Rhys teased, and Elain jolted, tearing her eyes away from Azriel in time to catch her brother-in-law tip his head toward the coffee cup in her hand, “but I’m afraid payment has been rendered, so you have to stay.”

“Oh,” Elain grinned, curling her chilly fingers tightly around the cardboard sleeve. “Does it really count if you got my order wrong?”

Feyre scoffed, dropping the paintbrush she was holding into a stained plastic cup with a splash, and hustled up the skinny pathway left between rolling carts full of boxes and craft supplies. She scrunched her nose at Azriel, who went stone-faced as she passed.

“They’re all terrible about that. Sugar police, all of them,” her sister complained, huffing. “But Rhys is the real sadist who—”

“Refuses to let his darling wife develop diabetes again or expose her genetically predisposed sisters to the risk.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. “It was gestational diabetes, it went away, and it happened five years ago.”

“Nevertheless…” Rhys clicked his tongue. “Nothing cures a hangover like strong black coffee.”

“Fortunately, I’m young and resilient enough that I don’t get hangovers.”

“Yet, my love.” Rhys’s eyes glittered. “You don’t get hangovers yet.”

For once, Elain was thankful for Feyre’s incessant flirting—thankful that she didn’t have to give a moment’s thought to which man in the room might be the real sadist. She stepped into the open circle of her sister’s arms for a hug, dodging Rhys and the smear of wet paint on one of Feyre’s cheeks.

“You can go if you really want,” Feyre muttered into her ear.

“I was just kidding. I can help,” Elain said, and left it at that.

Tired as she was, the rest of their night out had been a calm one, even though she spent most of it suspended in a state of shock that a group of adults who woke up anywhere from four to six in the morning all week long could stay out so late.

She had returned to their table alone, still shivering with the cold and lingering nerves. Sliding in beside Rhys had been easy; the air inside the bar felt changed, lighter, less oppressive—but she’d thought that maybe the change had been something within her. Something Nesta might see the moment she laid eyes on her.

But even though she worried that the lascivious details of her run-in with Azriel were written on her face, no one spared her a second glance when she sank into her seat, breathing into her palms to thaw her stiff fingers. Nesta was riled up about something as usual, snapping at Cassian, and Rhys and Feyre had gotten tipsy enough to become consumed in an overly affectionate world of their own. Only Mor had paid enough attention to notice her return, sliding Elain a fresh cookie with a little smile, and when Az returned a moment later with her drink and Mor’s brows rose, he had given his friend a look so flat that it made Elain squirm.

But Mor, unflappable as ever, merely shrugged and returned to licking the frosting off of her own dessert.

They migrated to Sevenda’s for a real dinner to pad out the alcohol after a few more rounds. Even then Azriel had been a gentleman, quietly helping Elain and Mor over patches of ice on the sidewalk without once giving anything away. Without hinting to anyone else what Elain saw when she curled her fingers into his elbow and held on for dear life—the darkening of his eyes and his too-even, disciplined breaths. Not even when dinner stretched into the early hours of the morning, when Elain’s attention ended up on Azriel more often than not after she finally began to feel the effects of the wine and good food warm her from the inside out, did he so much as hint that he’d captured her ankle between both of his when they first sat down across from one another and hadn’t let her go for hours.

And finally, the brush of his lips against her ear when he helped untangle her limbs and lower her into Nesta’s car for the long drive home.

Sweet dreams, bunny.

That near-silent rasp was more intoxicating than anything she’d had to drink the entire evening, flooding her bloodstream like molten ore, and it had kept Elain up all night long.

“Aunt Elain!”

Feyre stumbled back as Nyx soared through the tiny gap between them and curled himself around Elain’s legs.

“Gentle, Nyx,” she warned him, catching Feyre by the strap of her overalls before she could topple over.

“Sorry.” Her nephew turned his big, blue eyes on his mother, waiting until Feyre softened to aim them back at Elain. “But Aunt Elain, did you see?” Little plastic wings sprouted from the fist he held up to her. He opened his hand when she bent down for a better look, revealing a grinning, winged warrior in bedazzled medieval armor with the longest sword Elain had ever seen strapped to his back. “I got the Lord of Bloodshed!”

Elain blinked at it—and at the blood splatter bisecting its face. When she opened her mouth, a faintly horrified “Wow, Nyx!” was all that came out of it.

“I already have the Spymaster.” Nyx hugged her legs tighter and then launched himself away, slashing his toy through the air with a loud swoooo-oosh! “Now I just need Death Incarnate, and I’ll have the whole set.”

“Death Incarnate…?” Elain stared after her nephew.

Such a big word for his high-pitched, little boy voice.

“Don’t ask. Cassian got him hooked on this awful cartoon,” Feyre warned her, rolling her eyes. “And they do those mystery packs of action figures. Nyx has been dying to find that one for weeks now.”

From the top of his ladder, Cassian crowed, “Don’t act like I didn’t catch you watching it, too!”

“It’s too mature for him,” Feyre admonished, but a guilty flush stole over her cheeks. Rhys made a quiet, amused noise, and she glared over her shoulder at her husband. “Don’t encourage them!”

Rhys shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back onto his heels. “I didn’t say anything, darling. Why don’t we let Elain get settled in? She can…”

His violet eyes scanned the auditorium. Elain clasped her hands together around her cup, trying not to feel too awkward as Rhys’s brow furrowed.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any greenery that needs arranging?” she offered when the silence stretched for a beat too long. “Wreaths, garlands, that sort of thing?”

Feyre gasped. “Oh, the garlands! We forgot the garlands. I knew we were leaving out something.”

Elain wilted.

“I could use some help.”

And perked right back up as Azriel shifted toward them again, revealing the firm plane of his stomach that Elain wanted to get on her knees and—

“I was just about to finish rigging the backdrop when we were done with the lights. Feyre said you crochet, right?” Every thought in Elain’s head floated away, replaced by a chanting chorus of rigging, rigging, rigging. Azriel flashed her the barest ghost of a polite smile—and the look simmering behind his eyes that told her he was more than familiar with the barely-there bikini she’d crocheted on camera and then tried on for her subscribers last year. “Then ropes shouldn’t be too much different. Rhys can take over with Cassian while we work on the stage.”

Elain was going to spontaneously combust and die. She was certain of it.

But in the meantime…

She nodded, pretending not to see the grateful look Feyre and Rhys shot at Azriel.

“Great.” Azriel waited until Rhys took his place with Cassian, and then tilted his head toward the stage, leading the way with long, steady strides that did nothing to quell the wildfire spreading through every inch of her.

She only remembered herself when Azriel loped up the few stairs and ducked beneath a thick rope holding the backdrop aloft, lifting it out of the way for her to follow.

