#I keep joking to my friend like hey I’ll let you know when I get fired

[capuccinodoll]

Chapter summary: The journey from Dallas to Austin is tense but tolerable, as you and Frankie do your best to ignore the mutual disdain simmering between you. But everything derails when a chance encounter with Harry—your ex—and his fiancée pushes you to tell a spur-of-the-moment lie. Frankie’s reaction makes it clear he’s not on board. WC: 14.3k

A/N: Okay, here's my new baby! And I fucking love it! I hope you enjoy this story as much as I've been enjoying writing it. Also, just a heads-up: I’ve taken some creative liberties with the characters. While this story is inspired by the ones in Triple Frontier, it barely follows the events of the movie, and the characters themselves aren’t portrayed exactly as they are in the film. PS: I’d love to hear your thoughts—your feedback means so much to me! Knowing what you think truly motivates me to keep going. So don't hesitate and let me know <3 Also, if you want to be on the tag list, let me know. And don't forget to follow capuccinodollupdates for notifs :)

When Santiago’s message arrived, you read it three times, as if repetition might change the words or soften their impact.

[Santi]: Hey bubs, mornin. I’m really sorry but I won’t be able to come get you. I’ll meet you at home later tho. Frankie will pick you up, same time as planned, don’t worry:)

The words seemed to pulse faintly on the screen, a quiet disruption of the neat plan you’d constructed in your head.

Frankie. He wasn’t your first choice—or your second, or third. If you were honest, he didn’t even make the list.

That morning had started with a sense of calm, a kind of orderly anticipation. The steady hum of the fan in the corner of Emma’s room, the cool sting of the shower water, the first sip of coffee, sweet and bitter all at once—it all felt like the clean slate of a well-prepared day. You’d zipped your suitcase shut with a satisfying finality, placed your carry-on by the door. Nothing left to chance.

The plan was simple: you’d take the bus. Predictable, unremarkable. But Santiago had insisted earlier that week, his voice crackling through the phone with a kind of rare, unguarded enthusiasm.

“We can stop for lunch, you know? Like we used to do with dad. Maybe even take a detour if we find somethin' cool,” he’d said, his tone warm, almost playful.

You’d been leaning against Emma’s kitchen counter at the time, a glass of wine in one hand, a cube of cheese in the other, and your phone between your cheek and your shoulder. Emma raised an eyebrow from across the room, silently prompting you to explain.

“Everything okay with Yovanna?” you teased, your voice carrying just enough edge to feel like a joke, even though it wasn’t entirely one. “Or is this an excuse to run away for the day?”

“Fuck you,” he laughed, the kind of laugh that came easily between you two. “I just want to spend time with you. It’s been ages since we really caught up. I miss you like hell.”

That stopped you. He wasn’t wrong—months had passed since the two of you had talked properly, beyond the surface-level exchanges over meals or texts.

“Okay,” you’d said, your voice softer than before, though you avoided looking at Emma. “I miss you too. I’ll wait for you then.”

And now, this. No Santiago, no shared lunch or detours. Just Frankie, an unwelcome rewrite of the day you thought you had mapped out so clearly.

You sat back against the bed frame, rereading the message one last time. Frankie will pick you up. Frankie will pick you up. Frankie. Frankie. Fucking Frankie. Now the plan had unraveled, and the disappointment felt sharper than you wanted to admit.

You let the phone fall to the bed beside you, the screen dimming as it landed.

Emma lay stretched out next to you, her head tilted toward the TV, where an episode of Friends played on low volume. It was one of those episodes you both knew by heart, the kind you could recite without effort. The one where everybody finds out. The blue light from the screen washed over her face, softening her features, making her eyes look brighter than they really were. Without looking away, she reached out and hooked her arm around yours, a quiet gesture that felt like home. She’d done the same thing when you were teenagers, sharing the lumpy couch in your parents’ living room, giggling over something trivial while your mom cooked dinner in the next room.

“What happened?” she murmured, her voice soft but curious, as if she could already sense the shift in your mood. The laugh track bubbled in the background, filling the space between her words.

“Santi’s not coming,” you said, glancing at the TV without really seeing it. “He sent Frankie.”

You felt a pang, not just from the change in plans but from the weight of the goodbye looming in the background. You’d learned to carry that feeling since Emma moved out of Austin—this persistent ache, like a thread pulling tighter with every visit that ended. On most days, it faded into the background. But today, it stuck to you, clinging like a damp sock you couldn’t quite shake off.

“That Frankie?” 

“I doubt he knows any others.”

“How convenient,” she said, her voice low with mockery, though her arm squeezed yours gently. “Well, call me when you get there. And try to be nice to him, if you can manage it.”

Emma turned her head slightly, just enough to glance at you out of the corner of her eye. “And don’t take too long to come back and visit me, okay?” 

“You could always visit Austin, you know."

“It’s more fun if you come here. You get to be a tourist,” she said, with that breezy logic she always used to disarm you. “I already know Austin. That’s not so exciting.”

You snorted, more out of habit than disagreement. She wasn’t wrong. Emma rarely was.

The rest of the evening passed in near silence, broken only by the low murmur of the television. First, another episode of Friends, then one of The Nanny. The rhythm of the shows was familiar, the kind of easy, forgettable comfort that didn’t require much from you. At some point, Emma shifted closer, resting her head on your shoulder. Her breathing slowed, deepened, a steady rise and fall that seemed to sync with your own. She didn’t say anything, didn’t need to. There was something about her presence, her weight against you, that felt like a reminder—you were understood here, even when you didn’t have the words to explain yourself. She wasn't just your best friend, she was your sister.

The sharp blare of a car horn shattered the calm, breaking through the evening like the crack of distant thunder. You flinched, your body instinctively tensing, the warm cocoon of the moment dissolving in an instant. Emma didn’t stir much, her eyes still closed, her arm still draped over yours. You nudged her gently, tapping her arm until she groaned softly and sat up, squinting against the glow of the TV.

“I think he’s here,” you said, your voice low but cutting through the quiet.

Emma stretched in one graceful motion, her arms arching overhead before she bent down to grab the bright lavender Crocs she kept by the bed. The shoes, adorned with an assortment of decorative pins—a blue flower, a miniature coffee cup, and a small plastic dinosaur—were an oddly perfect reflection of her: delicate, energetic, and just the right amount of ridiculous, in the best way. 

“Come on, I’ll walk you out,” she said, her tone casual, but there was a softness to it, an unspoken understanding that made the impending goodbye feel heavier.

Outside, the heat clung to you immediately, the air thick and sticky, humming with the faint buzz of cicadas. Your gaze landed on the car parked in front of Emma’s house, and something in you tensed. It wasn’t Santi’s car, of course, and it wasn’t Santi standing there waiting.

Frankie was leaning against the hood, arms crossed, his whole posture radiating impatience. He looked as though he’d been sculpted there, his bored expression so exaggerated it almost felt theatrical. The heat shimmered in waves around him, but he didn’t seem to notice—or care. He wore a rumpled gray shirt that looked like it hadn’t been ironed in weeks and a pair of dark sunglasses, their reflective lenses hiding whatever was going on behind them. The cap was familiar, too—plain, worn, the same style you’d seen him wear before, though this time in a faded gray that matched his shirt.

For a fleeting, irrational moment, you thought maybe this was all a mistake. That Santi might suddenly appear, stepping out from behind the car or walking up the driveway with that easy laugh of his, telling you it had all been a joke. But the driveway remained empty, and Frankie, noticing you, straightened up with a kind of deliberate slowness.

He started walking toward you, each step measured, as if he were pacing himself for an obligation he didn’t particularly want to fulfill. His movements had the casual indifference of someone who would rather be anywhere else, but was too resigned to argue.

“Where’s Santi?” you asked as you approached, the question coming out sharper than you’d intended.

Frankie didn’t answer immediately. He simply closed the distance between you with deliberate, unhurried steps. Then, without a word, he grabbed the suitcase from your hand in one fluid motion. The gesture caught you off guard—not because he took it, but because of how mechanical it felt. He didn’t look at you, didn’t acknowledge you in any meaningful way. It was as though you were just an extension of the bag he was moving, an obstacle to be dealt with as quickly as possible.

“He couldn’t make it,” he said at last, his voice flat, almost dismissive.

He hauled the suitcase toward the trunk and tossed it in with a thud that seemed louder than it should’ve been. The sound echoed briefly, underscoring his lack of finesse. He slammed the trunk shut with a single decisive motion and turned back toward the driver’s seat, his body language broadcasting that he considered the interaction over.

“He didn’t tell me anything about it,” you said, your voice rising slightly, tinged with disbelief. You stayed rooted to the spot, your feet planted as if the weight of the confusion had sunk into the concrete beneath you.

Frankie paused, his hand on the car door.

“It was a last-minute thing.” 

Before you could respond—before you could even begin to untangle your frustration into something coherent—he opened the door, slid into the driver’s seat, and pulled it shut behind him with a force that made the air shudder.

You turned back toward the house. Emma was watching from the porch, her arms crossed loosely over her chest. Her expression hovered somewhere between curiosity and bewilderment, her head tilting slightly as you approached.

She hugged you tightly, holding on a beat longer than usual. When you pulled away, her eyes searched yours, silently asking questions you didn’t have answers for.

“I’ll call you when I get there,” you said, though you weren’t sure what the call would entail—whether you’d laugh about all this, or vent, or just let her voice fill the empty spaces.

Her lips twitched into a faint smile, one tinged with resignation.

“I love you so much,” you added, your voice quieter now. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“I always do. I love you too. Take care and call me as soon as you can."

She stepped back as you turned toward the car, your feet dragging slightly with each step.

Now, an hour and a half later, the car sped steadily toward Austin, the scenery blurring into a series of indistinct shapes. Frankie hadn’t said a word since you’d left Emma’s house, and the silence had settled in the car like a heavy fog, pressing down on you with every passing mile.

You’d considered speaking—several times, in fact—but every potential conversation starter you thought of seemed pointless. What was there to say to him? You barely knew each other, and what little you did know felt more like a series of grudges than shared history. The only things you had in common were your mutual love for Santi and, apparently, your mutual irritation with each other. Neither felt like enough to bridge the yawning gap between you.

You stared out the window, the dry, flat landscape sliding by in endless monotony, like a movie stripped of plot and color. Pale beige fields stretched into the horizon, broken only by the occasional cluster of power lines. The sameness of it all seemed to lull the world into a kind of dull, static hum.  

The only relief came from the music spilling softly from the car’s speakers—classic rock, its grainy tones unmistakable even at low volume. The sound was tethered to Frankie’s phone, resting in the cupholder beside him, the screen glowing faintly every so often with an incoming notification he didn’t bother to check. A Fleetwood Mac song began again, its familiar opening chords filling the silence for the third time since you’d left.  

You shifted in your seat, glancing at him from the corner of your eye before turning your attention back to the road ahead.

“Do you like this song?” 

“I think so.”

“It’s played three times already.”

“It’s a good song,” he said softly, his voice low enough to be mistaken for an afterthought. 

You turned back to the window, letting the conversation dissolve into the space between you. He hadn’t said it to be defensive—just matter-of-fact, like the song itself was reason enough. You folded your arms across your chest, the seatbelt digging slightly into your side.  

Then, your mind wandered back to Santi, to the message that had upended your day. What had he been thinking? Of all his friends, why send Frankie? The question rolled over in your head, each repetition more insistent than the last. Was it an oversight? A logistical decision made in haste, without considering how you’d feel about it? Or was it intentional? That idea sat uneasily with you, gnawing at the edge of your thoughts. He knew how strange things felt between you and Frankie. Hell, everyone knew. They’d all been there, witnessed it firsthand—the arguments, the uncomfortable silences, the way your personalities seemed to clash as naturally as oil and water.  

The possibility that Santi might’ve chosen Frankie on purpose—maybe even as some misguided attempt to force you into tolerating each other—bothered you more than you wanted to admit. You shifted again, suddenly restless, as the car hummed along the empty stretch of highway, the silence between you growing heavier despite the steady background of Fleetwood Mac.

Over the last few years, Frankie had been a fixture in your life, the way someone else’s shadow might be—not yours, but unavoidable. Being your brother’s best friend meant your paths crossed often enough, though you both seemed to approach these encounters with mutual disdain. You didn’t like him, and he didn’t bother pretending to like you. Disgust was the word that came to mind when you thought about how he looked at you. Not exaggerated or theatrical, just a cool, unflinching disgust, as though he found something about you fundamentally wrong. 

The last time you’d spoken more than a handful of clipped, perfunctory words to each other was in Santi’s kitchen a few years ago. That was the breaking point. The fight. It wasn’t dramatic, not really—no yelling, no slammed doors—but it was the kind of exchange that changed things irreversibly. After that, you decided you didn’t want to think about him, let alone look at him, ever again.

And that was the end of it. You stopped trying to explain. You'd come to accept that to Santi, Frankie was probably nothing like how you saw him. You weren't sure what it was about him that rubbed you the wrong way, but you knew that with your brother, Frankie surely couldn't be as unpleasant as he was with you. 

So, you ignored him. Every time you saw him, you made sure your gaze passed over him like he was just another fixture in the room. And he did the same. It was as though you were two people occupying the same space, but never truly sharing it.

Why on earth, then, had he agreed to come and pick you up?

The silence in the car stretched on, and you settled into the uncomfortable rhythm of it, letting it fill the space between you and him. Frankie’s eyes stayed fixed on the road, and his thumbs twitched restlessly over the steering wheel.

Finally, he broke the silence, but his words felt like a formality.

“We'll stop for lunch,” he said, his voice low, almost indifferent. His gaze flickered to you for a brief second, enough to make sure you had heard, before returning to the road. “I haven’t eaten anything all day. Do you mind?”

You were starting to feel the pangs of hunger yourself, but you didn’t let that soften your response. You couldn’t. 

“No,” you replied, your voice curt, colder than you intended.

Frankie nodded, the movement barely noticeable. He turned his attention back to the road, his expression unchanged, as though you hadn’t spoken at all. His calmness was maddening. 

For a moment, you considered breaking the silence again, saying something just to disrupt his steady composure. But then you thought better of it. There was still a long way to go, and the last thing you wanted was for this trip to feel even more suffocating than it already was. So you stayed silent, the weight of your irritation pressing down on you, knowing that with each mile, you were only getting closer to end of this torture.

Fifteen minutes later, the engine turned off  and you looked over at the driver's side, half-expecting Frankie to say something—anything—but he was already in motion. Before you could open your mouth, the door swung open, and he was out of the car, his body moving with an urgency that seemed to come from some invisible force, as though he were escaping the confines of the vehicle. For a moment, the empty passenger seat seemed to expand, making the car feel smaller, quieter. 

You stayed there a second longer, watching as Frankie made his way across the parking lot. His steps were steady, deliberate, almost too casual, as if walking away from you might somehow erase you from the moment entirely. He didn’t look back, didn’t pause to see if you were following. And honestly, you weren’t in any rush to do so. There was no reason to catch up with him. He clearly didn’t want you there, and you didn’t want to be near him either. This trip wasn’t about you; it was about doing your brother a favor.

The parking lot was modest, just enough space for the few cars scattered about. It wasn’t anything remarkable, just a typical lot for a small, unassuming restaurant. The faded lines barely marked the spots, and you counted five cars parked across the patch of asphalt. The windows of the restaurant were perfectly clean, and you could see people inside. A couple of families were chatting animatedly at their tables, and a few solitary diners were hunched over their food, their focus far from the simple meal in front of them.

With a sigh, you walked toward the entrance. Above the door, the sign Jimmy’s buzzed softly in red neon, its glow a little too bright for the evening light. Next to it, a yellow arrow with tiny, flickering bulbs pointed inside, inviting anyone who passed by to come in. "Eat here!" The sign seemed eager, almost enthusiastic in its attempt to catch attention.

You pushed open the door, the bell chiming brightly above your head as you stepped inside. The rush of cool air from the air conditioning met you instantly, a welcome contrast to the heat that still clung to your skin from the car. The coolness was almost too sharp, sending a slight shiver down your spine as you paused just inside the doorway. Your eyes took a moment to adjust to the softer light inside. The diner was small, but it had a cozy, familiar feel, with colorful walls and a few tables scattered around. The noise inside was a comfortable hum, punctuated by the occasional clink of silverware, low conversation and the music in the background.

It didn’t take long to spot him. Frankie was seated at the bar, absorbed in the menu in front of him. His posture was casual, but there was something about the way he held himself, his shoulders slightly hunched, that made it feel like he was a little too withdrawn, like he didn’t want to engage. 

You walked toward him slowly, the sound of your footsteps softened by the tiles beneath you. You were just about to sit next to him when he looked up, his gaze meeting yours briefly before returning to the menu. His voice was flat, almost bored as he spoke, as if the interaction was nothing more than a passing inconvenience.

“Go find a table,” he said, his tone neither rude nor warm.

You frowned, taking the menu from his hand without a word. His gaze didn’t follow you as he stood up, stretching slightly as he rose from the bar stool. There was something about his movements—relaxed, yet sharp—that made you feel like you weren’t really a part of whatever was going on. His shirt clung slightly to his back from the heat of the car, the evidence of sweat still visible on his skin, and you couldn't help but notice the fine hairs on his arms standing on end, a subtle sign of the sharp contrast between the stifling heat outside and the chill of the air-conditioned room.

“I’m goin' to the bathroom. Be back in a sec,” he added casually, his voice even, before disappearing down the narrow hallway to the right. No expectation of a response. No glance to see if you were still standing there, just a simple statement. He was gone before you could offer anything in reply.

You were left standing there, the laminated menu in your hands, a slight weariness creeping in.

With a sigh, you turned on your heels and began scanning the room for a table. There was still at least an hour and a half of travel left, plus however long you'd spend eating. Why hadn’t Santi given you a heads-up? You could’ve taken the bus or the train, something that didn’t involve sitting in a car with anyone but him. But no, that wasn’t even an option, apparently. 

You spotted an empty table near the back, next to the window, and as you walked toward it, the decor around you caught your eye. The place had a playful, nostalgic vibe, as if it were trying to channel the spirit of another time. Framed posters of Grease, Fame, Footloose, and Saturday Night Fever hung on the walls, adding to the feeling of a throwback to the ‘70s and ‘80s. It was all very upbeat, almost theatrical, like a movie set. The tables were red and white, and a jukebox stood in the corner.

You glanced at the posters, half wondering if the owner had lived through that era or just loved the aesthetic of it all. Either way, it gave the place a sense of warmth and a bit of character, a stark contrast to the outside. 

Suddenly, a voice cut through the quiet murmur of the restaurant, sharp and unexpected, and your name echoed in the air. You froze, the sound ricocheting in your chest, followed by a rush of emotions you didn’t want to acknowledge, let alone feel. You could feel the familiar tension ripple through your muscles, a mix of surprise, confusion, and something deeper you couldn’t quite place. Slowly, you turned to face him, every step feeling like it took an eternity.

“Harry,” you said, the name falling from your lips like it belonged to someone else, someone distant. A smile flickered across your face—perfectly timed and just the right shape, though it felt hollow, as fake as the kindness you were trying to project. Your lips tightened, a familiar mask of politeness slipping over your expression, one you wished you didn’t have to wear. “What... what are you doing here?”

His smile was instant and disarming, his surprise clear, and his happiness so genuine it made your chest tighten. For a moment, it erased the absurdity of seeing him here, of all places, in the middle of nowhere. The coincidence felt cruel, as if the universe was playing a cruel joke on you.

The last time you saw him, three months ago, it felt like a lifetime ago—a goodbye steeped in heartbreak. You’d clung to him, tears soaking his crisp white shirt as he whispered reassurances: “It’s okay. You’ll be okay. I care about you.” But the words he didn’t say cut deeper: he cared for you, but he loved her.  

It had been a casual fling, no strings attached—or so you told yourself. Then came the day he confessed: he was in love with Lisa, a friend you’d never met. They were getting married. His words, calm and rehearsed, felt like a gut punch, but his excitement betrayed him. He was happy. You weren’t.  

You tried to be strong, to tell him you were fine, even as you broke down. Because you loved him, and you couldn’t bear the thought of him with her.  

And now, here he was, smiling like nothing had happened, curiosity in his eyes—oblivious to the wreckage he’d left behind.  

In front of him, Lisa was sitting with a big bright smile. You’d seen her face before, her perfectly curated Instagram photos, her flawless smile that could have been lifted straight from a movie. But in person? She was even more striking, the kind of beauty that didn’t need filters or captions. The kind of beauty that made everything around her seem insignificant, that made you feel small just standing next to her. Her presence was magnetic, the sort of thing that pulled your gaze despite every instinct telling you to look away.

Suddenly, the air conditioning hit you like a blast of cold, sharp enough to make you flinch. But then again, maybe it wasn’t the air conditioning. Maybe it was just your body freezing in place, rigid with surprise and something much harder to define. You didn’t know how to respond. Harry was talking—his voice was there, filling the space, but the words barely reached you. They felt like distant echoes, the kind that might have meant something once but now were just noise, reverberating uselessly around you.

“What are you doing around here?” he asked, pulling you back from the tangle of thoughts you were trying so hard to keep at bay.

You blinked, trying to center yourself, but it was like you had forgotten how to breathe properly.

“We’re... I’m just passing through, heading back to Austin,” you said, your voice sounding too steady, too rehearsed, even to your own ears. Your heart was lodged somewhere near your throat, threatening to choke you if you said too much. “I went to visit Emma.”

“Ah, Emma. How is she? Is she still in Dallas?”

“Yep,” you answered, the word sharp and clipped, offering nothing more. 

The silence hung between you, thick and uncomfortable. You could feel it stretching, wrapping itself around your words, making them heavier than they needed to be. Finally, you exhaled, the air coming out in a slow, resigned sigh.

“What about you guys? What are you doing around here?”

You didn’t really want to know, not at all.

“Lisa’s grandparents live in Waco,” Harry said with that wide smile of his, the one that always made you feel like you were watching the world tilt on its axis. He looked at Lisa like she was the center of his universe, as if everything that mattered began and ended with her. “We went to take the invitation to them personally and I met the rest of the family while we were at it.”

You didn’t smile. You couldn’t. Your lips pulled tight, the gesture feeling almost painful, like your face wasn’t sure how to form the expression anymore. The words were there, though, just beneath the surface.

“Right, right.” You swallowed, forcing the words out despite how hollow they felt. “How cool. You must be so excited—a summer wedding, then?”

You’d known for weeks—September 6th. The invitation, with its sparkling gold lettering, had made your stomach churn. You buried it under junk mail, unable to face seeing him so happy, so certain of what he had.

But you couldn’t say that, could you? You couldn’t tell him that the mere thought of them together, of their future, felt like a knife to your chest. So you forced a smile, a tight, lifeless thing, and let the conversation carry on.

"That's right," Harry said, laughing as his gaze flickered to Lisa, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Even though we wanted to enjoy the early days of fall, Lisa wanted to get married around summer, mostly because of her parents. They got married during summer too."

Lisa laughed softly, the sound like a note held too long, then spoke, her voice low and warm.

"It's not just that," she said, her hand resting lightly on Harry's. You found yourself looking away, unable to hold the image of them together for too long. "Everything looks more beautiful during this season, doesn't it? Even the days last longer."

Her voice was thick with something you couldn't quite place—familiarity, maybe. Or maybe it was love, that unspoken thing that you couldn’t ignore, even if you wanted to. The way they fit together made everything else seem smaller, less important. And yet Harry’s eyes shifted to you, seeking something. Approval, maybe. He didn’t say it, but it was clear. His look said: Don’t disagree.

"That's true. Summer is beautiful," you replied, feeling the words slip out too easily, forced through your teeth. Your voice came out softer than you intended, and you felt Lisa’s smile hit you like a jolt. It was stunning—perfect in a way that seemed almost too much, like she’d been born to smile in that exact way. You hated her for it, just a little.

"We look forward to seeing you there," Harry said, breaking the moment, his words direct and heavy. "We haven't received your confirmation—you’re going, aren't you?"

How could he ask that, not see how unnatural this felt? But Harry wasn’t cruel—just unaware. You’d never told him you loved him, never made your feelings clear. To him, this was normal. He thought you’d be fine.

“I... um—” 

“Don’t worry about going alone,” he said, that same nonchalant tone that had once made you smile. "You always meet people at weddings."

Heat flooded your face, burning like a slap. The words stung, but his obliviousness made it worse. You wished the ground would swallow you whole—or anything to escape. Instead, you laughed—a thin, brittle sound that barely masked the pain.

"Ah, no, that’s not it," you lied, your voice trembling just enough for Harry to notice. "That's covered."

“Oh, is it?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow, his interest piqued. He leaned forward, a relieved smile crossing his face.

"Sure," you said, forcing a confidence into your tone that you didn’t feel. "I’ll... I’ll go with my boyfriend."

Harry's eyes widened a little, and then the smile appeared again—this one more genuine, more curious. He tapped the table, an excited gesture that made your stomach twist.

“You don’t say?” he said, his voice rising in pitch. “And who’s the lucky guy?”

You wanted to crumble. You wanted to say nothing, because the truth felt too big, too overwhelming, and there was no way to say it without everything falling apart. But you couldn't. You just couldn't.

As if by some celestial miracle, you saw Frankie emerge from the hallway, his attention absorbed by the screen of his phone, scrolling, unaware of anything around him. His timing was perfect, and relief washed over you, as if fate had sent him. He wasn’t supposed to be here, yet there he was—a lifeline in the chaos.  

For a moment, he seemed to glow, his familiar, worn cap catching the harsh lights like a crown. You’d never been so glad to see someone. Then his eyes met yours, and his expression shifted—confusion flickering as he took in your frantic stance, the mess of emotions written on your face.  

Before you could stop it, before you could make any sense of what was happening, a smile stretched across your face—too wide, too fast, like a reflex you hadn’t been prepared for. It was probably a little too sharp to be anything but forced, but you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t help anything.

"Frankie," you said, the words tumbling out with more enthusiasm than you intended. It sounded too bright, almost exaggerated, but there was no stopping it now. "This is Frankie... Frankie, my boyfriend.”

You weren’t sure what you were doing, but it didn’t matter—you needed to make something clear. Frankie tensed beside you, glancing your way, trying to read the situation. His eyes met yours, and you silently begged him: Help. Please.

For a moment, he studied you, his gaze flicking between you and the couple. Then, as if something clicked, his expression shifted to understanding. He realized what he had to do and adjusted instantly.

"Right," he finally said, his voice low, the smile on his face still a little unsure but polite. "I’m Frankie."

Harry extended his hand with a practiced smile, warm but a touch too bright. Frankie hesitated, his gaze shifting from Harry’s hand to your face, brow slightly furrowed as he tried to assess the situation—or his role in it.  

You stepped closer, tapping his waist lightly, a subtle signal to act. He blinked, refocusing, and finally took Harry’s hand, his grip firm and deliberate. But in his eyes, there was a flicker of discomfort—one only you noticed.

“Frankie,” Harry said, his voice carrying a weight of something too calm for the situation. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, I'm Harry.” Then, he nodded enthusiastically, dropping his hand back to the table. “And this is Lisa."

Lisa smiled, her gaze bright and almost blinding.

“Nice to meet ya, Frankie,” she said, her voice the epitome of warmth, her charm effortless, her presence just... perfect. Oh my God, just stop it!

Frankie finally turned his attention back to you, though it wasn’t immediately clear if he was still processing the social niceties or deciding how best to carry this conversation forward. His voice shifted slightly as he spoke again.

“Same here,” he said, his tone unfamiliar to you—something smoother, almost softer, like he was trying to convince himself as much as anyone else. 

He moved closer, just a bit too close, slipping his arm around your waist with ease, sending a flutter through your stomach. His hand rested lightly against your side, his palm warm at your back. You froze, unable to focus on anything but the pulse of his touch, the way he effortlessly played the boyfriend role.

It felt wrong, uncomfortable.

Confusion and relief mixed inside you, unsure if the relief came from the act itself or the distraction it provided from the situation.

"Well," Frankie broke the silence. "Sorry to interrupt, but we need to leave soon. I want to make sure this beautiful woman gets some food before we go—otherwise, she goes bad."

You blinked, momentarily taken aback by the way he phrased it. 

Harry chuckled, his easy laughter filling the space.

“Yeah, I believe you,” he said, his grin still wide but with a spark of curiosity. He shot a look at Lisa, then back at Frankie, narrowing his eyes just a touch. “That’s the main reason we stopped. Though I’ll admit,” he added, glancing down at the table with a mock grimace, “I was the one really starving.”

The awkwardness of the moment barely registered for Harry. He seemed to think everything was going smoothly, unaware of the small cracks in the facade that were threatening to show. Frankie, however, was more aware than anyone, and you could see it in his eyes—the way his face shifted from the casual smile to something more guarded, something more carefully neutral. 

Frankie gave a short, almost amused laugh, pulling his arm back from your waist with a light tap. His tone was polite, more deliberate than before.

“Yeah, I’m sure you can relate,” he said, a flicker of warmth in his eyes. “Keeping your lady happy, that's what it's all about, isn't it?” 

You tried to smile, but it came out thin, tight around the edges. Your legs became weak. 

Harry’s laugh was light. He buyed it.

Frankie straightened up slightly, offering his hand to Harry in that careful, calculated way that now seemed practiced, even though it hadn’t been moments ago. His movements were calculated, polite, but entirely different from the Frankie you knew. The way he was acting felt like an entirely unfamiliar version of him—Thank God.

“Okay, thanks for the chat, but we bett—” 

"Yeah, of course," Harry interrupted, still upbeat and completely oblivious to the tension. "It was nice meeting you, Frankie. Take care of her, alright? She's... well, you know. A special one."

Frankie’s smile stiffened, the edges barely moving as he gave a short nod. His eyes flicked to you for a fleeting second, his expression tight and controlled, though something was definitely off.

"I will, man," he replied, voice steady but carrying an underlying edge. "I’ve got her covered. Don’t worry. She’s in good hands."

“Bye, Harry,” you said, turning to him with a friendly but somewhat distant smile, your hand lifting in a wave that felt too casual for the weight of everything you hadn’t said. “And you too, Lisa. Good luck with the wedding!”

Lisa smiled warmly. “Thank you,” she replied, her voice smooth. “Let us know if you're coming."

“Yeah. Hope to see you at the wedding. You too, Frankie,” Harry said, just before you thought about starting to walk to the table at the back of the place.

Frankie looked confused, and looked at you for an answer, or for you to say something.

"Sure," you said, taking him by the arm, ready to leave. "We'll definitely be there!"

You moved in silence toward the booth, Frankie's hand resting at the small of your back, guiding you like an automatic reflex. The low hum of conversation in the restaurant seemed to fade as you both reached the table, and you were strangely relieved that the high backs of the seats shielded you from Harry’s view. 

He dropped into the seat across from you, his presence as loud and brash as ever, even without a word. When you looked at him, it struck you how quickly he'd reverted to the expression he always wore around you—furrowed brows, lips pressed into a thin, almost unnatural line. It wasn’t clear if it was annoyance, confusion, or just him being him.

“I’m so hungry,” you said, flipping through the laminated menu like it might hold the answers to something bigger than lunch. “I really want a burger, and some fries.”

He didn’t reply immediately, his stare heavy on you. Then:

“What the fuck was that?”

You sighed, closing the menu and flattening your hands on the table as if bracing yourself. His face was a familiar mix of wide eyes, creased forehead, and that particular grimace that always made you feel like you’d said something wrong.

You shrugged. “My ex.”

“Okay? And?”

“And that’s it. Nothing else.”

Frankie leaned back with a dramatic exhale, the leather of the booth creaking under him. He shook his head in disbelief, his jaw tightening.

“Since when am I your boyfriend?” he asked, his tone sharp with irritation. “Last time I checked, I was doing your brother a favor.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you said quickly, cheeks warming. You picked up the menu again, trying to will your face back to neutrality. “Thanks for playing along, anyway.”

He sighed—loud, pointed. You glanced up, and sure enough, he was staring at you, his fingers drumming a steady rhythm on the table. Not impatient, exactly. Calculated.

“You’re not going to tell me what the fuck that was?”

You ignored him, letting the embarrassment swirl hot in your stomach as you fixed your eyes on the menu. Burgers. Burgers. Burgers. Burgers. Fries. Onion rings, maybe.

“Hey,” he said sharply, snapping his fingers in front of your face.

You blinked, snapping your head up to look at him.

“Oh, are you talking to me?”

Frankie gave you a look so exaggerated you almost laughed, except you knew he wasn’t joking.

“Who else would I be talking to? You think I’m out here monologuing? Who are you, fucking De Niro?”

“Hey!” you snapped, slamming the menu down on the table. The sound echoed between you, a sharp punctuation that sent a ripple of air across his forehead, lifting the dark strands just slightly. “Don’t talk to me like that, Francisco. Who do you think you’re talking to? We’re not friends.”

He snorted, the sound sharp but oddly soft at the same time, pulling off his cap and placing it on the seat beside him. With a low groan, he ran a hand through his hair, fingers catching briefly in the strands. His gaze found yours again, his posture seemingly relaxed but betraying a subtle tension. You could see it in the way his shoulders didn’t quite settle, in the way his eyes didn’t blink as he studied you.

“I know, we’re not friends. But I just lied for you. Why? Who was that? And why are you acting so weird?”

Before you could answer, he straightened in his seat, leaning forward slightly. “No, wait. The real question is: why are you acting weirder than usual?”

You folded your arms, leaning back until you felt the booth press into your shoulders. Your gaze flicked to the front door, the thought of walking out taking root in your mind. Leaving felt easier—safer. Honestly, you’d rather trudge all the way back to Austin on foot, the heat and endless asphalt blistering your skin, than sit here and explain yourself to Frankie. He wouldn’t care. Worse, he might care just enough to make you regret opening your mouth.

When your eyes returned to him, though, his expression surprised you. Serious, yes. But not angry. He was watching you with an almost disarming calmness, like he’d decided he had all the time in the world to wait for your answer.

You sighed, the sound shaky as it escaped your chest.

“It’s my ex,” you said, barely above a murmur.

“Yes,” he said immediately. “Your ex. I got that part. And?”

“And his fiancée.”

“Aha,” he nodded slowly, like he was piecing something together, but his eyes didn’t leave yours. “Why did you lie to them?”

You swallowed hard, the pulse in your neck thudding too loudly in your ears.

“Because...” Your voice wavered, and you hated it. “Because... Um, he told me I might meet someone at the wedding.”

Frankie blinked, his confusion shifting into something closer to disbelief.

“What?”

“God,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as heat crept up your neck. Your hands dropped to your thighs, fingers curling into the fabric of your jeans. “We dated for four months, and he broke up with me to get engaged to her. Then he invited me to their wedding. When I said I’d go, he told me not to worry about showing up alone, because I’d probably meet someone there.”

Frankie’s mouth opened slightly, but no words came out, so you pressed on, a flush of anger sparking under your skin.

“So, I panicked,” you admitted, your voice sharpening. “I told him not to worry, that I’d bring my boyfriend. And then you showed up, and it just—it made sense in the moment, okay? That’s it.”

“It made sense to you to say I was your boyfriend?” he asked, his tone incredulous. “You couldn’t have said I was someone else? Made up something better?”

“No, it didn’t occur to me!” you hissed, your eyes widening as your voice rose, though you kept it just shy of shouting. “I panicked, okay? I’m sorry! What was I supposed to do?”

He stared at you for a moment, his face a mix of annoyance and bafflement, before leaning back again. You could see the wheels turning in his head, though whatever he was thinking, he wasn’t about to share it with you.

You sank deeper into your seat, glaring at the table like it might offer some kind of solace. But all you could feel was the mortifying heat of his gaze, still fixed firmly on you.

Frankie scratched his forehead, his fingers dragging slowly down to his chin, where they rested briefly before falling to the table. His expression was skeptical, as if he were trying to solve a particularly irritating puzzle.

“Okay,” he started, his voice even but edged with disbelief. “So, you dated this guy for three months—”

“Four months,” you corrected, your tone clipped.

“Right. Four months. And then he left you to get engaged?”

“Yeah.”

Frankie leaned back, his posture deceptively relaxed, but the sharpness in his eyes gave him away.

“You’re telling me he cheated on you, and you’re still planning to go to his fucking wedding? Are you out of your mind?”

He propped his chin on his left hand, elbow planted firmly on the table, and his gaze locked onto you. There was something in his expression that made your stomach twist—a combination of pity and incredulity that made you feel stupid, even if he hadn’t said the word outright.

“No, he didn’t cheat on me,” you replied, lowering your voice as you leaned forward slightly, not wanting anyone else to overhear. “We weren’t in a serious relationship. We were just... casually dating. He was always in love with her, but they couldn’t figure things out. I knew that. He told me.”

Frankie’s eyebrows lifted, his disbelief evident.

“He told you he was in love with another woman, and you still kept dating him?”

“No,” you shot back, frowning. “He told me after a while—around the time we broke up. I would never date someone who was in love with someone else.”

“But you were in love with him, weren’t you?”

There it was. That tone. The one that suggested Frankie thought he had you all figured out, as if your life and feelings were nothing more than a series of obvious moves on a chessboard he could read from across the room. He was so infuriatingly arrogant, so sure of himself.

You narrowed your eyes, but the involuntary twitch of your eyebrows betrayed you.

“I had feelings for him,” you admitted, your voice stiff with frustration.

Frankie tilted his head slightly, his lips quirking into a half-smile that made you want to smack him.

“Okay, let me make sure I’ve got this straight: this guy you casually dated for four months left you for another woman, got engaged, invited you to the wedding, and you, still hung up on him, agreed to go but invented an imaginary boyfriend so you wouldn’t have to show up alone. That about right?”

“I’m not in love with him,” you snapped, crossing your arms defensively and shaking your head.

“I don’t believe you."

“I don’t care what you believe."

“You want to know what I think?”

“Are you deaf?” you said, your lips pressing into a pout. “I just told you I don’t care.”

“I think you’re crazy for going to that wedding,” he said, leaning forward slightly. His voice dropped lower, as though he were sharing a secret, though his words carried no sympathy. “Do you want to torture yourself or something? Are you a masochist?”

The word slipped out like a dagger, his eyes narrowing as he studied your reaction, his face drawing closer, his voice almost a whisper.

You exhaled sharply, a mix of frustration and disbelief, biting your lower lip as you turned to look out the window. The distant hum of cars on the road outside felt like the only thing grounding you in the moment.