“I don’t know how to do this,” she admitted, eyeing the framework of metal and canvas and rope.

Azriel simply hummed, bending down to snatch something out of the shadows beneath the backdrop. “Don’t you?”

A scarred hand held out a small bundle of expertly coiled black nylon rope. Industrial rope, nothing like the smooth, soft lines of the Shadowsinger’s preferred cotton, but the knot holding it together was too intricate, too artistic, to belong to anyone but him.

She shot a glance over the top of the backdrop toward her family, but no one was looking at her. Feyre was too busy swiping broad swaths of paint over her mountains, while Rhys shook the ladder until Cassian scowled down at him.

“I—” Elain crossed her arms over her chest, but her eyes were anchored to the rope. To the fingers that flexed and stroked the rope as she watched. “You are… Oh, you…!”

Her tongue tied itself into a knot, and she huffed. What could she say? Difficult? Bothersome? Or, to take a page from one of Nesta’s grocery-store historical romances, vexing?

Elain cursed the innate primness that, no matter how much porn she made or filthy, kinky sex she had, she had never managed to shake off.

Every insult she could bring herself to say lacked heat, and everything she wanted to say—tempting, infuriating, cocky, arrogant—was too rude to throw at a family friend she barely knew. Too insulting to use against the man she desperately wanted to tie her up and take control of her pleasure.

Too bratty.

“Say whatever you want to say, Elain,” Azriel said, as calm and unbothered as the glassy, still surface of a lake. She wrenched her attention away from his hands, redirecting herself to focus on his face, and found another message written in the wry twist of his lips.

For now.

Abruptly, Azriel turned, gesturing at the hanging frame of metal poles spanning the width of the stage. The backdrop was already clamped to it with a handful of clips, but Elain could see them straining beneath the weight of the canvas and paint. “I’ve already set up the frame that we’ll attach the backdrop to. I just need someone to help thread ties through the grommets in the backdrop and make about a hundred knots to attach the two.”

“And then you’ll suspend it?” Elain studied the system of ropes and pulleys hanging from the ceiling. Azriel made a noise of confirmation, and she glanced at him. “This is awfully sophisticated for an elementary school.”

“It was a weekend project that took a couple hundred bucks at the home improvement store.” His eyes slid to hers, sparkling with amusement. “I’m just lucky to have a principal dedicated to maintaining a robust arts program.”

Elain rocked back onto her heels and nodded. “And I suppose it helps to have an expert rigger on staff…”

“It’s not quite my preferred medium,” Azriel admitted. He didn’t bother to refute her, or even to pretend at modesty as he absentmindedly tapped the coil of rope against his thigh, and she burned. “But not having to pay a contractor was a bonus.”

Again, he offered her the bundle of rope. This time, Elain took it, curling her fingers into it, seeking out the warmth his hand left behind as if she might touch him by proxy, and noticed it was cut into foot-long increments. She fingered the ends of the segments as he stepped away; each and every one had been neatly melted down, likely with the same silver lighter that she knew Azriel had in his pocket, so it didn’t unravel.

“Look at me, Elain.” Azriel’s voice was a low timber, brushing against the back of her neck and curling into the hollow behind her ear. A bit of rope rasped against her skin, the touch too firm not to be deliberate, and Elain gasped.

The auditorium disappeared, and it was just the two of them, alone in her room. Surrounded by her soft duvet and her jasmine-scented candles and bundle after bundle of the Shadowsinger’s black rope. All she knew were the twisting fibers he wound over her collarbone, tracing the lines of her shoulder blade, and his warm breath grazing her skin. His fingers, pulling at a knot to make sure it was secure and pulling the breath from her lungs as he did. A hand cupping her breast through the harness he crafted for her, the rough pad of his thumb flicking over a pebbled nipple. His cock, straining against her ass as he bent her over the mattress and prepared her to take every last inch of it.

She turned her head and looked at him.

“You’re going to be so good for me, aren’t you?” He was looking down at her through those thick, dark lashes, his eyes heavily lidded, and Elain was reminded of the way he’d stolen a look down the front of her dress the previous evening. The way he’d luxuriated in the sight of her, as if her worn-out cotton bra was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

And although the question was spoken in little more than a whisper, it sent a shock of desire through right to her core.

Gods, the effect he had on her without even touching her.

Dazed, Elain nodded.

“Good girl.” Azriel’s slight smile was devastating, and he tapped her arm with the rope he must have picked up when she wasn’t paying attention. “We’ll start in the middle of the backdrop and work our way out. Just use a square knot, and make sure to put some cute little bunny ears on the ones you tie.”

Elain’s knots were fucking flawless.

Each and every one was perfectly identical, and the backdrop was entirely smooth, not a single tuck or pull in sight hinting at any issue with her tension.

He had expected her to be good, but Azriel couldn’t find a single fault with her work.

And Elain, who was blinking up at him with her wide doe eyes, seemed entirely oblivious to the way he wanted to throw her over his shoulder, tell Rhys to go fuck himself, and spend the rest of the weekend giving into his basest, beastly desire to stake a claim on her while rewarding her thoroughly for a job well done.

Hell, it was a gods-damned miracle he hadn’t given into the temptation to cuff his belt around her wrists and take her on Rita’s deck. He was many things, but an exhibitionist he was not.

But that didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Elain Archeron, with her gentle heart and her beautiful, deceptively innocent face, deserved so much more than a quick fuck at a dive bar. Frankly, she deserved more than him—surely there was some attractive, perverted billionaire out there who could put her up in a penthouse and get off on her spending all of his money when he wasn’t tying her up—but Azriel couldn’t find the willpower to give a shit.

“Well? Do they pass muster?”

Azriel huffed, flicking the loops on top of one of her knots. “I think so.”

Elain beamed, and Azriel wanted to possess her mouth. “You know,” she started, flicking her eyes to the side. “You said we’d speak more today…”

“Did I?” Azriel couldn’t resist teasing her, couldn’t resist the way her cheeks turned pink for him. He knew the blush fell beneath the high neckline of her sweater; he knew the tops of her breasts were stained with the same color as her face. “About what?”

“A collaboration.” Elain squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, her gaze direct, and something in Azriel’s chest thudded alarmingly against his breastbone.

He could see the slight hesitation lingering in that movement, the hint of insecurity in the way she shifted on her feet, and knew it had something to do with the reason she returned to Velaris, the messy, panicked way Feyre and Nesta had circled the wagons when they realized their sister wasn’t doing well.

“I usually film on weekdays,” Elain went on. Although she kept her voice hushed, it was firm, and he admired her more for it. “But I’m free next Saturday if you’d like to...”

She trailed off, swallowing whatever she was planning to say next.