When you looked back at him, your voice was steadier, quieter.

“We’re friends. Things between us ended well. Why wouldn’t I go to his wedding?”

“So he broke your heart, and you’re still going to his wedding. Got it.” Frankie leaned back slightly as he said it, his tone deliberately even, but the words were sharp enough to make you flinch.

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, anger mixing with a deep, familiar embarrassment.

“Why the fuck do you care anyway? I already told you everything. Make fun of me all you want, but stop interrogating me and leave me alone.”

Frankie’s eyebrows lifted, his expression shifting into something maddeningly amused. A slow, sarcastic smile spread across his face, the kind that made your stomach twist in irritation.

“You got me involved in this, remember?” he said, his voice light, almost playful, which only made you angrier.

“It was just a little lie, that’s all.”

He let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking his head.

“Well, you didn’t think it through,” he said flatly, reaching across the table to grab the menu you’d abandoned. He straightened it out in front of him, his fingers smoothing the creases, and his eyes scanned the options with an air of exaggerated focus.

For a moment, you thought he might actually drop it. But of course, he didn’t.

“I wonder what he’ll think,” Frankie said suddenly, his tone casual but cutting, “when he sees you show up to the wedding alone.” His eyes stayed on the menu, but his words hung heavy in the air between you. “You should’ve come up with something else. Be more witty next time. Or, I don’t know, just don’t go to the wedding. That works too.”

Oh.

Your stomach churned at the thought, the weight of it pressing down on you as your mind raced through the possibilities. He was right, of course. What were you going to do? There was no way you could actually show up to the wedding now. You’d have to turn down the invitation at the last minute, make up some absurd excuse about why you couldn’t make it. Or maybe you wouldn’t say anything at all. Harry didn’t deserve an explanation. He wasn’t entitled to one.

The silence stretched between you, uncomfortable and loud. You didn’t answer him. What could you say? You felt silly, even ridiculous, sitting there, replaying the moment over and over in your mind. Of all the places in the world, did you really have to run into Harry there, in the middle of the road, with Frankie of all people?

None of this would’ve happened if Santiago had come to pick you up like he was supposed to. If he’d warned you he couldn’t make it, you would’ve saved yourself the humiliation. You wouldn’t have had to deal with Frankie’s smirking face or his infuriating commentary.

You stared at the table, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of it. God, why did everything have to turn into a mess? Why couldn’t things just go smoothly for once?

Frankie didn’t seem to notice—or care—that you hadn’t responded. He flipped a page of the menu, his expression unreadable now, as if he’d already moved on. But his words lingered, heavy and persistent, refusing to leave you alone.

With your appetite nearly nonexistent, you ordered a hamburger. It sat heavy in front of you, unappealing and far too big. You nibbled at it slowly, methodically, as if chewing it down might somehow help you swallow the rest of your humiliation. Across the table, Frankie made quick work of his own meal. He ate like someone who hadn’t seen food in days, the kind of eating that could make anyone watching feel small.

When he finished—barely ten minutes in—he leaned back in his chair and fixed you with a look. Not an outright stare, but enough of one that you could feel the weight of his impatience.

You didn’t care.

Instead, you turned your attention to the fries on your plate. Picking up each one with deliberate slowness, you savored them, your gaze drifting toward the window. Outside, the road stretched on endlessly, shimmering in the summer heat. Frankie sighed, low and exasperated, every few minutes, but to your surprise, he didn’t rush you.

When you finally stood to leave, Harry and Lisa were nowhere to be seen. Relief swept over you like cool water. If you’d had to exchange goodbyes with them, you were sure you’d lose every bite of food you’d managed to stomach.

You followed Frankie out to the car. His footsteps were quick and purposeful, the kind that demanded anyone trailing behind him keep up or risk being left behind. Once inside, the tight, enclosed space of the vehicle made your skin crawl. You clicked your seatbelt into place, but the snugness of the strap across your chest only added to your discomfort.

For a fleeting moment, you considered bolting. What if you just opened the door and threw yourself onto the hot, sticky asphalt? You’d roll a little, maybe scrape a knee, but at least you wouldn’t be here.

The car started with a low rumble, and Frankie turned up the music without a word. The sound wasn’t loud enough to drown out your thoughts, but it added a layer of noise, a distraction you didn’t ask for but didn’t resist either.

Your gaze shifted to the scenery blurring past the window. You rested your forehead against the cool glass, welcoming the breeze coming in through the lowered window. The air smelled faintly of gasoline and sun-warmed earth.

Frankie drove in silence, his hands steady on the wheel. His thumbs tapped along to the rhythm of the song playing faintly in the background—Rebel Yell by Billy Idol. You stared at the horizon, but your mind kept circling back to him.

He probably thought this whole situation was hilarious. You could see it in the way his eyebrows had lifted earlier, the way his lips twitched with incredulity every time he asked about Harry. He didn’t need to say it—he thought you were foolish, and maybe you were. You felt it, deep in your chest, that heavy, sinking shame that told you he was right to think so.

What the hell were you going to do?

Not going to the wedding wasn’t an option, not unless you wanted Harry to think you were still upset—or worse, that you still cared. But going? Going alone? That wasn’t an option either. You could bring someone else, maybe. But who?

Harry knew all your friends, and you didn’t have many male ones left who weren’t married, taken, or entirely inappropriate. Your brother’s friends? Sure, because that would work out great. Another one of Santiago’s buddies, strolling in on your arm. You ran through the list in your head. Will? No. Ben? Ben had a girlfriend.

It was hopeless. Every scenario felt more humiliating than the last.

God, you wished you could disappear. Or better yet, transform into something simple and unbothered. A worm, maybe. Worms didn’t have exes. They didn’t have weddings to dread.

You were spiraling, and it must have shown on your face because Frankie spoke up, his voice breaking through your chaotic thoughts.

“We’ll make a stop to fill up the tank, okay?” His tone was casual, distracted, as he turned left into the gas station lot.

“Sure,” you mumbled, barely lifting your head.

The car slowed to a stop, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. For a moment, the world outside felt steadier than the one inside your head.

You followed Frankie out of the car, your steps slower and more hesitant than his easy stride. He moved with the kind of casual confidence that seemed effortless, his shoulders relaxed and his head bobbing slightly as he hummed along to a song that had been playing a few miles back. The heat pressed down on you, thick and relentless, but he didn’t seem to notice.  

You lingered by the passenger side, arms folded across your chest. Your gaze flitted to the gas station shop, where shelves of snacks and cold drinks promised brief relief from the sweltering air. For a fleeting moment, you considered going inside—maybe grabbing a soda, or even just standing under the blast of an air conditioner. But then you thought about how much longer that would draw out this journey. The idea of extending your time in Frankie’s company, even by a minute, was enough to keep you rooted in place.  

So you waited, watching him in silence. He moved with the kind of efficiency you’d expect from someone used to things like this—mundane tasks, long drives, solitude. He didn’t rush, but he didn’t dawdle either. He glanced at you once as he replaced the nozzle, his expression unreadable, and then he climbed back into the car without a word.  

You followed suit, settling into your seat and pulling the door shut with a soft click.  

The miles ahead stretched out endlessly, yet the closer you got to Austin, the more your thoughts swirled. You cycled through possibilities, none of them good. Each option felt like another layer of embarrassment, a new way to showcase just how deeply you’d tangled yourself in this ridiculous situation.  

Eventually, your mind settled on one solution—a compromise of sorts, though it was far from ideal. You turned it over and over, weighing the risk against your pride. It felt heavy in your chest, but the closer you got to the city, the harder it became to ignore.  

Finally, as the familiar outline of Austin came into view, you forced yourself to speak.  

“Frankie,” you said, your voice tentative. You turned to look at him, your hands fidgeting nervously in your lap.  

He didn’t take his eyes off the road. “What?”  

“You know,” you began, cautiously, “Santi loves you a lot. You’re one of his best friends.”  

“I know.” 

“And you must love Santi too, right? I mean, you’d do anything for him.”  

At that, he glanced at you, his brows knitting together in confusion. The kindness in your voice must have thrown him off. But what really seemed to unnerve him was the faint, almost hesitant smile you were giving him.  

“Of course I love him,” he said slowly, his tone edged with suspicion. “What do you want?”  

You smiled a little wider, tilting your head. “Why do you think I want something?”  

“Because you’re smiling at me like that,” he shot back, returning his focus to the road. “And it’s creepy. Stop it. You’re scaring me.”  

“I just think,” you said carefully, “that it was really nice of you to go all the way to Dallas to pick me up. You didn’t have to, you know. I could’ve taken a bus or figured something out. But you did it anyway. You did me a favor today, and I just—”  

He cut you off with a dry laugh, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. A bead of sweat had formed there, glistening in the harsh afternoon light.

“If you want to call it that,” he muttered.  

“I mean it,” you insisted, leaning slightly toward him. “You didn’t have to do this. You could’ve said no, and I wouldn’t have blamed you. But you didn’t. Why?”  

His grip tightened on the wheel, and he shot you another quick, sidelong glance. His expression was guarded, like he wasn’t sure where this was going or if he wanted to know.

“I dunno,” he said finally, his tone clipped. “Because Santi asked me to. Because I had nothing else to do. Does it matter?”  

You pursed your lips, staring straight ahead as your thoughts spiraled. Why were you nervous? It wasn’t fear—definitely not fear of him. But still, there was something about Frankie that unsettled you, something sharp-edged and unyielding in the way he looked at you, like he could see more than you intended to show.

You forced yourself to steady your breathing, trying to reason with your own hesitation. It didn’t matter if he was intimidating. It didn’t matter what he thought of you.

“I think you should come to the wedding with me,” you blurted, the words tumbling out before you had the chance to second-guess them. As soon as they were out, you snapped your gaze away, focusing intently on a crack in the dashboard as though it held the secrets of the universe.

“What?” Frankie’s tone wasn’t as surprised as you’d expected—it was more amused, like he thought you’d just said something profoundly ridiculous.

“You should come to the wedding with me,” you repeated, forcing yourself to look at him this time.

He turned his head briefly, his eyes scanning your face, his expression unreadable. He seemed to be studying you, trying to decide whether you were joking or if you’d completely lost your mind. Finally, he clicked his tongue and shook his head.

“No,” he said flatly.

“Frankie.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“What’s the matter with you?” he asked, his voice rising slightly in exasperation. “Did you hit your head or something? Have you completely lost it?”

“No, just hear me out,” you said, raising a hand in what you hoped was a calming gesture. He shot you a wary glance but didn’t interrupt. “It’ll just be a favor—a small favor. I swear, if you do this for me, I’ll give you whatever you want. Wathever. Um, well—not whatever you want,” you corrected quickly. “Something reasonable. Something human. Please.”

Frankie snorted, a small, incredulous smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“You’re asking me to pretend to be your boyfriend at the wedding of a guy who dumped you? And you’re the sister of one of my best friends?” He shook his head, laughing quietly, like he couldn’t quite believe the words coming out of your mouth.

You sighed, the weight of your desperation pressing down on you.

“Santi will understand,” you argued, your tone bordering on pleading now. “He will. And it’s not like I’m asking for much—just come with me for a little while. We don’t even have to stay all night. Just long enough to…” You trailed off, realizing how pathetic you sounded. “Just long enough to make it believable.”

“Sorry, no,” Frankie said firmly, cutting you off. “I’m not getting dragged into your drama. And honestly? I think it’s stupid for you to go to that wedding in the first place. What are you trying to prove? My answer is no. Invite someone else.”

Frustration burned in your chest, rising up to your cheeks as his words landed. You could feel your face heating, both from embarrassment and anger.

“I can’t invite someone else,” you snapped. “You’re my boyfriend, remember? That’s what Harry thinks. He saw you. They saw you. And you did a pretty good job pretending to be nice to me today—can’t you do it one more time? Just this once?”

“No—”

“I’ll do anything you want,” you interrupted, your voice insistent. “I mean it. Any favor you can think of. Just name it.”

Frankie tilted his head, giving you a skeptical look.

“I’m not interested in any favors from you,” he said bluntly. “I don’t need anything.”

“Then do it for Santi,” you said, desperate now.

Frankie laughed at that, a low, disbelieving sound that only irritated you further.

“What does your brother have to do with any of this?”

“He’s your best friend,” you said, leaning toward him slightly, like you could will him to understand. “And you love him. And I’m his sister.”

“Uh-huh,” Frankie said, still smirking. “So?”

“So, doesn’t that mean you should help me?”

Frankie’s laugh grew louder, his shoulders shaking slightly as he glanced at you.

“You’re really reaching now, aren’t you?”

He turned to look at you then, the movement deliberate, his eyes narrowing slightly as they met yours. There was no malice there, but the firm set of his jaw told you all you needed to know—there was no convincing him. He understood the weight of your request, the quiet urgency stitched into each word, but it didn’t sway him.

“I’ve never asked you for help before,” you said, your voice softer now, almost brittle. “In fact, I’ve refused your help plenty of times. You said I was childish, remember? Well, fine. Maybe I’m being childish. But now I’m asking. Just this once.”

He shook his head slowly.

“It’s not the same thing,” he said, his voice low and steady, like he was trying to explain something simple to a child. “And you are being childish. Like I told you—no. The answer’s fucking no.”

You blinked hard, swallowing against the sting of rejection that settled heavy in your throat.

“Okay, fine,” you replied, the word clipped, your voice devoid of emotion. You turned your face away from him, angling it toward the window, not wanting him to see the look on your face—humiliation, maybe, or something closer to defeat. “Thank you.”

Frankie sighed, long and low, his hands flexing around the steering wheel as though he were squeezing the last ounce of patience from himself. The silence that followed was thick, broken only by the low hum of the car and the faint thrum of your pulse in your ears.

The rest of the drive passed without a single word exchanged. You stared out the window while Frankie focused intently on the road, his grip on the wheel tight and unyielding.

When the car finally pulled up in front of your house, the relief that washed over you was immediate and overwhelming. You reached for the door handle, your fingers trembling slightly, and stepped out into the humid air.

Frankie followed, moving around to the back of the car with the same mechanical precision he’d had all day. He popped the trunk and pulled out your suitcase, the effort seemingly as uninspired as when he’d loaded it hours ago.

He carried it to the door and set it down, his movements brisk, almost dismissive. You stood there, arms crossed, your body angled away from him, unwilling to meet his gaze.

“That’ll be all,” he said finally, his tone flat, his sunglasses obscuring his eyes on your face.

“Thank you,” you murmured, barely audible. “I’ll let Santi know I’m home.”

“Good.”

You didn’t look up as he turned back toward the car. You didn’t watch him leave, but you heard the sound of his door slamming shut, the low rumble of the engine as he drove off.

As the noise of his departure faded into the distance, you stayed rooted to the spot for a moment longer, the weight of the day pressing heavy on your shoulders. The heat prickled against your skin, and your head ached faintly, a dull reminder of how much you wanted this day to end.

You grabbed the handle of your suitcase, pulling it inside as the silence of the house enveloped you. You needed a shower—cold water to wash away the heat, the frustration, the embarrassment of it all. You needed to be alone, to let the day dissolve into nothingness behind a locked door.

Nearly two weeks slipped by, lost in the haze of your routines and the background hum of self-destructive thoughts.

What were you going to do? Probably nothing. You wouldn’t go. That was the easiest answer, and maybe the only one that made sense. What choice did you really have?

Still, Frankie’s words stuck in your head, gnawing at the edges of your resolve. What are you trying to prove? he’d asked. And after a few restless nights, staring at the ceiling and replaying the conversation, you realized he was right. You did want to prove something—to Harry, to yourself. You wanted him to see you happy, radiantly happy, at his wedding, as though it didn’t touch you at all. You wanted to seem light and unbothered, the kind of woman who could be at her ex’s wedding without flinching.

Except you did care. Of course, you cared. You hated that you cared. And you hated Harry for putting you in this position. How could you not be upset? The man had left you only a few months ago, and now he was marrying someone else. It wasn’t normal—none of it was. But you couldn’t shake the question gnawing at the back of your mind: why did you have to be the one left hurt?

And Frankie. You’d hated the way he’d looked at you when he said it; What are you trying to prove? What the hell were you trying to prove? like he couldn’t believe how foolish you were. If you hadn’t wanted to see him before, you definitely didn’t want to now. You resolved to talk to Santi, to tell him how uncomfortable the trip had been—without blaming Frankie, exactly—and to ask, kindly but firmly, that he warn you if Frankie would be around in the future.

It was humiliating, this whole situation. But you were sure about one thing: you never wanted to see Francisco Morales again.

The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving your kitchen in soft shadows as you stirred sugar into your coffee. Your gaze stayed fixed on your laptop, on Harry’s wedding invitation glowing on the screen. You’d read it so many times it felt permanently etched into your mind. But now, you’d decided. You weren’t going.

Your finger hovered over the trackpad, guiding the cursor to the “RSVP not attending” option. You paused, just for a second, your chest tightening. Then, before you could click, the doorbell rang, sharp and sudden, making you flinch.

Setting the mug down, you crossed to the window, peering out at the sidewalk. The sight below made your brows knit together. That couldn’t be right. Surely, you were imagining things.

You slipped on a pair of shoes and headed downstairs, opening the door without much thought.

“Francisco,” you said flatly, his name sitting awkwardly on your tongue. “What are you doing here? Did something happen with Santi?”

He dragged a hand over his mouth and shook his head, slow and deliberate.

“Can we talk?”

“About what?” Your tone was sharp, incredulous, your expression twisted like he’d just said something absurd.

He looked different somehow. Neater, you thought, though you hated yourself for noticing. His hair was slightly shorter, his beard more trimmed than usual.

He sighed, long and heavy, like he’d been forced into something he didn’t want to do. The sound made you laugh, a sharp, derisive snort. As if he had the right to be irritated. He’d shown up unannounced, at night, on your doorstep. If anyone should feel fed up, it was you.

“I’m going to help you,” he said finally, the words clipped and begrudging.

“With what?”

“With your ex.”

“What?” The confusion on your face deepened. “Harry?”

Frankie glanced to the side, as if checking for onlookers, before returning his gaze to you and nodding.

“Are there other exes you need help with?”

His question was thick with sarcasm, and you rolled your eyes in response.  

“Well, I don’t need your help anymore. But thanks,” you said quickly, your voice tight, as you began to push the door shut, inch by inch.  

Then his hand was on it, stopping you.  

“Wait,” he said, and this time his voice was different—tinged with something almost like desperation. “I’m serious.”  

You paused, narrowing your eyes at him through the gap.

“Why would you help me? You were very clear the other day,” you said, your tone sharp. “There’s no point in me going to the wedding.”  

“True, there’s no point,” he said, his gaze steady on yours. “But I know you well enough to know you’d love to go anyway. To show Harry how great you’re doing. Am I wrong?”  

“You’re wrong,” you shot back instantly, too quickly.  

Frankie sighed, the sound dragging out like he was trying to buy himself time. He glanced away for a second, then back at you, his expression suddenly resolute.  

“I’ll do whatever you want,” he said.  

You blinked at him, stunned into silence for a moment.

Then, with a raised brow, you asked, “Are you sick? Do you have a fever, Francisco?” You brought your hand up toward his forehead, but he flinched back dramatically before you could touch him.  

“What are you up to?” you asked, pulling the door open wider, suspicion laced in your tone.  

Frankie stood there, his posture stiff, his expression uncomfortable, like he was holding something in that might burst out if you pressed too hard.  

“May I come in?” he asked finally, his brown eyes soft and glinting, almost boyish.  

You hesitated, studying him for a few beats, letting the curiosity outweigh your disdain. Then you stepped back and opened the door fully, sealing the moment with the soft click of the latch behind him.  

Frankie climbed the stairs ahead of you, pausing at the top to wait as you opened the door to your apartment. He stepped inside, scanning the space.  

Your living room was warm, cozy but cluttered—books and mugs scattered across the coffee table and nearly every other available surface, interspersed with pens, pencils, and random odds and ends. Behind the sofa, the kitchen was visible, small but functional.  

You stood back, watching him take it all in. His expression was unreadable, but you imagined him silently judging the chaos. You almost wanted him to—let him think it was messy, or that your style was lacking. You didn’t care.

He didn’t belong there, in your space. Everything about him seemed incongruous with the world you’d built for yourself—his presence like a mismatched puzzle piece, forcibly shoved into place where it clearly didn’t fit. He was out of tune with your reality, standing in the warmth of your living room like he’d wandered in from an entirely different life.

You crossed to the kitchen island, where your half-drunk coffee sat waiting. Sliding onto the stool, you gestured at the one across from you.

“Have a seat.”

Frankie hesitated but eventually sat down, his movements stiff and reluctant, like he’d rather be anywhere else. His expression was tight, uncomfortable, like he was a vampire catching the faintest whiff of garlic in the air. His eyes landed immediately on your laptop, still glowing with Harry’s wedding invitation.

“I see you’re taking the wedding well,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You sighed audibly, refusing to take the bait.

“What do you want?”

As you waited for him to answer, you lifted your coffee to your lips. It had already cooled, the bitterness more pronounced now that it was lukewarm. Another thing he ruined for you, you thought bitterly. Your fucking coffee. 

“I’ve been thinking—”

“Congratulations,” you cut in, deadpan.

Frankie’s eyes flicked up to meet yours, dark and unamused. He didn’t even blink, just stared at you like he was waiting for you to get it out of your system. You shrugged, feigning indifference, though the weight of his gaze made your skin prickle.

“I’ve decided I’m going to the wedding with you,” he said finally.

You raised an eyebrow, lowering your mug to the counter.

“You decided? I thought you didn’t want to go with me.”

“I don’t,” he said. His fingers brushed the edge of your laptop, tracing a line along it.

“But you’re still here,” you said, your voice laced with suspicion.

Frankie exhaled slowly, leaning back slightly.

“I’ll help you… if you help me.”

“If I help you? With what? Don’t tell me you’re finally going to therapy,” you blurted out, a half-smile tugging at your lips.

Frankie straightened in his seat, his back stiffening like you’d just landed a verbal jab. For a moment, it looked like he might get up and leave—walk out and never look back. But instead, he stayed. He clenched his jaw, his eyes locking on yours with a determined, almost defiant look.

“I had dinner with my family tonight,” he began, his voice measured but tense. “With my mom and two of my sisters—”

“Is that why you look like that?” you interrupted, tilting your head.

“What?”

“Like you finally took a bath,” you said, your smirk widening.

Frankie exhaled sharply, his patience visibly fraying. “Can you shut up and listen to me for a second? I’ll be brief.”

You held up a hand as if to say, Fine, go on.

“They’re nice, my family, but they won’t leave me alone,” he said, his tone growing more frustrated. “All through dinner, they kept asking me these awkward questions, trying to convince me to go on these dates they’ve been setting up with their friends’ daughters or coworkers or whoever.”

Your smile widened, thoroughly amused. “Why? Why don’t you just go? Come to think of it—”

“No,” he cut you off, his voice sharp. “I already agreed once, and it was a disaster. I’m not doing it again. And I’m not about to get into that with you.”

“Good,” you said, leaning back slightly. “Because I’m not interested.”

Frankie sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair.

“Every time I see them—for over a year now—it’s the same thing. They won’t leave me alone. And look, I get it. They’re trying to be helpful. But I’ve had enough.”

Your curiosity piqued at that. “What happened a year ago? Why?”

Frankie’s face tightened, his upper lip curling slightly as if the question had caught him off guard.

He frowned, his brows drawing together, before finally muttering, “That doesn’t matter.”

The dodge only made you more curious, but you let it go, watching as he leaned forward slightly, his hands gripping the edge of the counter.

“The point is,” he continued, “I got fed up. So tonight, when they started in on me again, I told them to back off. That I didn’t need them setting me up on dates because… because I already have a girlfriend.”

His words hung in the air for a moment, their weight sinking in.

Oh.

“Oh,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Your eyebrows lifted just enough to show your surprise, though you tried to mask it.

Frankie shifted in his seat, his gaze falling to his hand resting on his knee. He shook his head slightly, a faint, almost imperceptible motion, as though he was trying to block out whatever he feared you might say next.  

“Funny,” you said, your voice light with mockery. “And your mother believed you?”  

When he looked up at you, his expression darkened. The amused smile playing on your lips ignited a flash of irritation in his eyes. You looked entirely too entertained by the situation, and it made him bristle.  

“Hardly,” he admitted, his tone sharp. “I don’t even think I convinced her. That’s why I need your help.”  

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly, as though creating space from whatever absurdity was about to come out of his mouth.

“You want me to pretend to be your girlfriend?”  

Frankie nodded once, curtly. “My mom’s birthday is in a few days. She’s turning sixty. She’s having this big nice party, and she told me she wants to meet my girlfriend then.”  

You crossed your arms, still trying to gauge whether or not this was some elaborate joke.

“When’s the party?”  

“Next Saturday.”  

Your eyebrows shot up, and your lips parted in disbelief.

“Francisco,” you grumbled, the word low and heavy. “That’s in three days.”  

“I know,” he muttered, matching your tone. His jaw tightened like he was already regretting the entire conversation.  

“And what did you tell her?” you demanded. “What did you say when she asked?”  

Frankie’s hand moved to the counter, his fingers drumming once before he let them still.

He hesitated, and then, in a resigned voice, said, “I told her yes. That I’d bring my girlfriend to her birthday.” He paused, meeting your gaze. “So she’d finally leave me alone.”  

You pushed back from the stool, standing in one swift, exasperated motion. Your hands flew to your hips, your whole body radiating irritation as you glared at him.  

“Oh, so you just assumed I’d help you, didn’t you?” you snapped, your voice loud in the otherwise quiet apartment. “What if I said no?”  

“I knew you wouldn’t say no,” Frankie said, meeting your anger with calm certainty.  

You let out an incredulous laugh, your head tilting back briefly before you fixed him with a sharp look.

“My God, what’s wrong with you? You don’t know what I’m thinking.”  

He didn’t flinch, though you could see his patience thinning in the slight twitch of his brow.

“I know you well enough to know you’ll say yes,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact, as though he were stating the obvious.  

The sheer audacity of it made you want to scream.

Frankie rose from his spot, his movements deliberate and quick. His footsteps echoed as he crossed the room, closing the space between you with purposeful strides. He stopped in front of you, standing taller, looking down at you with an intensity that was hard to ignore.  

“I know you want to go to the wedding,” he said, his voice firm. “I know you asked me to go with you, and you were persistent. And anyway, I think you owe me.”  

You blinked, incredulous, a small laugh escaping your lips despite yourself.

“I owe you?”  

Frankie’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as he took a small step closer.

“Don’t forget that the only reason you didn’t make a complete fool of yourself in front of Harry was because I decided to help you. I played along. If I’d wanted to, I could’ve exposed you in front of him and his fiancée. I could’ve made it worse.”  

“Thank you so much, Francisco, you're a fucking angel,” you spat, your tone thick with sarcasm, though the incredulous smile on your face betrayed how absurd it all felt. “What do you want me to do? Give you a hero of the century award?”  

Frankie’s expression didn’t waver; he was dead serious. “No. Come with me to my mom’s birthday and we’re even.”  

You froze for a moment, processing his words, the sheer audacity of them making your heart skip a beat. This was beyond ridiculous.  

"You're fucking crazy! Are you serious?" you demanded, unable to hide the disbelief in your voice. "It’s not even close. Harry’s my ex something, nothing more. And you’re asking me to go with you to a family event, full of your relatives, and you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend in front of all of them?”  

Frankie’s eyes flicked upwards, his impatience seeping into his expression. He rolled his eyes.  

“It’s not like we’re getting married,” he said, dismissive, his voice tinged with frustration. “You’re exaggerating. It’s not the first time I’ve taken a girlfriend to a family thing. What are you, fifteen?”  

You crossed your arms, giving him a skeptical look. “I don’t know, by my standards, introducing a girlfriend to your family seems like a pretty serious thing.”  

Frankie exhaled through his nose, clearly growing more insistent. He looked at you with unwavering intensity, his gaze now pointed, as if trying to break through the walls you were building between you and this ridiculous proposition.  

“I’ll take care of that,” he said, his voice steady but with a finality that made it clear he wasn’t backing down.

You stood there for a moment, the room stretching in a strange, suspended silence. You weighed his words in your mind, the absurdity of the situation tangled with a strange sense of reluctant curiosity.  

“Are you really going to accompany me to the wedding?” you asked, your voice quieter than you’d intended, the question slipping out like something you hadn’t meant to say aloud.  

Frankie nodded, a reassuring, almost teasing gesture, as though he was certain he had already won.

“I’ll help you catch the bouquet and everything,” he said, the corner of his mouth curling in a grin that almost made you want to punch him.  

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, your voice edged with irritation.  

“And yet, here you are, still going with me to that wedding.”  

Frustration rose in your chest, pooling in your throat like heat. You bit down hard on the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress the rush of emotion that threatened to spill over. How utterly insolent. How impossible.  

“Fine,” you finally spat out, barely containing the anger simmering beneath your words. “I’ll help you. But you’d better make my time count, Francisco.”  

He flashed a half-smile, the kind of smug, self-satisfied smirk that made your fingers itch to slap him. You wanted to say something else—something cutting, something that would make him regret this entire conversation. But you couldn’t.  

Instead, Frankie reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and tapped the screen a couple of times before handing it to you.

“Give me your number.”  

You took the phone from him with a swift, almost startled motion, your fingers brushing against his as you punched in your number. The action felt mechanical, as if you were moving through a script you didn’t want to follow. When you handed it back to him, you watched him tap the screen, adding you to his contacts with deliberate motions. His fingers moved quickly, but you couldn’t catch the name he gave you. It was probably something ridiculous, something that made you cringe even without knowing it.

He didn’t say anything, just slid the phone back into his pocket, and turned to head for the door. But before he reached it, he stopped and looked at you, his eyes meeting yours once more.  

“I’ll text you,” he said abruptly, almost as if it were a last-minute afterthought.  

And then, without waiting for a response, he opened the door and left, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the quiet stairs. You stood there, still staring at the empty doorway, the weight of his words hanging in the air long after he was gone.

With one click, you confirmed your attendance.

tags: @darkheartgatita @joelmillerisapunk @nandan11 @whirlwindrider29 @onlythehobi @diabaroxa @yellowbrickyeti (a few of the tags aren't working, idk why, fix it tumblr!!!!)

beautiful divider by @saradika-graphics 💗

[thatonesonicfanfictionwriter]

Hey I just recently came across your account and I just adore your stories. I especially loved the one about the sonic x single parent reader, which is part of an idea I had for an ask.

It would be after that and maybe they’re out and about when they encounter Shadow. I was thinking maybe the child would just be in awe of him and how he looked so cool. Shadow wouldn’t think much of it, but I can see him seeing how much it bothered Sonic and would just be so smug about it and just keep showing off to the kid just to get a rise out of Sonic.

As far as if there’s any interaction between Shadow and the reader I’ll leave up to you.

Anyway, hope you’re doing well and I can’t wait to see what else you write up! Thank you for all you’ve written and keep up the good work! 👍

“I’m Always Happy to Help, but Why Him?!”

(A continuation to “Always Happy To Help!”)

Pairing(s): Sonic the Hedgehog x Parent Reader, background Knuxadow (Knuckles x Shadow), Shadow the Hedgehog & [Child’s Name] (platonic)

Requested: Yes (by an anon).

Description: Having Shadow as your friend was always nice. But not when a certain blue-quilled partner got jealous.

Notes: I love me some smug Shadow so this’ll be fun! Hope you enjoy! And thanks for the positive comments! ^^

(Like last time, Reader and [Child’s Name] will be gender-neutral!)

(Not proof-read/beta-read.)

– – – – – – – – – – – –

It had been about a week since you had told Sonic about [Child’s Name]. But you hadn’t introduced them to anyone else. So you had planned to meet up with Shadow, and of course, Sonic wanted to come along, presumably to race with him if the time came.

Typical Sonic.

The four of you decided to meet up at Rose’s Bakery, where Amy got the four of you a table in the back, giving [Child’s Name] a coloring book and a cupcake.

“So…this is your kid?” Shadow asks.

“Yep! I figured, after Sonic, you should be the next to know since you’re one of my best friends,” you tell him. Shadow lets out a nod before taking a sip of his coffee.

“Baba! Lookie, lookie!” [Child’s Name] says, getting your attention. They hold up a drawing, it being a picture of you, Sonic, Amy, them, and Shadow. You let off a smile, ruffling their fur.

“Good job, baby,” you tell them. “I’ll put it on the fridge when we get home.”

“Yaaay!” [Child’s Name] cheers.

Shadow seems to let off a soft smile as well seeing himself in the picture.

“Is that Shadow the Hedgehog smiling I see?” Sonic asks, causing Shadow’s smile to go away, replaced with a scowl.

“Good going, Sonic, you ruined it,” you say with a joking grumble.

“Yeah, good job, Dada!” [Child’s Name] copies.

“Aw come on! I was just teasing!” Sonic says with a slight pout.

You let out a giggle before kissing Sonic on the nose, causing [Child’s Name] to pretend gag and causing Shadow to roll his eyes.

“So, how has Knuckles been treating you?” you ask Shadow.

Shadow’s face slightly turns green but he smiles fondly.

“He’s been treating me well,” Shadow states. “He’s been showing me around Angel Island. It’s…It’s been amazing.”

You return his smile.

“I’m really glad to hear that,” you tell him. “You deserve it after everything you two have been through.”

[Child’s Name] looks over at their untouched cupcake.

“Baba, ‘m not hungy,” [Child’s Name] says.

“Oh, that’s alright! We can save it for later,” you tell them.

Before you can grab the cupcake, [Child’s Name] takes it and pushes it towards Shadow.

“For uncle,” [Child’s Name] says.

Both Sonic and Shadow look surprised, but Shadow takes the cupcake with a small smile.

“Thank you, little one,” Shadow says.

“Aw man! What about Papa Sonic??” Sonic asks.

[Child’s Name] sticks out their tongue at Sonic, causing you to burst out laughing as Sonic sputters in disbelief and Shadow smirks.

This was going to be an interesting turn in their rivalry.

[gatheryepens]

So I don’t know if people are saying I’m doing a good job to reassure or if I’m actually doing a good job 😭😭

[xo100]

Hey, can you write about landos gf breaking her arm and him taking care of her? like having to help her change and shower, doing her hair und stuff line that? thank you <3

In his care - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary/request: request by anon as you can read above this!

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1562

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

Lando Norris had always been the playful, light-hearted boyfriend, the type to tease and make you laugh until your stomach hurt. But after three years together, there was a depth to your relationship that went beyond just the banter and the fun. He’d become your best friend, your confidant, and now, your caretaker.

You hadn’t expected to be in this position—broken arm in a sling, unable to do even the most basic things without help. It was a stupid accident, really. A slip, a fall, and now you were stuck in this uncomfortable, frustrating situation. But as it turned out, Lando was more than up for the challenge of taking care of you. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it.

-

The first real test came on day one, when it was time for you to shower. Lando, always the playful one, had teased you when he realized you’d need help.

“So, I get to see you naked... and it’s for ‘medical reasons’? Lucky me,” he said with a wink, earning him an eye-roll from you.

“Lando,” you groaned, cheeks flushing. “This isn’t exactly a fun situation, you know.”

But even as you complained, you couldn’t help but laugh. He had a way of lightening even the most awkward moments. His teasing helped take your mind off the discomfort and frustration of not being able to do things on your own. Lando knew when to joke, and when to be serious.

“I’m kidding, love,” he said, his tone softening as he walked over to you. “I’ve got you, okay?”

And he did. Gently, he helped you undress, his fingers careful around your arm. There was something about the way he moved—confident yet delicate—that made you feel safe. Vulnerable, yes, but never embarrassed. He was Lando, your Lando, and there was no one else you trusted more.

Once you were under the warm spray of water, he joined you, shampooing your hair, his fingers massaging your scalp. It was a strange, intimate experience, but not in a way that made you feel uncomfortable. In fact, it was sweet.

“Maybe I should do this for you more often,” he murmured, lips close to your ear.

“You think I’ll let you wash my hair when I’m fully capable?” you shot back, a smile tugging at your lips.

He chuckled, his breath warm on your neck. “You never know, you might like the service.”

But as much as he teased, there was genuine care in the way he handled you. He washed every inch of your body with the gentleness you never knew he had. You leaned into him, resting your head on his chest for a moment, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath your ear.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“For what?” he asked softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“For being... you.”

-

You never realized how hard it was to do something as simple as put your hair in a ponytail with one hand. By the third day, you were ready to give up on the idea of leaving the house with your hair looking decent. But, of course, Lando wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Okay, I’m going to do it,” he said, determination in his voice as he picked up your hairbrush and an elastic.

You sat in front of him, trying to keep still while he struggled to gather your hair into something resembling a ponytail. The concentration on his face was adorable—his tongue poking out a little as he focused on the task at hand.

“Lando, it’s fine,” you said after the third attempt. “I can just wear it down.”

“No way,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m getting this right.”

It took another few tries, but eventually, he managed to pull your hair into a somewhat lopsided ponytail. He grinned proudly, admiring his work in the mirror behind you.

“Look at that! I’m a pro,” he said, obviously pleased with himself.

You laughed, reaching up with your good hand to touch the ponytail. It wasn’t perfect, but it was endearing in its imperfection.

“I love it,” you said sincerely.

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your good shoulder. “Told you I’d take care of you.”

“You’re doing a great job, babe.”

-

As the days went on, Lando had to help you with more than just your hair. Getting dressed with one hand was a nightmare, and you hated having to rely on him for something so simple. But Lando, being the cheeky guy he was, turned it into something fun.

“Alright, love, what’ll it be today?” he asked, holding up two of your shirts. “Sexy red or casual blue?”

You gave him a pointed look. “I’m not trying to impress anyone, Lando.”

He smirked, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “You’re always impressing me, though.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart fluttered at his words. He knew exactly how to make you feel special, even when you were at your most vulnerable.

“Blue,” you said with a sigh, and he grinned.

Helping you get dressed was, of course, another challenge. He was gentle but still fumbled a bit, trying not to hurt your arm as he guided it through the sleeve.

“Sorry, sorry!” he muttered as he accidentally tugged too hard on your sling.

You laughed through the discomfort. “You’re not great at this, huh?”

“Hey! I’m doing my best here,” he protested, but there was no real frustration in his voice. He was patient with you, and that was what mattered.