Azriel took pity on her. “Saturday works. We can swap numbers and plan more during the week.” He tipped his head at Rhys, who kept rocking the ladder whenever Cassian reached for the final strand of fairy lights; they were a convenient excuse to slip away before he damned himself to a deeper layer of hell. “I don’t think I should leave them alone together for much longer.”

And, he privately thought, a little distance might give her a chance to ghost him with a bit of grace when he finally revealed everything he wanted to do to her.

“Okay.” Elain beamed at him, pulling her phone from the back pocket of the tight, tight jeans Azriel had been doing his damned best not to stare at for too long, and handed it to him.

He tapped it awake, and the home screen slid away with a swipe of his finger. He lifted a brow.

“No passcode?”

“That’s my personal phone,” Elain explained, tangling a hand in the curled ends of her hair. “I usually keep my, ah, work on separate devices.”

“Oh, so it’s a privilege to be added to this one.” Az opened her contacts, ignoring the way he wanted to replace that hand with his own, and created a new one for himself. “I see.”

She pulled nervously at her hair, the tips of her fingers going white as the circulation cut off—

Ah. A bad habit.

He made a mental note of it.

“It’s overdue. I’ve been avoiding…” She sighed. “Everyone, and I’m afraid that meant you, too.”

“Nothing wrong with wanting little personal space,” Azriel reassured her as he saved his information and sent himself a quick text before opening her browser. “You seem to be doing well enough now.”

“I am,” she agreed, looking up at him through her lashes, and he caught only a glimpse of the small smile that bloomed on her lips before forcing himself to focus on her phone again.

He could not get turned on in sweatpants. Not with his brothers fifteen feet away, always painfully attuned to any opportunity to embarrass Azriel, even at their big ages.

And certainly not with Elain’s sister squinting up at them from her painting station.

A few minutes of searching led Azriel to the he was looking for, and he flipped the phone in one deft motion, offering it back to Elain. He savored the impressed look on her face, the wide eyes and round lips, that made showing off like a pathetic high schooler worth it.

“What’s this?” she asked, zooming in on the worksheet he’d downloaded for her. He caught a glimpse of one of the items on the list—anal plugs - public under clothes—before her eyes went impossibly wider. She turned the phone off, shoving it into her back pocket.

“It’s a consent worksheet. I want you to mark your preferences and limits before we meet again, so we have a clear baseline established,” Azriel explained, but from the shy, dawning look of understanding on Elain’s face, it was unnecessary.

Nevertheless, a beat passed as she glanced back at the auditorium for a moment before her jaw dropped. “…You’re assigning me homework?”

“I thought you might be more comfortable filling this out on your own. No external pressure. You can look at mine when we meet on Saturday, and we can decide where to go from there.”

She shifted on the balls of her feet, lifting her fingers and the curls wrapped around them to her lips. “So…” Her voice was hushed. “Definitely homework.”

Az suppressed his grin.

“If that’s how you want to think of it. Should I bring a red pen and deduct points if you fail to fill something out on Saturday?”

Elain sucked in a breath. “You would do—?”

“Az!” Rhys’s voice slashed through the tense air between them as Elain rocked forward, and Az glared toward him. But when his brother redirected his attention toward Nyx, fast asleep on a pair of folding chairs and on the verge of toppling onto the hard ground, Azriel’s irritation melted away. “Come get him before he gives himself a concussion, will you?”

Elain made a soft sound, her hands curling together over her heart.

Azriel chuckled and placed a hand on the small of her back to guide her back through the web of rigging keeping the backdrop aloft.

“Fill it out,” he reminded her as they stepped off of the dais. “And text me if you have any questions. I’d hate to give you a bad grade.”

Elain was already a mess when she fell onto a small folding stool beside Feyre, but as she watched Azriel kneel in front of Nyx, tickle him awake with gentle hands, and then lift the drowsy little boy into his arms, carefully tucking his Lord of Bloodshed toy into one of his pockets, she thought death by nervous butterflies and spontaneous combustion would be too slow.

It had to be criminal to be so attractive.

Even Feyre heaved a smitten sigh as Nyx buried his face in Azriel’s neck. Azriel bent his head toward Nyx, shadowing him from the fluorescent lights as he swayed gently to some unsung tune, and Elain echoed her.

“He’s so good with him, isn’t he?” Feyre asked distantly, and all Elain could do was nod.

Would it be too weird if she took out her phone to take a picture? It would, wouldn’t it? All of a sudden, she couldn’t tell. Her hand was already itching toward her pocket.

“You wouldn’t believe it looking at them, but when Nyx was little, Az used to act like he’d shatter him.” Feyre snorted and shook her head. “I think he wasn’t used to children being quite so small. He told me once that kindergarteners were much less breakable, but he stepped up in no time. And now…”

Her sister spared her the embarrassment and lifted her own phone from beneath a pile of crumpled papers, snapping a picture.

“I need to paint that,” Feyre muttered. She pressed a few buttons and winked when Elain’s phone buzzed. “So you can remind me to paint that.”

Elain’s answering scowl was half-hearted. “Oh, Feyre—”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Nesta,” Feyre kicked at her stool until Elain stood and hooked their arms together. “Come on, heart eyes. We’re done, and I think the boys want to take him to the park when he wakes up. That’s a snowball fight you don’t want to get caught in.”

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #elain #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of thorns and roses fic #my fics #glitch #elain x azriel

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 7 months

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Pleasure Is My Business: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Summary: You’re brought back to your high school days with this case. You put that behind you when you graduated, but life has a funny way of bringing you closer to the person who made your life miserable back then.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

Larry was reluctant to send everything over but he did it. So, when you walk into the police station the next morning, Hotch already has all the files on the desk. Spencer is in the break room getting some coffee and you join his side to get the day started with some caffeine.

"Tonight is the first night of the reunion," he says.

"Fine, I'll go for a couple of hours and say hi to everyone. I don't know why they deserve it since all of them treated me like shit. I'm pretty sure they still hate me."

"You're an FBI agent. It doesn't matter what they've done with their lives. You're helping so many people despite what they've done to you. Nothing else matters."

"You're absolutely right," you grin and kiss him.

You two grab coffees for everyone before heading over to the empty conference room. Hotch is already on the phone with Penelope as everyone shuffles into the room.

"This guy is richie-rich. Eighteen cars, six houses, and three boats. Can you even boat in Dallas?"

"When you're talking about that much money, ten grand for a call girl is like deciding where to go for dinner," Emily says.

"I have half a million over here for something called the bat cave, and here's a picture of him as fetish Batman. That is wrong," JJ shudders and shows the picture.

"Is there anything this guy didn't like to spend money on?"