Once you were dressed, he stepped back to admire his work.

“Not bad, huh?” he said, a proud smile on his face.

“Not bad at all,” you agreed, and he leaned down to kiss you softly.

-

By the end of the week, you were starting to feel a little more like yourself, but the pain in your arm was still a constant reminder of your injury. Lando, ever the attentive boyfriend, noticed when you were getting frustrated or tired, and he was always there to offer comfort.

That evening, you were lying on the couch, scrolling mindlessly through your phone, when Lando plopped down beside you. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, careful of your injured arm, and snuggled up close.

“You doing okay?” he asked, his voice soft in your ear.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “Just... tired of this.”

“I know,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “But you’re doing great. And I’m here, okay? For as long as you need me.”

You smiled, leaning into him. His warmth, his presence—it was everything you needed. You didn’t have to ask for his help; he just gave it freely, without hesitation.

As you lay there together, his fingers absentmindedly drawing circles on your back, you realized how lucky you were. Not just because he was helping you through this injury, but because he was Lando. The man who loved you unconditionally, who saw you at your weakest and still made you feel strong.

“Love you,” you whispered, closing your eyes.

“Love you more,” he replied softly, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

And in that moment, broken arm and all, you felt more loved than ever.

-

As your arm started to heal, you began to regain some independence, but that didn’t stop Lando from taking every opportunity to tease you. He seemed to enjoy his new role as caretaker a little too much, and he never missed a chance to flirt.

One afternoon, you were sitting at the kitchen table, trying to cut up some fruit with your good hand. Lando walked in, immediately taking the knife from you.

“Let me help,” he said, leaning in close.

“I can do it,” you protested, though you didn’t exactly mind when he was this close to you.

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Yeah, but I do it better, don’t I?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at your lips. He knew exactly how to get under your skin, but in the best way.

As he cut up the fruit, he stole glances at you, his smile never fading. “You know,” he said casually, “taking care of you has been... kind of fun.”

“Oh, has it now?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he said, sliding a piece of fruit toward you. “I mean, I get to spend all this extra time with you, take care of you, shower with you...”

“Lando!” you laughed, swatting at him with your good hand.

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss you. “I’m just saying, maybe I should be your personal nurse more often.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, but your heart swelled with love for him.

“I know,” he replied, his voice soft as he looked into your eyes. “But you love me for it.”

And he was right.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know! Also hey anon! If you read this, I hope that this is what you had in mind!

[straylightdream]

meet me in the hallway

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: jeon wonwoo x f.reader x kim mingyu

They been best friends their whole life. They’ve shared everything but they have never shared a girl. What happens when no one can keep their emotions out of this?

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: neighbor / friends with benefits au, non idol au

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 24.4k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst, body image issues explicit language, drinking, smut warning below

an: I wrote this a long time ago and decided to edit it and rework some stuff.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: intercourse, multiple sex scenes, talks of sleeping with someone else, wonwoo is kinda rough once, sex while intoxicated (both parties are fully consenting, oral (f, receiving), shower sex, threesome, some fluffy smut as well, Mingyu accidentally listening to the mc and wonwoo have sex

ONE - THE BEGINNING

You had all lived in the same apartment building. Wonwoo and Mingyu were childhood friends who moved in together right after college.

You were a teacher who lived next door to them. You had never been the type of girl who dated around or anything like that. Monogamy was alway the way for you. You had only ever been in long term relationships.

Your last boyfriend was an asshole who would break up with you to sleep around. He gave you this long winded speech about how he was still young and really wanted to see other people. He did that for about two months before he came crawling back to you.

You had been single for the last two years, and it was probably the happiest you had been. It was nice to not have to worry about being in a relationship. You just got to do what made you happy.

You had lived next to the boys for the last year and a half and over that time you had grown to have a pretty good friendship with them. At least once a week, which normally was every Friday night. You would all hang out, drink lots of wine and play board games or something like that. According to Wonwoo you all hung out on Friday just so you could get wine drunk.

It was Thursday and Wonwoo and Mingyu had invited you over to eat Chinese take-out and watch a movie. You came over and you were all sitting on the living room couch with plates filled with Chinese food. Mingyu was flipping through Netflix trying to find something for them to watch. Wonwoo and you were too busy chatting about something random that happened at his work.

“So, what should we watch?” Mingyu asked.

“I’m cool with anything,” Wonwoo said, shrugging his shoulders.

“Let’s just watch that anime Wonwoo was talking about,” you said sitting in the middle of the two boys.

“Sounds good,” Mingyu said, clicking on an episode.

You sat on the couch joking around and eating Chinese food until about ten when you said it was time to head home. You had to get up at six to go to work. If you stay any later you’ll be too tired at work tomorrow.

“Hey (YN), just so you know I’m going out of town tomorrow,” Mingyu said standing with you at the door to his apartment.

“Does that mean we can’t have wine Friday?” You can’t help but sound disappointed. You always look forward to Fridays with the boys.

Wonwoo yelled and walked over, “hey, we’re still friends we can have wine Friday without Mingyu.”

Mingyu rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Fine, have wine Friday without me,” Mingyu stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you to give you a hug goodbye. He always gives you the best hugs.

“Wonwoo, did you want to come over to my place tomorrow?” You asked.

“Yeah that sounds good,” he said before giving you a hug goodbye.

“Alright Mingyu, have fun on your trip, and I’ll see you tomorrow around five Wonwoo,” you smiled before walking out the door.

TWO: A WHOLE NEW MEANING TO WINE FRIDAYS

Mingyu let out a sigh as he turned to look at Wonwoo who was smiling, and Mingyu just shook his head. Wonwoo was a huge flirt and he knew while he was gone Wonwoo was probably going to hit on you the whole time he was gone. Wonwoo could tell by Mingyu’s face that something was going on. “Mingyu what’s up?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Mingyu lied.

Wonwoo had known him basically all his life. He knew he had something on his mind, “I don’t believe you.”

“Okay I have a little crush on her.” He sighs.

Wonwoo smiled, “I can’t say I blame you, she's really pretty.” He patted him on the shoulder.

“We’re all really close and I don’t want to ruin it, but she’s such a sweet and funny girl,” he let out a light sigh.

“Yeah she’s one hell of a girl,” Wonwoo smiled.

-

Wonwoo knocked on your apartment door with a bottle of wine in his hand. He couldn’t lie for some reason he felt slightly nervous about the fact you were going to be hanging out alone. Opening the door, you had a smile on your face, and your hair was pulled back showing off the pretty skin on your neck. You wore a sundress and a blazer. You didn’t have a chance to change after work. “You look pretty,” he said as he stepped inside and slipped off his shoes.

“Thank you, Wonwoo. So I was thinking we could order some pizza. Because nothing screams classy quite like pizza and wine,” you said with a breathy laugh.

You walked into the kitchen area and handed Wonwoo the wine opener and reached into the cupboard and pulled out two large wine glasses. Sitting the glasses down in front of Wonwoo, he poured you both large glasses of wine. Grabbing your phone off the counter you ordered some pizza. Wonwoo sat at the kitchen table working on drinking his glass of wine. He couldn’t help but love how easy everything seemed between you. Walking back into the kitchen you went and removed your blazer and were now only wearing your pretty floral sundress. You sat down a game of scrabble you had under the coffee table, that you had literally only bought for wine Fridays.

“So, we’re playing scrabble tonight?” he asked arching his eyebrow so it showed over his circular glasses.

“Yes, we're playing scrabble. It’s the only two-person game I own,” you said sitting down.

You played scrabble and ate pizza together and finished off the bottle of wine Wonwoo had brought. You were now sitting still at the kitchen table but you had switched to taking shots of tequila and playing never have I ever. You told Wonwoo that you were boring so this wasn’t going to get you super drunk.

You tossed back your first shot and suddenly regretted even agreeing to play this stupid game. As the golden liquor slid down your throat. Tequila has never been your friend. Especially when it came to drinking games.

“Never have I ever gone streaking,” you said with a pointed look hoping that Wonwoo was going to have to drink. You’ve heard college stories from both Wonwoo and Mingyu and you knew the both got a little wild back in the day.

He gave her smirk and took a shot. Shaking his head, he said, “never have I ever had sex with a teacher.”

With a heavy sigh you grabbed the shot glass and quickly took the hard liquor. “First of all, I need to explain, he wasn’t my teacher. It was the stupid hot history teacher at the school I work with, we dated for a little while.”

“Damn that’s scandalous,” he smirked, causing your cheeks to burn.

“Never have I ever had sex in public,” you stare at a little shocked he took a drink.

“Never have I ever had sex in my room-mate’s room,” he said, hoping in college you had sex in your roommate's room.

You shook your head letting him know you were going to be drinking to that. With a raised eyebrow you said, “never have I ever had a body shot taken off me.”

He tossed back another shot and then looked at you extremely confused, “why has no man ever been smart enough to lick alcohol off you?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “probably has something to do with the fact I’m not a small girl.”

“Fuck that you’re beautiful and I say we change that right now,” he stood up quickly and became extremely aware of the fact that he was pretty drunk. He’s never gotten this drunk hanging out with you.

“Are you being serious?” You asked, confused.

He nodded his head and handed you a shot glass, “drink up doll, because I’m about to lick your skin.” Your cheeks burned even more as you clinked the shot glass with the one Wonwoo was holding. You stood by the table staring at each other for a moment before Wonwoo walked away and walked over to the fridge to pull out a lime. He quickly cut it up into a few pieces and grabbed the salt bottle off the counter. You stood in front of the kitchen table like actually in shock this was happening.

“Wonwoo, showing off my body makes me uncomfortable,” you said, reaching out and resting your hand on his chest and you swayed a little bit at the feeling of the mixture of wine and tequila flowing through your system.

Leaning forward he put his lips to your ear and whispered, “you’re beautiful and let me show you that.”

A shiver went down your spine as you nodded your head silently. She moved back and bumped the kitchen table. Wonwoo reached down and pushed your dress up over your hips. Helping you jump onto the kitchen table. You were suddenly extremely happy that you wore a cute pair of cheek underwear to work today. Laying back on the table, you sat back on your elbows as Wonwoo pushed your dress up further.

“May I,” he asked, holding the lime close to your breast.

Silently you nod as he dragged the lime up your chest towards your neck, wetting the skin. He then reached over and coated it lightly with salt. Holding the lime up to your lips you slowly opened your mouth holding the lime for him. He gave you one last smile before he poured the golden tequila into your belly button. You held her breath as his lips kissed your skin drinking the liquid. You felt yourself becoming turned on as he dragged his tongue across your chest removing the salt. Without a word his lips brushed your as he took the lime from your mouth. You stared at him completely breathlessly, you weren’t sure if anything in your life had ever aroused you more than what Wonwoo had just done to you. Pushing your thighs together you attempted to remove some of the tension.

He pulled the lime from his own and sat it down on the table as stared at you biting his bottom lip. You couldn’t even bring yourself to speak, because you were pretty sure the only thing that was going to come out of your mouth would be a moan.

“Did you like that YN?” he asked, smirking.

With wide eyes you silently nodded.

“Did you want to take one off me?” he asked, knowing it was only fair.

You nodded your head again and slowly sat up. Wonwoo helped you off the table and removed his shirt before jumping onto the kitchen table. Turning to the counter you grabbed a wedge of lime and dragged it across his extremely toned stomach. You poured salt across the trail of lime, and then brought the lime to Wonwoo’s lips and he bit down with his eyes locked on yours. Silently you poured the liquor into his belly button. You glanced at him for approval and he gave you a nod. Licking the liquid from his skin you took a breath before you dragged your tongue across his abs, before your lips moved up to his mouth to take the lime. Stepping away slowly you bit the lime for a moment before sitting it on the table. Wonwoo sat on the edge of the table staring at you with lust filled eyes. Suddenly it became very clear that he might have made a mistake when he said you should take body shots. Because his brain was fogged with lust as he stared at you.

“Was that fun?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said softly, standing in front of him.

Without a word he jumped off the table and crashed his lips into yours. You were caught off guard for a moment but it didn’t take long before your lips moved against his. His hands gripped your soft hips pulling you closer to him. Your hands wrapped around his neck holding on to.

His lips moved from your mouth and started kissing his way down your neck. You couldn’t help but moan as he nipped at your neck. Pulling away he looked at you with lust blown eyes, your bottom lip was captured between your teeth. You stared at each other knowing that what was about to happen could change everything.

“What do you want to happen right now?” he asked with his hands still gripping your hips.

“I don’t ever do this, but I just want you,” you sighed, feeling drunk on lust. There has been a part of you that has had a lingering crush on Wonwoo since you met him. There was something about a kind of nerdy guy who wears glasses with a black cat personality.

“Okay baby girl, I will give you anything you want,” he whispered into your ears. Him calling you baby was enough to make you wet right there on the spot.

He turned you around so you were leaning against the table. Looking over your shoulder you watched as he dropped down to his knees and hooked his fingers into the elastic on your undies, slowly he slid them down your thighs. He quickly unbuckled his pants and reached into his pocket. He pulled out his wallet and grabbed the single condom. He sat it down on the kitchen table and then quickly undid his pants the rest of the way and pushed them down his thighs. As his pants hit the floor, he reached for the foil pack and tore it open with his teeth. He rolled the rubbed down his length. Your hands braced the table anticipating what was about to happen.

“Can we remove the dress?” he asked with his lips pressed to the back of your neck.

You nod your head quickly. If there wasn’t quite a bit of alcohol going through your system, you probably would have said no because of how self-conscious you are. He reached for the zipper that ran down your spine, he reached up and gently pushed the strapped of your dress down your shoulders and the fabric fell to the ground.

“What about this?” he asked with his fingers running under the straps of your bra. Silently you nodded your head once again. He unclasped your bra and you helped push it off. You stood there completely naked as he kissed down your spine. He reached around the front of you and dipped his fingers into your wet folds as he kissed the back of your neck. You couldn’t help the light moan that passed your lips as he gently stroked your sensitive nub. “Are you ready?” he asked with his lips brushing your ear.

Silently you nod anticipating what’s to come. He slowly pushed inside you. A low gasp passed her lips at the stretching feeling. You hadn’t had sex in about two years and you were going to have to get used to the feeling all over again. The slight pain you felt probably had to do with the fact that Wonwoo was quite a bit bigger than any other guys you had slept with. As he bottomed out his hands gripped your hips and you leaned forward on the table resting your elbows on the white wood and moaned.

“Are you good?” he rasped knowing you probably needed a minute. His hand gently ran up and down your sides giving you time to adjust.

“Yeah,” you said, speaking for the first time in a while. You weren’t sure if you could form proper words for a moment there.

He started his pace pretty slowly giving you time to get used to him, but as you arched your back and moaned he picked up his pace. Leaning back up you stood there with your hands pressed to the white hardwood table moaning as he thrust into you at a quick pace. One of his hands moved from your hips and reached around to massage one of your breasts. Gasping as he rolled your taut nipple between his fingers as he continued to thrust quickly.

“Wonwoo,” you moaned. “I’m close.”

He leaned forward and left a trail of wet kisses up your spine, and with his lips ghosting you skin whispered, “cum for me then baby.”

Your eyes about rolled in the back of your head as the coil in your stomach grew even more taunt. “Harder,” was about the only thing she could even think to moan.

“Come on baby,” he gripped both of your hips and continued to thrust into you even harder.

A loud gasp falls from your lips as your high crashes over you. Instantly falling to your elbows as Wonwoo continued to pound into you. He only got a few sloppy thrusted in before his own release. Slumping forward he rested his body against your back as he fought to catch his breath.

“Wonwoo,” you paused trying to catch her breath. “I need to sit my legs feel like they’re about to give out.”

He let out a soft laugh and pulled away from you and sat down in the chair by the table. You took a deep breath and sat in the chair that you had been originally sitting in. You were both completely naked as you just stared at each other trying to take in everything that had just happened.

“I’m gonna be sore tomorrow,” you said with a little laugh, knowing that you were most likely gonna be hungover and sore from the rough sex you just had.

“I’m rarely that rough with someone the first time,” he ran his fingers through his hair, surprised at how rough he had gotten. “Was I too rough?” he was suddenly concerned he hurt you.

“I’m fine,” you ran her fingers across your face and looked up at Wonwoo who was still staring at you with a concerned look. “Wonwoo, believe me you weren’t too rough. I’m not the type that normally likes rough sex, but damn that was pretty hot. I’m also not the type that casually sits around naked,” you said as you reached down for your sundress that was on the floor.

“I feel like I should let you know, I didn’t have sex with you just because I’m drunk. I actually think your beautiful,” he reached out and placed his hand on your bare thigh.

“Thank you, Wonwoo,” you smiled. You stood up and pulled your sundress without bothering to put your bra on. You walked over to the fridge still wobbly from the mixture of all the alcohol and the intense orgasm that Wonwoo had just given you. You pulled out a bottle of water and started chugging it and stared at Wonwoo who was still sitting at the kitchen table completely naked.

“I think this puts a whole knew meaning to wine Fridays,” he said with a little laugh.

You shook your head and suddenly felt awkward about the fact that the one-time Mingyu goes away, you and Wonwoo had sex on your kitchen table.

“Should we blame body shots for all that?”

He nodded his head, “yeah I mean body shots gave me a reason to basically get you naked.”

“I can already feel my hangover coming,” you sighed sitting back down at the kitchen table.

“Yeah let’s never mix tequila and wine again,” he leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to yours. It was a nice change after how rough he had just been.

“Did you want to cuddle on the couch and watch your anime you like?” You asked.

“Yeah maybe I should put boxers on,” he said reaching onto the floor to find his boxers.

You both got comfortable on the couch and curled up together. As you laid there for a while you finally said, “Mingyu missed a crazy wine Friday.”

Wonwoo couldn’t help the wave of guilt that washed over him. He had just slept with the girl that Mingyu had told him he like. He knew Mingyu said it was just a crush but suddenly he felt terrible, and knew that when Mingyu came home, he was going to have to tell his best friend about what had happened.

“Even though I can already feel the hangover coming on, I had fun Wonwoo,” you glanced up at him.

“Me too (Y/N),” even though he knew he might of fucked up with Mingyu he couldn’t lie he was glad he spent his Friday with you.

THREE: SOMETHING NEW

After the events that had unfolded with you and Wonwoo, you hadn’t seen each other. There really hadn’t been time for you to be able to talk about what had happened that Friday night. You had to go see your mother for a family birthday party and Wonwoo had some work stuff of his own to take care of.

Sunday rolled around and Wonwoo was eating lunch at the kitchen table when Mingyu walked in. The moment his warm eyes locked onto Mingyu he was suddenly filled with a sense of guilt for sleeping with the girl Mingyu had a crush on.

Mingyu sat his suitcase down and walked over and sat down across from Wonwoo. Mingyu could instantly tell something was wrong by the look on his face. “What’s up Wonwoo?” Mingyu was curious to know what was going on.

“I’m a terrible friend,” he sighed as he sat his fork down.

Mingyu tilted his head slightly to the side and looked at Wonwoo confused on what he could possibly be talking about. “What are you talking about?” he asked.

“I slept with the girl you have a crush on,” he sighed pushing his fingers through his dark locks.

Mingyu let out a light sigh and closed his eyes, processing what Wonwoo had just said to him, “you slept with (y/n).” It wasn’t a question by any means it was a statement. Mingyu wanted to be mad at him, because he had literally just told him about his crush on you. But he knew he didn’t have a right to be mad. He didn’t have claims on you or anything, he had no right to get between you and Wonwoo.

“Yeah, we got drunk, and it just kind of happened. We just had a fun time, and if you don’t want me to hook up with her again I won’t.”

Mingyu shook his head and let out a sigh, “Wonwoo I’m in no place to even try to be involved with anyone, so don’t let me get in the way.” Mingyu is so busy with his tech company he works for he barely has time to attempt and a relationship with how much he travels for work.

Wonwoo stared at Mingyu attempting to read his expression. He had known Mingyu basically all his life and normally he could tell what he was actually thinking by his expression. But at the moment Mingyu just kind of seemed indifferent or emotionless to the situation.

“Are you sure?”

Mingyu nodded his head, “yeah go for it, Wonwoo.”

The two of them talked about Mingyu’s trip for a little while catching up before Wonwoo knew he needed to have a serious talk with you. Walking next door he knocked on the door wondering if you were home. As he thought about it, he wondered if maybe he should have texted and asked if you were free. As he reached into his pocket for his phone to text you, he looked up at the sound of the door opening.

“Hey Wonwoo, what’s up?” You asked, leaning against the door frame.

He couldn’t help but let his warm eyes travel up and down your body. You were once again barefoot and wearing a cream-colored sundress that hit about an inch above your knees.

“Do you have time to talk?” he asked.

You nodded and stepped inside signaling for him to follow. You walked over and sat down on the couch that was in front of a large window. Wonwoo sat next to you and stared silently for a moment. You could tell he seems like he’s trying to figure out what to say.

“So…” he said awkwardly. “Friday was kind of wild…”

Your stomach dropped, wondering if Wonwoo may have regretted what had unfolded between you. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was suddenly a mistake. You were never someone who just casually had sex with someone. You had always waited to be in a relationship with someone before having sex with them.

“Wonwoo, we can forget it if you want,” you said awkwardly.

His eyes went wide and he shook his head, “um, (YN) I don’t want to forget that happened.”

You had a confused look on your face as you stared at him, “wait what did you want to talk about then?”

He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly wondering how he could possibly ask this next question without offending you. “I was wondering if you wanted to hook up more often?”

You couldn’t help but smile a little as you thought about the idea of you and Wonwoo having sex more often. “What exactly do you mean by that?”

“Like we could sleep together more often. I know we're both really busy, and you’ve mentioned that relationships aren’t really convenient for you right now, and I’m not exactly good at the whole relationship thing. But I personally think we have a good connection, and the sex was fun even with us both being drunk.”

You reached over and placed your hand on his thigh and asked, “so you want to be friends with benefits?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “I mean I guess yeah. Like we can hang out and have sex and stuff.” He couldn’t lie he had never once in his life had a friend with benefits relationship, but for some reason his mind was telling him that it was a good idea.

“I mean, I haven’t had sex in like two years before Friday. It would probably be nice to have a way to relieve sexual tension and relax. You’re also nice to look at,” you said, causing Wonwoo to let out a laugh.

He leaned back on the couch, getting more comfortable. “So do we have rules?”

You hadn’t even thought about the fact that you might need to lay down some rules. You stared at him for a moment before saying, “as long as we’re doing this, I would like it if you didn’t sleep with anyone just out of respect for me.”

He nodded his head. He hadn’t even thought about sleeping with anyone else while they were doing this. “Anything else?” he asked.

You nodded your head, “I’m on birth control but I still want to use a condom every time. The last thing we need is for you to knock me up.” He nodded his head knowing that was a smart decision. You didn’t need the possibility of you accidentally bringing a kid into the picture.

“Oh, and just so you know I’m clean, I got tested last month, and I haven’t slept with anyone since then,” he said.

“I’m clean too.”

You smiled and stuck your hand out and he reached forward and shook your hand. He tugged on your arm and pulled you forward so fell towards him. He placed his hand on each side of your face and brought his lips to yours slowly. The kiss was slow and passionate, you placed your hands on his chest firmly as your lips moved together. Pulling away from you slowly he tugged on your bottom lip and you let out a soft moan.

Your eyes were locked on each other for a long moment, before you stood up and took his hand on your and stood up. You led him down the short hallway to your room. The second you were in your room he stood behind you and dragged the zipper on the back of your dress slowly. The cream-colored dress was in a pool at your feet. Without a second a thought his fingers unclipped your bra and it fell to the floor landing in the cream-colored pool. Turning around you faced him bare chested and reached for the bottom of his shirt signaling for him to take his shirt off. He rid himself of his shirt. You reached for his belt making quick work of removing it. Neither of you could seem to get your clothes off fast enough. Your focus was then on unbuttoning his pants. He pushed his pants off as you slid your panties down your thighs. Walking over you lay on your queen-sized bed. He got rid of his boxers and socks, and followed you to the bed.

“I wanted to taste you, baby,” he said, breaking the silence that had formed between you.

Silently you spread your legs as you laid back. You watched with hungry eyes as he crawled onto the bed. He started placing kisses on your knees and then worked his way to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. He placed a wet kiss on the top of your mound before dragging his tongue up your slit slowly. The moment his tongue lapped at your bundle of nerves you instantly let out a moan at the sensation. He rubbed index finger up and down your entrance, as he gently licked your sensitive clit. As his fingers slowly started pumping in and out of you, you tangled your fingers in his hair as you moaned. Each drag of his slender fingers earned a gasp.

It didn’t take much before you hit your high and your inner walls were clenching his fingers. Pulling away from you he licked his fingers and smirked as your chest was heaving as you came from your high.

“(YN), where do you keep your condoms?” he asked as he reached down and slowly pumped his hard length. The sight of you still coming down from the orgasm he gave you was turning him on even more.

“Top draw of the night stand,” you panted, closing your eyes.

He walked over and grabbed the box of condoms that you had in the top drawer and sat them on top of the night stand. Grabbing a foil packet he tore it open with his teeth, and slid the rubber down his length. Crawling back on to the bed he slowly spread your legs again. He hovered over you and pressed his lips to your for a heated kiss as he slowly slid into you. You gasped as he bottomed out and reached up to hold onto his back. Your back arched off the bed as he slowly thrust into you.

“I’m going to be gentler this time, and take care of you,” he said with his lips ghosting the skin of your neck. “I got you baby,” he rolled his hips into yours over and over again at a deliciously slow pace.

You lifted your hips to try and match his thrust as his lips moved across your skin, kissing wherever he possibly could. His lips moved down to your breast and he sucked gently on your taut nipples. With every thrust you couldn’t help but let out breathless gasp. Your fingers clawed at his back wanting him closer. He placed open mouth kisses wherever his lips could touch. The sounds you were making were driving him wild. The echoing sounds of your moans and whimpers, with the sounds of slapping skin was erotic.

“Wonwoo, I'm close,” you whined desperately.

“Baby come for me,” he moved his lips up to your ear and whispered. “Just let go baby,” his breath alone against your ear sent you over the edge. Your walls pulled on his length, and Wonwoo got a few more thrust in before he hit his high.

He came moaning your name and collapsed on top of you. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours for a soft kiss before he rolled off of you.

You laid there silently as you both rode out your highs. Wonwoo leaned over and pulled your soft body against his to cuddle.

“I could get used to this,” you sighed.

FOUR: DYING OF EMBARRASSMENT

It was the first Wine Friday since Wonwoo and you had started sleeping together and Mingyu couldn’t lie, he wasn’t exactly excited to be hanging out as a group. He kind of hated the fact that he knew you and Wonwoo were having sex. Mingyu had ordered Thai food from a place up the street and you were all sitting at the kitchen table discussing your work week. You and Wonwoo weren’t acting like you were a couple or anything so Mingyu was pretty happy about that. He also was happy about the fact you hadn’t had sex in Wonwoo’s room yet. Whenever you would hook up, Wonwoo would go over to your place.

The group was finishing up a bottle of wine when you started to play scrabble together. Mingyu was happy that everything between the group hadn’t seemed to change at all. Wonwoo and you never talked about what was going on between you, and Mingyu didn’t ask any questions.

As it was getting pretty late Mingyu told you guys he was going to head to bed because he was tired. He left you alone in the kitchen as you finished off what was left of the wine.

“Did you want to spend the night?” he asked knowing that you actually hadn’t had a sleep over yet, and you hadn’t had sex at his place.

You pushed a piece of your hair behind your ear and asked, “is that allowed?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “why wouldn’t it be?”

You raised her hands and shrugged, “I don’t know we haven’t had sex here before, and we haven’t had a sleepover.”

“Well Mingyu doesn’t care, and I want to cuddle,” he smiled standing up.

“I don’t have pajamas or anything,” you sighed.

“Okay let’s run next door and get your toothbrush and a change of clothes for tomorrow because you’re sleeping naked tonight,” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, “I need to bring something in case I have to get up.”

“Fine, whatever you say.”

You walked over to your place and you packed a little tote with something to wear tomorrow, an oversized shirt, and small sleep shorts, and your toothbrush. Once back at Wonwoo’s you brushed your teeth in the bathroom that was across the hall from Wonwoo’s room and was in your pajamas that Wonwoo told you he was going to take off you the second you were in his bedroom.

He kept his promise and the second you were in his room he quickly removed your clothes, and had you lying on your stomach on his bed. He laid naked on the bed next to you and placed kisses up and down your spine. He gripped your hips and laid on top of you slowly thrusting into you. You couldn’t help but moan as he gently bit the bare skin on your shoulder. Without a word he got off of you and rolled on to his back and told you to ride him. His hands gripped your soft hips as you slowly sank down on to his length. He sat up and massaged your breast as you continued to slide up and his length picked up the pace lightly. You couldn’t up but moan his name as he reached between you with one hand and rubbed your clit as you continued to ride him.

“Wonwoo,” you moaned.

Out in the hallway Mingyu had made the mistake to get up to use the restroom when it was obvious that his roommate was having sex with his crush. Mingyu let out a light sigh as he walked into the bathroom. His body seemed to be responding to the sounds of your moans. He walked over to the sink and splashed cold water on his face trying to calm down. He walked back into his bedroom trying to avoid hearing you have sex.

He laid in his bed for about twenty minutes before he got up to get something to drink. Walking back into the kitchen, he found you bent over wearing tiny shorts that didn’t even fully cover your ass. He couldn’t help but groan at the sight. You stood up quickly and awkwardly found Mingyu standing in the dimly lit kitchen wearing only his boxer-briefs. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander across his extremely fit body.

“Hey (y/n),” he said, giving you an awkward wave.

“Hey Mingyu,” you awkwardly waved back. “Do you mind that I’m staying over?” You asked, wondering if he wanted you to go home.

“You can stay over,” he said as he watched you slowly tug on the bottom of your tiny sleep short. He couldn’t help it when his eyes wandered across your soft body. He knew he probably shouldn’t think about you naked, but he suddenly wanted to know how you looked underneath your shorts that were leaving little to the imagination.

You bit your bottom lip and tugged on the bottom of your sleep shorts again, your eyes wandered down to Mingyu's small boxer-brief and noticed that his bulge had grown quite a bit. Suddenly your cheeks burned when you realized that you were barely wearing any clothes in his kitchen and now he had an erection.

His eyes went wide when he looked down, and suddenly he wanted to die. He couldn’t help that not even ten minutes he had heard you and Wonwoo going at it and now you were standing in front of him wearing basically only underwear and a shirt. He couldn’t control that his brain was automatically turned on by all this.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” he said, sighed, moving his hands down to cover it.

“Hey it’s not a big deal,” that was a total lie because from the bulge in his boxer-briefs it looked like Mingyu was quite big.

You hated that suddenly you were thinking about seeing what was inside of his tight boxer-briefs. You ran your hands down your face not even sure what was going to happen now.

“I kind of want to die of embarrassment now,” he sighed.

“It’s fine, if you want, we can totally act like this never happened,” you gave him a soft smile knowing that he would probably prefer to act like this never happened.

“Yeah that would be great,” he sighed. “Well not that this isn’t a great time, but I came in here to get some water.

You gave him a smile and reached into the fridge to get a bottle of water. You held it out and Mingyu walked towards you. His hand touched yours and your eyes locked onto each other. There was suddenly even more tension between you. You both still held onto the water as Mingyu stepped closer. There was about a foot between you and your eyes hadn’t moved from each other’s. Both of them were silent, not even exactly sure what they should say. You looked up at him suddenly wanting to kiss him, and those thoughts made you feel like a terrible person. Not even fifteen minutes ago Wonwoo was literally inside you, and now you’re in the kitchen with Mingyu wanting to kiss him.

With his hand that wasn’t holding the water bottle he reached up and gently brushed some of your hair behind your ear. It was taking everything in him not to kiss you right then and there. He couldn’t do that though. He gave Wonwoo permission to be with you. He had no right to want to kiss you.

“Mingyu,” you whispered as you leaned forward slightly.

There wasn’t much space between you as he leaned forward and rested his forehead against yours. He took a deep breath wanting to say that you needed to stop, but at the moment he was at a loss for words.

“I should go back to bed,” you said softly as you pulled away from him.

He nodded his head and stepped back, “yeah let’s forget this ever happened.”

You nodded your head.

You both quickly left the kitchen and you slipped back into Wonwoo’s room. He was laying on his bed looking at his phone. He put his phone down and gave you her a smile and she suddenly felt guilty. Crawling back into bed, you laid on your side looking over at Wonwoo. You knew that you needed to tell him what just happened.

“I almost just kissed Mingyu,” you confessed.

He knit his eyebrows together and looked at you extremely confused, “what happened?” He couldn’t really be mad but he was just kind of confused about what had happened.

You rubbed your face feeling suddenly even more terrible, “I don’t even know, we just got close and almost kissed.”

He couldn’t help but feel guilty that he might have gotten in between you and Mingyu. Wonwoo noticed that there was some chemistry between Mingyu and you. He knew deep down inside he couldn’t be mad.

“Do you want to sleep with him?” he asked, knowing that you could slap him for asking her that.

You knit your eyebrows together and stared at him for a moment. You never even thought about the possibility of sleeping with Mingyu. Sure, you’re attracted to him, but you didn’t think about having sex with him. After seeing him only in his boxers though your mind did wonder what he would look like naked.

“I don’t know,” you said softly, feeling embarrassed.

“So, there’s tension between you two maybe you should have sex.” He couldn’t believe he was asking you to have sex with Mingyu. Part of him thought it might ease some of his guilty conscience about hooking up with you when Mingyu liked you first.

“Would you be okay with that?” You asked, reaching over and resting your hand on top of his.

He nodded his head knowing that he couldn’t be selfish, “yeah I can talk to Mingyu about it tomorrow.”

You couldn’t help the butterflies that seemed to form in your stomach. You couldn’t believe that Wonwoo had just offered for you to have sex with Mingyu, and that you actually agreed with it.

FIVE: YOU MAKE ME FEEL GOOD

You stood in the shower together with Wonwoo’s hands wondering your naked body as his lips moved down your neck with open mouth kisses. You couldn’t help but moan as he nipped at the sensitive skin.

You pump his length as he kisses his way across your skin.

“Fuck-“ he moans. His moans egg you on. You continue stroking him until he cums painting your stomach. “You’re so good at that,” he sighs.

“Thank you.”

“Let me make you feel good.” He presses his body to yours as he kisses you. You’re in the mix of a heated makeout session as he moved his fingers down to your core and his fingers started doing lazy figure eights as his lips were still on your wet skin. He removed his fingers from your core and gripped your hips walking you back towards the shower wall.

His strong hand reached down to lift your leg, and squealed a little as you felt your foot slip and seconds later, his hand lost its grip on your thigh and you slipped and landed on your ass. Before Wonwoo could lose his own footing, he managed to catch himself. He looked down at you with wide eyes worried you hurt yourself falling. “(YN) are you okay?” he asked.

You groaned lowly and nodded.

“I’m so sorry,” he reached down and helped you stand up.

Rubbing your ass, you looked over at him and shook your head, “what happened to, I promise I won’t let you fall?”

“I think there was soap on the floor,” he looked down trying to see why you slipped. “I’m so sorry (YN), I promised I wouldn’t let that happen.”

You let out a soft laugh knowing that Wonwoo didn’t mean to drop you, “I guess it’s my fault because I washed my hair first.”

“I can massage your butt and kiss it to make it feel better,” he smirked.

Her eyes narrowed on him, “you aren’t touching my ass anytime soon after this.”

“I’m really sorry baby,” he leaned forward and pressed his lips to your cheek.

“I think it’s safe to say we aren’t having sex in the shower.” He nodded his head knowing you were in no mood for shower sex after falling.

You got out of the shower and were still in the bathroom drying off when Wonwoo brought up the idea of him talking to Mingyu.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” You asked, unsure if Wonwoo was actually fully okay with this.

He nodded and said, “yeah I think this is a good idea.”

“Alright if you’re okay with it, I’m okay with it happening.”

SIX: PURE BLISS

Sitting on his bed Mingyu stared at Wonwoo dumbfounded. He wasn’t sure if he heard Wonwoo properly. There was no way that he had brought up the idea of him having sex with you. He was fully expecting for Wonwoo to be upset about him almost kissing you. He never expected for him to be completely fine with it and offer for him to sleep with you.

He scratched his neck and stared at him, not even sure what he should say to him. This had to be some sick joke, there was no way you were was okay with this.

“Wonwoo you’re joking right?”

He shook his head, “no, I think it’s a good idea.”

He leaned forward and rested his elbow on his knee and sighed.

“Mingyu, you liked her before I started hooking up with her. She’s not my girlfriend, and she is obviously attracted to you.”

Wonwoo walked over and sat down on the bed next to him. He looked over at Mingyu and rested his hand on his shoulder, “she’s fine with this by the way. She’s not my girlfriend, and I kind of got in between what could have been between you guys.”

Mingyu’s eyebrows knit together, he couldn’t lie he had thought about what it would be like to have sex with you, but the idea of sleeping with you seemed so strange to him. Sure, he and Wonwoo had shared a lot of things over their friendship, but they had never shared a girl.

“Wonwoo you hang out with her all the time, and you guys are having sex all the time. Why isn’t she your girlfriend?” he asked him the question that Wonwoo had been asking himself quite a bit over this last week.

“We both know I make a terrible boyfriend, and I’m not great with commitment.”

Wonwoo knew that he wasn't good at being in a relationship. He figured that out back in college when he dated Yeri. She was an amazing girl who was sweet and beautiful, but for some reason commitment freaked Wonwoo out to no end. He broke up with her out of nowhere claiming he needed to spread his wings

“Wonwoo don’t you think this is a really bad idea?”

Wonwoo shook his head.

“Maybe we should all talk about this.” Mingyu said, trying to think logically about the whole situation.

“We can all talk about it. She’s home right now, we can walk over there right now.”

Mingyu nodded and stood up. He wasn’t going to be fully on board with this idea until he had a chance to see what you had to say about this situation. The whole time Mingyu had known you he didn’t know if he had heard her even bring up sex before. Every time Wonwoo would crack a joke about sex you would just get shy and stay silent.

They walked out of their apartment and headed next door to your apartment. Wonwoo knocked on the door and Mingyu stood back awkwardly. He couldn’t believe they were actually going to have this conversation. You answered the door and gave both the boys a big smile and led them into your kitchen, where you were making yourself a cup of coffee. Both the boys silently sat at the table and watched as you moved around the kitchen. You were once again wearing a sundress like you normally did during the warm weather. Wonwoo loved seeing you like this, he thought you looked so beautiful.