"Yeah, his ex-wives. Fielding was married four times. He didn't have prenups in the first two, but he did everything he could to cut off his ex-wives."

"Are there children involved?" you ask.

"Yes, with three of the wives. Hoyt Ashford was married a few times, too, wasn't he?"

"You know, considering that when Kevin takes me to dinner and a movie, he defaults on his student loans," Penelope divulges. "This amount of money is sick."

"What did you find?"

"All three of our dearly departed rich guys were embroiled in bitter court battles over how much to pay in alimony and child support, and even when the court ruled in the wife's favor, these three charmers just decided not to pay."

"Garcia, can you generate a list of high-profile Dallas CEOs who are holding out on their ex-wives?" Hotch asks.

"One loaded losers list, Dallas edition, coming at ya. Penelope out."

"So, why would a prominent businessman who could easily pay child support refuse to?" you ask when Penelope hangs up.

"For this type of overachieving personality, paying money after the marriage ends probably offends him."

"They're spending tens of thousands on an escort, but they won't drop a dime on their wife and kids? That's cold," JJ shakes her head.

"Meanwhile, most prostitutes come from broken homes and she's listening to pillow talk. That could serve as some sort of trigger about how their ex-wives are cheating them out of money, and how their kids are nagging them. It's everything that these men take for granted that she never had."

"Should I assemble the police for a profile?" JJ asks.

"I don't think it's gonna help. She lives in a completely different world than they do. The same thing goes for the news-watching public. The CEOs who sleep with her won't admit to it."

"I couldn't even get past the team of lawyers protecting them," JJ says.

"What if we give the profile to the corporate lawyers? They've cleaned up after her even if they don't realize that they've seen this woman," Hotch suggests.

"Every time we've approached them, they've circled the wagons. What makes you think this is going to be any different?"

"She's putting them at risk, too."

"I'll gather the lawyers."

As soon as JJ gathers the corporate lawyers, your entire team stands in front of them to deliver the profile to them. There are about three dozen lawyers in the room of all different backgrounds. You scan the entire room only to stop at someone you recognize. This man used to go to the same high school as you in Dallas. He ran in the crowd that bullied you the most, though, he doesn't seem to recognize you.

"We're looking for a white woman between the ages of twenty-five and thirty. She's being paid between ten and fifteen thousand per session, and she's very well versed in the world of money and privilege."

"Even though she's a call girl, she doesn't look like one. She could pass as a businesswoman or a co-worker. You've probably written up her personal expenses as losses such as shoes, jewelry, and clothing. Your bosses pay her in cash, but they may also be paying her in other ways like taking care of her, getting her a new car, and even paying for her medical bills."

"She probably didn't grow up with a father figure, and she is now turning that rage toward clients who walk out on their families," Emily adds.

"What's going to happen once this woman is caught?" one of the lawyers asks.

"She'll be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law."

"What about the other men she's sleeping with, the ones she doesn't kill? Will they be prosecuted?"

"Right now we're concentrating on stopping her from killing again."

"That's all well and good, but our employers are going to ask us about the risks involved In cooperating with an FBI investigation," another lawyer asks.

"Tell your employers that the risk is not only a physical one. She's compromising privileged information as well. After she sleeps with these men, they talk to her. It's part of the release they get in seeing her. All that dirty laundry you've worked so hard to cover up, she knows it. As long as she's out there, it's not just your clients that are vulnerable. Your firms are, too," you warn.

"Excuse me," a young woman speaks up from the back. "I'm Allison Barnes. I'm a lawyer at Webster Industries where Joseph Fielding worked."

"This is really not the time," Larry tries to stop her.

"We'd like to hear what she has to say. Go ahead, Ms. Barnes."

"A while back, I looked at some paperwork that Mr. Fielding filed about a penthouse downtown. I asked him what he'd be using it for, and he just kind of chuckled and said it was for a friend. Is that the kind of information you're looking for?"

"Do you have an address?" JJ asks and walks over to her.

"Please heed our warning. We're doing our best to get to her before she strikes again. Thank you."

Before the man you recognize can leave the meeting, you walk up to him with a friendly smile on your face.

"Jason? Jason Gavins?"

"Yeah? Don't tell me I'm in trouble," he jokes.

"No, nothing like that. I'm Y/N. We went to North Dallas High School together. Do you remember me or am I just coming off as creepy?" you chuckle.

"No, I remember you. I'm just shocked that you're here. Wow, it's been a long time."

"How have you been?"

"Good. I can tell by your badge that you've been good, too. Wow, the big FBI, huh? I always knew you'd do something special like that."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on. I'm assuming abilities like yours don't go away over time."

"You're right," you chuckle. "This might be a stretch, but did you happen to get a reunion invitation?"

"Yeah. I think it'll be fun to go for a night. Are you going?"

"Maybe for a few hours."

"I hope to see you there," he flirts.

He leaves just as Spencer joins your side.

"What was that about?"

"He and I went to high school together here in Dallas. He ran with the crowd who bullied me, but I don't think he remembers it."

The penthouse that Allison gave JJ is definitely home to the unsub. She must be staying here in between kills. You enter the penthouse knowing you're going to see the same blue energy, but it's driving you crazy not remembering who it belongs to. This place is too clean to have someone live here, which means she might have a different place to live. An initial sweep doesn't come up with anything out of the ordinary, but after spending some time in the bedroom, a few things pop out at you.

"Do you have anything?" Derek asks.

"No, and she seems too smart to leave a receipt lying around."

"Check this out," you say. You open a jewelry box that houses expensive rings and bracelets. "She's got a lot of high-end designer jewelry here, and then this." You pick up a small ring that's not like the others. "It's way too small to be an adult's. She probably kept it from her childhood."

"It's a purity ring. By wearing it, you promise to save yourself for marriage," Emily explains.

"She broke that promise a long time ago." Derek opens her closet doors only to find a leather suit used for sex. "Hey, Y/N, got a whip?"

"Nah, I'm not into that," you laugh.

"There are antique first editions on the bookshelves," you hear Hotch say from the living room.

"There's nothing identifiable. No pictures or sense of personality. Her lifestyle is completely disposable."

"Well, these aren't just for show." Hotch points to the books. "The spines are cracked. Somebody's been reading these. You know, we profiled that she learned to fake privilege. What if she's not faking it?"

"You're saying maybe she came from money the whole time?"

"Maybe."

The living room phone rings, and for some reason, you know that the call is meant for the FBI. It's like someone knows the FBI is in this room right now.

"Y/N or Prentiss should answer. If it's a customer, she'll get more information out of them," Spencer suggests.

"Unless she's calling in for her messages."

Derek takes out his phone and gets Penelope on the line.

"Yeah, Garcia, we're getting a call to this line. Can you work some magic?"