Sitting down at the table you looked at both the boys and smiled, “so what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

Wonwoo leaned back in the chair and smiled, “Mingyu and I talked about the possibility of him sleeping with you, and he’s unsure about it.”

You couldn’t help but wonder if you made a mistake letting Wonwoo know you were interested in sleeping with Mingyu. The fact that he was unsure about it, suddenly gave you the feeling that he plans on rejecting you.

Your face had fallen a little and Mingyu automatically noticed. “(YN), are sure you’re okay with this? I mean I think you’re beautiful, and everything,” he started to ramble on stumbling over his words. “Are you really sure you’re okay with this?” he needed to hear you say that you were one-hundred percent on board with this.

You nodded and couldn’t help but smile as Mingyu was nervously rambling, “I’m okay with this. I was never the type of girl who had sex with someone unless I was in a relationship, but with you guys things are different. I really trust both of you.”

Wonwoo reached over and patted Mingyu on the back, “see Mingyu, she’s good with it. (YN) you have to promise us, if at any point you want to stop any of this, you’ll tell us. You don’t have to worry about hurting our feelings.”

Mingyu nodded along with Wonwoo, “he’s right, anything that happens here, is completely up to you.”

You smiled feeling way better about the situation. “You guys need to promise me that if we do this, this isn’t going to ruin your friendship. I can’t be what comes between the two of you.” They both nodded in agreement. “Also, like jealousy can’t be a thing here,” you said.

“It won’t be an issue,” Wonwoo agreed.

“Also, we need to make sure we always use condoms because I’m for sure as hell not going to have a pregnancy scare and then have to worry about who the father is.” They both nodded knowing that could be really bad for all them. “So, when does this whole thing start?” You asked.

“Well why don’t you two spend some quality time together now?” Wonwoo asked.

Mingyu shrugged, still feeling pretty awkward about the whole situation. You looked over at Mingyu and gave him a smile, “right now works.”

Wonwoo stood up and walked over to where you were sitting. He leaned down and gave you a quick kiss, and made his way out of the apartment. He knew it was going to be awhile before you actually hooked up but he wanted to give you both some privacy.

You sat at the kitchen table for a few moments making small talk while you worked on drinking your coffee. As you drank the last sip you stood up and walked over to Mingyu and reached your hand out. He laced his fingers with yours and you led him down the hallway to your room. You were suddenly feeling extremely nervous about this whole situation. You told yourself that this experience was a chance to really work on feeling self confident and was a chance to explore more of your sexual side.

Walking into your room you shut the door behind Mingyu and stood there staring at him silently wondering how this was even going to start. Never in your life had you made plans to sleep with someone you weren't actually dating. Things with Wonwoo naturally happened. You didn’t make a plan to have sex before you did.

“Maybe we should kiss,” you said softly, trying to soften him up. He nodded his head. Stepping forward you placed your hand on his cheek and leaned forward gently pressing your lips to his. Your first kiss was sweet but passionate. You placed your hands on his chest as both his hands reached up to hold your face. Your lips danced as his tongue slid along your bottom lips asking for permission.

Your hands were slightly shaky from nerves as you reached up to start unbuttoning his white dress shirt. He could feel your hands shaking and he slowly removed his lips from yours and looked into your eyes. “We can stop this if you want?” He needed this all to be on your terms.

Shaking your head, you softly sighed, “I’m not exactly comfortable in my own skin, and I normally don’t like people seeing me naked.”

A look of confusion crossed his face as he stared at you, “what do you mean? Wonwoo has seen you naked.”

You stepped away from him and wrapped your arms across your soft stomach, “the first time we had sex, I was drunk and didn’t have time to think about what was happening. I didn’t really have a chance to feel self-conscious.”

Reaching out he rested his hand under your chin and tilted your head up so you were looking right into his warm eyes, “hey (YN), I think you’re beautiful, and the other night in the kitchen I practically saw you naked. Since that awkward encounter I haven’t been able to stop picturing you naked. So don’t doubt yourself, I already know I’m going to like what I see.”

His sweet words caused a huge smile to form on your face. “Thank you, Mingyu,” you reached out for the buttons on his dress shirt again.

His eyes stayed locked on yours as your fingers seemed to steady as you made work of unbuttoning his shirt. The moment his shirt was fully unbuttoned you reached up and pushed it down his toned shoulders. You reached for his belt, he wanted to stop you and ask if he could take off your dress first, but he knew he needed to do things at your pace. You tugged his belt off and unbuttoned his jeans. Reaching down and pushed off his jeans and stood in front of you in nothing but his boxer-briefs.

Your lust filled eyes traveled across his extremely toned body. You were still in awe that you were sleeping with Wonwoo who looked like he was made by the gods and wasn’t real, and now you were going to sleep with Mingyu who looks the same just in a taller stature.

“Are you liking what you see?” he awkwardly asked with a little laugh.

Biting your bottom lip, you fought back a small smile.

“Can we possibly take off your sundress?” he asked knowing you might say no.

You nodded and turned around and pulled up your hair to give him access to the zipper. He reached up and slowly slid the zipper down. He gently reached up and pushed the straps off your shoulders causing the dress to fall to the ground at your feet. He slowly ran his finger down from the top of your neck down your spine to the top of the clasp on your bra. He paused and whispered, “can I take this off?”

Silently you nodded.

He unclasped your bra and removed it. He stepped in front of you and let his eyes travel down your soft body as you stood in front of him feeling very exposed. He reached down and started placing gentle kisses across your chest. His lips placed kisses on your taunted nipples and you closed your eyes enjoying the feeling of his lips on your skin. He reached down and hooked his fingers into your panties and pulled them down your thighs. As your panties hit the floor you looked up at him with wide eyes.

Stepping away from you he pushed down his boxers and he freed his growing erections. You bit your bottom lip wondering how bold you should be. If this was Wonwoo your hands would be all over him right now, but you were still nervous about being with Mingyu. You fully trusted him, but you didn’t know his body like you did Wonwoo’s. In the time you were with Wonwoo you had learned all about the things that make him tick. You know all the right places to touch that turn him on, and he knows the way to make you putty in his hands.

Slowly you stepped towards him and started touching his growing length. He closed his eyes tightly enjoying the feeling of your soft hands touching him. Your soft hand moved up and down his hardening length. He’s definitely thicker than Wonwoo.

“Can I touch you (YN)?” he asked, dying to know what you felt like.

You nodded as you continued to stroke his heavy length. He reached forward and rubbed his fingers up and down your folds feeling how wet you already were. Your eyes stayed locked on each other as you touched each other. Mingyu rubbed your sensitive bundle of nerves attempting to make you even wetter than you already were.

A loud moan passed your lips as you closed your eyes feeling the coil start to tighten in your stomach. You stepped away from Mingyu and removed your hand from his hard length, earning a whimper. He stared at you with wide eyes wondering what was going on.

“I need you, all of you,” you walked over to your nightstand and grabbed a foil packet and handed it to Mingyu before crawling the bed.

He tore the foil packet open and slid it down his length and looked at you as you laid on the middle of the bed waiting for him. It had been a while since the last time he had sex, so he was kind of worried he wasn’t going to last long. You spread your legs and he sat back on his hunches between your legs. He stared at you in awe of how pretty you were. He couldn’t believe that Wonwoo had gotten to experience the sight of seeing you like this quite a bit over the last week.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said lowly.

“You sure know the right things to say to a girl,” you smiled.

He slowly lined himself up with your entrance and pushed his way in, you gasped as he bottomed out and stilled with his strong hands gripping your soft hips. You moaned as he reached down to where they were connected and started to toy with your sensitive bundle of nerves. You moaned loudly and gripped the sheets, he hadn’t even moved yet and you were close to the edge.

“Mingyu, please move,” you whined, wanting to feel him more.

He smiled and leaned forward so he was hovering over you. With his lips next to your ear he whispered, “put your leg up.”

Silently you did as he asked and he slowly started to thrust into you. You reached up and held onto his back wanting him to be as close to you as possible as he thrust into you over and over. His lips were on yours for a sloppy kiss as you both moaned.

He was glad you were at your place so you both could be as loud as you wanted to without the fear of Wonwoo hearing you. With each thrust the pull of your tight walls was intoxicating. He moved at a slow steady pace. Each intent thrust earning a moan.

His pace started to pick up as your moans grew more frequent. The push and pull of his length against your velvety walls was hitting just the right spot inside you. Mingyu was slightly thicker than Wonwoo, but that didn’t stop him. He knew exactly what he was doing. He made you a whimpering mess without even trying.

“I’m close, so close,” you moaned.

“You take me so well,” he said breathlessly with his lips ghosting yours.

“Mingyu- you feel so good. I need - more.”

With one quick thrust he earns a high pitched moan.

“Good girl,” he crashes his lips into yours for a heated kiss.

“Can I come?” You whimper desperately.

His soft eyes lock on yours as his hips slowly roll his hips into yours. “You never have to ask.”

“Okay,” you moaned.

As you let go and as your walls pulled on his length, he only got about two more thrust before he hit his own high. He was still in you for a moment and kissed you as the both were riding out your highs. He slowly pulled away from you and laid on his back next to you on the bed. Reaching up you ran your hands down your face as you were trying to stop panting.

“Wow,” was all you could think to say. You and Wonwoo over the last week had quite a bit of sex, and Wonwoo was beyond amazing in bed. He always went out of his way to make sure you orgasmed before him, but something with Mingyu was different and you liked that. You couldn’t even figure out what it was, but you knew this arrangement with Mingyu was an amazing idea.

“So, is that what you and Wonwoo have been doing for the last week?” he asked, resting his hand on his chest slowly calming down.

Silently you nodded.

“Damn, I have been missing out,” he leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

As you laid there in silence for a few moments with both you coming down from your highs. He leaned over and pulled your soft body next to his so you were curled up next to him.

You knew that you needed to make more rules about this whole situation, but at the moment you just seemed to be caught up in everything. You also didn’t know if either of the boys had a clue about how any of this would work out. You weren't sure how long you were going to be able to keep your feelings out of this either. In the last week you and Wonwoo had grown even closer than they already were. And you knew that was going to happen with Mingyu. Part of you couldn’t help but slightly worried.

“You're amazing (YN),” Mingyu whispered, bringing you out of your thoughts.

He leaned down and pressed his lips to the top of your head. “I can’t believe I’m sleeping with both you and Wonwoo.”

“I can't believe we’re both sleeping with the same girl either, but (YN) you’re a special girl,” he said, causing you to smile.

SEVEN: WERE NOT TALKING ABOUT THIS

A few days have passed since you had slept with Mingyu. Work had kept you so busy you hadn’t been able to see either of the boys. You couldn’t say you were exactly surprised when someone knocked on the door and see Wonwoo standing on the other side smiling while he was cleaning his glasses. You step aside and he follows you towards your small kitchen area.

“What’s up Wonwoo?” You asked looking around in your kitchen for you wine opener.

“You look hot today?” His warm eyes traveled up and down your soft body. “What’s under that tight skirt?” he asked suggestively.

You put your hand on your hip and looked over at him shaking your head, “please tell me you didn’t come over to my place the moment I walked in the door from work, to have sex with me?” You had a really rough day at work and at the moment just wanted to drink a whole bottle of wine and relax. The thought of having sex did sound relaxing but at the moment you wanted more than sex. You needed someone to listen to you complain and vent a little. You needed a friend more than anything.

“I’m offended,” he put his hand on his chest dramatically. Rolling your eyes, you turned back to look for the wine opener. He couldn’t help but say, “your ass looks great in that skirt.”

Turning back, you looked at him and glared, “you aren’t allowed to touch my ass after letting me fall in the shower.”

“Hey, what happened to, it’s okay Wonwoo, it's not your fault. It was my shampoo on the ground?” he asked with a little laugh. You didn’t say anything, you just continued to glare at him. “I can kiss it all better, and massage it if you want,” he winked, stepping towards you. Silently you just continued to watch him, it was moments like this that reminded you that maybe Wonwoo was too charming for his own good. Reaching up he pushed your hair behind your ear that had fallen in your face. Your glare softened as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to your cheek for a soft kiss. “(YN), I’m very sorry about dropping you on your ass in the shower.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you looked at him, “you’re forgiven.”

“Thanks baby girl,” he leaned forwards smirking and pressed his lips to your for a heated kiss.

“Why did you come over?” You asked, pulling away from him.

He shrugged his shoulders as he ran his hand up and down your side, “Mingyu wants us all to hang together.”

Your cheeks flushed lightly at the mention of Mingyu’s name. You hadn’t had a chance to talk to him really after sleeping together. You wondered if he was still okay with this whole situation. So far you had only had sex once, and you wanted it to happen again, but you weren't sure how he felt about it.

“So, how was Gyu in bed?” he asked, curious to how things went down. He couldn’t lie he had thought about what it was like between you and Mingyu. After he left you alone his mind quickly wandered about what was happening between his friends.

“We’re not talking about this,” you stepped away from him.

“Why not?” he asked, walking towards you.

“Because I just don’t want to talk about it. Up until having sex with you I didn’t even like saying the word sex out loud, and I don’t want to compare the two of you with either of you.”

“You’re being just like Mingyu,” he said, annoyed.

You turned and looked at him and was once again glaring, “of course you asked Mingyu.”

“Hey I just asked him if it went okay, and all he said was yes and left the room.”

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head at Wonwoo. You didn’t want to discuss the differences between them. Both experiences were very different, but also really good in their own way.

“I don’t want to talk about what sex is like with Mingyu, with you,” you sighed, turning back to the wine bottle.

He stood behind you closely with his hips pressed up against your ass and ran his hands up and down your sides slowly. As you pour yourself a glass of wine you grind your hips back knowing that Wonwoo might have actually come over to talk. But his body wanted something else too. You were pretty sure your body was starting to want something else too.

Pulling away you turned around and leaned against the counter holding your wine glass. Wonwoo stood right in front of you staring at you intently. Silently he watched her as you drank your wine. You sat the glass on the counter and reached up and rested your hand on his beautiful cheek right below his glasses. He licked his lips intently as he stared at you with lust filled eyes.

You leaned up and pressed your lips to his neck as you started to kiss your way up to his jaw. Biting his lip, he held back a moan.

“Baby, I didn’t actually come over for sex,” he groaned trying his hardest to behave. It wasn’t a lie he actually came over to talk.

You pulled away and looked at him, “are you sure about that Wonwoo?”

Slowly he shook his head knowing that he would never pass up the opportunity to have sex with you. Reaching down you grabbed his hand and led him toward your bedroom. He didn’t say a single word as you led the way. The moment you were in your bedroom Wonwoo untucked your blouse and left you in your bra and tight skirt that hugged your ass perfectly. He dropped to his knees and stared at you enjoying the view of your soft body on display for him. Reaching behind you he dragged the zipper down on the tight skirt. Slowly he dragged the skirt down your thighs. His mouth watered at the sight of your red bra and matching cheeky lace panties.

“Please tell me you bought this just for me” he reached up and ran his hands down your thighs.

“I bought it recently. I wouldn’t say I bought it just for you,” you giggled lightly. You hadn’t had a man look at you with the same look of awe like Wonwoo was doing right in the moment. You couldn’t lie the way he was looking at you was turning you on quite a bit.

“Baby girl, say you bought for me,” he groaned before pressing his lips to your lace covered mound.

You moaned as he moved your panties to the side and started sliding his fingers up and down your entrance, “I bought it just for you.”

“All of this just for me,” he stared up at you with hooded eyes as slid a finger into your already wet core.

You held eye contact as he continued to pump his fingers into your core. Whiny moans we’re passing your lips letting him know you’re close.

“I want to be inside you, baby,” he groaned, removing his fingers from you. You gasp at him pulling out as you’re on the brink of falling apart.

He stood up quickly and started removing his clothes. You took this as your cue and removed your bra and panties and crawled onto the bed. Wonwoo quickly grabbed a condom and rolled it down his length.

Laying on your bed you spread your legs inviting him in. Crawling across the bed he settled between your legs and leaning forward his lips connected to yours for a searing kiss. His hips thrust into yours slowly as your lips continued to move together. Your hands gripped his back as their hips kept meeting with each thrust. His lips moved from your lips down the base of your neck leaving a trail of wet kisses. Gently he nipped at the skin where your neck met your shoulder.

Your hands moved from his tone back down to his butt, gripping his skin trying to keep him close to you. With each thrust the coil in your stomach tightens more and more.

“I like when you wear your glasses when we fuck,” you moaned.

“I need them to see you,” he laughs before thrusting harder.

You moaned his name and let him know you were growing close to the edge. With his brown eyes locked on you he told you to let go. Rolling your head back you moaned his name as you hit your high.

Gasping as you rode out your high Wonwoo thrust into her a few more times before hitting his own high. His lips connected to yours as you shared a sloppy kiss. Rolling off of your soft body he laid on his side staring at you as you stared at the ceiling completely blissed out.

Reaching over he laced his fingers with yours and gently squeezed your hand. Looking over at him you couldn’t help but smile at him.

“You’re so pretty,” you whispered, still attempting to catch your breath.

The smile that was plastered across his face grew even more, “I don’t think a girl has ever told me I was pretty before.”

“Well more people should tell you how pretty you are, Jeon Wonwoo,” you smiled.

“(Y/n) you’re so beautiful,” he squeezed your hand once again.

You laid in your bed for about a half hour when Wonwoo left to go back to his and Mingyu’s apartment so you could get ready without being distracted.

EIGHT - WHO ARE YOU SLEEPING WITH?

Sitting at the kitchen table Wonwoo was telling some random story about Mingyu getting wasted in college. Mingyu looked down at the table with blushing cheeks, you couldn’t help but let out a little laugh at Mingyu embarrassment. Reaching under the table you squeezed Mingyu’s thigh capturing his attention. Looking off to the side he saw you smirking at him.

You both looked over at Wonwoo who was still talking about pouring Mingyu into bed when he was black out drunk.

“I think we have all had those moments,” you said, making Mingyu feel better. “One time when I was black out drunk I smacked my ex boyfriend.”

“I bet he deserved it,” Mingyu said, speaking up.

“Oh yeah the guy was an asshole,” you let out a soft laugh.

“What is the game plan for tonight?” Wonwoo asked.

“We could always go down to the bar tonight. A couple of the teachers at my school are going to be the bar down on second street,” you said.

“I would be down with going to the bar,” Mingyu said, placing his hand on top of yours under the table.

Shrugging his shoulders, Wonwoo said, “I’m down.”

-

The three of you caught a cab and headed down to the bar on second street. You walked inside and found a couple of the teachers that you worked with at a table against the wall. You headed over to the table all her coworkers were at. Wonwoo and Mingyu walked over to the bar to get drinks. Wonwoo leaned against the bar and watched as you were laughing about something across the room.

“Gyu, I think we’re in trouble when it comes to (YN).”

Mingyu nodded knowing that his friend was right. He knew deep down inside this couldn’t just be a casual thing.

“I don’t think I have ever known a girl like her,” Mingyu said. You were something else, you’re pretty, funny, nice, and neither of the boys could seem to get over it.

They grabbed their drinks and walked over to where you were with all your coworkers. Mingyu handed you a cranberry and vodka and put his arm over your shoulder as you introduced the boys to your coworkers. The group were all talking and laughing. Mingyu stayed by your side for a while before Wonwoo and two of her male co workers Chan and Seungkwan dragged him off to play a game of pool.

It wasn’t long before Wonwoo dragged Mingyu away from you to join the game. You watched for a short period before leaving the boys to their game.

Walking over you sat down in the booth next to your coworker Honey who was one of your good friends you worked with. Honey sipped her drink and looked over at you wondering what was going on.

“So are you sleeping with Mingyu who can’t keep his hands off you or are you sleeping with Wonwoo who can’t seem to keep his eyes off you?”

You sipped your drink wondering how you could get out of answering this question. You could easily just say nothing is going on. The thing is, you and honey were pretty close and you didn’t want to lie to her.

“I’m sleeping with both of them,” you said softly, hoping nobody other than honey would hear you.

Honey’s eyes went wide and she smacked your thigh in shock, “no fucking way?”

“Yep,” you said before taking another sip of your drink.

“So do you guys like have threesomes all the time?” Honey asked dying to know the dirty details.

Shaking your head you couldn’t believe you were actually having this conversation, “no we don’t have threesomes, but I’m sleeping with both of them.”

“Damn girl that’s pretty hot.”

Looking over to the pool table you found Mingyu holding the pool stick and staring at you. You gave him a smirk before looking back at honey. “It’s something I never thought I would do.”

“So are you worried about falling in love with one of them?” Honey asked.

Slowly you nodded, “I’m terrified that’s going to happen, but for some reason I think this is a good idea.” Looking back across the room you found Wonwoo now staring at you. “Why don’t we go watch the boys play pool?”

Honey and you walked over to where the boys were playing pool. Wonwoo wrapped his arm over your shoulder and held you close to his body.

Biting your lips you looked up at him smiling, he leaned over and pressed his lips to your temple and whispered in your ear, “you look really good.”

Since this had started between you and Wonwoo never acted like a couple other than when you were alone. You couldn’t lie you were a fan of the affection he was giving you. Mingyu was the one who had no issue holding your hand or touching you while they were out.

He pulled away from you when it was his turn and you walked over to Mingyu who was a couple feet away. You elbowed him gently and he smiled at you.

As the night went on you all had a blast hanging out with your coworkers. Walking into your apartment building. The boys walked you to your door and they both kissed the top of your head and wished you goodnight before they headed to their apartment. They walked inside and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

“I’m shocked you didn’t go into her apartment with her,” Mingyu said before taking a drink of water.

“I slept with her today when I went and saw her, I assumed you were going to go home with her. I thought you two might have some stuff you want to talk about,” Wonwoo said.

Knitting his eyebrows together, Mingyu stared at his best friend, “Wonwoo, are you sure this is a good idea?”

Shrugging he said, “it might not be, but it might be worth the risk.”

Wonwoo smiled and patted his best friend on the shoulder, “I’m going to bed, why don’t you go see her?”

Mingyu stood in the kitchen for a moment wondering if he should just go to bed. Letting out a heavy sigh he walked out of his apartment and walked over next door. Hesitantly he knocked. He stood at the door with his hands shoved in his jeans pockets. The door opened and you stood in front of him with her hair pulled away from your face and wearing nothing more than an oversized shirt and a pair of panties. Capturing his lip between his teeth he stared at you for a long moment silently.

“Hey Mingyu,” your voice was soft.

You hadn’t really spent any one on one time since you had slept together. You were surprised when you opened the door and found Mingyu standing on the other side. When you heard the knock on the door you expected to find Wonwoo on the other side.

“Are you okay with this happening again?” Mingyu asked, stepping towards you.

Silently you nodded.

Without another word he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. His strong hand rested on your cheek as your lips moved together. His other hand rested on your soft hip and walked you backward slowly inside your apartment. Pulling away from you he reached down and laced his fingers with yours and led you towards the bedroom.

Standing in your room he pulled his shirt off. You stripped off your shirt and pulled off your panties. You stood naked in front of him watching as he worked on taking his jeans off.

Once you were both naked your lips connected again for a heated kiss. Mingyu only pulled away to grab a condom.

Laying on your back you spread your legs as he sat on his hunches. He pumped his length a few times before lining up with your entrance. His hands gripped your hips as he moved. His thrust were slow but deliberate. Your hands gripped the bed sheets as you moaned loudly. Leaning forward he palmed one of your breasts as his lips connected to you. Moaning into his mouth as his thrust grew sloppier.

There were many differences between Wonwoo and Mingyu. One of them being Mingyu effortlessly made you feel delicate. When Wonwoo was with you, he made you feel like he couldn’t get enough of you.

Mingyu’s soft lips moved against yours as his fingers glided across your delicate skin.

Slow thrust earned echoing moans. The tightening coil in your stomach had you desperate. “I’m close,” you moan, reaching between you. Desperately you started to touch your clit.

He pulled his lips away from you and stared into your eyes as the both you were panting as both your their highs were near.

It only took a few more thrust before you fell apart together. One hand gripped your blush colored sheets while the other tangled in his dark hair.

His forehead rests against yours slowly opening his eyes. Pulling away he couldn’t help but smile. Pulling away from you he quickly discarded his used condom.

As you both rode out your highs you laid curled up against him with your head rested on his chest as his strong hand stroked your side. Mingyu had a way of making you feel safe.

“Are you allowed to spend the night?” You didn’t want him to leave.

“I’m not sure exactly what the rules are here,” he leaned down and pressed his lips to the top of your head.

“Stay the night please, I want to cuddle,” you whispered looking up at him. You weren’t ready to say goodbye to him.

He nodded and smiled, “alright I’ll stay.”

NINE: THE SUNSETS IN YOUR EYES

-Four Months Later-

Mingyu was away for the weekend on a business trip and you had spent basically the whole day with Wonwoo. You went to your favorite diner that was down the street and got breakfast together and on the way back they picked up some coffee to take back to the apartment.

It was a calm summer afternoon as you were sitting in Wonwoo and Mingyu’s living room. Wonwoo was relaxing on the tan colored sofa that was sat across from the tv with his legs kicked up on the coffee table. You were laying down comfortably on the couch with your head resting on Wonwoo's lap. Your bright eyes were fixed on the tv that was playing the third episode in a row of How I Met Your Mother. Wonwoo was half paying attention to the TV while he was partially focused on twirling pieces of your hair around his fingers. You have been in this position since Wonwoo had turned on the first episode and you hadn’t really moved other than for you to take a quick trip to the bathroom.

“Do people actually like Ted Mosby?” Wonwoo asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had formed between you.

“I mean I personally don’t,” you say with a soft laugh. “I mean he’s kind of an asshole, and pretty selfish.”

“He’s really selfish,” he said.

“I mean lets be honest, why would you be with Ted when Marshall is there,” you said looking up at him.

“You’re right Marshall is pretty awesome,” he said before he leaned down and kissed your nose gently.

“Are you annoyed by me laying on you yet?” You asked rolling over so that you were laying on your back staring up at him.

Shaking his head he let out a soft chuckle, “no.”

“Mingyu is supposed to be home Thursday so we can finally have another wine Friday,” he said as twirled another piece of your hair around his finger again.

“Well you two might have to start wine Friday without me.” He knit his eyebrows confused by your comment. “It’s my sister’s birthday that day so I won’t be home until after nine,” you reached up and rested your hand on his cheek.

“You don’t talk about your family much,” he said, realizing that you were never the type of person to talk about yourself too often. “Can you tell me about them?” He asked.

“Well my parents got divorced when I was eleven and there’s not much to tell about my father. He made it clear when he left that he didn’t want much to do with my mom, my sister and I. My mom is a strong woman. She raised us as a single parent until I was about sixteen when she started dating my now step dad Jack. He’s a nice guy who always treated my sister and I really well. Chaewon is two years younger than me and Jack is really the only father figure she’s known.”

Reaching up he rested his hand on top of your, “is your sister anything like you?”

“My sister is way more confident than me, she’s also a spitfire according to my mother,” you said with a soft laugh. You tried to play it off as a joke, but you had some insecurities when it came to being compared to your little sister. You loved her sister dearly and would do anything for her, but you had grown up hearing you were cute, while everyone talked about how beautiful your sister was.

“(YN) what do you mean? You are confident as hell?” He asked.

You shook your head, “I’ve never been comfortable in my own skin, and that probably has to do with the fact that I have been compared to my sister almost all my life.”

“I would bet all the money in the world that your sister has nothing on you. You are one of the most beautiful people I have ever met inside and out, and I’m barely able to keep my hands off your beautiful body.”

Your cheeks burned and suddenly you felt like crying because of his kind words. You had never dated anyone who went out of their way to tell you how beautiful they thought you were. Other than Mingyu who would also reassure you that you’re beautiful.

“You haven’t met my sister,” you whispered.

“I don’t have to,” he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours for a soft kiss.

It was at times like this you couldn’t understand how you got lucky enough to have both Mingyu and Wonwoo in her life. For some reason Wonwoo seemed to know just the right things to say to you, and how to push away all your insecurities. You rolled onto your side to look over at the TV that was playing another episode of How I Met Your Mother. Wonwoo rested his hand on your arm and gently started rubbing it as his eyes stayed trained on you. He wasn’t even paying a little bit of attention to what was on TV. Biting his bottom lip he couldn’t help the feeling in his chest as he watched you.

“Wonwoo thank you,” you whispered as your eyes brimmed with tears.

“For what?” He asked with his eyes still locked on the side of your head.

“For letting me know that I matter,” you whispered with a shaky voice.

“You’ve always mattered to me, and you’ll always matter to me no matter what.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to the side of your head. This was the first time that he had seen you this vulnerable and he wanted you to realize how special you are to him.

You laid in the same spot for another episode, you tried to focus on the episode and shake away the feeling in your chest while Wonwoo couldn’t even tell you what was going on in the episode. His eyes barely left the girl who was still laying in his lap. Before you knew it both your stomachs were growling letting you know it was time to eat dinner.

Moving off of Wonwoo’s lap you sat next to him on the couch and looked over at him with a soft smile on your face, “I don’t know about you but I’m starving.”

Normally Wonwoo would have made a joke about being starving for you, but there was a shift between you after your conversation. “Are we thinking we should take out, or maybe we could go downtown and get dinner together?”

“Are you asking me on a date?” You joked.

He shrugged his shoulders, “would you actually go on a date with me?”

Your eyes were wide as you stared at him, “is that allowed?”

“Why not?”

A smile formed on your face, “I would like that.”

“Okay let’s go then,” he stood up and held his hand out.

Taking his hand you stood up, “should I change?”

Shaking his head he led her towards the door where their shoes were. You both put on your shoes and Wonwoo led you out of the apartment. You walked down the street as the sun was beginning to go down hand in hand. Wonwoo kept looking over at you and he couldn’t help but see how beautiful you looked during golden hour. You looked as if you were glowing, especially as you wore a smile on your face.

You walked about a mile before you stopped in front of a café that was across the street from a park that had a beautiful view of the sunset.

“How about we get some food to go and sit at the park?” He asked.

“That would be wonderful.”

You walked inside and ordered some sandwiches and salad and quickly headed across the street and found a park bench that was near the edge of a pond. You sat next to each other watching the sunset eating. Wonwoo couldn’t help but keep looking over at you as you seemed focused on the sunset.

“Nobody has ever taken me out on a sunset picnic before?”

“Something tells me you have been dating the wrong men,” he reached over and rested his hand on your thigh.

“Before I started this whole thing with you and Mingyu I didn’t exactly have men bang on my door to take me out let alone sleep with me.” You paused and looked over at Wonwoo, “I took a really big leap out of my comfort zone starting this whole thing with you guys. With me sex and feeling have always gone hand in hand, and honestly keeping my feelings out of this is hard.”

Wonwoo closed his eyes, shaking the feeling in his chest. He was afraid to speak, that if he opened his mouth he might say something that he probably shouldn’t say. “I know I was probably crazy to agree to start this whole thing with both you boys, but it’s done nothing but help my confidence.

Looking straight towards the sun that was setting he was fighting the urge to say something that he shouldn’t say to you, “I feel like I’m a different person when it comes to you.”

Glancing over at him you wondered exactly what he meant by that, “is that a good thing or bad thing?”

“It’s a good thing,” he smiled, staring at the sunset.

“Do you ever look back at things that have happened and wished you could change them?” You asked, still staring at him.

Looking at you he stared into your bright eyes, “all the goddamn time.” In that moment there were a lot of things he wished he could have done differently. He wished he would have acted on his attraction for you long ago. He wished that he could have kept his heart out of this, and he wished that he wouldn’t have let his best friend get involved in this. “What would you change?” He asked.

“I would have told myself long ago that I need to love myself, and probably would have kissed you long before our first solo wine night,” you said with a soft laugh.

You stayed at the park until the sun was fully set and walked back to the apartment building with Wonwoo’s arm thrown over your shoulder holding you close while your arm was wrapped around his waist. Everything between you felt so easy, and Wonwoo knew that was for a reason. As they got to your floor of both of your apartments you went to walk off to your apartment when Wonwoo reached down and grabbed your hand. “stay the night?”

A crooked smile formed on your face as you nodded. Wonwoo led you into his apartment and off towards his room. Once in his room you stood at the edge of the bed wondering if this was when he was going to work on seducing you. He never asked you to stay the night unless you planned on having sex. Wonwoo walked off to his dresser and pulled out your pajama shirt you had left in his room a few weeks ago. You reached out and grabbed it and watched as he removed his shirt and jeans. Once he was down to his boxers you waited for him to remove them but was surprised when he reached into his dresser and pulled out a pair of gray lounge pants and put them on. You stared at him, still completely dressed, almost confused.

He walked over and pressed his lips to your temple and said, “I need a cuddle buddy tonight.” He walked over and sat down on the bed.

You removed your sundress and bra and pulled on your sleep shirt Wonwoo had given you. In nothing but an oversized shirt and panties you crawled into bed next to Wonwoo. Laying on your side you looked over at him knowing that you felt something more for him then you should. You were in love with him and you were a fool for feeling that way.

Wonwoo laid down and reached over pulling you close to him. Your soft body curled up against him. With your head resting on his chest it didn’t take long before you were sound asleep. It took Wonwoo a little longer to fall asleep as he held you. He couldn’t help the sense of guilt he had as you laid in bed together.

TEN: I MISSED YOU

As the sun was rising Mingyu walked into the apartment. He peeked his head into Wonwoo’s rooming expecting to find the room empty, but was surprised when he found you lying in bed sound asleep fully dressed with Wonwoo. Quietly he closed the door and headed off to his room. As he laid in bed he couldn’t help but be a little jealous of his best friend.

After waking up to find that Mingyu was home from his trip you had breakfast with him and Wonwoo and headed home to get ready for the day. You barely made it into your living room when Mingyu knocked on your door.

Walking into your apartment he stood there for a moment before leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours for a needy kiss. The whole time Mingyu was away he thought of you often. Ever since you had first slept together you never seemed to leave his mind.

“Did you maybe want a cup of coffee?” You asked.

He nodded his head and followed you to the kitchen area. Mingyu sat at the kitchen table as you worked on making a pot of coffee. He loved watching you move around the kitchen. You were dressed in her usual sundress and barefoot. You were humming something as you moved around.

“How was your trip?” You asked as you brought two cups of coffee over to the table.

“It went great,” he smiled, taking the cup from your hand. “What did you and Wonwoo do while I was gone?”

You took a sip of your coffee and sat your cup down before saying, “we just hung out and watched How I Met Your Mother.”

You couldn’t help the smile that formed on your face as you thought about the day you had spent with Wonwoo.

“That sounds like a lot more fun, then sitting in a meeting like I was doing,” Mingyu said as he slowly brought his cup up towards his mouth.

“Well we missed you.”

Mingyu had a feeling in his gut that maybe you didn’t miss him as much as you thought you did. He knew that you cared about him, but he also knew that you cared about Wonwoo a lot too.

“I missed you too (YN).”

You sat there drinking your coffee talking more about Mingyu’s trip. You were really enjoying your time you were getting to spend with him. Walking your empty cups to the sink you turned and said, “I was just getting ready to take a bath.”

“Do you mind if I join?”

“Of course not.”

Taking his hand you led him off to your room. Standing by your dresser you slowly started to strip away your clothes. Standing there naked in front of him you gave him a small smile before heading off into the bathroom. Mingyu removed his own clothing and then followed you into the bathroom. He found you filling the tub up with warm water and pouring bath salts in vanilla scented soap.

Mingyu stepped forward and slowly got into the warm water. You stepped into the water and leaned back so your soft body was pressed against Mingyu’s toned body. Your head was resting against his shoulder with your eyes closed enjoying the feeling of his closeness. Mindlessly he drew circles on your thigh. You felt so peaceful leaning against him. Biting your bottom lip, you smiled as he softly said, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

You had spent all of the day before with Wonwoo, and that day had left you feeling very confused. But you couldn’t lie, you missed Mingyu quite a bit while he was gone. Over the last few weeks you had to constantly remind yourself not to catch feelings for either of the men you were sleeping with. After the day you spent with Wonwoo yesterday you weren’t sure your heart could stay out of this.

They spent about ten minutes in that bath before Mingyu’s lips moved to the base of your neck distracting you from your thoughts as he started placing wet kisses across your skin. A moan passed your lips as his hands moved up and gently started to massage your breast. Leaning your head back you closed your eyes taking in the feeling of his hands on your skin. Slowly you rolled your hips back against Mingyu's growing length. Biting your bottom lip you held back a loud moan.

“I need you,” he whispered in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

Silently you stood up and got out of the bath. You reached for a towel and turned to watch Mingyu get out of the tub, you could tell by his growing erection that he wanted you. Standing in the bathroom you dried off with lust filled eyes staring at each other.

“You are so pretty,” he walked towards you and pushed a piece of your wet hair behind your ear.

Taking your hand he led her off to the bedroom. With his lips pressed to your he walked you backwards until the back of your legs hit the bed. Slowly he leaned you back and you laid on the bed staring at him with hungry eyes. Crawling onto the bed he pressed his lips to yours once again and your lips moved together. Your hands were wrapped around his neck. Holding him close to you as their lips danced. He left you with a feeling of butterflies as his lips dragged from your mouth down to your neck. Closing your eyes you bit your bottom lip attempting to not moan.

Pushing on his chest and he removed his lips from you and looked up at you with lust filled eyes. His lips were parted as he stared at you silently. You took a moment to just take in his closeness. Your hand moved from his chest up to his neck. The world seemed to stilled for a moment as you stared at each other. Your eyes were locked on each other for a long moment.

“You're so amazing,” his voice was low.

You paused for a moment before saying, “how do you always know the right thing to say?”

“I always just tell you what I honestly think,” he leaned forward and pressed his lips to your forehead. His lips stayed there for a long moment and you closed your eyes taking in his closeness.

Pulling away from you he rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling for a moment before he looked over at you who was staring at him. You moved and crawled over to him and sat on his thighs. Your finger drew soft circles on your chest. He couldn’t help but smile at you.

“Baby you’re so pretty.”

Leaning down you pressed wet kisses across his collar bones and moved down his chest. As your lips moved down stomach he reached to stop you before his lips could get anywhere near his length.