"I don't have a trap-and-trace in place yet. Give me a few."

"Prentiss, get ready to vamp. She's gonna work it."

The machine picks up the call, patching in whoever is calling.

Hi, it's me. You know what to do.

"Aaron. I know you're up there," the unsub says. "Pick up. Aaron Hotchner."

How the hell does she know who Hotch is? He must have run into her without knowing she was the unsub. Hotch looks at everyone before answering the phone. The machine is still on, so you're able to hear her side of the conversation, too.

The thing is, you've heard this voice before. You know this person. At some point in your life, you've either run into this woman or knew her, but where?

"Hello? I'm at a disadvantage. You seem to know my name, but I don't know yours. Can we start there?"

"I thought I could trust you, Aaron."

"Who says you can't?"

"I want to. I even looked you up online. Is that strange?"

"No. It's flattering to be noticed by a woman like you."

"I thought you were so upstanding. I watched the presentation you gave on school shootings. I found it posted on YouTube. For a moment, I actually thought there were still good people in the world."

"I've disappointed you, haven't I? Just like all the other men in your life who've walked out on their families, who deserve to be punished."

"Did you walk out on your family?"

"No, my wife left me."

"Do you have kids?"

"I have a son."

"How often do you see him?"

"I try to see him every week."

"Do you see him every week?"

"No, I don't get there as often as I want," Hotch sighs.

"I believe you, but don't compare yourself to the men I see. You are nothing like them. You're just another whore."

"How am I a whore? You come when called. You do their bidding. In hotels, you take the side elevator to avoid crowds while the men who pay your salary walk across the ivory marble foyer into their cars, but I'm just frustrating you, aren't I?"

"Garcia, anything?" Derek whispers into his phone.

"I'm on the landline, triangulating the cell. Give me sixty seconds."

"What do you mean?" the woman asks.

"You want to show the world all these bad me, and my investigation's just getting in your way."

"No, Aaron. You're not doing your job!" she yells. Your eyes widen in recognition at the exact moment you figure out who this woman is. You cover your mouth to keep your gasp from getting out. "You don't want to arrest me and don't want me in custody because you're in their pocket. You just want me to disappear, just like they do."

"Truthfully, I'm only interested in finding you. You've been betrayed so many times. You don't know who to trust, and that's why that first murder felt so good. However, each one since has been less and less satisfying. You know that's going to continue. Am I right?"

"Yeah," she whispers.

"Come to me and turn yourself in. I will make sure that you get the help you need. I won't let you disappear.

"If we met under different circumstances, I could believe that. I won't let you cover this up."

A gunshot goes off on the other line before she clicks off. She's killed another man, another victim in her pocket.

"Garcia, talk to me," Derek says.

Penelope got the location of the phone call, but as you suspected, the man, Trent Rabner, was already dead inside his car. The only thing to go off of is the phone call she had with Hotch, and it's only until everyone is back at the station do you reveal where you know her from.

"I know who our unsub is."

"You do? How?" Hotch asks.

"The first time I saw her energy at the office firm in the elevator, I recognized it immediately. I came across this woman at some point in my life. The next crime scene only made me realize not only did I come across her, I actually knew her. Then, I heard her speak over the phone and when she got so angry, it clicked in my head.

"Her name is Megan Kane, and I went to high school with her here in Dallas. I caught her and a teacher having sex which resulting him getting fired. She became the laughingstock immediately. Everyone was talking about it. She got so pissed at me, but our unsub is her. My high school is having a reunion, and I'll put all my money on her being there tonight. One of the lawyers we talked to will also be there. He might have seen her or talked to her. He was one of her best friend's boyfriends in high school."

"Have Garcia get us everything she can on Megan Kane," Hotch says. "Morgan and Prentiss, go talk to the lawyer and see if he knows anything."

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mygloviesme · 8 months

Text

cool about it, eleven years later. || myg

no. 2 of 3: she called me a fucking liar

predebut/debut!yoongi x female idol

summary: eleven years later, kanako lives in nyc with her childhood best friend keiko. bts have become a household name that floods her every day life, and she's learned to ignore it. after years of moving on from those months she spent with the seven boys, she finds herself in a good place. what happens after one fateful night she finally runs into faces she's tried so hard to run away from?

(definitely inspired by boygenius)

word count: 4.6k

genre: ANGST, fluff, melodrama

chapter warnings: mentions of mental health, drinking, smoking

inspo song: worldstar money by joji

JULY 9TH, 2023, 10:48PM

The woman next to Yoongi loops her arm around his, holding him close. A knife puncturing my stomach only twists further. Further and further.

“Who’s this?” She asks genuinely, kindly. Oh, I loathe her. I hate myself for it but I hate her more. The feelings I’m having are childish and jealous, completely unreasonable. But she’s so perfect. Her body fits into his like they were made for each other. I don’t recognize myself right now. It feels like high school with the way I’m obsessing over her every move.

All I want to do right now is run into the club and down more drinks than I can fathom. Self destructive is the right word. I was never one for spite, but right now I wish I had a man on my own arm.

“This is…Kanako.” He speaks, gulping.

Her eyes widen and she breaks apart from him, taking my hands. “Oh my goodness! I didn’t even recognize you! I’m Aimee, remember? I was a trainee at Bighit for a little while.”

The memories flood my brain as I recount who exactly she was. I do remember her. After the news broke out, she was the one who told me I could still take back what I said about Haneul. She was on his side.

This is who he’s with? I feel a burning in my stomach, a validating one. I have a reason to dislike her. It gives me reason to hate her. And God, do I hate her right now.

I look at Yoongi as Aimee holds my hands in hers, utter incredulity painting my face like a mural. I’m not sure if he remembers, but I do. Those words all those years ago were repeated over and over again so I could hate myself even more. She was amongst the people that made me afraid to go outside ever again.

Haneul doesn’t have that power over me anymore, and neither does she. At least for being on his side. But I’m definitely giving her power by wanting to rip her away from Yoongi. This is getting embarrassing.

“Yes. I do. You were friends with Haneul, weren’t you?” I smile with bitterness. I’m old enough to make statements now. I’m old enough to create boundaries. I don’t have to lie about liking someone. Fuck being the bigger person. I’ve been big, I’ve been small. I’ve done it all.

Her beaming smile fades and she lets go of me, “N-No. Well, yes. But I know better now, I’m so sorry for what I said. I haven’t spoken to him in over a decade.” She says. Yeah, right.

Yoongi only stands with his hands in his pockets, not saying a word. I don’t want to be talking to Aimee, but I’m not entirely sure I want to be talking to him either. I don’t know if I have the strength to, considering how it went with Jungkook. There’s too many thoughts circling my mind at this very moment, all of them being about Yoongi. I don’t even know if I would consider him an ex, someone I knew, the one that got away. Because that would be me, I got away.

I know I should’ve moved on long ago. I know I did in certain ways. But still after all these years I never understood why I could never give myself to someone else.The feelings for Yoongi had never dissipated, I just forgot what it’s like for him to be standing in front of me. Looking like that.

This hurts so fucking bad.

“Hey, Koko.” I hear Keiko say from behind Yoongi. She holds her bag as well as mine. Her body is asking if I’m ready to go. She knows. “It’s alright Aimee. Have a good night.” I say and nod to Yoongi who makes strong eye-contact with me.

I turn to Namjoon, “How long are you going to be in New York for?”

“Just two more days.” He says, “We can meet up again if you’d like.”

I walk to Keiko, grabbing my bag. “I’ll call you.” I tell him. He nods slowly and I wave a quick good-bye before me and Keiko head off into the Uber she called over.

As I walk away I’m fighting the urge to look back. I didn’t then, but I want to now. A part of me wants to tell Yoongi that I want to see him again. But the other part wants me to ignore all those precious memories we have together and lock them in a box, throwing away the key. Don’t look back. Don’t look back. I grip my purse tighter, biting my lip.

Before we get into the Uber, I reluctantly choose to look back. I hold the car door with one hand, turning to Yoongi. He was already looking at me. Those almond eyes. I keep that short moment in my back-pocket, saving it for tonight.

He looked back, and so did I.

JULY 9TH, 2023, 12:34AM

Me and Keiko sit on my bed, face masks on and a tub of ice cream between us with one spoon staked in the frozen dessert. It’s rocky-road, my favorite but her least favorite. She knew how much I needed it though, so she succumbed to the chunky-goodness.

“So how was it?”

“What?”

She rolls her eyes, “You know what I’m talking about.”

I take a deep breath, exhaling for a moment. “Awful. Jungkook was so upset, and I mean for the right reasons. But it just took me by surprise. He was so…sure with himself. Namjoon is sort of the same. Level-headed. But Yoongi…”

“He has long hair now.”

I shove her playfully, “Shut up!”

She takes the spoon, dipping it into ice cream before pulling it to her mouth. “Sorry. You were saying?”

I lean my hands back, “I felt like it was the first time all over again.”

“Like no time had passed?”

I pull a face, “It’s so stupid.”

She raises her eyebrows, giving her head a small tilt. “Just a little.”

I scoff, “Kay, sorry if I thought this was a safe space.”

“It is! It is. It's just funny to hear that is all. But I get it, trust me. Although it’s been eleven years.”

“Don’t rub it in! I know. But besides that, seeing him was so unreal. Unlike the others, he just seemed…the same. I don’t know. Should I see Namjoon tomorrow?” I ask, grabbing the spoon from her hand to have a bite.

“Well, what I’m hearing is you asking if you should see Yoongi tomorrow.” She purses her lips.

I nod sheepishly. “Maybe I am.”

“Kanako, can I be serious with you? For just a moment.” She stops and places her hands on my shoulders. I hold the spoon in my hand nervously, looking at her serious expression. “Sure.” I’m not. Keiko’s brutal honesty is never something to be ignored.

“As much as I love to encourage your bad decisions, I have to draw a line. Because I love you, and because I think you know this too…don’t try to stir things back up with him.”

I pout, “That wasn’t exactly my intention-”

“I know. But at your core, you’re a romantic. A lifelong monogamist, as much as you don’t like to admit it. You haven’t been in a real relationship in eleven years, and that makes me worry for you. And your vagina.”

“You know I’ve been trying to open up more!”

“Yes babe, but after eleven years? You couldn’t have been waiting for him, were you?”

She keeps emphasizing eleven years which doesn’t make me feel good. I know it’s sort of something that’s been left unsaid, my lack of relationships. But I’ve played it off as not needing a man, being too focused on my work. I’m just a workaholic, it’s fine. Even though that isn’t necessarily true. I love my free time. I love having free time. I knew one day I’d gain the strength to start something up with someone else, I was just waiting. Yeah, waiting.

“No! I mean not really. I just haven’t…felt that spark with anyone else.”

“Spark. Right.” She squints suspiciously.

“It’s true!” I gasp. It isn’t.

I settle down and play with the hem of my sweater, “Don’t act like I haven’t moved on.”

She cooes, “Oh, Koko. I know you have. I just think seeing him was hard for you. It brought up stuff, didn’t it?”

That’s definitely a word for it. Stuff. If stuff means feelings, yes. Feelings I can’t quite figure out. It’s not like I want to seduce him out of his relationship, but a part of me is so hungry to know him again. To know what he’s been up to, if he still likes his coffee the same, if his love for me hasn’t faltered. It hurts me so much to think that mine hasn’t. Haneul was never my first love, Yoongi was. What I felt for Yoongi was deeper, something I didn’t and couldn’t understand at eighteen.

What I had with Hanuel was a need to be seen, validated. There wasn’t any depth besides the trauma I got out of it. That’s a black hole I’ve gotten out of. With stories to tell and scars to hide, but It’s gone. Thank God.

“Yeah…it did.”

She pulls me in for an embrace, kissing my forehead. “Do what you want, I love you. He’s just…obviously with someone new. I don’t want you to get hurt. But you should see Namjoon. And maybe try to fix things with Jungkook. That’ll make you feel better.”

I nod into her shirt, “Yeah, it will.”

She pulls herself back from the embrace, seemingly confused. “It kind of surprises me that your feelings are so strong for him…and yet you guys never had sex.”

“Trust me, that took me months to get over.”

JULY 10TH, 2023, 6:00PM

I move the hair in front of my face and adjust my soft pink top before I enter the rather expensive restaurant Namjoon had invited me to. This is definitely not a place we would’ve come to back then. Even I have never been here before.

There’s a few moments before I’m met with a hostess, “Kanako?” She asks and I nod, gripping the handle of my purse tighter. My hands are growing clammier, embarrassingly enough. Namjoon asked if he could invite some of the other members that were here as well, and I accepted warily. I knew I’d easily get overwhelmed by seeing most of them again, but I didn’t know when I’d have another chance to. Seeing as they’re all busy and for the first time in eleven years I’m taking a leap of faith.

I don’t know when I’d have this courage again. Especially if it means Yoongi might be there.

She leads me to a seated area covered by a black curtain. Her hand delicately brushes it open for me, revealing the four familiar men. For some reason I expected something more dramatic, more tragic. I have pessimism on the brain, but can you blame me? It’s my easiest coping mechanism. My most self-destructive one. A common theme lately.