“Lay back down baby,” he said lowly.

Slowly you crawled off of him and laid back down on the bed. He sat up and reached into the nightstand to grab a foil packet before moving so he was sitting on his hunched between your legs. His hands moved to part your thighs even more. Leaning forward he pressed his lips to yours for a sear kissing. Pulling his lips away from your he gave you a lopsided grin as he tore the foil packet open. He rolled the rubber down his length. His hands gripped your soft sides as he slowly slid into you. A low gasp pasted your lips as he filled you fully.

He leaned forward so he was resting on his arms hovering over her. Your leg was swung over his waist holding him close to her as his hips did slow thrust. Your hands held his face as your eyes stayed locked onto each other’s. Your bodies moved together in perfect sync.

The coil in you stomach tightened as he leaned forward and rested his forehead against your. Low groans past his lips as his hips pick up pace slightly. Through parted lips soft moans escape. Little was said between you as their bodies moved together.

As your hips continued to meet with everything slow, Mingyu pushed you closer and closer to the edge. He dropped down to his elbows so he was closer to you. Leaning down he pressed his lips to yours for a sloppy kiss pushing you over the edge. A gasp passed your lips as you rolled your head back. Mingyu got a few thrust in before he hit his own high. His body was clasped on top of you, his head was resting on your breast. Your hands reached up and you massaged his scalp enjoying how close you were.

They laid like that for a few minutes before Mingyu rolled off of you and disposed of the condom. You laid on your bed, both of you staring at the ceiling quietly. The longer you laid there the heavier Mingyu’s chest seemed to feel. Things between the two of you felt different and Mingyu knew you needed to talk about it.

“(Y/N),” his voice was shaky and unsure.

“Yeah?” You looked over at him and gave him a soft smile.

“Do you love Wonwoo?” Mingyu needed to know. He had noticed how close you had grown and could tell by the way that Wonwoo looked at you and how he talked about you that Wonwoo felt more for you then he was willing to admit.

You took a deep breath trying to figure out what exactly you were feeling, “I think so.”

Your eyes suddenly started to brim with tears. Mingyu nodded his head knowing that all good things had to come to an end.

“He’s a really great guy,” Mingyu said.

You rolled onto your side so you were facing Mingyu who was still laying on his back staring up at the ceiling.

“I think I love you too,” your voice sounded desperate.

“I think I got involved in something I knew was going to hurt all three of us. I was selfish, and I should have just let you and Wonwoo keep this up. If I wouldn’t have never gotten involved you wouldn’t have to sound so guilty about being in love with Wonwoo.”

The room suddenly felt as if it was spinning and you felt sick to your stomach. Warm tears started to slide down your cheeks.

“Mingyu.”

“(YN), we knew when this started somehow someone was going to end up hurt. I think that Wonwoo and you could have something special,” he reached over and laced his fingers with your and gently squeezed your hand.

“Are you ending things with me?” You asked as tears slid down your cheek.

Slowly he nodded his head, “(Y/N) I think I love you too and honestly I can't keep my feelings out of this.”

You took a deep breath as tears continued to slide down you cheek, “We can work this out.”

“(YN) we can’t, if we don’t stop now someone is really going to get hurt.”

“Mingyu but this hurts,” you begged. You weren’t ready to say goodbye to the man that was laying in the bed next to you. Even with all of your confused feelings you knew that she cared deeply about Mingyu. Even though you were trying to deny it. You knew deep down inside you loved Mingyu.

“I know this hurts, it’s hurting me too. I just want you to be happy, and I want Wonwoo to be happy too,” he leaned forward and pressed his lips to your forehead.

“I don’t think anyone gets a happy ending here,” you said softly as he started crawling out of bed.

“(YN) this is for the better.”

He got dressed and walked back over to the bed where you were sitting wrapped up in the blankets watching him with tear filled eyes. You weren't ready for this to be over and neither was Mingyu, but he was trying to do the right thing.

Standing next to the bed the twisting guilt filled feeling is almost too much to handle. His sad eyes stared at you for a moment before he pressed his lips to the top of your head.

“No matter what I want you to know that I still think you’re the most amazing woman ever.” That was his goodbye, he was leaving the girl he fell for trying his hardest to be selfless.

His feet carried him as he left the apartment and headed back over to his and Wonwoo’s place. Mingyu walked straight over to Wonwoo’s room. He found his best friend sitting on his bed with his laptop. Wonwoo looked up at the sound of Mingyu lightly knocking on the wall.

“What’s up?” Wonwoo asked.

“I ended things with (Y/N).”

Wonwoo’s eyes went wide as he tried to process what Mingyu had just said to him.

“What?”

“It’s clear you’re in love with her, and to be honest I think I am too. I want you to have a real chance with her.”

Wonwoo knit his eyebrows together as he stared at him, “Mingyu I don’t love her.”

“We both know that’s not true,” Mingyu said leaning against the door frame.

Wonwoo stared at his friend, unsure of what he should even say to him. Over the last few weeks each time he saw you he seemed to grow even more confused on what exactly he was feeling. He had told himself over and over again that he wasn’t allowed to fall in love, but now that his best friend was standing in his room telling him how he felt he wasn’t sure if he could lie to himself any longer.

ELEVEN: ALL IS WELL THAT ENDS WELL

It had only been a day since Mingyu had ended things with you, and in that time Wonwoo had kept to himself. He was completely unsure of what he was feeling or even what he should do. He stood in the shower just blankly staring at the wall, as a million things went through his mind. He thought back to the times that he had showered with you. And how you would stand there talking while he was washing your hair. He thought of how your bright eyes would stare back at him. You always seemed to show exactly what you were thinking.

Jeon Wonwoo had never been in love, and he wasn’t sure if the stabbing feeling in his chest was the feeling of guilt of betraying his best friend or the fact that he was indeed in love with a girl next door. He felt so guilty for hurting Mingyu, he knew when he started this with you that Mingyu liked you.

The cool water continued to fall on him as his eyes looked down at his feet. Reaching forward he turned the shower off and wrapped a towel around his waist.

Sitting on the edge of his bed he placed his face in his hands and let out a heavy sigh. He felt sick to his stomach as he started getting dressed.

Once he was fully dressed he walked into the living room to find Mingyu sitting on the couch with a sad look on his face. Mingyu looked over at him with his sad eyes and attempted to give him a smile.

“Where are you going?” Mingyu asked.

“I need to talk to (Y/N),” just saying your name made him feel guilty.

“Wonwoo, she's a good girl and you could have something great.”

Mingyu was trying to encourage Wonwoo to continue his relationship, but he knew Wonwoo wouldn’t listen to him. He could tell by the look on his best friend's face that he was sad and riddled with guilt. Mingyu didn’t want Wonwoo to feel guilty. He didn’t feel like Wonwoo had done anything wrong. It wasn’t his fault that you had fallen for him, and that Mingyu had fallen for you.

Wonwoo nodded before heading out of the apartment. Walking next door he took a deep breath before he knocked on the door. As you opened the front door he could tell by your puffy eyes that you had been crying. You gave him a sad smile before stepping to the side.

You had a feeling that Wonwoo didn’t come over to make things better. Walking into your apartment he followed you into your kitchen. Silently you poured him a cup of coffee and sat down next to him.

For a solid two minutes neither of you said anything to each other, you just silently drank your coffee. The sound of you clearing your throat broke the screaming silence.

“I’m assuming Mingyu told you he ended things with me?” Your hand clutched your large coffee cup. Silently he nodded his head unsure of even what to say to you. “He asked me if I loved you,” you felt sick thinking about the night before.

“What did you say?” Wonwoo asked, finally speaking for the first time.

“I told him I think I do,” tears once again started to brim your eyes as you confessed your feelings.

He looked down at the table as if he was suddenly afraid to look at the girl in front of him. Placing his elbow on the table he rested his face in hand and took a deep breath. He was so unsure of everything he was feeling.

“I think it’s pretty obvious you don’t feel the same way,” tears started slowly sliding down your cheek. His silence was heartbreaking. You had managed to fall in love with two men, one who wasn’t going to ever love you back and one who loved you but didn’t want to be with you.

“Mingyu is my best friend, and the closest thing to a brother that I have, and I hurt him,” he sighed, feeling guilty that he hurt the most important person in his life. “I have gone my whole life from the moment I met him doing everything I can to be the best friend I can be, and I fucked up.”

You closed your eyes and winced knowing that you were the reason he fucked up.

“I’m sorry (YN),” his eyes finally looked up to see your teary eyes.

Tears slid down your cheeks, you opened your mouth to speak and suddenly nothing came out. You didn’t even know what you should say to Wonwoo.

“How much I want to keep things going between us, I can’t do that to Mingyu. He means too much to me to do anything that could hurt him more than I already did,” he reached up with a shaky hand and pushed away the tears that kept sliding down your cheek.

“Okay,” your voice was low and shaky.

Wonwoo pulled his hands away from you and stood up and stared at you for a long moment. Biting his bottom lip he held back telling you that he didn’t want to do this. Walking out of your apartment he couldn’t let himself look back to see you crying.

Shutting the door he took a deep breath and leaned against the door. He wanted desperately to run back inside and tell you he didn’t want to end things but he couldn’t do that.

Sitting there at your kitchen table you couldn’t hold back the sob that broke in your chest. You knew when Wonwoo came to your door that you had not only lost Mingyu, but you were going to lose Wonwoo too. Closing your eyes you tried to hold back the tears that just kept falling.

Walking off into you bed she crawled under the cover and just laid there crying until the evening. You hated feeling like this, but you couldn’t help it.

Without a second thought she walked over to your closet and pulled out her overnight bag and worked on packing enough clothes for a week. Zipping your bag up you headed out of your apartment with your purse on one shoulder and your duffle bag on the other. Entering the car garage you went to your car and tossed your bag in the backseat.

You drove the two hour drive up north to where your sister lived. You didn’t bother texting or calling her. You just knocked on your sister's door. It was eight at night and your sister Chaewon was very confused when she found her older sister standing on the other side of the door with puffy eyes.

“(YN)?”

“I got my heart broken,” you cried as she dropped your duffle bag on the floor.

Reaching forward your sister pulled you into her chest and rubbed you back as you continued to cry. Can’t remember the last time you cried this much.

“Who broke your heart?” Chaewon asked.

You hadn’t told your sister about what had been going on with Wonwoo and Mingyu. You hadn’t really told anyone what was going on with the boys. You followed Chaewon inside to the kitchen where your sister made you a cup of tea, and then you went on to tell her all about Mingyu and Wonwoo and what happened.

Chaewon couldn’t lie, everything you told her seemed crazy, but she was never going to judge you for sleeping with both men, or falling in love with both of them.

“Why didn’t you and Wonwoo keep things up?” Chaewon was confused on why things needed to end between you.

“Because he didn’t want to hurt Mingyu more than he did,” you sighed knowing that you had gotten between two best friends that were basically brothers.

“I was so stupid I needed to keep my heart out of this, and for some reason I couldn’t help but fall for both of them,” she cursed. “If I could of just kept this strictly about sex this wouldn’t of been a problem, but I couldn’t keep my stupid heart out of this.”

“Sweetie, anyone would have fallen in love with them.”

You let out a heavy, “the last week with Wonwoo things had just seemed different. We were spending more time together and it wasn’t all about us having sex. I literally stay over with him just to cuddle and sleep together. We didn’t even have sex.”

“It sounds like Wonwoo might have feelings for you too,” Chaewon said.

You shrugged, “I thought he might, but from what both Wonwoo and Mingyu had told me Wonwoo doesn’t do relationships. He doesn’t exactly believe in love, he is the kind of guy that just likes to have sex.”

You couldn’t help but feel even more stupid, you knew how Wonwoo was but it didn’t stop you from feeling getting involved.

“Why don’t you stay here for a while. You don’t have to worry about going back to school for another month. You can totally stay here the whole time if you want,” Chaewon said, knowing that you couldn’t just go back to seeing your neighbors every day.

“I can’t stay here for a whole month, but I can stay for a week. I packed enough to be gone for a week,” you sighed. You knew sooner than later you were going to have to see Mingyu and Wonwoo again, but you needed at least a week to try to move on.

“That works perfectly,” Chaewon smiled.

Chaewon helped you move your stuff into the guest room. You took a shower and then went into the kitchen with your sister to make some cookies together before you decided to eat those cookies with some popcorn while watching a movie together. You sat on the couch together watching St. Elmo’s Fire, both of their favorite movies from the eighties. This was some much needed time that you needed with your sister.

TWELVE: TIME TO HEAL

When morning came around you sat at the kitchen table with your sister as she was making you banana pancakes. You had a cup of coffee in your hand as you said, “what’s the plan for today?”

“Hyungwon wanted to come over tonight for dinner if you’re fine with that?”

Hyungwon was Chaewon's boyfriend that you had always loved. You thought Hyungwon was the best possible guy for your sister. Chaewon was a kind and big hearted person, and Hyungwon was the exact same way. He would do anything in the world to make Chaewon happy.

“Of course Hyun can come over, but tell him he has to bring me my favorite Apple pie from the diner by his house,” you let out a soft laugh.

“You know he’ll bring that in a heartbeat for you,” Chaewon said as she put a plate with a stack of banana pancakes down.

“Did you tell him why I’m here?” You were curious to know if Chaewon had told Hyungwon about your relationship with both Mingyu and Wonwoo.

Chaewon shook her head as she sat across from you, “I just told him you got your heartbroken by your neighbor, I didn’t give him any details.”

You couldn’t help but feel slightly relieved, you didn’t really want everyone knowing about your relationship with both boys.

You ate breakfast together and then sat in the living room together watching your favorite show to watch together. You had a bowl of popcorn sitting between you as Chaewon clicked play on the next episode. Chaewon was the perfect distraction to keep your mind off of Wonwoo and Mingyu.

When it got closer to dinner time, Hyungwon arrived with an apple pie from your favorite diner. You sat at the kitchen table eating a slice of pie as Chaewon and Hyungwon worked on cooking dinner. Hyungwon had asked you how you were doing but didn’t ask you anything about getting your heart broken.

You all ate dinner together and then decided to watch a movie together. Hyungwon and Chaewon curled up on the couch together and you sat on the other side of the couch wrapped in a blanket. They decided to watch Catch Me If You Can. As soon as the movie ended, you headed off to your room to give Chaewon and Hyungwon some alone time.

As you laid in bed you couldn’t help but miss the boys. You had rarely slept alone much since everything had started up with the boys. The spot on the bed next to you felt cold and empty. You fought back tears as you closed your eyes before falling asleep.

THIRTEEN: I’M REALLY SORRY

You had been gone for a week and Wonwoo was very aware of it. He tried to not think about you constantly but his mind wandered back to you constantly. Everything seemed to remind him of you. He also noticed that Mingyu seemed to be distracting himself with work. Mingyu was sitting at the kitchen table with his laptop working on something, and Wonwoo stood in front of the fridge blankly staring inside, not even sure what he was looking for.

Mingyu looked over at his best friend, noticing that he was staring at nothing. He let out a heavy sigh shaking his head.

Mingyu was also very aware of the fact that you hadn’t been home in a week. He was also aware of the fact that his best friend seemed completely out of it. Mingyu knew that even if Wonwoo didn’t want to admit it he was pretty heartbroken. When Mingyu ended things with you he didn’t expect for all three of you to end up heartbroken. He thought if he stepped away that maybe the two of you would get together and not have to worry about his feelings.

Wonwoo walked off to his room not bothering to get anything from the fridge. Mingyu wasn’t sure what to do but he couldn’t deal with Wonwoo moping around.

-

You had arrived back home and you couldn’t lie you weren’t ready to see the boys. Walking up to your front door you unlocked the door and looked over when you heard your name. You glanced over to see Mingyu leaving his apartment. You both stood still staring at each other for a long moment. Mingyu went to step forward to talk to you but he stopped because he wasn’t sure what exactly to say to you.

His sad eyes locked on your sad ones. He could tell that you were as heartbroken as Wonwoo. Your bright eyes lack the gleam they normally had. Biting his bottom lip, he thought of what he should even say to you.

He wished that he could tell you that Wonwoo was miserable without you. Hell he wished that he could tell you, he was miserable without you. He knew he lost that privilege when he left you. He wished that Wonwoo hadn’t left you too. He never intended for Wonwoo to end things with you. He knew in his heart you had fallen in love with Wonwoo and he couldn’t blame you. Mingyu also knew that you had extremely strong feelings for him even if you weren’t in love. He felt like he had been put in a rock in a hard place. He had managed to put himself in a love triangle without meaning to.

“(YN) where did you go?” He finally spoke up and walked towards you.

You stood still at your door not even sure what you should say to Mingyu. You hadn’t spoken to him since he broke your heart that night. Just seeing him brought back a lot of emotions.

“I went to see my sister,” your voice was soft.

Mingyu took another step towards you and stopped a couple feet away from you. He wished things between you could go back to normal but he knew he was the one who had ruined everything.

“(YN) I’m really sorry.”

“Mingyu it’s not your fault it’s mine,” you reached for the door and opened it.

“I never meant for things to be like this.”

You had planned to walk inside but you stopped and stared at Mingyu for a long moment.

“Mingyu, let's be honest, if you didn’t end things when you did, we were both going to get even more hurt then we are now. How much I wish it wasn’t it true I don’t think I could have ever kept my heart out of this,” you let out a sigh as your eyes brimmed with tears. “Mingyu you mean a lot to me and I think you will always have a piece of my heart.” He walked towards you and stopped right in front of you.

Reaching forward he rested his hand on your cheek. He stepped closer so he was a couple inches away from you. He wished that he could tell you he wanted to take it all back but he couldn’t.

“(YN) you’ll always have a piece of mine too. I know we’re both hurt, but I need to have you in my life. Even if we’re just friends. I also need you to not give up on Wonwoo. He’s confused and he’s trying to be a good friend. I need you both to know there are no hard feelings on my part. I want you both to be happy.”

A soft smile spread across his face. You looked up at him and gave him a sad smile.

“Why can’t I be happy with you?”

“Because I know you can make Wonwoo happy,” he sighs.

“I don’t think he feels the same way for me that I feel for him, and one day I’ll be okay with that.”

“(YN)-” he wished he could convince Wonwoo to get his head out of his ass but he didn’t know if he could.

“It’s okay Mingyu,” you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his for a soft kiss.

“We were great while it lasted,” you stepped away from his touch.

“(YN) I’m here if you ever need anything and I would really love for us to be friends again.”

“Mingyu, I want more than friendship. I'm still trying to work out how to tell myself we can’t be together.”

You walked inside and Mingyu was left standing outside your apartment, wishing he could fix things between you.

Mingyu stood outside your apartment feeling more heartbroken than before. He sighed knowing that he needed to convince Wonwoo to fix things between you.

He walked back into his apartment and poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table waiting for Wonwoo to get home from work. He needed to convince him to get his head out of his ass and fix things with you immediately. In all the years he had been friends with Wonwoo he hadn’t ever seen him so broken up over ending things with a girl.

When Wonwoo finally got home from work he stepped into the kitchen and found his best friend sitting at the kitchen table waiting for him.

“What’s up Mingyu,” he said as he walked over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water.

“Wonwoo, we need to talk,” Mingyu said, speaking up.

Wonwoo knit his eyebrows together and gave him a confused look before sitting down across from Mingyu. He opened the bottle and took a drink of the water.

“You need to talk to (YN),” Mingyu said, jumping to the point of not bothering to dance around things.

Wonwoo closed his eyes taking a deep breath before he looked down at the table with a guilty expression. He slowly shook his head, “I can’t”

“Wonwoo, I don’t think you realize that you’re in love with her. In all the years I have known you I haven’t ever seen you broken up over someone,” Mingyu stated, attempting to get Wonwoo to realize how he felt.

“Mingyu I don’t love her, love isn’t real.”

As long as they had known each other Wonwoo had always told Mingyu he didn’t believe in love. Even after his high girlfriend cheated on him, he told Mingyu he wasn’t heartbroken because according to him love wasn’t real.

“You might not think love is real, but what you feel for her is love. You aren’t the only one completely torn up over this. I talked to (YN) today and she’s just as messed up as you. Hell, I'm just as much of a mess as you are.”

Wonwoo stood up and groaned as he pushed his fingers through his hair, “Mingyu it’s pretty clear you’re in love with her, so why don’t you get together with her? Like make her your girlfriend and have something with her that is something more then sex.”

Mingyu shook his head and stood up, “Wonwoo I talked to her and it’s clear she loves you. I can’t just date her. I already made the mistake of letting her go.”

Wonwoo paced in front of Mingyu for a moment silently. It was almost as if he was at a complete loss of what to even say.

“Fix it then Mingyu!” He shouted at his best friend.

He slammed his hand on the table, “I can’t fix it, she was yours first. I don’t get to be happy here.”

“Mingyu, she was never mine. She doesn’t just love me. Why are you dismissing her feelings for you?” He pushed his fingers through his dark hair. He took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes for a moment.

“Because even though I love her, Wonwoo. I love you too. You’re the closest thing I have to a brother and you mean too much to me,” tears brim his eyes as he looks up at his best friend.

“How do we fix this?” Wonwoo sits down sighing. “Why do we both have to walk away?”

“Wonwoo, do you love her?”

“You think I love her?” He looked up at Mingyu.

“I think we both love her,” Mingyu sighs.

Slowly Wonwoo nodded his head, “I think I do love her, and I know that she loves both of us.” The world felt like it was spinning sideways to him. “Mingyu if I fix things with her. Could you fix things with her?”

“I don’t know if she would take me back,” Mingyu reaches up, pushing away his tears. “I hope you realize just because we tell her we love her doesn’t mean she’ll just want something casual again. She deserves more, she deserves a relationship.”

“Could we make that work with both of us?” Wonwoo had never thought of the possibility of them both fully getting to be with her.

“I think we both need to talk to her, it’s up to her if wants one of us at all or both of us.”

FOURTEEN: I WANT TO FIX THIS

With the bottle of wine in hand Wonwoo reached forward with a shaky hand and knocked on the door. Seconds seemed to be creeping by as he waited for you to answer the door. Mingyu rested his hand on his shoulder attempting to calm his best friend's nerves.

As the door slowly opened he took a deep breath waiting to face you. You stood in front of him with sad eyes.

“Hi,” your voice was soft and unsure.

Wonwoo didn’t know what exactly to say to you. He had tried to prepare what he wanted to tell you but all of it seemed to leave his mind the second his eyes locked with yours.

“So Mingyu says I’m in love with you. I haven’t ever been in love and to be quite honest I don’t know if love is exactly real. I know I feel things that I haven’t felt before for you. I hadn’t seen you in a week and honestly this week has been hell. I haven’t been able to think straight knowing that I lost you. I never meant to hurt you by ending things,” he rambled on, not even sure if he was even making any sense at all.

You look next to Wonwoo and sees Mingyu standing there with his hands shoved into his pockets.

“Do you think you love me?” You look up at Wonwoo's tall figure.

Wonwoo slowly nodded his head, “I feel things for you that I have never felt for another person.”

“What about you Mingyu?” You asked, speaking to the other man standing in the hallway.

“I already knew I love you,” he gives you a gentle smile.

“What made you decide to come over here?” You asked, looking up at Wonwoo.

“Mingyu told me I needed to make sure I didn’t lose you,” he sighed. “Mingyu and I don’t want to lose you.”

“Did you want to come inside?” You asked, stepping aside. The whole apartment building didn’t need to know what was going on between you.

He nodded and walked past you. Mingyu stops in front of you before walking in. “I’m sorry,” he whispers before pressing his lips to your cheek. Your eyes lock as he pulls away and you can love behind his eyes.

You led them over to the living room coach. You sat down on one end of the couch and they sat on the other end staring at you.

Wonwoo still had a million things he wanted to say to you, but he wasn’t even sure how to say them. He had never really put himself out on the line like this.

“(YN) I can’t really picture my life where you aren’t with me. This last week has been hell not being able to be with you.” Wonwoo is trying his hardest to convey how he’s feeling.

“I can't be with you if you’re going to break my heart again,” you couldn’t deal with having your heartbroken again by the man sitting across from you.

“I won't break your heart again,” he reached over and rested his hand on your thigh.

“What about you Mingyu?” You looked on the other side of Wonwoo to see Mingyu staring at you.

“I fucked up.”

“Are you still done with me,” you stood up moving so you stood in front of Mingyu.

Silently he swallows staring up at you. He stood up, taking one of your hands and resting the other on the side of your neck. Gently he dragged his thumb across your delicate skin.

“(YN) I love you,” he whispered, leaning forward resting his forehead against yours. “Please forgive me.”

“Kim Mingyu, I love you too,” leaning back you stare at him and you can’t help but smile. “Is it still over?” You don't think your heart could handle losing him again either.

“If you’ll take me back it’s not over. I won’t ever walk away again.”

He leaned forward pressing his lips to yours for a soft kiss. Both his hands hold your face as your lips move together for a heated kiss. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, missing the feeling of his lips against your.

Pulling away from you his nose rests against yours. A soft laugh passes his lips. “All this is complicated and not traditional, but just know we both love you.”

Looking over on the couch you find Wonwoo still sitting on the couch. Mingyu steps aside and you move to sit down next to the tall boy with glasses. You rest your hand on his thigh and give him a smile.

“I just need you to know that I’m new to this whole being a boyfriend thing, and I’m going to mess up sometimes, but I’m begging you not to give up on me.” He reached down and took your hand in his. “I won’t give up on you, but I need you to always talk to me and be open and honest with me.”

“I can do that,” he leaned forward so his face was a few inches away from yours.

“I love Wonwoo,” you say softly, moving forward so your lips were brushing against his.

“I think I love you too,” he pressed his lips against yours for a heated kiss. Your lips danced for a moment before Wonwoo pulled away from you and rested his forehead against yours.

“Did you both want to stay the night?” You asked not wanting to spend another night without them.

He nodded and smiled, “yes I would love to stay.”

Looking over at Mingyu he gives a soft smile and nods.

Wonwoo pulled your body close to his and they sat on the couch with you curled up next to him. His hand gently rubbed your side as your head rested on his shoulder. He wasn’t sure at that moment how he had gone a week without you. You had somehow managed to break down his walls without even trying. He wasn’t sure if Mingyu didn’t make him fix things if he would have been to get you back. The thought of you slipping through his finger hurt.

You reached for Mingyu's hands, pulling him down onto the couch next to you. You held his hand tightly as you cuddled closer to Wonwoo.

“So you both love me?” You beamed.

Mingyu leaned over, pressing his lips to the side of your neck. With his lips ghosting your skin he whispered, “I love you more than anything.”

“I believe I do too,” Wonwoo presses his lips to the top of your head.

You all sat together on the couch for probably an hour before you looked at both the boys with bright eyes and said, “can you take me to bed.”

Silently Mingyu nodded and took your hand leading you off to the bedroom. Wonwoo wasn’t far behind, taking in the sight of you two in front of him.

You stood at the foot of the bed and Mingyu slowly stripped away your clothes. Standing in front of them both completely exposed just smiling. You had spent the last week thinking you had lost Wonwoo and Mingyu forever and now here they were together confessing how they really felt. Reaching forward you worked on removing his clothing.

Standing naked in front of each other his hungry hands roamed your soft body as your lips moved together. Wonwoo leaned against the wall watching as it all unfolded in front of him with lust filled eyes.

Mingyu pulled his lips away from yours and said, “I missed you so much”

“I missed you too,” you walked away from him and moved to the bed.

You laid naked on the bed staring at the man you loved with lust filled eyes. He stared at you for a long moment. Things between you felt suddenly even more different than they ever had before. This didn’t feel like just sex like it normally did. Slowly he crawled on the bed and hovered over you. Gently he connected his lips to yours for a heated kiss. He dragged his lips from yours down the base of your neck. He left a trail of wet kisses across delicate skin. His lips kissed across each breast earning a gentle moan.

Your eyes looked over to the wall where the other man you loved was standing. “Wonwoo I need you,” you said as you reached for him. Your words did nothing to deter Mingyu who continued to kiss his way across your skin.

Pushing himself off the wall, Wonwoo made quick work of removing his clothes. Stepping towards his best friend and his girlfriend who were sprawled out on the bed in front of him.

Dragging his lips away from your soft skin, Mingyu eyes stayed locked on your. He crawled off you sitting on his hunches next to you.

Reaching into her nightstand by the bed you grabbed a foil packet and handed it to Wonwoo. He tore the packet open with his teeth and slid the rubber down his length. Laying on your back you stared at him in complete bliss that she managed to find two men who truly loved you.

Crawling on the bed he sat opposite of Mingyu, whose lips have not left your neck. Wonwoo pumps his hardened length watching.

Wonwoo leaned forward and kissed your cheek for a moment before moving his lips up to her your. “On your side baby,” he whispered with his lips brushing against your ear.

Mingyu pulled his lips away from your delicate skin and looked at his best friend. He couldn’t help but be a little unsure of what his position was in this situation.

You moved so you’re laying on your side and looked over her shoulder watching as Wonwoo moved behind you. His hand rested on your soft stomach as he slowly slid into you. Gasping as he bottomed out. He was completely still as his lips rested on your shoulder.

Leaning back and connecting your lips with a passionate kiss. Slowly he rolled his hips into you and he felt like he was home. It was almost as if you were made for him. His strong hand moved from your stomach and lifted your leg up. Hooking your leg under his arm as he continued to move into you at a slow pace.

“Mingyu, we can share,” he groans, not wanting his best friend to feel left out.

Mingyu’s eyes grow wide as he stares at the couple in front of him.

“Gyu please touch me,” you moans running your fingers across his abs. His stomach tenses as your fingers graze his hardened length.

Mindlessly he moves so he’s laying in front of you. You’re face to face. Your bottom lip is captured between her teeth as Wonwoo thrust into your velvety walls over and over.

One of Mingyu’s hands takes your breast massaging it as he kisses your jaw. Your hand grazes his length earning a moan. Reaching between you to of you pump his erection, desperately wanting to be close to both boys.

Your lips crash together, muffling the sounds of each of your moans and cries of desperation.

The air felt thick as the coil in your stomach tightened. Your pace you were stroking Mingyu picked up as you were getting closer and closer to the edge. Pulling your lips away from Mingyu you moan his name, earning a cheeky grin from him. Your head rested on Wonwoo’s chest as his hips continued to roll into you over and over again.

“Baby,” Wonwoo groaned before connecting his lips to yours for a rough kiss.

Your lips danced for a moment before you pulled away and looked at Mingyu who looked like he was on the brink of falling apart in your hand.

“Mingyu, please touch me,” you begged.

You were so close to falling apart and it wasn’t going to take much for him to push you over the edge. You had never felt as greedy in your life as you did right now. You wanted anything and everything the boys would give you.

Mingyu reached over brushing your sensitive clit with his thumb earning a whiny moan. He made quick work of playing with your sensitive bundle of nerves. Touching you just the way he knew would have you falling apart with very little effort. You continued pumping Mingyu’s length until he crumbled, moaning your name, while he painted your stomach with white ropes.

“Let go,” Wonwoo groaned with his lips ghosting yours.

With another thrust he pushed you over the edge and finally reaching the high. You couldn’t help the moans that passed your lips as he slowly rolled his hips into you a few times. It didn’t take long before he reached his own high. He dropped your leg and was still holding you close to him.

Mingyu laid on his back, his chest rising and falling coming down from his high. He looked over at the girl he loved, completely blissed out.

“I love you baby,” Wonwoo finally admitted how he felt as he held you close to him.

Laying there holding you close he hesitates letting go. He removed himself from you slowly and rolled onto his back. Laying on your back you look over at Mingyu for a moment before you smile at Wonwoo. He made a quick word of disposing of the condom and ran off to the bathroom to get a rag to clean you up.

Crawling back into the bed he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of you and Mingyu completely blissed out.

“So you both love me?” You asked not being able to hold back a huge smile.

“I believe I do baby” Wonwoo reaches forward pulling your soft body close to his. “I love you.”

With your head resting on his chest you couldn’t help but feel like you had finally found happiness with Mingyu and Wonwoo. Mingyu moved over, curling his body up close to you. He placed a kiss gently on your shoulder.

“YN I love you so much,” Mingyu said.

Pulling away from Wonwoo, you laid on your side with your back once again to him. Wonwoo wasted no time spooning your soft body.

Mingyu leaned forward pressing his lips to your for a gentle kiss. Things suddenly felt so right between you all.

Things between you weren't traditional by any means. You weren’t exactly sure how things would work out, but they knew you would have to learn as you go.

[7ndipity]

Every Little Thing

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: When you overhear Yoongi talking about how clingy you’ve been lately, you decide to take a step back from your friendship to give him space. But your sudden absence goes far from unnoticed by him.

Word Count: 2k(wtf?!)

Warnings: angst, swearing, only partially proofread

A/N: Thanks so much to the lovely anon who requested this! This story, I... I don’t know what happened, I went from struggling to get it to work at all to getting waayy too carried away. I kinda had to stop myself at the end before it shifted into something else, but maybe if y’all want a part two, we can pick up from there?

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

As you got off the elevator, you couldn’t help the faint bounce in your step as you made your way to Yoongi’s studio, your bag slung over one shoulder, a grocery bag of snacks and drinks for the two of you to share.

Ever since you and Yoongi(and in turn, the rest of the members) had become friends, The Genius Lab had become a hideaway of sorts for you. Whenever you were feeling stressed or overwhelmed, you knew you could call Yoongi, and he would tell you to come over, letting you camp out on his couch while he worked, occasionally asking for your thoughts or opinions on a specific song or line.

As you neared his studio door, you noticed it was slightly ajar, allowing the voices from inside to slip out into the hall, quickly recognizing them as Yoongi’s and Namjoon’s.

“You wanna come to lunch with me and Hoseok?” Namjoon asked.

“Agh, I can’t, I told Y/n’s we could hang out today.” You heard Yoongi’s chair creak as he stretched, letting out a groan.

“Again? That’s like the third time this week, people are gonna start thinking you’re a couple or something at this rate.” Joon joked, making your cheeks flush lightly.

“Nah, it’s nothing like that,” Yoongi replied, sounding tired. “They’re just being clingier than usual, you know what they’re like.”

You frowned at his words. What did he mean by that?

“I know it’s just cause they’ve been stressed lately,” Yoongi continued. “But honestly, it’s gotten to the point where it��s weirder for them to not be here.”

Joon chuckled. “I’m surprised you don’t find that annoying.”

“I didn’t say that I don’t,” Yoongi said. “But it’s Y/n, so I let it slide. Anyway, on that track you showed me-”

You stepped back from the door, the sudden tightness in your chest making it slightly difficult to breathe as you quietly made your back down the hall to the elevators. As the metal doors closed, you replayed what you had overheard in your head.

Yoongi had always told you that he didn’t mind you hanging around, but maybe you had started to abuse that privilege, grown too dependent on him. Was that how he really felt about you? Had you become a nuisance? And if so, why hadn’t he said anything?

Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you quickly found his number and hit the call icon, trying to swallow down the lump in your throat before he picked up on the second ring.

“Hey, are you almost here?” He answered, sounding much brighter than a few minutes ago.

“Uh, actually, I don’t think I can make it today.” You said, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, concerned.

No, one of my best friends hates me. “Yeah, everything’s fine, something just came up, sorry.” You bit your lip, managing to slip out of the building without running into any of the other members and making your way down the street to the bus stop.

“Okay.” He sounded unconvinced. “Is it anything I can help with, or-?”

“No, no it’s-, it’s a work thing.” You said, the words falling flat on your own ears. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Alright.” He said reluctantly. “Bye.”

“Bye.” You hung up, letting out a deep breath.

You could tell he hadn’t believed you, but you didn’t really care at the moment. If he wasn’t going to be honest with you, why should you be any different?

Suddenly presented with the afternoon to yourself, you decided to head to the park, wandering along the river as you thought over everything.

You and Yoongi had come here together not long after you had moved to the city, the last few blooms of the cherry blossom season clinging on stubbornly to their branches. He’d promised to bring you back the next year, so you could see them in their full glory at peak bloom.

Of course, life and work had gotten in the way, as they often did, and before either of you had realized, the season had nearly passed again before he could keep his word. You’d told him at the time that it didn’t matter, you’d just been happy to spend time with him, a recurring theme for you apparently…

Had you been a bother to him back then as well? You didn’t believe so, but the earlier sting of his words had left you questioning everything, even if you knew it might be an over-reaction.

It was dark by the time you made it home, flopping down on the sofa with a tired sigh as you contemplated your options.

So you’d been bugging him lately, that was an easily fixable problem, right? Just leave him alone for a bit, it was as simple as that, wasn’t it?

You weren’t so sure as your phone suddenly buzzed on the cushion next to you, drawing your attention to Yoongi’s name illuminated on the screen. You’d forgotten you said you’d call him.

‘Hadn’t heard from you, just wanted to make sure you’re okay?’ The text read.

Now who’s the clingy one? Was your immediate first thought.

‘I’m fine, just tired. Talk to you tomorrow.’ You typed shortly before turning off your phone and going to bed, with no intention of texting him the next day unless he did so first.

For the next week, you tried to keep up with your new normal; you didn’t go by the studio, you avoided texting him unless he did first, and generally avoided his invites to hangout with vague excuses.

One place you couldn’t avoid him though was dinner with the other members. It was a monthly tradition that you usually looked forward to, but as you stepped through the door of the restaurant, you only felt a wave of nervousness, for what though exactly you didn’t know.

“Y/n!” Tae quickly hopped to his feet to give you a hug, the others all greeting you enthusiastically. You noticed Yoongi didn’t speak, only nodding to you politely, but his eyes never left you for a second, seeming to study your every move.

“Y/n, do you want my seat? I know you usually prefer to sit by Yoongi-hyung.” Jungkook asked, starting to get to his feet, but you quickly waved him to sit.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to move for me, I’m fine over here.” You said, settling in the free seat next to Jimin, which happened to be directly across the table from Yoongi.

Everyone quickly settled into their usual routines and conversations, the mix of voices blurring into an almost comforting buzz, allowing you to zone out for a moment and relax, but a single low voice managed to snap you back to attention.

“I haven’t seen you all week.” Yoongi said quietly, a noticeable heaviness in his voice.

“Yeah, things have just been kinda busy.” You tried to say convincingly, but it was hard to pull off under his gaze. Luckily, Jin asked you about something from the show you’d been watching and gave you an easy out of the conversation.

You managed to get through the evening well enough, talking with the others, even making plans with Jimin for him to help you pick out some new furniture for your apartment. You’d felt Yoongi’s eyes on you all evening, but hadn’t said anything.

It was later that night when you were pulled from sleep by the sound of someone knocking persistently on your front door.

Cautiously, you climbed out of bed and padded to the door.

Who’s there?” You called anxiously, trying to remember where you’d put your old baseball bat, in case you needed to defend yourself.

“It’s Yoongi.”

You froze, staring at the door in surprise for a second before going over and peering out the peephole.

Sure enough, he was standing on your doorstep, causing a brief sense of relief that was quickly replaced with confusion and the same nervousness from earlier.

Not quite knowing what else to do, you cracked the door open slowly, taking in his slightly disheveled state; hair mussed and faint bags under his eyes. He looked the same way as when he would pull all-nighters at the studio.

“What are you doing here?” You asked.

“Why’ve you been avoiding me?” He responded with his own question, staring you down.

“I-, I haven’t-”

“Don’t lie.” He stopped you.

Glancing around quickly, you pulled him inside, not wanting to have this discussion in the hall.

“You’ve been dodging my texts and calls, you wouldn’t sit with me at dinner, you asked Jimin for help with furniture shopping, which you know he’s terrible at.” He continued as you closed the door. “So, tell me please, what has happened to make you start ditching me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me that I was annoying you?” You snapped.

He stopped, staring at you in confusion. “What?”

“I heard you and Joon talking last week,” You said, his face falling as the memory came flooding back. “About how clingy I’ve been, and how I’ve been annoying you by hanging around so much.”

“You haven’t been-”

“Don’t.” It was your turn to cut him off. “Don’t try to tell me that it’s not true or you didn’t mean it. What I want to know is why you weren’t just honest with me?” You hated the way your voice started to shake as you spoke. “Why didn’t you just tell me to fuck off or something? Why do you put up with me if I'm such an annoyance?!”

“Because I fucking love you!” He blurted out.

You froze, staring at him in shock. “What?!”

“I-, I love you.” He said quietly.

“You love me?” You repeated, hurt and frustration still churning in your stomach, not letting you take his words to heart. “You love me, but you think I’m annoying?”

“I think everyone’s annoying!” He tossed his hands up in frustration. “The difference is that I like your annoyance!

“I like that you’re loud and weird and make terrible jokes, I like that you nag me to take better care of myself.” He said. “I like that you’re happy holed up in my studio with me. I like that you sing along to every song that you recognize, even without realizing that you’re doing it.”

He took a cautious step closer, pleading with his eyes as he spoke.

“I like every little annoying thing that you do, because they’re what make you you. I’m so sorry that I made you think anything otherwise.”

You hadn’t moved as he spoke, fighting the tremble in your lip as your eyes had misted over with tears.

“Y/n?” He asked anxiously.

You didn’t speak, choosing instead to lunge forward, wrapping your arms tightly around him in a bruising hug. He staggering back slightly at the force of the collision, arms immediately coming up to hold you in an equally tight embrace.

“I missed you.” You sniffled, burying your face in his chest.

“I missed you too.” He replied, holding you tighter, pressing a soft kiss to your head. “I’m also sorry for telling you I loved you in a shitty way.”

“Eh, it’s kinda on brand for us, honestly.” You teased, making him let out a huff of laughter.

“I guess you’re right, fuck.” He shook his head.

“You wanna try again?” You offered.

He pulled back to look at you. “Really?”

You nodded. “If you want to.”

He nodded, pulling away enough to take your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles as he pressed his lips together nervously, eyes shaking slightly as he met your gaze.

“I love you, Y/n.”

He’d barely gotten the last word out before your lips were on his, effectively shutting you both up for the next several minutes.

When you finally pulled back, his eyes were blown wide, lips swollen and red from your assault, his breaths coming out in shaky puffs.

“I love you too, by the way.” You said, grinning at his slightly dazed expression.

“Cool, c’mere.” He said, pulling you back in, making you giggle as he eagerly reconnected your mouths.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

[secretlocket]

chris helps sunshine!reader prepare for her christmas party.

“…kid's tryna take his sweater off again."

the sound of your boyfriend's voice halts your overthinking, the worrisome thoughts that were invading your mind pushed back as you make your way over to him and pretzel, your puppy, who's still not thrilled about the christmas sweater you put on him.

you stand there watching as chris gently grabs pretzel’s paws, preventing him from scratching off the sweater once more. the puppy lets out a low whine, his small tail thumping on the floor in protest.

"he’s really not a fan of that sweater, huh?" chris jokes lightly, still trying to keep a hold of the squirming puppy.

“maybe i should’ve gone with the plain one instead of this snowflake monstrosity,” you mutter, adjusting pretzel’s sweater while he wriggles dramatically beneath your hands.

chris chuckles, leaning against the couch as he watches him fuss. “nah, i think it’s cute. but, you know, if you’re this stressed about the kid and his clothes, maybe we should talk about the party instead.”

that’s all it takes to send you spiraling. “oh my god, don’t even get me started on the party!” you groan, standing up and starting to pace. “chris, i’m so nervous i feel like i’m gonna throw up. what if nobody shows up? like, what if nobody comes and i’m just standing here, with all this food and decorations, completely humiliated? i’ll never live it down. never.”

chris watches you with a small smile tugging at his lips, though his eyes are soft with understanding. “hey—” he says, stepping in front of you and gently placing his hands on your shoulders, halting your pacing. “that’s not gonna happen.”

you stop and look at him, your face still scrunched with worry. “you don’t know that,” you mutter, your voice small.

“yeah, i do,” he insists, his tone calm but firm. “y’know why? because i’ll be here. so will nick and matt. they wouldn’t miss it. and your friends? they’re definitely coming, too. you’ve been talking about this party for weeks—they’re not just gonna bail. everyone is looking forward to it.”

“yeah, okay, but what if—”

“nope,” he interrupts, squeezing your shoulders lightly. “no ‘what ifs.’ even if somehow the guest list shrinks to just me and my brothers—which it won’t—you’d still have the three of us here eating all your snacks and hyping you up. honestly, that’s already a solid party right there.”

despite yourself, you let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “you’re ridiculous.”

“ridiculously right,” he counters, grinning now. “listen, babe, everyone loves you. they’re not coming to judge your decorations or your food. they’re coming because they want to hang out with you. and i’ll be here the whole time, making sure you’re having as much fun as they are.”

you pause, his words lingering in the air, and let them settle in. deep down, you know he’s right—he’s always right when it comes to things like this.

“i hate when you do that,” you say softly, the corners of your mouth twitching upward.

“do what?” chris grins knowingly. he’s like the perfect mix between a gremlin and a guardian angel.

“make me feel better about things i’ve already spent hours freaking out over,” you reply, shaking your head. “it’s like you’re always two steps ahead of me, waiting to remind me that i’m overthinking everything.”

he shrugs, his hands still resting lightly on your arms. “mmm, s’not that hard. i just know you. you’re always so focused on making sure everyone else is happy that you forget to let yourself enjoy it, too.” chris also a chronic overthinker himself, that’s why it’s so easy for him to catch you whenever you’re slipping off the edge.

your chest tightens, but not in the way it did earlier. this time, it’s warmth spreading through you—a reminder of how lucky you are to have him in your life. “you’re always looking out for me,” you say softly, meeting his eyes. “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

chris tilts his head, his expression softening. “you’d be fine, yn. you’re strong, even when you don’t feel like it. but i’m glad i get to be here, y’know? to remind you of that.”

you reach up, placing your hand over his, and give it a gentle squeeze. “i don’t say it enough, but… thank you. for everything. for just…being you.”

he leans in, pressing a quick kiss to your temple, his grin returning. “anytime. now, let’s finish decorating this place and getting the snacks ready. i don’t know about you, but i am not impressed by the lack of pepsi in your fridge. that shit needs to be fixed, like, immediately. we can actually have some stuff doordashed if you don’t feel like going out? or i can finish decorating while you run out…”

you laugh, and for the first time all day, it feels like the stress is finally melting away. chris always has a way of doing that—of reminding you to breathe, to focus on what matters, and to not let your own happiness get lost in the shuffle.

but unfortunately, while you two were distracted earlier, pretzel found himself having a bit too much fun messing around with the ornaments, a specific one catching his eye—a red, sparkling, biscuit shaped one.

the sound of frantic rustling from the living room catches both your attention, and you whip around to see pretzel once again yanking on one of the branches like it’s a game of tug of war.

“hey—hey!” chris yelps, trying to get the small puppy to back down, but it’s no use. with one last triumphant tug, the tree gives a mighty sway before toppling over, ornaments scattering everywhere.

messages from brie 🗯️ : …wanted to write a cute lil christmas blurb but something tells me that this is well over 100 words—my bad !! just wanted to get a feel for these two with au & test out my writing after having such a looooooong break from it. anyways i hope you all enjoy this !! was very fun to work on <3

✷ tags : @sugrhigh @et6rnalsun @eternaldecisions @sirenedeslily @freshloveee @nickssidewitch

[psychoticfemmm]

over my shoulder

pairing: frat!jj maybank x reader

summary: At a wild frat party, you get frustrated with JJ for ignoring you while he hangs with his frat brothers.

The party was in full swing, music thumping loud enough to rattle the windows, red Solo cups everywhere. You weaved through the throng of people, trying to keep up with JJ as he stopped every five seconds to fist-bump someone, down a beer, or laugh obnoxiously at some inside joke with his frat brothers.

“JJ,” you tugged on his arm, leaning closer so he could hear you. “Can we just hang out for a bit? Alone?”

He grinned at you, but his eyes darted to the pong table across the room. “Just a sec, babe. Gotta crush Pete and Logan real quick. I’ll find you after, okay?”

Before you could respond, he was gone, swept up in the chaos of his fraternity’s party. You exhaled sharply, annoyance bubbling in your chest. Rolling your eyes, you spun around and headed toward your friend, Riley, who was standing near the kitchen.

“JJ ditch you for his bros again?” Riley teased, handing you a fresh drink.

“Shocker, right?” you muttered, taking a sip.

As the two of you talked, a guy wearing a sweatshirt with the logo of JJ’s rival frat strolled up to you, a cocky grin plastered across his face. “Hey, haven’t seen you around here before. You a Chi Alpha girl?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Nope. Just here for the beer pong champion who’s too busy to hang out with me.”

“Ah, classic Delta Nu. They’re always like that,” he said, leaning a little too close. “Maybe you need someone who actually pays attention to you.”

Before you could respond, you heard a familiar voice cut through the music. “Hey, buddy, back off.”

You turned to see JJ storming over, jaw tight and eyes blazing. He shoved the guy back a step, beer sloshing out of the guy’s cup.

“Seriously, JJ?” you snapped, folding your arms.

“He was hitting on you,” JJ said, glaring at the guy.

“Maybe if you weren’t too busy for me, I wouldn’t have to entertain myself!” you shot back.

The guy smirked, clearly enjoying the drama. “Looks like you’ve got some issues to work out, man.”

That was the wrong thing to say. JJ lunged at him, but a few of his brothers grabbed his arms, pulling him back. “Not worth it, bro,” one of them muttered.

JJ huffed, clearly still fuming. He turned back to you, and before you could protest, he grabbed you by the waist and threw you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing.

“JJ! Put me down!” you shouted, pounding your fists on his back.

“Nope. You’re coming with me,” he said, ignoring your protests as he carried you up the stairs to his room.

Once inside, he kicked the door shut and set you down on his bed. “Alright, princess, let’s talk.”

You crossed your arms, still fuming. “Talk? Now you want to talk?”

He stepped closer, his hands on either side of your hips. “I’m sorry, okay? I was being an idiot.”

“Yeah, you were,” you said, turning your head when he leaned in to kiss you.

JJ chuckled, clearly amused by your defiance. “Oh, you’re mad mad, huh?”

“Gee, what gave it away?” you deadpanned.

He cupped your face, forcing you to look at him. “I’m really sorry, babe. Let me make it up to you.”

“How?” you asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow.

His lips crashed into yours before you could say anything else. At first, you resisted, but his hand slid down to your waist, pulling you flush against him as his tongue grazed your bottom lip. You couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped, and he took full advantage, deepening the kiss until your frustration began to melt.

When he pulled back, his lips brushed against your jaw as he murmured, “I’ve been a shitty boyfriend tonight, but let me show you how much I hate when you’re mad at me.”

You swallowed, your annoyance quickly giving way to something else entirely. “This better be good, JJ.”

He smirked, his voice low as he trailed kisses down your neck. “Oh, babe, you won’t be thinking about anyone else by the time I’m done.”

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

let me know if I should do more au's like this⋆. 𐙚 ˚

[satoruswifeyyyy]

satoru gojo is the type of boyfriend to...

masterlist

warnings ⚠️: milf sexual content

satoru is the type of boyfriend to “accidentally” misplace your things at his place so you have to stay longer. oh, your phone charger? lost. your keys? vanished. and he’ll play innocent, looking around like, “wow, weird. guess you’re staying the night!”

satoru is the type of boyfriend to wrap you in a blanket, squish you onto the couch, and play your favorite show when you tell him you’re tired, instead of comforting you. but the catch? he’s sitting right next to you with his big eyes glued on you and will pause every 10 seconds to ask, “are you feeling better yet? how about now?”

satoru is the type of boyfriend to remember every little thing you say, so if you mention craving something like a specific pastry or even a seasonal candle, he’ll go to five different stores to find it. and he’ll show up at your door, grinning like a kid, saying, “for my favorite person in the world.”

satoru is the type of boyfriend to take every opportunity to show you off. even if it’s just a casual dinner with friends, he’ll find a way to work in how amazing you are, beaming as he watches you blush. he’ll say things like, “you know she’s basically a genius, right? i'm just here for the good looks.”

satoru is the type of boyfriend to randomly pull you close in the middle of a crowded street, spinning you around just because. when you ask why, he’ll just shrug and say, “you looked too cute, i couldn’t resist.” he loves making you laugh and seeing you all flustered.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to to whisper sweet things in your ear, even in the middle of a crowd. he’ll lean in and say something like, “do you know how incredible you look today?” just to see you smile, and then he’ll pretend it was nothing when you look back, eyes twinkling.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to go out of his way to pamper you, running his fingers through your hair, bringing you your favorite snacks, and whispering, “I’ll always be here. You know that, right?” , when you tell him you are not feeling well.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to be your personal cheerleader, hyping you up for even the smallest things. got through a tough day? he’s there with chocolates and a whole pep talk ready. and he’ll proudly tell you, “no one can make it look as easy as you do.”

satoru is the type of boyfriend to never let a day go by without reminding you he loves you. sometimes it’s a grand declaration with his arms wide open, and other times, it’s a soft whisper before you fall asleep. and he’ll say, “just so you never forget, okay?”

satoru is the type of boyfriend to sit tightly and refuse to move, if you fall asleep with your head on his shoulder, even if his arm goes numb. he’ll sit there, smiling like an idiot, staring at you with this soft, mesmerized look, thinking, “how did I get so lucky?”

satoru is the type of boyfriend to insist on walking you home, every single time. he’ll joke that he’s “keeping you safe from imaginary threats,” but the truth is he just loves spending those last few moments with you, holding your hand and pretending he has all the time in the world.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to “borrow” your favorite scent to keep with him. he’d “accidentally” swipe your hoodie or spray your perfume on his shirt just so he can feel close to you, especially when you’re not there. when you ask him about it, he’ll shrug and say, “hey, it just reminds me of you. can you blame me?”

satoru is the type of boyfriend to leave you voice messages with the sweetest goodnight wishes, describing how he can’t wait to see you tomorrow and how he feels lucky to have you. he’ll say, “i hope you know you’re always on my mind, even when we’re apart,” and you can hear that little softness in his voice that he usually hides.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to make every anniversary a huge deal, no matter how small. he’ll show up with your favorite flowers, make dinner reservations, or even do something totally spontaneous like renting out a whole theater to watch your favorite movie together, because “you deserve the world, and i’m giving you the closest thing to it.”

satoru is the type of boyfriend to playfully write “mr. and mrs.” on random papers or text you with your name combined with his last name. when you roll your eyes, he’ll laugh and say, “just a little practice for the future, right?” and his tone is playful, but there’s a part of him that means every word.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to sneak up behind you, wrapping you in his arms out of nowhere. even if you’re in the middle of brushing your teeth, he’ll just hold you close, grin in the mirror, and whisper, “missed you.” when you ask how he could possibly miss you in two minutes, he’ll just smirk and say, “not my fault you’re this addictive.”

satoru is the type of boyfriend to send you the goofiest selfies, captioned with the most dramatic things like, “this is the man who’s desperately in love with you.” or he’ll leave voice notes telling you in detail why you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to constantly find little excuses to hold your hand, even if you’re just walking to the fridge. he’ll squeeze your hand three times (his secret “i love you”) and then kiss it when he thinks you aren’t looking, but you’ll catch him smiling to himself like he’s won the lottery.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to surprise you with handwritten love notes, sometimes with silly doodles on the side, tucked into your bag or under your pillow. he’ll write cheesy lines like, “today’s forecast: 100% chance of me loving you,” then play it cool, even though he’s secretly hoping it makes you smile.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to constantly look at you like you hung the stars. even when you’re just talking about your day or doing something random, he’ll be there, staring with that soft, awe-filled look, because he still can’t believe he got this lucky.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to pepper your entire face with kisses, occassionally switching to kitten licks. then, once he is done with your face, he will do the same with your neck. and when you would tell him to stop, he would look at you with the most adorable expression on his face and whine, "i am not done yet." and who could say no to that face?

satoru is the type of boyfriend to buy you lipsticks at every date. not just any lipstick, but branded ones- chanel and dior. when you ask him the reason, he would beg you to use him as canvas and kiss his entire body, while having the lipstick shades on. after you are done marking his face and chest with lipstick stains, he would click a polaroid picture of it.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to snuggle in between your tits, while cuddling. he would lay on top of you, crushing you under his weight, and rest his face in between your breasts. he loves your tits, and has even named them, calling them "my girls". he is the type of initiate nipple play during sex and motorboat you.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to eat you out until your legs tremble and your cries sound desperate, during sex. he claims that he loves hearing your sweet moans and pleadings when he overstimulates you. "i love how you taste", is his excuse for making you cum a manifold times.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to switch positions, every now and then. he loves bending you into a mating press, fucking you in front of the mirror but never doggy style because in satoru's words, "i need to see your face while fucking you baby"

satoru is the type of boyfriend to fuck you raw because of his baby fever. he would love to have a baby with you, who would look just like the two of you. he is the type to talk about marriage and breeding you while having sex.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to enjoy watching you take charge in bedroom. he loves succumbing beneath you because he finds that extremely hot. he loves it when you ride his cock and dominate him, especially tying him up with his blindfold."the thought alone makes me cum, mommy", satoru comments.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to turn his infinity on, when he or his fingers are inside you to stretch your abused pussy better.

satoru is the type of boyfriend to ask you to paint your nails the same shade as the tip of his cock, after watching this trend in social media. with his base being, "#EAD3C9" and the tip, "E3AEAA".

A/N: this was my first headcanon, please don't judge 😭 idk how to do this shit, i am so sorry.

pregnancy smau part 4 will be up on wednesday :)

[solxamber]

hellooo i just needed to say your writings are like super cute theyre like my bedtime stories atp JHDJJXHS but could i request a little hurt comfort headcanon with adeuce seeing a reader who usually is always very cheerful and upbeat. Theres sometimes theyre anxious and worried but overall reader is seen as someone whos strong emotionally like nothing can bring them down. Until something does get them down with tears rolling down their eyes and theyre desperately trying to hide this side of them that they feel so vulnerable letting others see. How would the boys react to such a situation?

aww thank you <3 i didn't know if you wanted separate or together so you get both!

They react to you breaking down || Ace and Deuce

Ace Trappola

Ace’s immediate reaction would be shock. He’s used to seeing you as a ball of sunshine, someone who shrugs off worries with a laugh or a witty remark. Seeing you cry? That’s uncharted territory for him, and it throws him completely off balance.

“Hey, hey, what’s with the waterworks?” he’d say, trying to keep things light-hearted, even though he’s panicking internally. But when he realizes you’re trying to hide your tears, it hits him like a ton of bricks.

Ace might not be the most emotionally articulate, but he cares deeply. He crouches down to your level, blocking your attempts to turn away from him. “You don’t have to act tough, y’know. It’s okay to be upset. Even you deserve a break from being the strong one all the time.”

He’d sit beside you, offering his sleeve (or maybe a tissue if he can find one) to wipe your tears. “Come on, talk to me. I can be serious… sometimes. I won’t even charge you for my amazing advice!” His humor is his way of trying to comfort you.

Beneath the teasing, he’s surprisingly gentle. He stays close, his presence steady and grounding, and he doesn’t leave your side until you’re ready to face the world again.

Deuce Spade

Deuce would immediately panic at the sight of you crying. “W-What happened?! Did someone hurt you? Who was it? I’ll take care of it!” His first instinct is to go into overprotective mode, even if he has no idea what’s going on yet.

But when he notices you trying to hide your face, his heart aches. He’s always admired how strong and positive you are, but seeing you crumble makes him realize just how much pressure you’ve been under.

“Hey, don’t do that,” he says softly, his voice full of concern. “You don’t have to hide from me. I’m your friend—I want to help.”

Deuce would sit down beside you, his presence calm and reassuring. He might fumble a bit with his words, but his sincerity shines through. “It’s okay to cry. I… I cry too sometimes. It doesn’t make you weak. It just means you’ve been holding a lot in.”

He’d hesitate for a moment before reaching out to gently pat your shoulder or hold your hand, giving you the comfort of physical support. “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together. You’re not alone in this.”

Deuce is the type to quietly stay by your side, letting you take the lead in how much you want to share. If words don’t help, he’s content to simply sit there, offering you a safe space to feel what you need to feel.

Together

If Ace and Deuce stumble upon you crying together, they’d play off each other in their own chaotic but heartfelt way.

Ace would try to lighten the mood with jokes or teasing, but Deuce would elbow him and say, “Now’s not the time for that!”

They’d both sit with you, Ace on one side and Deuce on the other, creating a protective little bubble where you feel safe to let it all out.

Ace might gently nudge you with his shoulder and say, “Come on, you don’t have to deal with this alone. You’ve got us, remember?”

Deuce would nod earnestly, adding, “Yeah! Whatever’s bothering you, we’ll help you fix it. Or… or at least listen. We’re here for you.”

Their dynamic would be a mix of Ace’s playful energy and Deuce’s heartfelt sincerity, making you feel both comforted and loved. They’d stick with you until your tears turn into smiles, determined to remind you that you’re never alone with them around.

Masterlist

[star-suh]

Scream

Choi San x Male Reader

cw: top ghostface san, sadist undertones, degradation, dubcon, drunk-ish encounter at first, knife play, anonymous sex?, some edging, handjob, blood play, blowjob, cum eating, breeding, manhandling, nipple play, ripped clothes, choking, semi-public sex, bareback, san is mean to the reader.

an: i think this is way darker than what i usually write ngl bcs i don’t know what happened in my mind when i thought about the knife part.

also this is the last halloween special fic, enjoy!! 🎃

it’s halloween week and the murders attributed to ghostface haven’t stopped, it doesn’t help at all that somehow everyone has taken a liking in dressing as him, costume stores ran out of black capes and ghostface masks. “what’s wrong with people?” yn mutters to his friend wooyoung, “i don’t know, maybe it’s the idea of a sexy hot dude under all those clothes” he tries to reason, “yeah but if they all disguise as him it would be difficult to know who’s the real murderer” yn adds. wooyoung shrugs “dumbasses for real”.

“are you going to tonight’s party at my fraternity?” wooyoung asks his friend, “i would feel better if i can keep an eye close to you, you know, i don’t want you to be in the newspaper tomorrow” the joke makes them both laugh “you stupid” yn smacks him lightly on the shoulder “ok i’ll go. but first i have to choose a costume” he says, eyeing his phone. “you could just go naked and say you are a slut, it would be fun. best costume of the night if you ask me” wooyoung blurted out, “shush, i don’t want you to fuck me with your eyes” yn puts his hand on top of the other’s face, covering his eyes and pushing his face away from him “nasty woo”.

store after store yn tried to find a cool costume but it seems that all they sell now is the ghostface one, “why is he so popular” yn speaks to the air, “sigh… i guess i’ll just go disguised as a frat boy” he grabs his phone from his pocket and dial a known number, “hey woo can you lend me your jacket, i’ll go as a frat boy”, “sure bro” woo affirms, “just don’t be late”.

loud music, flashing lights and neon signs decorated the venue, the fraternity house was full with people, a perfect place for a murderer some might say, but they don’t seem to care. “ok here i go” yn takes a deep breath and walks closer to the entrance. man doesn’t like to go to parties, they feel like they drown all his energy but he’s doing it to not worry his dear friend. “you came” wooyoung runs towards yn and hugs him, offering him a cup of liquor he is holding in one of his hands, “yeah…” yn laughs awkwardly while looking around, spotting all the ghostfaces in there, but one in particularly caught his attention. he was standing next to the stairs, he was not moving at all as if he was a statue, but yn could feel his gaze piercing into him, that sensation when someone stares at you but multiplied like 50 times, it was creeping him out.

“umm.. wooyoung?” yn turns around to seek his friend but he wasn’t there anymore, now he looks back at the creepy man and he wasn’t there either, “calm down yn haha you just need to relax, that’s right, just relax” he talks to himself while grabbing a cup of liquor and chugging it all at once. hours passed and yn seems to have forgotten about the creepy dude, thanks to the alcohol in his system. he starts to explore the house, visiting every room on the first floor and now going upstairs, not noticing that from afar someone’s been watching him. “is this woo’s room?” he says feeling tipsy and opened the door, there were two couples in there fucking, thanks to the music they didn’t hear the door opening so yn quietly closed it. his face red in embarrassment and a little tent forming on his pants, “what the fuck” he tries to cover his growing bulge and went running to another room sitting on the bed there. the alcohol didn’t help to cover his hard dick, it was aching, it needed to be liberated from that clothed prison. letting himself get carried away by the pleasure he pulls up his white shirt, biting the hem so it doesn’t get stained when he cums. he tugs his pants down along with his briefs and starts to stroke it, spitting some saliva on his hand to coat his dick with it. he throws his head back, grunting and whimpering in pleasure when suddenly his strokes stopped, but it wasn’t for him, he felt someone else’s hand so he quickly tries to get away from whoever is doing ir, when he looks up a man with a ghostface costume was there, continuing the handjob. “let go please” yn’s body squirmed, the other guy was stroking him but with more pressure. “pleassee” he slurred, his thighs pressing together to try and hide his dick. his dick was getting dry because the anon guy wiped the precum off of his tip with his thumb, yn sees how the man lifts up his mask a bit and a thread of spit falls on top of his tip, he uses it to lubed it and strokes it faster and harder. “hngh wait. slo-slowly. ahhh” a deep voice then suddenly speaks, “okay” and he stops.

next thing yn knew is that his bottom half was completely naked, his dick, balls and ass in full display for the other pervert to see, “you told me to stop but your body is betraying you” his dick and hole throbbing for the thrill, the unexpected pleasure an anonymous guy was giving him, “that’s not-” yn was cut out when the masked man introduced his index finger on his hole. the ring of muscles gripping on it, yn’s hips moved on his own signaling he was close to his climax but ghostface stopped pulling his finger away of the hungry hole, “you will only cum when i say so” he pulls out a knife and scrape the cold metal against yn’s tigh catching him off guard. “what the f-” he was about to scream but then man acted fast enough to cover his mouth, “scream and i’ll gut you while you’re conscious” the sharp blade sliding gently in between his thigh, a fine line of blood coming out of it. he lifts his mask once again showing his creepy yet perfect smile, his wet tongue licking the blood out of the recently made wound, “amuse me tonight and maybe i won’t kill you tonight. think about it you could be the savior of these stupid people, no murders tonight and maybe tomorrow all you have to do is be my slut” the creepy yet sexy smirk on his face would haunt yn from now on. the hand on yn’s mouth slowly undiscovered it and he started to put his fingers inside yn’s mouth and then same on his hole again with the other half, “look at you accepting to be a murderer’s sex toy. you don’t have an ounce of self-respect, do you?”, yn started to cry thinking how low he’s gone now but those thoughts were suddenly replaced by ones with pleasure when four digits entered his ass with the middle one brushing his prostate every time it goes in, “fuck you” yn muttered, with the other’s thumb still inside his mouth, that is now covered in spit. yn’s hole was already so stretched that ghostface’s four fingers entered so easily so he decided to try something thicker. something cold entered inside yn, he lifts himself up to see what was it, he was shocked after realize the murderer was fucking him with the knife handle, “you’re fucking crazy, pull that out of me” with a swift motion yn moved backwards managing to pull it out, “what a pussy” the masked man purred, he stands up grabbing yn by the hips and pulling him closer, “you’re getting on my fucking nerves” that fucking sexy deep voice spoke, he lifts his black cape showing he was only wearing a pair of jeans under it, his torso completely naked showing yn how ripped he was. “fucking looser” he unzips his pants and pulls out his shaft, covering it in his spit and ramming himself inside yn with no mercy, the latter crying out loud feeling his prostate being abused by the other’s veiny fat cock.

his shaft stretched his walls to the max, yn would swear he would not be able to walk after this at least for a week, this provokes that yn mutter curses towards the masked murderer that went unnoticed by the top, whose growls and moans didn’t let him catch clearly what the other was saying, he just chased his own pleasure now.

ghostface grabbed yn by the neck and made him turn around fucking him doggy style, with his hands around the other’s neck to squeeze occasionally, he loves how yn’s grips so hard onto his dick when the oxygen starts to lack on his brain, truly a psycho. grabbing him by his neck, ghostface pulls yn closer towards him, his back against his toned muscles and heaving chest. he starts to explore under yn’s shirt, playing with his nipples, pinching them “nice tits manwhore” ghostface praises and immediately rips his shirt apart leaving him now completely naked, the cold air making yn’s skin crawl, “bet you like being used like this, just a human fleshlight for everyone to dump their spunk on you”. “noo” yn refuted, “i’m not like that”. ghostface keeps plowing yn continuously, his hole already sore and agape with droplets of cum coming out of it, yn has already lost count how many times ghostface has came inside him but that pleasure was always denied to him with the other stopping the fucking or straight up threatening him with the knife. “guess that’s enough for today” he says as the last drop of cum is spurted inside yn. he then turns yn around to see how fucked up he was and glorify himself for it, then he notices the red aching cock begging for release so in what could seem his first act of pity he lifts his mask once again and suck him off, his sexy lips going up and down while his tongue is swirling around the tip and underside of yn’s shaft. ‘shit! he’s skilled in sucking dick’ yn thought, cumming not long after a few more sloppy sucks, flooding ghostface’s throat with thick spunk. yn was tired after all that fucking session but right before falling asleep he catches a glimpse of ghostface swallowing his cum and smirking at him, “sleep well tonight bitch boy, after all you should be proud of how you avoided more murders tonight by just being a cumrag”. he puts his shaft back again in his pants, covered his naked torso with the black cape and pulls down his mask, leaving the room.

“you fucked with the murderer” wooyoung yelled, “shut the fuck up woo, my head hurts” yn said hiding his face from the morning sun, “he even threatened me with a knife, and made a superficial cut on my thigh”, “that’s creepy bro, but i’m grateful you’re okay now” woo took a sip of his iced coffee. “yeah i’m okay, but my ass hurts like hell man”. as they left the restaurant, near the exit was a man reading a newspaper that says “no victims last night, is ghostface taking a break?”

[lovebugism]

hi! reader doesn’t like kids at all, but somehow eddie’s child is just different and the cutest sweetest child who warms their heart

✶ ┄ MAYDAY ! [ the beginning ]

summary: when steve harrington brings you as a plus-one to a munson birthday party, he forgets to tell you it's for eddie's four-year-old, maeve. (1.8k)

pairing: dad!eddie munson / f!reader

tags: strangers to lovers (eventually), slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love, meet ugly-ish, fluff, girl dad eddie munson™, r is not used to being around kids (and it shows), baby blurb turned spin-off universe <3

When Steve Harrington invites you to a birthday party, he fails to mention it’s for a four-year-old. 

The tiny trailer is decked out in decoration. A fusion of black and rainbow, of bats and unicorns, of vampires and Tickle Me Elmo — like no one could land on a singular theme. 

Steve guides you into the home with a golden hand on the small of your back, his other clutching a sparkly black bag with Count von Count’s face on it. You stop very suddenly in your tracks. Happy 4th Birthday, Maeve! reads a handpainted sign draped beneath the ceiling.

You become very hyperaware of the whiskey bottle in your right hand, something you figured would be the most sufficient thing to gift someone you’d never met before. You just hadn’t expected the stranger to be a child.

“What the fuck, Steve?” you bite under your breath, glaring at the boy beside you. “I thought you said this was your friend’s birthday party?”

“Maeve is my friend,” he answers with a stupid shrug. “Though, to be fair, I did say it was my friend’s kid’s birthday party.”

He most definitely hadn’t.

“What the hell— I brought booze!”

“That’s okay,” assures a wild-haired boy with a pretty pink grin as he walks up to the two of you. The friend in question. 

Eddie Munson wears a silver ring on each finger and a thick leather jacket despite the warming spring season. His laughter sounds like sunshine. His smile is bright enough to give you a goddamn sunburn.

“Maeve’s been getting presents all day— It’s about time someone got somethin’ for me,” he jokes.

You grimace while the two boys laugh. “Sorry…” you murmur as you pass him the bottle, shrinking inside yourself in an attempt to hide from the moment. I’m never letting Steve convince me to leave the house again, you think to yourself.

Eddie shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. Seriously. I’ll go stick this in the kitchen— Make yourself at home.”

Your racing heart quells only slightly. He must be more of a good guy than Steve made him out to be, if he’s willing to keep you around after you brought booze to his daughter’s party. Though, you’ll contend that you were only half at fault for this.

Steve bites back a chuckle as he walks you to the back door, standing with you on the little wooden deck lined with sparkly streamers. There’s a picnic table off in the distance, covered in a bat-patterned cloth and set with Sesame Street-themed utensils. A small crowd of teenagers gather around it, and a couple of their parents, you figure.

The spring breeze only half soothes your burning skin.

“See?” he lilts, trying not to laugh and failing. “He likes you already—”

You swat his chest with a less than kind hand. 

“Ow!”

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Harrington, I swear to—”

“What’s your favorite animal?” a tiny voice asks from behind you, a smidge too loud and confusing their R’s with W’s.

You look over your shoulder, face flooded with horror. A kid with wild chocolate hair stands at less than half your height, wearing the tiniest Ozzy Osbourne shirt you’ve ever seen beneath a rainbow tutu. You don’t know what to say, so you just blink at it for a moment — at her.

“Hey, Maeve,” Steve greets with a curt wave.

The girl beams, missing her very front tooth. “Hi, Uncle Steve!”

“Wha— Huh?” you stammer mindlessly. ‘Cause you’re not exactly the best at talking to people your own age, let alone to children. They’re too honest. And too loud. And beyond still feeling like a kid yourself most days, you don’t have anything in common with them.

“What’s your favorite animal?” Maeve repeats in the same inflection, smiling until a dimple appears in her freckled cheek. “Mine’s a Hefflelump.”

“Hef… Hefflelump?” you echo quietly, only vaguely registering Steve’s laughter as he disappears through the screeching screen door, leaving you all alone. You’re definitely killing him for this.

“Yeah… From Winne the Pooh!” she says like it’s obvious.

“Oh… Okay…”

“What’s yours?”

You stumble over your words to find an answer. “Um… Uh… I don’t— I don’t know…”

“Everyone has a favorite animal,” she scoffs like some kinda critic with a speech impediment. She tilts her chin to her chest and peers up at you with a pair of doe eyes, so brown they’re almost black. You shift your weight on your feet, visibly uncomfortable beneath her unwavering stare.

“Maybe like a… A blobfish, or something?” you shrug.

Her tiny face screws in disgust. “Gross,” she spits.

You flinch. “What? Why is that gross?” you retort, crossing your arms over your chest, more defensive than you’d like to admit.

“They’re so ugly,” Maeve giggles.

“Why?” you squint. “‘Cause they look differently than we do?”

“No!” she laughs, loud and golden, just like her father. “’S ‘cause they’re so slimy.”

“Well— You— You’re slimy,” you stammer.

The wild-haired girl grins with all her baby teeth (well, besides the front one, anyway). “You’re slimy!” she echoes with a mischievous twinkle in her chocolate eyes.

The screen door squeals open again, the rusted hinges screeching in protest. “Who’s slimy?” a male voice questions from behind you, a smile audible in his voice.

“You are!” you and Maeve chorus at the same time. 

You whip your head around a second too late. Your heart drops to your ass when you find Eddie lingering in the doorway behind you. You stumble over your words while Maeve giggles. “Sorry! I thought— I thought you were Steve! I’m so sorry!”

A chuckle sputters from Eddie’s mouth. He’s nearly as grieved by it all as you are. “He just left,” he tells you with a lopsided smile, cocking his thumb over his shoulder. “I think he’s helping Wayne out front. They’re putting together Maeve’s d-o-l-l-h-o-u-s-e.”

His eyes flit upward as he tries hard to spell the word correctly. Upon your confused look, he says, “I can’t say it, or she’ll know what I’m talking about.”

“Right,” you nod.

Eddie crouches and holds his arms out for his daughter. Maeve’s tiny feet patter against the wooden deck as she rushes to him. He huffs at the weight of her — heavier than he remembers and getting bigger every day (which is weird ‘cause she was a newborn, like, a week ago). He grunts when he picks her up, propping her weight on his side.

“What were the two of you talkin’ about, then?”

“Blobfish!” she shouts with a beam.

Eddie breathes out a faint chuckle and turns to you. “She’s forcin’ you to pick a favorite animal, huh?” he wonders, then laughs a bit louder when you nod. “Yeah, she’s been doing that all day. It’s her new thing,” he says, nuzzling the tip of his nose into her curls. 

Realization seems to him then, and his brows furrow when he looks at you. His face, all twisted in confusion, is an exact replica of Maeve’s. 

“Wait— Your favorite animal is a blobfish?”

“That’s what I said!” the girl laughs.

You shift your weight on your feet and cross your arms over your chest. “I’m… feeling very judged in this moment…” you murmur under your breath, only half joking.