She gives me leeway to enter and I respond to her with a quick thanks before entering the small room. The men all stand quickly but seem to be caught, saying nothing. Their eyes dart to each other for a quick minute before Jimin smiles, “You look great.” Unexpected, but I’ll take it.

They all look great too, all so mature and aged. I could take notes. But I think they’d be pricey notes.

It feels like I’m standing in front of strangers in a sense, eleven years taking off memories from me little by little. But I still remember a lot. Even with Jimin’s cadence in his voice, it’s so different. It’s softer. More gentle, like I’m a new friend. New friend.

“Please, sit.” Namjoon insists and I do so, sitting next to him which seems like the safest bet. I place my purse down beside me and shuffle in my seat, “Thanks for…inviting me. It’s great seeing you all again.” I say, trying so hard not to cringe with my words. Just like last night, it feels like anything I say doesn’t amount to how big this situation is.

We used to be all so close. I knew them. They called me their sister at some point.

“You too. Sorry Taehyung couldn’t make it. He’s busy and all that.” Namjoon chuckles, planting his elbows on the table. Jungkook sits right in front of me, not speaking a word. His eyes stay looking down at the table, sometimes to Jimin.

I don’t know whether to look at them or not, it all feels like the wrong move. What if they don’t like who I am now? The way I dress, speak, move. I want them to recognize me. I’m almost thirty, why do I care so much about what they think of me?

“We went ahead and ordered meat and other side stuff. You like fish cakes right? And beer? If not, I could get you something else.” Namjoon asks.

“N-No, that’s all fine. Thank you…”

More silence.

“I got spicy cucumber salad for you. I know how much you liked it then.” Jungkook says between the echoing quiet. Then.

“Oh yeah, I still do. And I still like-”

“Pickled radish.” Yoongi whispers, fiddling with his hands. They remember. He remembers.

I respond with a soft laugh, “Right.”

He smiles too, looking up at me. One day I’ll stop feeling whatever this is I feel for Min Yoongi, but as long as he stays just like this, I don’t think that will happen any time soon. There’s a delicate fluttering in my stomach as we keep eye contact with each other, like it’s all that time ago. I would call myself delusional, crazy, everything that means that I’m looking too much into it. But if I could print this moment on paper, you’d believe me.

“So you guys are on a hiatus? How has that been?” I question genuinely. Jimin totters in his seat, making a ‘tsk’ sound with his mouth. It reminds me of Hoseok. I wish they were all here, but I’m glad I at least have this.

“Taking a break has been great for most of us, but I’m still working on music and whatnot. So is Jungkook, but we definitely have more free time than we did a year ago. We wouldn’t have been able to go on a dinner like this if it were, say, 2021.” He says honestly. The boys nod in agreement.

“Really?” I raise my brows in shock.

“Yeah, we were robots for like, six years straight. Non-stop working. What about you?” Jimin tilts his head.

“Yeah, Kanako. We’re- I am- very curious about what you’ve been doing. You went to college when you left, didn’t you?” Namjoon says it as if it isn’t a sore topic. It is for me, and with the way Yoongi shut down privately it seems like it was the same for them too.

I play with the glass of water in front of me, “Yeah I did. I graduated with a degree in communications, so I work with my friend Keiko at the New York Times as an editor. She was doing an internship there and…managed to get us both in, I guess. I’m pretty lucky.” I admit.

Jimin’s mouth is agape, “Kanako, that's seriously impressive.”

I scoff, “Oh shush, nothing like being a global star. Mr. Nominated For A Grammy.”

Namjoon shakes his head playfully, “There’s the Kanako I remember.”

I smile to myself as I hear Namjoon’s comment, “But thanks Jimin.” I say.

Before he can reply a waiter comes in with multiple servings of all kinds of food. He places the raw meat besides the grill, following with the various side dishes all neatly surrounding the table. It’s so much food, something we definitely never did back then.

Once everything is settled, Yoongi grabs the tongs, pointing them at me.

“Make sure to eat a lot. It’s on us.”

JULY 10TH, 2023, 7:47PM

We’ve grown into a more comfortable banter as we all eat. Talking about celebrities they’ve met, encounters with fans in bathrooms, and something Namjoon wants to say to me.

He chews on the kimchi that sits in his mouth, covering it with his hand. “I mean it’s not that big of a deal, but now that you’re here I just wanted to tell you because it sort of is a big thing.”

“Go ahead Joon.” I assure him.

He swallows, “Well- uh. I’m bisexual. And I’m dating a guy. He’s cool.”

I widen my eyes. Definitely didn’t see that coming. I mean, kind of. He’s always been a very open-minded person, but I never heard him talk about any sort of crush. Besides that one time in a club, but I never assumed he was straight. Or anyone else, for that matter. I’m happy for him though. I know it must be hard for them to maintain relationships during all this chaos, but the dust has settled. And he seems happy, which is most important.

“Oh sweet.” I reply nonchalantly, hoping to not scare him away.

“That’s it? Sweet?” He chuckles, turning over the cooking bulgogi.

“Scratch that, I’m glad you found someone. That makes me happy you could do that in the midst of, you know everything that’s been going on for you. Where’d you meet?” I reply.

He sighs, “Mutual friends. It was hard to connect with other guys during the, you know, spotlight. I’m still not out obviously, but he’s really okay with it. We go to art galleries and dinners and such. It’s pretty serious.”

I grin as I sip my beer, “Is he as smart as you?”

“He tries to keep up.” Namjoon replies with a smirk.

Jimin perks his head up, “What about you Kanako? Anyone in your life?”

I gulp. It takes everything in me to not look at Yoongi. I hope the small beat after he asked the question isn’t obvious. I look down to my fish cake, “Not really.”

“Has there ever been? It’s been eleven years, you know.” He says. Ugh.

“You sound just like Keiko.” I mumble.

Namjoon tilts his head, “Are you and Keiko…”

I shake my head quickly, “No. Nope.” I respond to him, turning to Jimin. “Uh- some guys here and there but nothing ever serious. I’m pretty focused on my work. What about you, Jiminie?” I attempt to curb the conversation from myself. Trying to not make it obvious I’m hiding a deep, dirty secret that’s sitting across from me.

There’s an abrupt laughter that bounces off the table. I look around, confused. “What am I missing?” I say.

Jungkook laughs, “Jimin is the opposite of a monogamist.”

Jimin’s face washes over with an obvious scarlet, “I like to have fun, that’s all.”

I giggle and lean back in my seat, “Ahhh, I see.”

That was an unsurprising answer from him. And I’m sure with the fame there’s even more options for a guy like him. “Is it limited to just women?” I ask.

Jimin gasps, “Why does everyone ask that!”