“I think that’s the most creative answer we’ve had yet, huh, Mae?” Eddie chuckles.

You scoff. “Well, I think Hefflelump’s pretty creative considering—”

The boy clears his throat, seeming to sense the rest of your sentence. His eyes widen in a lighthearted glare before he nods to the girl on his hip. Only then do you realize the words sitting on the tip of your tongue. You swallow them down immediately.

“Right…” you nod instead. “Nevermind…”

“Here—” Eddie huffs as he sets the girl down again. “—Go find Aunt Robin, alright? She’s probably decorating your cake as we speak.”

Maeve rushes off at the word cake, tottering on lanky, ungraceful legs. The two of you watch her go and linger in an awkward silence. Neither of you is quite sure how to make conversation without her there. You decide to start with an apology.

“I’m, uh, I’m sorry, by the way. Again,” you laugh awkwardly at yourself, scratching at the back of your neck. “I’m not… I’m not really… great with kids. If you couldn’t already tell.”

Eddie grins, pink and lopsided and pretty. You don’t feel deserving of the warmth swimming in his button eyes, glimmering beneath an early setting sun. “It’s okay. Seriously. You should’ve seen Robin and Steve the first time they met her— they were hopeless. And now they’re… Sort of alright, I guess.”

You force a faint chuckle. “Yeah, I’m— I’m just not used to being around them, I guess. I don’t even think I’ve talked to a kid her age since, like, elementary school.”

“I was the same way. ’Til I had Maeve and all…”

“Well, I couldn’t tell,” you assure him with a wavering smile. “You’re, like, a total pro. You’re great with her.”

He ducks his head to hide his blushing cheeks. The apples of them speckle warm and pink beneath the weight of your compliment. 

“Well… thank you,” he says, deflecting from your praise with that stupid, posh, D&D accent he always uses when he gets nervous. You don’t notice him grimacing at himself because you’re still stewing in your own embarrassment.

“And sorry for the booze, too. I seriously didn’t mean to bring— I mean, Steve didn’t even tell me that—”

“Stop apologizing,” Eddie chuckles warmly. “That part’s not your fault, alright? I don’t know if you know this or not, but your boyfriend’s a total idiot.”

Your face screws up. “Oh, he’s not— Steve’s not my boyfriend.”

The boy’s smile ebbs. “No?”

“No. No way!” you laugh before you mean to. “I’m pretty sure I’m just, like, his replacement best friend since Robin started dating Vickie.” 

Wide-eyed and distantly relieved, Eddie stammers like a teenage boy. “Oh. Right. That’s… That’s cool. Yeah.”

“Yeah…” you echo.

“Well, uh— I’m gonna see if Wayne wants any help,” he blurts despite knowing he’s been barred from doing handy work since he nearly drove a nail through his own finger. He just needs a way out, lest he keep stumbling over himself and lose all of his cool points with you. 

He saunters backward through the opened door and nearly trips over the frame.

You bite back a laugh. He forces a wavering smile. 

“But, um, I was thinkin’ about cracking open that bottle you brought. You know, after Maeve’s in bed and everything. If you— If you wanna hang around that long…”

The silence makes him as nervous as a teenage boy, all writhing and uncomfy in his skin. You nod in agreement, and his sparkling chest swells all over again. “Yeah,” you reply, lip quirked in a poorly hidden smile. “Sure. I’d— I’d like that…”

He smiles, all proud of himself. “Good. That’s… That’s good,” he stutters, then swallows hard and scurries off before you change your mind. 

Before he shuts the squealing screen door behind him, you hear Robin’s voice exclaim loudly from the kitchen. “What the hell’s a blobfish?!”

if u have any other ideas for hijinks these two idiots (and maeve) can get into, feel free to leave 'em here! (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

[httpscomexe]

Double Trouble

Day 1 of Kink-Tober - Double Penetration

Summary: You never listen on missions, and you’re not too sure that the punishment from your two best friends would change that at all.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Stucky x Reader

Warnings: Arson, violence, fire, language, pv smut, fingering, oral, kind of non-con, forced sex if you squint, double pen (Lmk if I missed any)

Tags: @cellyx33

Word Count: (Find my Kink-Tober list here) 2769

P.S. If you would like to be added to the Kink-Tober tag list, just let me know.

“Investigators are still unsure of what has caused this explosion, but the accident is leading to an arsenic attack. There are no known motives leading to the fire, which officials believe was more of an attack with intended murder.

Only one body was found in the fire, a sixty-three year old man. After a quick look up, the police force discovered he was wanted for tax evasion along with seven other crimes that are punishable by death, including human trafficking, and other triggering activities.

The man went by the name “Firehouse,” ironic considering the situation, and his government issued name has been identified as “Donald Pastry Newsont.” If anyone has any information involving the situation, please call…”

“This shits annoying.” Bucky grumbles, reaching over to turn off the radio.

“Hey I was gonna call that number!” You joke in the back seat, sliding the thick fireproof pants off of your waist and onto the floor.

“Very funny, Y/N.” Steve, the driver, keeps his eyes on the road, but you occasionally see his eyes move to the mirror facing the middle backseat where you were.

“What? I have information on it.”

“We weren’t supposed to cause an explosion.” Bucky rubs circles on his temples. Annoyed by you. Yea. You weren’t supposed to blow up the house, but you couldn’t help it.

“I know that, but it was an accident.”

“You are literally wearing an entire fucking fireproof outfit.” Steve slams his hand on the wheel, a little more aggressively than he means to.

“Language Stevie.” You mumble, taking off the jacket part of your outfit.

“Can’t you take that off when we get to the damned hotel?”

“It’s like super hot.” You complain to Bucky, throwing the last of the articles of clothing on the floor before removing the long piece of ribbon from your ponytail that was holding your hair together, which you tie around your wrist. “Y’all are just jealous you don’t have fireproof gear.” You taunt, leaning forward as you rest your arms on the shoulders of their chairs.

“We ALL have fireproof suits. And we would’ve brought them if we knew you were going to start a fucking fire.” Bucky turns around, his face inches from yours.

“Oh come on. It was cool.”

“Yea, it was totally so cool when you zipped up your outfit before throwing the match on the ground and I barely had two seconds before the shit blew up to put my shield in front of me.” He turns the car, taking a right onto a one way street.

“Sorry, I just-”

“No.” Bucky cuts in, facing you again. His look is serious. You knew he didn’t like you disobeying what they tell you for missions this important. But this time they were both angry. Normally, it would just be Bucky, or just Steve. So you know you fucked up.

“You two bring up the bags, I’ll get the key.” Steve nods towards you and Bucky after putting the car in park. “And let's actually follow orders this time. Okay?” He asks, sarcastically.

You nod, getting out of the car with an annoyance in your step as you cover your body with crossed arms. The uniform you were wearing was more like lingerie. Normally it wouldn’t bother you around the two people you feel most comfortable with, but when they are mad, it only makes you feel uncomfortable in your own skin. So you follow behind Bucky, carrying your own bag of clothes while he carries his own and Steves, the elevator ride uncomfortably silent as Steve gets the key to the room. Leaving you alone with Bucky as you both stand at the door to the room. Not a single word to be spoken.

You look up at him, his eyes focused on the screen of his phone as his thumb scrolls along the device, little images moving through his blue eyes tells you he’s scrolling through someone's Instagram profile. You look down at his left hand, his metal thumb hooked into the pocket of his jeans as he stands there, staring at his phone, a pissed look still visible on his face.

Then you hear footsteps, causing both of you to turn your head to also pissed off Steve Rogers, the room key between his index and middle finger.

“A little quiet. Are you guys suddenly mortal enemies?” He jokes, scanning the key on the hotel door before holding the door open for you and Bucky.

“Why talk to her when she doesn’t even listen?” Bucky asks, rhetorically. Then he throws the bags of clothes down, crouching over to take out some clothes. “Who wants to shower first?”

“Doesn’t matter to me.”

“Let her shower first. She was wearing that thick suit. I'm sure enough she smells like shit.” Steve crouches next to Bucky, also grabbing his clothes.

You open the door to the bedroom, taking one step in before stopping and looking down at the two best friends. “Hey, who’s sleeping where?”

“There’s two beds. You get one bed, we share the other-”

“There’s only one bed.” You interrupt Steve, his eyebrows squinting in confusion. “There should be two, are you sure?”

“Well unless I’m blind or forgot how to count, yes, I’m sure.” He stands up with Bucky, both of them looking into the room. One king sized bed.

“Well shit. I’ll go down to the office.” Bucky tells you both, then leaves without another word.

“If they can’t get a two bedroom for us then you and Bucky take the bed. The couch will be too small for you both.” You offer.

“The bed will be uncomfortable for you.”

“I’ve slept on the floors.”

“Correction. You’ve tried to sleep on the floors.” He looks down at you, your arms crossing over your stomach in a sort of challenge. “Fine. We can take the bed if he can’t find another room.” He sighs, walking back over to his bags on the floor. “Go ahead and start your shower though.” He groans as he throws himself onto the couch and stretches as you head to the bathroom, setting the water warm before getting undressed and stepping into the shower. The water falling mutes the sound of Bucky coming back in. You couldn’t understand a word he said, but he sounded annoyed. So you assume there isn’t another room.

When you’re done, you step out. The smell of your lavender shampoo and bodywash filling the air as you wrap a towel around your hair and dry your body before dressing into your short Captain America pyjamas and your thin black top with a red star on the chest, not wanting to throw on a bra or panties, you step out and put the two back in your bag on the floor, missing the looks that Bucky and Steve give you, also missing the look and nod they give each other.

“Hey, Y/N.” You look up to Steve's voice. “I don’t want to report your actions.” He stands from the couch and walks over to you until you have to bend your neck to look up at him. “I don’t like you getting in trouble for disobeying simple orders. But you have to be punished in some way.”

“Please don’t report it…” You beg a little, Bucky moving up behind Steve as they stand shoulder to shoulder. “Another report and I’m back to being a desk agent.” You whine a little.

“Which would really suck, wouldn’t it?” Bucky's eyes stare straight into yours, some hidden darkness concealed behind his pupil, you nod urgently.

“Then how should you learn your lesson?” Steve takes another step closer, his hand reaching up to push some hair behind your ear. “You have to learn somehow.”

“You need to be punished, Y/N.” Bucky whispers harshly, his left hand resting on your waist suddenly as your hands move to your stomach, the entire interaction making you nervous as you start to pick at your skin.

“I feel like you’re both implying the same thing right now…” Your voice is quiet, any louder and it would crack. “But I uh… Want conformation on what exactly-”

“I think the three of us should all share the bed, what do you think?”

You’re silent for a moment.

Your jaw clenching shut as his words shock you slightly, emitting a chuckle from Steve's throat. “What’s wrong baby, cat got your tongue?” You practically feel your eyes enlarge at his nickname.

Baby…

“Steve I don’t-”

“Enough talking. Get on the bed.” Bucky demands, his eyes leaving no room for argument as Steve begins walking you backwards until the back of your knees find the bed, Bucky gently pushing you to sit down before they both begin removing their shirts, and you scoot back a little. Debating whether or not you want this, your thighs clamped shut.

“Top or bottom?” Steve asks Bucky, nodding towards him.

“Top. You get the bottom.” He tells him, undoing his pants in front of you as Bucky already has his unzipped and unbuttoned, the tent in his boxers obvious as he crawls onto the bed, pulling you into his lap, facing away from him and you watch Steve get onto the bed. Sitting on his knees in front of you.

“Open up.” He tells you, gently slapping the side of your thigh before reaching forward and hooking his fingers through your shorts, quickly pulling them off. You immediately squeeze your thighs tighter. Wishing you could lock them shut. You try to speak, but your lips are locked in place of your thighs. “I said open the fuck up.” He demands this time, his large hands placed on both thighs, gripping your flesh carefully.

“Steve I don’t want-” Your voice cracks as he shuts you up with his own words.

“Shut up.” He grumbles, then forces your thighs open, a gasp coming from your lips as you feel the cold air against your heat. “Such a pretty pussy…”

He leans down, and only then do you realise Bucky has his arms around your stomach, keeping you still as he leans forward, kissing and biting the skin on your neck.

You moan, the feeling of Steve's beard against your sensitive flesh making your eyes roll as his tongue and teeth work diligently, two of his fingers eventually finding their way inside of you in place of his tongue when he begins to thrust his digits against your walls.

“Good girl…” Bucky whispers into your ear, biting your lobe before resuming his marks on your throat, one of his hands snaking down to find your clit, and he begins to rub circles around the bud, your eyes only enlarging.

You want to say something. To push them away. But you feel numb, like their touch was a drug that paralyzed you from head to toe, apart from the rocking of your hips as you seek more of Steve's touch, the feelings of both of their touch sending waves of pleasure through your body.

“S-Steve…” You moan, his face still buried in your cunt as he eats you out, his fingers curling to massage your g-spot, a hum from his throat sending vibrations through your body. “Bucky…” You whimper, and Barnes’ teeth bite your skin harder, his fingers massaging your clit. The feelings driving you crazy… “Feels… so good…” You whisper, trying not to moan too loudly.

“Come for us baby… Let Steve taste your sweet pussy…” Bucky's voice soothes your thoughts as he brings his two fingers up, sticking them between your lips as he lets you purse your lips around his digits, tasting yourself on his skin was just another reason to throw your head back against his shoulder, his lips moving down to bite your neck as you come, Steves hands gripping your thighs tighter as he feels your gummy walls clench around his own fingers, your juices coating his beard as he lets you ride out your orgasm.

“Good fucking girl…” Steve groans, sitting back up on his knees, keeping your legs apart as he slaps your pussy, drawing another moan from your lips before you feel Bucky's hands move between your bodies, then his dick is against your ass, making your back involuntarily arch away, but then your eyes land on Steve's cock, which was also removed from his boxers while you were looking away.

Boy did that serum do something for him. His size was unrealistic. There was no way he would be able to fit that thing inside of you. Ever.

“Look at her. Panting like a fucking dog and we haven’t even fucked her yet.” You feel Bucky's hand come up and close your mouth, his fingers resting under your jaw before he presses a kiss to your cheek. “So fucking hot…” He mumbles, then he grips your waist, pulling you back as he leans back. You were sure enough he was just as big as Steve. “You ready?” He asks, lifting you slightly to position you over his cock, Steve staring with a shit eating grin.

You don’t even answer, but he slowly lowers you down, the intrusion making you bite your lip, your eyes rolling in pleasure as Steve situates himself between your legs, leaning forward to press kisses to your throat, his thumb rubbing your clit as the feeling becomes unbearable. You’ve never done anything like this before.

Fuck.

You’ve never done anything.

“Take a deep breath…” Steve tells you. “This might hurt…” He warns, attempting to push two of his fingers inside of you, but of course, they don’t fit. Bucky’s cock already stretching you to the limit. “Fuck… So tight.” He groans, then forces the two fingers inside of you, making your hips jerk, a yelp coming from your lips which is quickly silenced by Bucky’s hand covering your throat as Steves fingers slowly move in and out of you, eventually adding a third finger as he stretches you open, Bucky’s soft lips on your neck distracting you as Steve moves closer, his free hand moving to stroke his shaft.

“Breathe for me baby…” He whispers again, this time his breath fanning over your skin as he positions himself between your legs, his hand between your bodies as he aligns the tip of his dick with your filled centre. “Just breathe…” He tells you one more time, then he slowly pushes forward, barely getting in the tip before the mix of a moan and scream come muffled behind Bucky’s palm, but Steve doesn’t stop. He keeps pushing. And he pushes until he can’t anymore.

“Told you she could fit us both.” Bucky mumbles, and Steve begins to slowly move. Your sounds are still muffled by the hand over your mouth, which quickly turns from painful moans to pleasurable crying. “And she’s behaving so well…” He groans, the feeling of Steve's cock moving against his driving him crazy.

Steve moves faster, his hands squeezing your thighs, and their groans indicate they’re both holding back. Steve's rough touch, and Bucky’s biting and kissing your skin as your moans fill the room. Loud enough you’re surprised no one else could hear.

“So fucking perfect…”

“Such a perfect little pussy…”

“Love the little sounds she makes…”

“Isn’t she perfect?”

All fall on your deft ears, your brain ringing, your eyes trying to close as your energy leaves your body. You couldn’t think about anything.

The lips of Bucky on your skin and the feeling of Stevies cock moving inside of you, along with the feeling of Bucky’s cock being right beside his was enough to make your pupils turn your eyes black, the moans stopping and your body convulsing under Steve and above Bucky as you’re about to come again. It was the fifth time this night, or maybe sixth? You didn’t know anymore, you’d lost track of them after the second.

When they are done, Steve pulls out first, followed by Bucky, both of them watching as a string of cum drops from your stretched hole, Steve's fingers moving to gently push it back inside of you before cleaning his fingers with your lips.

“You did so good…” He tells you, but you hardly hear it as your body struggles to stay awake.

“She did amazing…” Bucky tells him from behind as his fingers begin to gently massage your thighs. “So good we don’t have to report her…”

“You look tired…” Steve gently pushes some of the mess of your hair behind your ear. An act that was innocent before but now felt like it would always be hidden behind some dark intent. “Too bad we aren’t done…”

[itneverendshere]

I love bartender!reader!!!!!! She seems so sweet and collected...but I was wondering if she's got a little fire in her? Maybe they're at a party together and she gets jealous......which is new because she's usually the calm one out of her and rafe. Hope you're doing great <3

loved writing this bc you're so right!!! it's just so not like her to lose her temper over trivial things but oh🫣 hope you're doing just a great as well💖

i'm usually so unproblematic - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) warnings: allusions to smut but no actual smut.

You’re sitting in Rafe’s truck, staring out at the huge house in front of you, stomach in knots. It’s a mansion, more like.

Kook house. Kook party. Rich people everywhere. You can already hear the distant thrum of music, even from inside the car, bass-heavy, vibrating through the seats.

You chew your bottom lip and glance over at Rafe. He’s calm, casually messing with the radio, probably about to put on those trashy songs he loves that you absolutely hate but pretend to like because you love him.

It's insane how easy it is for him to just... be cool about this. But you?

You’re not so sure.

"This was a bad idea," you mumble, half-joking but also half-serious.

Rafe turns to you, one eyebrow raised, lips pulling into a crooked smile. “Nervous?”

You give him a look. “Obviously. I’m not...I don’t do these things. I don’t know these people.”

You’ve been with Rafe for almost a year now, give or take. Said your I love yous, met each other’s families. Hell, you’ve spent more time at Tannyhill than at your own place lately, and you’ve grown used to Rafe’s kook side. His friends, though? These parties? A whole other beast.

“I already met Topper. Isn’t that enough?”

He laughs under his breath, reaching over to take your hand. “You’ll be fine. It’s Kelce, and a few other people. No big deal.”

No big deal, you think. Easy for him to say when he’s been around these people his whole life. For you, being a pogue, working extra shifts at the country club just to pay rent… yeah, this is a little different.

“I know, I know. I’ll be fine. It’s just— I’m out of my element.”

He squeezes your hand. “Hey. You’re with me. That’s all that matters.” 

You’re with Rafe. The Rafe who loves you, who can’t keep his hands off you even when you’re just watching movies. The Rafe who gets jealous over dumb things, like if you laugh too hard at one of JJ’s jokes, even though he’s just your seventeen-year-old neighbor. The Rafe who texts you goodnight, even when you’re in the same room, because he’s a sap and you secretly love it.

“Alright, let’s go,” you agree, trying to hype yourself up.

Rafe smiles, and then he’s out of the truck, jogging over to your side to open the door for you, like a perfect gentleman. You roll your eyes but step out, the night air brushing your bare shoulders. You weren’t sure how to dress for this party, so you chose to wear something…safe. A pretty red top you only used on special occasions and your best demim skirt. It wasn’t exactly kook material but at least you weren’t in your worn-out shorts and usual crop top or in your work uniform.

The moment you walk inside, though, it’s like stepping into a different world. The house is packed. People everywhere, laughing, drinking, hanging by the pool. Everything’s pristine and polished, and you feel their eyes on you the second you walk in.

Rafe wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “Want a drink?” he asks, leaning down so you can hear him over the music.

You nod, trying not to let the fact that people are definitely staring at you freak you out. You’re not a Kook. You’re his girl, though, and you know how much that pisses some of them off.

A few minutes later, you’ve got a drink in hand, and Kelce’s talking your ear off about something you don’t really understand. Golf. You smile and nod along, doing your best to keep up, but the truth is, you’re not listening. You’re too busy watching the crowd, still feeling like you don’t fit in. Like you never really will.

That’s when you notice her. Tall. Pretty, in that rich, polished way that’s almost too perfect. And she’s glaring. Right. At. You.

Your stomach drops, and you tear your eyes away, sipping your drink to cover the dread that suddenly hits you. You don’t know who she is, but she’s been staring at you since you walked in, and it’s starting to mess with your head. Was there something on your face? Had you met before at the club? Maybe she didn't like your drinks.

“Baby, you okay?” Rafe’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, his hand resting on the small of your back.

“Yeah, fine,” you lie, forcing a smile. He frowns slightly but doesn’t push it. Kelce’s still talking, oblivious.

You try to ignore it, but as the night goes on, she keeps popping up. Always staring. Always with that look crazied in her eyes. Like she could kill you. You’ve had a couple drinks by now, and your nerves are turning into a kind of irritation.

Finally, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, needing a break from the overwhelming feeling of being watched. You lock the door behind you, exhaling slowly as you stare at your reflection. Were you seeing things? Overreacting? Surely, Rafe or Kelce would’ve noticed as well, right? Or maybe they were used to this. 

I’m just overthinking it, you tell yourself. I’m fine. She’s just..

But when you open the door to leave, she’s there. Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, staring at you with that same stupid look, like you personally offended her by daring to exist. 

“Can I help you?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

She doesn’t smile. Doesn’t even flinch. Just tilts her head, giving you the most disgusted once-over you’ve ever seen in your life. “You’re Rafe’s new thing, huh?”

What? You’ve had just enough to drink that your filter is basically nonexistent now. You blink, confusion killing the buzz in your head. “Sorry, do I know you?”

“No,” she says, her voice dripping with disdain. “But I know you.”

You laugh awkwardly, nothing about this is funny. “Okay? So what’s your problem?”

Her eyes narrow, lips tinted pink curling. Oh, she’s mad now. She steps up closer to you, practically chest-to-chest. “My problem is that I don’t get why someone like you is with Rafe. He used to have a certain standard.”

Oh.

You almost laugh again because...wow. Really? That’s what this is about? “Okay, Regina George,” you mutter under your breath. You’re not in the mood for this. You tilt your head, giving her your best innocent smile.  “And who are you?”

“Sophie. I dated Rafe for two years, before you, obviously,” she says, like that’s supposed to mean something. You didn’t know him back then, you hadn’t even spoken a word to him. "Guess he didn’t mention me."

His ex. Of course. Of course she’s his ex. 

You snort before you can stop yourself. "Nope, pretty sure he forgot to bring you up.”

You feel a little sting of jealousy in your chest, but you try to swallow it down. You’re not about to let this girl get under your skin. You’re better than that. You didn’t know him, it’s fine.

 “I’m not really interested in whatever this is.” You move to step around her, but she blocks your path.

“Just a word of advice,” she grits out, like you’ve personally offended her, “He’s not the kind of guy who sticks around for long. Especially not with girls like you.”

That does it. The alcohol, the nerves, the whole night—you’re seconds away from losing it. “What the hell is your problem?” you snap, your hands curling into fists at your sides.

“Dirty pogues who think—”

"Okay. I’m not gonna play whatever this is with you," you interrupt her, gesturing between the two of you, stepping forward so you’re toe-to-toe with her now. "If he wanted to be with a walking Vineyard Vines ad, he would be. But he’s not. He’s with me."

“You really think you’re different?” she spits, voice laced with venom. "Like you're special?"

Your laugh comes out sharp, more of a bark. “If you were so special, you wouldn’t be here, playing guard dog outside the bathroom. Move."

“Or what?” she challenges, her lips curling in that same superior smirk that makes your blood boil. “What are you gonna do, pogue?”

That’s it. You feel the fire flare up in your chest. Screw this girl. Your hands ball into fists, and you’re half a second from knocking that smug look right off her face when Topper steps in.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, let’s not turn this into Jerry Springer, alright?" He holds up his hands like he’s breaking up a fight at a middle school dance. You’re staring daggers at Sophie, and she’s glaring right back, but his hands are still up, a peacekeeper grin plastered across his face as he looks between the two of you. “Let’s not do this,” his eyes landing on Sophie. “C’mon, Soph, no need for the drama, yeah?”

She scoffs, crossing her arms and stepping back with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “Whatever, Topper.

He watches her go before turning back to you, eyebrows raised. “You good?”

You nod, still fuming, but grateful he stepped in when he did. "Yeah. Thanks."

You let him take you away because if he doesn’t, you're going to follow her and throw a drink in her face or do something worse. You feel like you could punch her right in her perfect, stuck-up face. 

He leads you back to where Rafe is, and you’re too upset to even look at him. His hands are on you the second you’re close, pulling you to him like he can tell something’s off. "Baby," his lips brush against your temple. "What’s wrong? You look like you’re ready to kill someone."

You don’t answer. You can’t. Not without completely blowing up.

Rafe’s brow furrows, his eyes darting between you and Topper. “What the hell happened?” he asks again, more forceful this time.

Topper gives him a look but doesn’t say anything, just shrugs. “Nothing, man. Just some girl drama. Don’t worry about it.”

Girl drama your ass.

He turns to you, and suddenly, he’s all over you, his hands on your waist, the other settling on the back of your head, “Baby, talk to me. What’s going on?”

You pull away, shaking your head, still too mad to speak.

He follows, his hands reaching for yours. “Hey, c’mon.”

Finally, you look at him. Really look at him. And the second you see his face, that stupid, worried puppy-dog expression, the anger starts to melt away.

“I’m mad,” you admit, “I got jealous. Your ex’s a bitch.”

Rafe blinks, and then, to your surprise, he laughs. A real, genuine laugh. You glare at him. “It’s not funny!”

“No, no, it’s not,” he says, quickly sobering, though there’s still a stupid smirk at his lips. “I just, I’ve never seen you jealous before.”

You cross your arms, still pouting. “I’m serious, Rafe. She was awful.”

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. “I don’t care about her. At all. I care about you.”

You roll your eyes, but your heart is softening. “She said you wouldn’t stick around.”

Rafe’s smile fades, and he pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes. “That’s bullshit. You know that, right?”

"She’s a psycho.”

Rafe’s expression changes, his frown deepening. "Sophie?"

"Yeah," you snap, because you hate the sound of her name coming out of his lips, "Sophie. Called me a dirty pogue, which—real original.”

“She what?” Rafe’s jaw tightens, and for a second, you see a flash of that old Rafe—the one who’d get into fights at the drop of a hat. "I’ll handle it.”

You’ve seen it before—his protective streak, the one that could turn dangerous if he wasn’t careful. Part of you loves it, the way he’d go to war for you without even blinking. But another part of you hates that you have so much power over him.

But right now, you’re still too mad to care about him handling anything. You push past him, heading for the exit, needing air, needing space. Everything inside you is on fire, and all you can think is that you need to get out. Anything but this house full of people who make you feel like you’re just dirt. People like her. You can’t stop hearing her nasal voice in your head, those snide comments digging into you like little needles, bringing up that same old insecurity.

“Baby, hold on,” His voice is behind you, and his hand is instantly catching yours, tugging you back before you can make it to the door.

You spin around, already ready to snap, but then you see his face—eyes wide, brow furrowed like he’s genuinely freaked out that you’re upset. “Don’t listen to her, she’s full of shit.”

You stare at him, your chest tight and aching, because yeah, you know she’s full of it, but it still got to you. It still hurt. “It just…” You swallow hard, trying to find the right words, even though everything feels like a mess. “It got in my head, Rafe. Like, I hate that she said that. I’m so sick of people looking at me like I don’t belong just because I’m not—”

He cuts you off, stepping closer, and before you can even finish the thought, he's dragging you into him. “You belong with me. That’s all that matters.”

You let out a breath, but you’re still worked up, “But it’s like—I don’t need some stuck-up kook girl who thinks she’s better than me telling me I don’t fit in. I know I’m not like them, but she said it like I wasn’t good enough for you. Like I’m just some—”

Rafe’s lips are on yours before you can finish. He only pecks you, but it’s enough to shut you up, to make your brain go silent for a second. “Stop,” his voice is almost pleading. “Stop thinking like that. I love you, okay? I don’t care what anyone else says.”

You blink up at him, you want to stay mad, but also want to let it go because he’s right here, so close, and he’s got that look on his face that makes your heart flip. “You don’t get it.”

He pulls you closer, hands gripping your hips like he can’t stand to have any space between you. “Then tell me,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Tell me why you’re letting her get in your head.”

You huff, but the fight in you is starting to die out. “Because she made me feel like I’m less.”

He tilts your head back just enough to look at you, “That’s bullshit,” his fingers are gentle as they trail up your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You feel a little stupid for letting that girl get to you in the first place. But damn it, you’ve heard it before—from other people, from yourself—that nagging voice that says you’re not enough.

“I know.” you mumble though you’re still a little embarrassed.

Rafe smiles then, that sweet smile he only ever gives you, and he presses his lips to your forehead. “Good,” he says, tugging you even closer, like he’s trying to wrap himself around you. “Because I’m obsessed with you, and I don’t care what her or anyone else says.”

You let out a shaky laugh, finally letting yourself relax in his arms. “You’re obsessed with me?” you tease, tilting your head to meet his eyes.

“Hell yeah,” he grins, his hands sliding up your back, one hand slipping down to squeeze your ass, his thumb sliding just under the hem of your skirt. “I can’t keep my hands off you. You know that. It’s becoming a real problem.”

You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool, but you don’t stop the giggle from bubbling out. The way he’s looking at you right now, like he can’t even think straight because you’re standing in front of him—it drives you up the walls. Then he leans down and kisses you again, and this time it’s not...casual. His lips move against yours like he’s trying to take every thought in your head, and it’s working. Your hands slide up, wrapping around his neck as his tongue brushes against yours. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to this. 

He grips you harder, lips moving to brush against your ear, “You’re mine, baby and I’m not fucking going anywhere.”

That hits you, hard, like a truth he always reassures you off but still feels brand new when he does say it. Everything that pissed you off, all the crap Sophie said, it doesn’t matter anymore. 

“Stop making me horny,” You whine out, tugging at his shirt and pulling him closer. You can feel his grin against your skin as he leans in, biting your lip playfully before kissing you again, you know he’s enjoying teasing you. His hand slides down to grab a handful of your ass again, making you gasp against his mouth, and you feel him smirk.

“I like you horny.”

You’re in the middle of this stupid party, surrounded by people who probably hate you for breathing, but all you can think about is how much you want him right now. His lips move over yours like he’s trying to claim you, and you’re more than happy to let him. It’s messy, all tongues and spit, but you don’t care. You love how rough and needy he is, how he groans into your mouth like he’s been dying to kiss you all night. It’s the kind of kiss that leaves you dizzy, the room spinning, and you’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or him—or both.

You tug at his shirt, frustrated with how much fabric is in the way, and he chuckles against your mouth, biting down on your bottom lip just hard enough to make you gasp. His hands slide down up to your neck, tightening just enough around your throat, and you let out a soft whimper into his mouth, making him grin.

“You're just so—” his lips brush over your cheek, then down to your bottom lip, kissing and biting just hard enough to make you squirm, "Beautiful, aren't you?"

You’re normally not one for pda, not at all. The idea of people watching, of eyes on you while you're with someone, always made your skin crawl. But when Rafe kisses you like this? When he’s got his hands on you? God, your brain just goes dumb, and every ounce of self-consciousness fizzes out. It's embarrassing, almost. All you can think about is the way he’s making you feel, the way he’s holding you against him, leaving you breathless and wanting more. You’re so not this person, not the girl who makes out with her boyfriend in the middle of a crowded room.

But with Rafe? You can’t even think straight. 

His hands slide under your skirt for the millionth time, blunt fingernails gripping your plushy thighs, and you nearly whine, “Rafe,” you breathe, trying to pull away long enough to think properly, but he just kisses you harder, more insistent. “Baby, stop,” you manage to whisper, though you don’t mean it at all.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes all dark, his breath hot against your lips. “You want me to stop?” he teases, his hands still tight on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin in a way that makes your knees go weak.

You shake your head, biting your lip, and his grin widens. “Didn’t think so,” he murmurs before leaning in to kiss you again, like he can’t help himself, and honestly? Neither can you. You’re so turned on, it’s ridiculous. 

“I—fuck,” you pant, trying to get the words out between kisses, but he’s relentless, pressing you back against a wall, his lips latching on to your neck, sucking a bruise into your skin “Baby, please—”

He groans against your neck, one hand sliding up under your top, fingers brushing the bare skin of your waist, and you swear you’re about to lose it. “Please what, hmm?”

You bite your lip, trying to stay composed, but you’re way past that now. All you can think about is how much you need him. Right now. Anywhere but here.

“Take me to the truck,” you nearly beg him, just loud enough for him to hear, but you know he catches it because he pulls back just enough to look at you, pupils blown wide.

He smirks, running his thumb over your bottom lip, teasing. “Yeah? You need me that bad?”

You nod, not even caring how desperate you sound. “Please.” Your voice cracks a little on the last word, but you don’t care anymore.

You need him, and you need him now.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀

Forty minute later, the air inside the truck reeks of sex.

You’re breathless, flushed all over, and your legs feel like jelly. Rafe’s next to you, grinning like an idiot already fixing his jeans like he’s not still catching his breath. It’s written all over you—the tousled hair, the smudged lipstick, the way your top is barely hanging on properly as you try to straighten it out, the stickiness you can still feel between your legs, on your panties.

You feel filthy.

You bite back a smile as you adjust your skirt, your body still recovering from the way he had your face pressed against the seat.  

“Shit,” you breathe out, trying to get it together, your fingers fumbling to fix your bra strap, “I feel like my makeup’s a mess.”

He just chuckles, leaning back in his seat with that cocky look that made you want to jump him in the first place, “You look perfect,” he says, eyeing you up and down like he’s ready to go another round.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the heat that rises to your cheeks. “Yeah, well, you look like you just ran a marathon.”

He laughs, reaching over to pull you close, his lips pecking your hair, “Worth it.”

You’re just about to leave the truck when the door opens, and as you both step out, you catch sight of Sophie and her friends walking past. Perfect timing. Of course.

She’s glaring—hard—and her friends are snickering, whispering to each other like they’ve just seen something they shouldn't. Sophie’s nose wrinkles as her gaze flicks between you and Rafe, her expression twisting into disgust like you’re both some kind of wild animals who just rolled around in the mud.

But you? You feel smug.

You meet her stare for a second too long, the corner of your mouth lifting in the tiniest, most satisfied smirk. You know she knows exactly what just happened in that truck, and it’s killing her. She’s practically seething, her friends muttering furiously under their breath as they walk by, noses in the air.

Rafe doesn’t even glances their way—his fingers hook into one of the belt loops of your skirt, tugging you back to him with just enough force to make you stumble slightly into his built chest, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And it is.

“Thirty more minutes,” he murmurs against your cheek, planting a kiss there, casual but so possessive, his lips lingering just long enough to make your stomach shake with butterflies again, "And I'm taking you home."

And that’s what makes it even sweeter.

[dexteri0us]

no, i don't want nothing crazy; just wanna get you alone; and all of this snow is falling; i can make you fall too

pairing: best friend's dad!dexter morgan x f!reader

warnings: fluff, domesticity, harrison (listen, i'm not a fan of his, but he serves a purpose), age gap (both reader and harrison are in college), best friend's dad!dexter, smut - shower sex, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex, dom!dexter

summary: requested: "shower sex with dexter? please and thank you 🙏🏻"

w/c: 6.9k

a/n: i honestly love new blood and i will always consider it a christmas tv. merry christmas!🎄

Spending Christmas in Iron Lake wasn’t your initial plan, but now that you thought about it, it was for the better. You were supposed to spend Christmas with your dad this year. It also included him picking you up in Iron Lake and driving you to New York, but he backed out at the last minute. You weren’t even surprised at this point; he always went out of his way to let you down. Or maybe it was just your perception. After all, he said the same thing about you.

Going to your mom’s wasn’t an option either, not with her boyfriend in the picture. He was a carbon copy of your dad, not just in appearance in attitude too. Arrogant, dismissive, and always acting like spending time with you was beneath him, especially when you were a teenager. He’d never really made an effort to connect. So, you were pretty happy to get into college and move into the dorms. But that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted to spend Christmas alone.

You couldn’t ask Harrison to take you either because he had plans with Audrey.  

“Fuck.” You muttered, reading the text from your dad.  

“What’s wrong?” Harrison asked, glancing up from across the table. A smudge of clung to the corner of his mouth as he took another bite of his cheeseburger, his eyes briefly scanning the diner for a waitress that would bring him another cup of coffee.

“Dad bailed on me. I’ll probably have to hitchhike to get to New York.”

“What? No way! I’ll drive you,” he said immediately.

“Harrison.” You gave him a look. “You promised Audrey to help her and Angela with the charity drive.”

“Out of all people, I think Angela and Audrey would understand.” 

You raised a brow at him, knowing full well he’d argue until he was blue in the face, but you weren’t about to let him ruin his plans because of you. You were big on keeping promises, and you sure as hell weren’t going to be the reason someone broke theirs.

“Well, you can always spend Christmas with us. My dad won’t mind.”

And that’s how you ended up swapping the couch for the bed with Harrison every night, spending the first of many Christmas breaks with the Morgans. Well, technically the Morgan-Lindsays, but to you, Harrison’s dad would always be Mr. Morgan.

When you first called him that, he just stared at you, almost startled, but Harrison had quickly jumped in to explain. Not to you, to his dad, that you just couldn’t get used to the difference in their last names. He seemed to relax a little after that, though he still looked kind of stiff most of the time.

Sometimes, you wondered if he didn’t like you, or if your presence made him uneasy. But Harrison had reassured you that he was always like that. He’s just weird like that. Don’t take it personally.

So, you didn’t. And truth be told, over the next Christmases you spent with the father-son duo, you became more comfortable around Mr. Morgan – or Jim, as he insisted on calling him. “Jim” just felt unnatural to you, so usually, you just settled for “hey” to get his attention. But every now and then, “Mr. Morgan” would slip out of your mouth. And truth be told, you thought he liked it.