Namjoon laughs hard, holding his stomach in the process. “Kanako is asking the real questions.” He chokes out whilst wiping tears from his eyes.

“But to answer your question, definitely not.” Jimin gives a cheeky look to me as he responds. It’s clear he’s growing more buzzed by the minute. I assume that night at the club sparked something in him. It’s fun, for now.

This news is all so raw to me but it’s so fluid. The aging only made the conversations better, more comfortable. There’s less hesitation and more openness. There’s still a silence in Yoongi’s corner, reminding me of how he was when I first met him. Shy. But the topic of conversation I know is something he doesn’t want to contribute to. Not after the awkward encounter I had with his supposed beau. His young, annoying beau.

“And you, Jungkook?” I ask.

Jimin pats the young boy on the arm, “Still afraid of women. But I think he was just having a hard time moving on from-”

“Shut up.” Jungkook is quick to quiet the tipsy man down. There is an obvious glow to Jimin’s cheeks as time passes, and I don’t remember how many glasses of beer he’s had if that tells you anything. His mouth is like a loose cannon. Things don’t feel great. The table turns quiet again. Something else I’m missing. Jimin shrugs.

“Let’s just say Yoongi isn’t the only one still hung up on you.” He mutters under his breath, taking a big gulp of his beer. What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

“Jimin, really?” Namjoon looks at him in disbelief. Jungkook is also shocked, holding a hand up as if he’s stopped in his tracks. “I can’t believe you said that.” The young boy whispers.

Jimin tries to reach for Jungkook, slurring a small ‘I’msorry’ before Jungkook slides out of his seat to walk out of the room. Jimin follows the young boy in hopes to apologize. All I feel is second-hand embarrassment, confusion, and heaps of awkwardness. Yoongi sets down his chopsticks in a disappointed manner, exhaling loudly.

He looks at me for the second time today, “Don’t pay attention to him. He’s grown to be a messy drunk.” He says.

I nod and hang my head politely, not wanting to add fuel to the fire. But it might be too late for that, because before I can think I’m jolting my head back up in question.

“What did he mean, not the only one?” I ask, looking at the two men.

Namjoon bites his lip, “Not sure if that’s our place to say.”

But what does it mean? Is Yoongi still hung up on me? Is Jungkook? I didn’t think he ever felt that way towards me, he called me his sister for god's sake. Was it a cover-up? Did feelings develop over time? How did I not know? How did I not expect this? This gives everything a new meaning that I do not want.

I don’t want any of this. “I’m so sorry.” I whisper as I pick at my rice.

“It’s to be expected.” Yoongi responds, seriously.

His tone is indistinct which causes me to be a bit bewildered, “What is that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs apathetically, “Everything was…never concluded properly. You left things sort of a mess after you left.”

I scoff and cross my arms, blatantly offended. “A mess?”

Namjoon attempts to break up the rising tension, “Guys let’s not-”

But Yoongi has intentions. Everything is coming to the surface, I know it. I hear the words flow from Yoongi’s mouth like he’s rehearsed them. Like he’s always known what he was going to say, eleven years later.

“We loved you, and you left. You can’t expect us to not have feelings about it.”

We loved you. The same knife digs into me as I hear him.

“I’m not expecting anything. It’s just been-”

“Eleven years? Yeah, we know.” He laughs sarcastically. He always knows what I’m going to say next. In this moment I wish he knew nothing about me.

There’s a bubbling frustration within me that grows to its peak, “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I loved you all too, okay?” My words begin to adhere to him, unbeknownst to me. It’s coming out. “I spent days and nights thinking about you. I wanted to come back, I wanted to call. But it would make- it would’ve made moving on so much harder.”

“Why did you want to?”

“Want to what?”

Namjoon places a hand on my shoulder to cool me down but I’m an unstoppable forest fire, trees and wildlife burning down in front of their eyes. They’ve watched me crumble so many times it’s almost unbelievable it’s happening all over again. Some things really don’t ever change.

“Move on, Kanako? Why!” Yoongi shouts.

I sit up from my seat, planting my hands on the table angrily, “Because I loved you! I had just started to and I knew I had to stop if I was ever going to heal! Don’t you get that? I was in an abusive relationship at eighteen years old, I didn’t even know half of the things that happened to me really did happen! I coped the best way I could, so fuck you for blaming eighteen year old me!” I breathe heavily after I finish. The bowl of rice has toppled over all over my feet but I’m too angry to notice. This is what I needed to say after all these years. This is my honest truth. I’ve freed myself of the guilt I’ve held for all these years.

Yoongi stays quiet, his gaze on mine as I stay above him. Namjoon looks at me too, aghast. I feel relieved but so big at the same time. Like a monster.

“Kanako…” Yoongi whispers. “I know, I-I’m sorry. That was…” His voice trails off.

I feel tears trickling down my face and wipe them quickly, slumping back down on the seat. Instead of running away, I stay. This time I will stay.

JULY 10TH, 2023, 9:00PM

Yoongi ended up paying for dinner, even with how much of a slight disaster it turned out to be. We ended up continuing talking, rather casually, after our argument. It was the best I could do without leaving again. I wanted to stay there and fix things. But it was better to ignore it.

Jungkook and Jimin stand outside, clearly done with a deep talk. Jungkook is smoking once again. I feel like I should say something about it, maybe even a joke. But I’m not sure if that’s my place anymore. Was it ever?

“Hey guys. Kanako. Sorry about that.” Jimin apologizes weakly. It’s obvious he’s sobered up a bit from the last time I saw him, but even under the street lights I can see he has a long way to go.

“Don’t worry about it.” I promise him. Jungkook throws down his cigarette like he’s done it a million times before. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and walks over to me, eyeing the sky. His familiar unwillingness for eye-contact is more obvious than ever.

“Hi Jungkook.” I say as he approaches me.

He looks over to the boys behind me, hesitant to speak. “I understand now. I can’t imagine at that age having to go through what you did.” He confesses. He pulls me in for a random but pleasant hug. His body is much more solid than I remember, not as easy to hold, but his scent has stayed the same. How is that even possible?

I accept the embrace and wrap my arms around him tightly, having to hold back tears. This feels so nice. I missed this. I wasted years longing for it again. There’s still an unanswered question of what exactly Jimin meant, but I let it slide. I let my mind clear completely to enjoy the present.

“I missed you so much Jungkook.” I muffle into his chest. My eyes water.

“Stay with me tonight. W-With us. Like old times.” He whispers as his head sits on top of mine.

My body is lit like a furnace. It’s comforting this time, not intense. They can read my mind so easily. I want to, I have to. For one night before they leave, I will.

“Okay.”

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a/n: I know nothing about grown up jobs or how they work!!! keep that in mind dear god!!!

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