Eventually, it would become like a running joke between you two.

One night, during your second Christmas in Iron Lake, you caught him with that amused smile on his face when you said it again.

“What?” You asked, passing him a plate to dry as the two of you cleaned up after dinner. Harrison was in the other room, button-mashing his way through a video game.

“What?” Mr. Morgan asked, glancing at you with mock confusion.

“Every time I call you Mr. Morgan, you look like you’re holding back some big inside joke.”

“Do I?” he said lightly, his brows furrowed, but the smirk formed by his lips didn’t falter.

“Yeah.” You snorted, as if it was the most obvious thing. “It’s weird.”

“Weird? I’ll have to talk to Harrison, he’s bad influence.”

You just rolled your eyes. You weren’t going to kid yourself. You had developed almost a feet-kicking crush on him and his teasing wasn’t helping. You felt like a little girl with a silly crush on her classmate.

You remember how reserved he had been, intense, when you met him for the first time. It had made you a little bit uncomfortable, but paradoxically, you preferred that to some pretense-interest in your life. He already knew about your situation with your dad and your mother – or more specifically, with her boyfriend.

You loved Harrison, but he kind of had a big mouth on him, and he had told his dad. You could tell from the way Mr. Morgan avoided the subject altogether. Honestly, it was refreshing. Audrey’s mom asked about your parents every year – polite but a bit probing, sometimes you felt like she was judging you and or maybe thought there was more to the story. You didn’t blame her, though. First, she was a cop, and second, they were your family, after all. At least, by blood.

Still, you felt more welcome here than you ever did with your parents. Mr. Morgan made it so easy too, even if things had been a little awkward at first.

The first Christmas you spent in Iron Lake, you ended up in the woods with Mr. Morgan, collecting firewood. Harrison made sure you felt comfortable being alone with him, and you did, it was just a little awkward.

You didn’t know what was weirder – spending Christmas in Iron Lake, or trudging into the woods along with your best friend’s dad. He didn’t exactly scream “festive cheer” with his quiet, no-nonsense demeanor.

Harrison had once told you that he wasn’t always like that. Apparently, there had been some kind of hunting accident, back when Harrison was learning how to shoot. He’d hit his dad, barely missing the heart, but he'd survived. Harrison described it as a Christmas miracle, but from that moment on, Mr. Morgan just hadn’t felt the need to celebrate Christmas like he had the years prior.

You watched him move through the snowy woods with certainty, like he already knew exactly which trees to check for fallen branches.

“So, uh… you do this every year?”

Nice. Real charming. You were a master in manipulating professors into extending deadlines. How are you so bad at making casual conversation?

“Pretty much,” he replied without looking up, crouching to grab a branch half-buried in the snow. “Wood-burning stove keeps the place warm. It’s more reliable than the heater.”

“Oh.” You nodded, even though he wasn’t looking at you. The cool air bit into your cheeks, your boots crunching in the snow as you followed a few steps behind. Then you tried again. “I mean, I guess it makes sense. You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who’d be big on central heating.”

You tried to joke, but he stopped for a moment, straightening up and glancing at you with a flicker of confusion in his eyes. “What kind of guy do I strike you as?”

“Well, you know.” You shrugged, trying to not get distracted by the joke going over his head. “The ‘off-the-grid cabin’ type. Knows his way around a woodchipper. Probably has a couple of tarps in the trunk, just in case.”

He watched you, probably waiting for a smile to crack, but your expression remained serious. You started to think maybe you’d gone too far. But then he finally snorted softly, pointing the branch in your direction.

“Tarps are versatile.”

His delivery was deadpan too, so dry it caught you off guard. Was that… a joke? You couldn’t tell, but you let out a laugh anyway. You decided to just role with it.

“Right. For winter emergencies.”

He didn’t respond, just gave a faint nod as he tossed another branch onto the sled you’d brought along.

“You’re doing fine,” he said after a moment, his tone surprisingly reassuring.

It made you scoff, your breath puffing in the cold air.

“Thanks Mr. Morgan, I was really worried about failing Firewood 101.”

You really enjoyed spending time with him like that, even though he didn’t talk much. But the way he adjusted his pace so you wouldn’t fall behind, stepped on a stick that was stubbornly stuck to the sole of your boot, or helped you with a stubborn log trapped under the snow made you feel like you didn’t have to try so hard.

When that Christmas break ended, you felt kind of bittersweet, because you knew you’d now see him only occasionally when he’d visit Harrison in New York. That is, if you were lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time. But the year went by like nothing, and lo and behold, Harrison had invited you to spend another Christmas with them, saying that his dad brought it up first. To Harrison, it meant nothing, to you? Every-fucking-thing.

So now, during the second Christmas with the Morgans, you were doing domestic shit with him, like washing dishes while he was teasing you. It made your body all jittery with every passing moment. Hell, you didn’t even mind that he didn’t have a dishwasher, because you liked doing dishes with him. And Harrison was grateful for that too. See, everyone was getting something out of it.

“Maybe I just think it’s funny. You’re so committed to it. But I guess it’s better than calling me hey.”

Your jaw dropped.

“Okay, you brought that on yourself. No offense, but Jim just doesn’t suit you. It’s too basic.”

He had that faint smile on his face again, his eyelids dropped as if he was having a whole inner monologue again, but you didn’t call him out this time.

When that Christmas ended, you didn’t have to wait long to see him again. Harrison started inviting you to every holiday – Easter, Halloween and Thanksgiving. Of course, you couldn’t make it to all of them, but you did appreciate the extra time you got to spend with Mr. Morgan. He’d even helped you, Harrison and Audrey move them into their new apartment in New York. And you were too naïve and paranoid, so you thought he was doing it all for you.

So, next Christmas, you decided to come prepared.

“You can’t give her another necklace. Try to be original,” you said, sipping on your coffee, watching Harrison rub his temples as he tried to think of a Christmas present for Audrey.

“Okay… okay.” He sighed, letting his hands fall to the table, grinding his teeth as if he was contemplating his thoughts. “I have an idea. But it’s big and you’re gonna laugh.”

“Okay. All the more reason why you should tell me.”  

He took a deep breath, and then, he spit it out.

“I bought her a ring. An engagement ring.”

Your eyes widened and your lips broke into a huge smile. “No fucking way. Are you fucking kidding?”

“See? I knew you were gonna laugh at me.” He rolled his eyes and fell back into his seat, crossing his arms like a child.

“I’m not laughing at you. That’s amazing, Harrison. Oh, my God.”

“But?”

You stayed silent for a moment, figuring out a way to put it gently. “But… Audrey hates clichés.”

He closed his eyes in exasperation.

“Fuck.”

“No, hey. You can propose to her, but maybe don’t make it the main thing, you know.”

He sighed, rising to his feet with a small scowl on his face.

“Hey,” you said softly, “I’m so happy for you two. And she will be too.”

You exchanged smiles before he made his exit. You leaned against the back of the seat and looked out of the window to your right side, still smiling. You wondered if Mr. Morgan and Angela knew.

You got back to the crossword puzzle you put under your plate, munching on the bagel to fill your stomach and enjoying the faint Christmas music playing from the speakers. The waitress had just refilled your cup when someone slid into the booth across from you.

At first, you didn’t look up, assuming it was Harrison again, maybe realizing he’d forgotten something. But when you finally glanced up, you were met with a face you hadn’t expected.

“Morning,” the man said, his voice smooth and polite. It made you sit up just a little bit straighter.

“Uh, morning.” You smiled back.

“I couldn’t help but notice you sitting here alone,” he continued, leaning forward just slightly. “I’m Kurt. Kurt Caldwell.” He extended a hand across the table, his palm up.

You introduced yourself, putting your hand into his. You’d heard about Mr. Caldwell. They’d said he was a very kind and fair employer, someone who took care of his own. But after his son's death, he'd vanished from the public eye for a while.

For such a small town, there was sure a lot of accidents. Tragedies. On the brighter side, the number of of missing women cases dropped in the past few years, so that's that.

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

“No, just visiting,” you said with a smile but remained cautious. After all, he was a stranger. And you’re not one to underestimate the stranger danger rule. Not even in a small community like this.

“Really? We don’t have many visitors this time of year, Christmas tends to keep people close to home. You staying with family?”

“Friends,” you corrected.

“That’s nice. It’s always good to have people you can rely on during the holidays.”

You offered him another polite smile, unsure of what to say. He seemed harmless, but people randomly coming up to you were instantly weird to you. Welcome to a small town.

“You know, if you’re looking for something to do while you’re in town, I run a little truck stop just outside the main strip. Got a great diner there, too, and we’re always looking for friendly faces to stop by. First meal’s on me.”

“Okay, I’ll think about it,” you replied, laughing with him.

You pretended to get back to your puzzle, hoping he’d leave you alone, but before he could say anything else, the bell above the diner’s door jingled, and you heard your name.

You turned to see Mr. Morgan standing in the doorway, his presence commanding. He scanned the booth, his eyes landing on Kurt before flicking to you.

“Oh, hi.” You waved awkwardly at him as you watched him stride towards your table.

“Harrison forgot his gloves,” he told you, even though his gaze was locked on Kurt.

“Oh, right. I’ll text him.” You grabbed your phone, completely oblivious to the silent standoff happening between Mr. Morgan and Mr. Caldwell.

Mr. Caldwell stood, his smile losing some of its warmth. “Well, I should get going. It was nice to meet you, YN. Hope I’ll see you around.”

You gave him a polite nod and with that, he turned and walked out of the diner.

Mr. Morgan waited until the door closed behind him before he finally spoke.

“You okay?”

You hit send and looked up.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” You asked, brows furrowed.

“Just checking.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, grabbing the empty sugar packet on the table and crumpling it in his hand. “But next time, maybe stick to sitting with people you actually know.”

This time, his tone was firm, almost scolding. You blinked at him, taken aback by this side of him. Now that you thought about it, you had never seen him pissed. And you didn’t know how to react. Your muscle memory took over for you, feeling the need to get defensive.

“Okay… I wasn’t – he just sat down. I didn’t –”

“Finish your breakfast. I’ll drive you back.” He interrupted, glancing out the window one more time as he watched Kurt’s truck disappear down the road.

You weren’t sure if it was the way he was ordering you around, or the way his hand hovered over the small of your back as he led you out of the diner, or the darkness that spread across his face, but something was sending shivers down your spine.

That evening, it was the first time you touched yourself to the thought of Mr. Morgan. You started wearing more revealing clothes, nothing fancy, just simple shorts and tank tops that would just show your skin, even though it was literally freezing outside. Overtime, you got bolder, getting close to him when Harrison wasn’t looking, unnecessarily leaning over him or brushing against him with your ass. When it was your turn on the couch, you’d purposefully stay uncovered, hoping that the tight shorts would ride up your ass while you were sleeping, to bring a little diversity to his early-morning routines.

He was a smart man. He knew what you were doing. And unfortunately for you, he was resilient.

“You sure you aren’t cold?” he’d asked once as you mixed the batter for gingerbread cookies, leaning casually against the counter behind you. And when you turned around, you saw his eyes flick from your exposed legs to your face. He did exactly nothing to hide it.

“I’m sure.”

You gave him an innocent smile and returned your focus to the batter, smirking to yourself.

“It’s below freezing outside.”

Yeah, tell me about it.

“Exactly. Outside. That’s why we collect firewood, right?”

“Hmm.”

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he studied you. Or tried to intimidate you? Honestly, you had no idea. “Doesn’t really explain why you’ve been walking around dressed like it’s summer for the past week.”

You paused, holding the bowl against your ribcage as you turned to face him.

“Maybe I’m just trying to liven up this place. Bring some Miami energy to Iron Lake.”

His lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. “Miami energy?” He repeated the words like they amused him, though his tone was dry. “Interesting choice.”

Your cheeks flushed and a shiver ran down your arms – and not from the cold. Maybe, just maybe, you should have kept your mouth shut. Harrison had told you that they’d moved from Florida. But you didn’t need to mention that part.

You were waiting for him to say something else, but he didn’t. He just stared at you, with that expression on his face that said that you were crossing a line. He made you too aware of your whole being – your skin, your lips, your eyes, everything was twitching or at least it felt like it was.

Gulping down the lump in your throat, trying as much as you could to make it unnoticeable, you turned your back to him again. He didn’t say anything more, and when you heard him walk away, you finally felt like you had space to breathe again. You hoped he at least checked you out one more time before leaving. Your cheeks still burned with a mix of embarrassment and frustration, and your body ached with an unfulfilled desire that he seemed intent on ignoring.

But still. He wasn’t as unaffected as he wanted you to believe. You just needed to figure out how to crack him.

Sometimes, less was more. So, the next evening, you decided to try something else. You’d packed a pair of thigh-high, cable-knit burgundy socks that you almost never wore – you found out quickly it was too impractical for everyday use. You thanked yourself for not selling them on Vinted, because now, they had a perfect use.

They clung perfectly to your legs, and you paired them with an over-sized sweater that was barely covering your thighs, leaving a teasing strip of skin visible when you moved. And that was the only thing you were relying on. Well, that and your sweater riding up when you’d stretch yourself up to hang the Christmas decorations.

You slid into your Birkenstocks and took a deep breath. Showtime.

You had been at the cabin alone, but you knew exactly when he was coming home. You’d timed it all perfectly, waiting until you knew he’d walk in and see you in the middle of something. Harrison wouldn’t have noticed the outfit, but Mr. Morgan noticed everything, even when he pretended he didn’t.

It was quiet as you set up for decorating, untangling the mess of Christmas lights while waiting. Any minute now. And then, you felt a gust of icy wind as Mr. Morgan made his entrance. You glanced over your shoulder, greeting him with a fleeting smile, pretending not to pay him too much attention.

“How was work?” you asked as you started to wrap the lights around the mantle, focusing on draping the string evenly.

“Average.” He said as he threw his car keys into the bowl by the door. “Did the cold finally get to you?”

You smirked to yourself, proud that you made unable to resist commenting on your clothes. First thing that came to his mind. Meaning the image of you in your usual shorts must've been lingering somewhere in his had. It had to be.

“Yeah, you were right. I wouldn’t want to spend Christmas in bed, on the cusp of dying,” you said, feigning defeat. “Where’s Harrison? He was supposed to help me.”

His brow furrowed slightly. “I don’t know.”

Well, you did. He was still at the tavern, because you told him you’d start at around nine. It was around six o’clock.

“Never mind." you said with a small shrug, turning to adjust a strand of lights. "At least I don’t have to listen to how everything's at the wrong angle.”

That earned a fait snort from him. His boots thudded against the floor as he crossed the room.  “You need a hand?”

“No, thanks. But you’re welcome to supervise. You’re good at that.”

“Funny.”  

“Is it?”

You reached for the next decoration – a thin garland of cranberries – and stretched up on your tiptoes to hook it around the nail, feeling the hem of your sweater ride up, baring the tops of your thighs. You could almost feel the moment he noticed by the way the silence in the room sharpened.

“I should’ve bought you some proper clothes for Christmas.”

Oh, my God. You couldn’t believe it worked.

“Really? And what would you consider proper, Mr. Morgan?”

You turned to face him, watching his eyes darken, his pupils dilate as his eyes flicked to your legs and then back to your face, his jaw tightening slightly. “Something warmer.”

“Warmer?” you echoed, glancing down at your cozy outfit. “I thought this was perfectly appropriate for decorating.”

“Appropriate for what, exactly?”

You tilted your head, the corners of your lips quirking upward as you shrugged playfully. “For making the place feel festive.”

“Festive.” He repeated with a strong voice. “If you say so.”

You stepped closer, your fingers fiddling with a stray cranberry that had fallen into your hand. “You don’t approve?”

Oof. Well, go big or go home.  

His posture shifted, straightening just enough to make him seem even taller, making you crane your neck to hold the eye contact. “I didn’t say that.”

A tiny victory. You nearly let your grin slip, but you had to hold it back. You still didn’t get what you wanted.

“Well, if you have any decorating tips, I’m all ears," you said casually, turning your attention back to the box of ornaments. You pulled out another string of lights and moved around the room.

You repeated the same tactics again and again. Sometimes, you bent down deliberately to give him a different angle as he ate his dinner, before retreating to the couch and doing something on his computer. Other times, you stretched a little too far to reach something, the edge of your sweater lifting again, revealing more skin.

The room was finally coming together, warm light casting shadows across the walls, the faint scent of pine and cinnamon filling the air. You collected the empty boxes and stray bits of ribbon scattered on the floor and stepped back to admire your work.

With everything in place, you decided to retreat to the bathroom for a well-earned shower. Stripping out of your sweater and socks, you paused with your hand on the faucet knob, another idea sparking in your mind.

If he wanted to keep his composure, he was going to have to work harder. You hadn't done all of this for nothing.

You grabbed a towel and wrapped it tightly around yourself before heading into the living room, where he was still locked in whatever he was doing on his laptop.

“Mr. Morgan?” you called, your voice intentionally soft.

“Yes?”

He glanced over his shoulder, and his brow immediately fell, his eyes roaming your body yet again.

“The shower isn’t working. You think you could take a look at it?”

For a moment, he didn’t move, his eyes narrowing, trying to decipher your intentions. Shit, he was already onto you and you were scared you’d really scare him away. But then he rose to his feet and made his way to the bathroom. He eyed you suspiciously as he walked by you, but you just gave him an innocent smile. He disappeared into the bathroom, the faint creak of the old wooden door echoing through the cabin. You followed close behind, feeling the chill of the room raise goosebumps on your skin. The sound of him inspecting the faucet, twisting the knobs, testing the showerhead and eventually the sound of water filled the silence.

“It’s working fine. You probably didn’t turn the knob far enough.”

“Oh. My mistake.”

You stepped further into the cramped space, closing the door behind you quietly and leaning against it, nibbling on your lip.

He turned around, sighing as he was already aware of you caging him.

“YN,” he said, giving you a chance to back out. “What are you doing?”

He stepped closer to you, his sturdy figure towering over you. You shifted your weight from one foot to another, trying to not let your composure slip.

“Well, I thought maybe you could teach me how to fix it,” you shrugged your shoulders, the words stumbling out before you could really think them through.

“You don’t need to know how to fix it if it’s not broken.”

You swallowed hard, your fingers gripping the towel tighter, the only thing keeping you grounded, really. You could be here forever with this back and forth, words felt useless. So instead of saying anything, you rose to your tiptoes and kissed him. It wasn’t bold, not entirely; you lingered just long enough to make your intention clear, then pulled back.

You couldn’t read him, his eyes were closed and his lips still parted from the kiss before he finally spoke.

“This isn’t supposed to happen,” he said, exhaling sharply through his nose.

“Why? Because it doesn’t fit into your routine?” You meant it as a joke, but this was really not the time.

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might walk away. But then he stepped just a little bit closer, his hands bracing on either side of the door behind you, caging you in.

“You can’t even imagine what I’m capable of.”

You probably couldn’t, but it didn’t even matter. You found him attractive, and you wanted him. It was as simple as that.

“You sure you want to take that risk? All because you can’t help but act on your impulses? Last chance. Walk away.”

But you didn’t and you let him know with a subtle shake of your head. And that was it. Whatever restraint he’d been holding onto snapped like a thread pulled too tight. His mouth was on yours in an instant, the kiss rough and urgent. His hand slid from your neck to your jaw, tilting your face just enough to deepen the kiss.

You’d never been with an older man, but man, was this something else. He wasn’t careful about it. Even though he didn’t strike you as the most confident guy at first sight, the kiss convinced you otherwise. It was a stark contrast to your previous boyfriends. They’d been clumsy and eager, but Mr. Morgan – Jim knew exactly what he wanted and how to take it.

You barely had time to catch your breath as his lips left yours, trailing along your jaw, his stubble scraping your skin in a way that made your knees weak. He didn’t waste any more time as his other hand slid up your inner thigh and beneath the towel, going straight to your pussy. You gasped as his finger found your wetness, fighting the urge to shy away.

In no time, his clothes were gone and the towel pooled on the floor. He gripped your hips firmly, turning your bodies around and guiding you under the steady stream of water pouring from the showerhead. The sensation of cool water against your skin was overshadowed by the way his hands roamed your body and pulled you against him, making you dig your nails into his biceps.

“Jim,” you gasped as his cock brushed against your cunt, but his hand shot up to your face, covering your mouth.

“No.” He growled. “You picked the wrong time to use that name.”

Your brows knit together in confusion. That name? What was that supposed to mean? 

“Get on your knees.”

Without hesitation, you obeyed, sinking to your knees in front of him, your kneecaps digging into the wet tiles. He shifted his body so his broad frame was shielding you from the stream of water, making you aware of the cool air prickling your damp skin.

The droplets were cascading down his chest and over the taut lines of his stomach. Your eyes lifted from the scar on his left side to meet his, and for a moment, he just simply looked at you. Admired you. Then, with one hand cradling the back of your head and the other stroking his cock, he guided you closer.

You opened your mouth automatically, your lips almost wrapping around his head, but before you made a contact, he gripped your soaked hair and pulled you away, making you shriek.

“Did I tell you you could put your mouth on me?”   

“No,” you said with a small voice.

“That’s right. So, let’s try this again. Who’s in control?”

“You are, Mr. Morgan.”  

You felt your pussy throb from the way he was ordering you around. And for a split second, you were doubting yourself that you could handle it. What if he thought you were pathetic? What if he waited for you to fight back? What if he wanted you to be bratty?

“Hey, look at me,” he said, his voice softer than before, but it was still demanding. His thumb brushed along your shiny lips before continuing. “You’re beautiful. Don’t overthink this.”

Yeah, probably easy for him to say, but you nodded anyway.

“Stick your tongue out. Keep it out.”

You obeyed, opening your mouth wide and letting your tongue rest on your chin. He gripped your jaw again, holding you in place. His cock brushed lightly against your tongue, before letting go of your jaw and bringing his hand to the back of your neck, squeezing, as he guided you down his cock. Automatically, your hands shot up to grab onto his thighs.

“Now, if it gets too much, you tap my leg three times, okay?”

You nodded, the movement of your head with his cock in your mouth making him hiss.

“Show me.”

You tapped his thigh.

“Good girl.”

Your chest swelled with pride as he praised you. This was a whole another level of making you feel good, and you’d never guess it would be coming from your best friend’s father. And not only was he making you feel good, but he also gave you confidence, making you slide your mouth around his cock in a more steady rhythm with him still controlling the movements.

It was slow at first, but you felt that he was holding back, so when he went to pull your head back, you overpowered his strength and instead let his cock slide deep into your throat, making you gag while he simultaneously moaned at the unexpected feeling. He pulled out of your mouth, a string of saliva and precum connecting your lips to the head of his cock.

“Fuck,” he whispered, as his palm wiped your chin. Well, more like spread the fluids over your lower jaw, before he returned his cock into your mouth and fucked it. He finally let go, hitting your throat over and over again, making you gag and cough around him, up until the point tears started sliding down your cheeks.

You were so close to tapping out, but before you could signal to him, he pulled out and leaned down, grabbing your jaw as he kissed your open mouth, tasting himself on you.

“Get up.”

You stumbled slightly as you got to your feet, your knees weak and sore from being in that position for so long. He didn’t give you a chance to steady yourself, grabbing your hips and spinning you around. Your back hit his chest as he guided you toward the tiled wall.

“Hands on the wall.”

As you did so, his hand trailed down your back, lingering over the curve of your ass before landing a sharp smack that made you gasp, and wow. You’d never have guessed that he’d be such a kinky motherfucker.

It’s not like you hadn’t had a guy slap your ass before, but this was just different. You remember being unable to get turned on when your sexual partner would spank you. You remember thinking maybe there was something wrong with you. It’s not like you didn’t like it or like it made you uncomfortable. You just hadn’t felt anything. It hadn’t hurt. It hadn’t sting. It had been like eating plain, salted chips. They taste good, but they don’t really get you excited.

But from Mr. Morgan, it burned, and it was the best feeling in the world. He skimmed his nails against the flesh of your butt, as if tracing the hand-print that was surely forming there. He placed kisses down your back until he was kissing your stinging skin. You shied away as you realized he was now kneeling behind you, but he quickly caught you by the creases where your thigh meets your abdomen, pulling you back to him.

“Spread your legs,” he instructed yet again.

Your heart pounded, the position feeling unnatural, but despite that, you moved your feet apart, feeling the stickiness between your thighs. You flinched as his cold fingers made contact with your pussy, but quickly recovered. He buried his thumb between your pussy lips, parting them as he slid it from your hole to your clit, pressing down harder as he circled the sensitive bud.

Your whole body vibrated, the blood rushing through your body and into your throbbing clit. He kept flicking it with his finger, occasionally slowing down to pull the hood of your clit back to focus on the most innervated part of you. You arched your back, as he brushed over that spot, making your stomach tighten. Then he finally brought his fingers to your cunt, pushing in one, then two fingers. It made you mewl, the way he was carefully sliding them in and out, enjoying every ridge of your walls. You heard him sigh, feeling his hot breath bouncing off your ass. It made you realize how bad you wanted his mouth on your pussy.

And as if he read your thoughts, his fingers slid out of you and to your clit, as he replaced them with his tongue, flexing it and fucking you with it straight away. He was licking up your walls, the wet muscle prodding against them, making you moan. The finger still worked your clit, but when you felt him open his mouth wide and bury his face even further into your ass to get his tongue as far as he possibly could. It made you see galaxies.

When he felt you twitching against him, already trying to get away, albeit unintentionally, he circled both your thighs with his arm, trapping you against him. You were basically sitting on his face and now that his fingers left your clit, he slid his chin lower, his stubble scratching your skin as the tip of his tongue massaged your clit. His nose was buried in your wet hole now, his cheeks squished by your thighs, and you were scared you were going to suffocate him. Unfortunately, it was his fault and his fault only that you stopped caring as soon as you heard the squelching sounds of your pussy as his tongue kept delving into you. That’s what he did, he made you selfish. He was bringing you closer to the edge and the only thing you cared about was falling.

And with his tongue flicking against your clit, you soon felt the knot in your stomach tightening, until you let go. Your release poured out of you and he was catching it all on his tongue, licking everything up.

Once he got every drop, he stood to his full height, his arms encircling you. I made you feel safe, secured. One of his hands landed on your breast, squeezing and pinching your nipple as he kissed along your neck and then your shoulder, waiting for you to fully come down. You let your head fall backwards against his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck.

He smelled so good. Or maybe it was just the undetectable pheromones spreading through the air that sharpened every sense to its peak. You felt like a mess. Your hands itched to adjust your hair, to wipe at the moisture beading on your flushed skin, but you were too scared to move.

“Are you sure?” He asked as he pressed closer, his cock prodding at your cunt.

“Yes.”

And then he finally fucked you. Your back arched instinctively into him as he started thrusting, finding a steady rhythm. His hand slipped lower, tracing the line of your hip before dipping between your thighs again, spreading your pussy and grazing the nail of his finger over your clit. His hips moved harder and harder, the sounds of wet skin slapping against each other, his moans and your whimpers filled the room, the stream of water coming from the shower making a bad job at obscuring it. He was hitting that spot inside of you over and over again and combined with the sensation of his fingers on your clit and his teeth pressing against your shoulder as he licked the water from your skin made your knees buckle. He was going to leave a faint imprint, that’s for sure.

He was getting close too, or at least you thought so from the way he got louder and more high-pitched, fucking you faster. He wasn’t gentle about it. He wanted you to come hard around him, and it was working. You were getting closer and closer, and when he sank his teeth a little harder into your shoulder, not sure if it was intentional or in the heat of the moment, that name escaped your mouth on its own again.

“Jim–”

And in a snap of a finger, his hand shot up to your mouth, covering it and leaning your head back against his shoulder, his lips ghosting your ear.

“Dexter,” he said, his hand sliding down to your neck and lightly pressing against your throat. Your brain was mush, you didn’t know what he meant, your brows knitting in confusion as you tried to focus on what he just said. “Fucking say it.” He growled when you didn’t react, pinching your clit and giving you a particularly hard and deep thrust as he stopped him movements. 

“Dexter,” you moaned immediately. You just wanted to be good for him.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he praised as he started fucking you again until you were coming around him. It made your whole body convulse. You hinged your hips to press against him and at the same time, to escape his wicked fingers. You brought your hand down to cover his on your pussy, thinking maybe it would bring you relieve from the overstimulation, but it did exactly nothing at all. You kept coming, coating his cock in your cum, making it easier for him to slide along your pussy walls, but harder for him to keep his cock from sliding all the way out. You were so slippery, your cunt clenching around him which brought him to his own edge, finally spilling himself inside of you.

Gradually, he slowed down until he eventually removed his cock from your pussy and freed your sensitive clit from his fingers. He did manage to slide them to your hole one last time, scooping up your mixed cum as he brought his hand in front your faces and admired it, his breath hot against the nape of your neck as he rubbed the juices between his fingers. You watched it slowly disappear under the running water before he let his arm fall to your hip, turning you around. He pressed his forehead against yours and closed his eyes, breathing heavily, before opening them again, his eyelashes catching the drops of water from the shower.

“Next time, I’m fucking you in those socks.”

[urmum-lovesme]

Angel Baby - Rafe Cameron x Kook!reader P8

pairing: Best Friend!Rafe Cameron x Kook!Best-Friend!reader

summary: Rafe and Reader have known each other since kindergarten, always side by side, the king and princess of Figure 8. So why now does he start feeling different towards her, when all she's ever been is his best friend?

a/n: Did someone say angst? I'm sorry but I had to :( Let's see, things are a little awkward cause Rafe couldn't keep it in his pants, our boy has a new competitor and well... it's a pretty nasty ending ngl. My poor poor y/n I just want to give her a hot chocolate and tuck her into bed. I just wanted to say thank you so much for all the interactions with my writing, it makes me so happy to share my thoughts with you <3

ENJOY YOUR NEW YEARS!!!! STAY SAFE I LOVE YOU ALL XOXO -Lula ♥

warnings: ANGST!!! mentions of rafe's mother who is dead, suggestive behaviour, finger sucking, mentions of giving head, mentions of slitting someones wrists.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three weeks had passed since Midsummers. Three long treacherous weeks, since Rafe let things go too far, since he’d taken a step he couldn’t undo. It made him ache with regret, the guilt gnawed at him, biting at his insides every time he thought about that moment in the car when he’d crossed a line he knew changed their friendship completely. Every time he saw her name on his phone or heard her voice, he felt the weight of that night pressing down on him all over again. It wasn’t just about the guilt of what he’d done, though that was bad enough—it was the way he'd let things spiral. He had buried himself in the family business, using it as the perfect excuse to avoid her. The demands of the Cameron legacy were endless, and it’d never been easier to lose himself in it. His father’s expectations were high, and with the constant pressure to maintain the family's image, finding a way to keep away from the girl was easy.

Avoidance had felt like the only answer, but tonight, she’d called him over to meet up. She didn’t specify only sent him a short message;

Princess  :  Get to mine at 4 please???

Princess  :  And if Ward tells you to work I’ll come over and slit his wrists :)

He knew she was fed up with his petty excuses, and he couldn't blame her. This was the longest that they’d been apart from each other, the last time being two years ago when she went to Bali for the summer, even then they’d talked every day.

He rang the doorbell as he stood on the girl's porch, hands shoved deep into his pockets fiddling with the empty gum wrapper, trying to relax, but there was no calm to be found. 

It's fine, she doesn’t know what you’ve done and she doesn’t remember the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n shoved the container into the little wooden basket, covering it with a red gingham towel. She’d realised that Rafe had been distant with her but she assumed it was his father’s fault. Truth be told she didn’t remember much from midsummers, the last thing being Rafe carrying her to the beach. It’s not that it worried her, she knew she could trust the boy, she always has. Yet the way he was acting with her, short answers, unanswered calls, it made her feel like she’d done something wrong. However, his absence worked in her favour as she knew Rafe didn’t know what she’d planned for the day, the only thing he got from her was a message telling him to come over. Just as she placed the basket near the door, there was a knock.

He raised his hand to the front door, and rapped his knuckles against the hard wood a couple of times again, hoping that maybe she’d forgotten and he could go home. He heard her footsteps walking towards the door, the sound of it unlocking before it swung open to reveal her standing there. His breath hitched in his throat as his eyes roamed over her. Her lips drew into a smile as she saw the boy standing there on the other side of the door.

Breathe 

“Hey angel baby.” She joked as she opened the door wider for him to come in. 

Missed you

“Hey princess” he replied, smiling slightly as he stepped through the door, the sound of it closing softly behind him.

Just stay calm, she’s clueless

“I’m actually ready to go.” She spoke up as she slipped her trainers on her feet breaking the silence between them, standing up straight as she grabbed the basket off the floor and her car keys which lay on the table near the doors. Her eyes landed on the boy standing by the doorway, shoulders at unease. 

“You look a little tense, you good?” 

Rafe exhaled, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, the motion awkward, almost unsure. 

“Yeah, just... long week.” 

He shrugged it off, though the words felt false. His father’s business had been a convenient distraction, but that didn’t make the guilt any easier to ignore. He should’ve stayed away longer-  for a brief second, he wasn’t sure if he was ready for this. Y/N, still holding the car keys in her hand, tilted her head, studying him. There was an odd quietness in the air, the kind that settled between them like an unsaid word. She could tell something was off. He was too guarded, too distant, and she had learned to read him better than that over the years.

"You sure?" She pressed, taking a small step toward him, her eyes never leaving his face. 

“I mean, if you’re not feeling it today, we can always—”

“No,"

Rafe interrupted quickly, a little too fast. He cleared his throat, forcing a more genuine smile this time. "No, it’s fine. Just... a lot on my mind, you know?” He raked a hand through his hair, a motion that felt more defensive than usual. He wanted to tell her. But he couldn’t. It was easier to shut down, to lie, to pretend nothing had changed, that things were still as they were before. 

Before everything had gotten well, messy.

Y/N didn’t seem convinced. Her eyes narrowed slightly, the concern evident, but she didn’t push it any further. Instead, she offered him a soft smile, the kind that always made his chest tighten, like she was silently giving him space without making him feel like a complete asshole.

“Alright,”

she said, finally breaking the moment, her voice lighter. “-oh wait…” she spoke up as she jogged quickly to the kitchen, grabbing something in her hand and slipping it secretly Into the basket. He watched her carefully as she grabbed the basket and her keys off the table, his brows raising in slight worry. Why did she have a basket?

“Ok.. I’m guessing you’re not telling me where we’re going?” he asked, as he followed her out to her car.

This is awkward

She shrugged her shoulders as she took the steps down towards her car, opening it up and placing the basket into the back seat, slipping into the driver's seat.

He rolled his eyes at her obvious closed off behavior and opened the passenger seat, getting into the car and instantly being engulfed in the familiar smell of her. He had to swallow down the lump in his throat as he settled, clipping the seatbelt in and turning to her slightly the girl speaking up before he had a chance,

“You’re being weird right now”

“No im not. I’m completely casual right now.” He mumbled out as he raised his brows, fingers fiddling with the buttons on the car, music soon filling the car. 

“You’ve never been casual Rafe. And I can tell somethings wrong because you’ve been acting weird ever since Midsummers”

Rafe’s stomach flipped at the mention of that night. He’d tried to block it out, bury it under layers of busy work and fake nonchalance, but Y/N had a way of bringing everything to the surface, whether he liked it or not.

Well shit

“Did I… did I do something wrong?” She asked, voice softer now as she turned to look at him, hands slipping off the wheel to rest in her lap.

For a moment, Rafe didn’t speak. He couldn’t. He was too busy trying to suppress the guilt that surged up, threatening to choke him.

He cleared his throat, trying to mask the panic clawing at him, then forced a shaky smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “No,” he said, his voice hoarse, like he was trying to swallow down the words that were begging to come out. 

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Y/N didn’t look convinced. She was too perceptive and definitely too smart to fall for his half-hearted reassurance. Her silence was enough of an answer, but when he glanced back at her, he saw the crease in her forehead, the slight downturn of her lips. She asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“I can’t help you if you don’t let me in, Rafe.”

He knew, deep down, that she deserved the truth, but there was something inside of him that just couldn’t let go. He closed his eyes for a moment, running a hand over his face in frustration.

“I’m fine,” he said, more firmly this time, “Really. Just... dealing with some stuff- family stuff.”

She nodded her head silently as the car hummed with the sound of the engine now, the road beneath them nothing but a blur as they drove, her eyes focused ahead, her fingers gripping the wheel again.

“Right well…” she licked her lips "well, can we stop with this awkward tension then?"

She let out a little laugh, trying to cut through the suffocating quiet. It wasn’t forced, but Rafe could hear the underlying edge of uncertainty in her tone, like she was waiting for him to meet her halfway. She was trying so hard to make this easier for him, so maybe it was time to get his act together. He leaned back in his seat, throwing his arm over her headrest,

"Sorry, I've been so moody lately. Think I’m about to get my period or something," he said to her as his hand came out to place over his stomach. Her hand left the wheel coming to swat the boy on the stomach, to which he let out a small ‘oof’.

“Don’t be a dick Cameron” she spoke out shaking her head, yet she couldn’t stop the smile from rising on her face. 

Much better.

“So where are we going anyways?” He looked away from the window to the girl as he leant back in his seat, letting his guard down now. 

“Listen. Can you just appreciate my effort Mr . ‘I need to know everything all the time’.“ She spoke back to him as her fingers tapped on the wheel along with the song playing in the background.

He rolled his eyes at her comment, a smirk pulling at his lips. He opened his mouth to throw back a snarky remark at the girl but was cut off, 

“Stop bitching Rafe”

She rolled her eyes at him as she turned off the main road, wheels grumbling against the stony road. The boy let out a huff as she scolded him, yet his heart fluttered as he looked away out the window, satisfied they were back to being themselves. As they drove Y/n’s phone buzzed in the cupholder, her eyes flickered down to the lit up screen before ignoring it and looking back up at the road, it buzzed again.

 Then again

The repeated buzzing of her phone in the cup holder caught the boy’s attention, turning the smirk on his lips into a frown.

“You gonna get that?” He asked quietly, turning to look at her, eyes taking in the way her fingers were starting to tap the wheel impatiently.

“No I don’t drive and tex-” she watched as the boy quickly snatched up the phone looking at the screen.

“Hey!” She protested. 

He chuckled slightly at her protest to his move, staring at the phone; it took him a second to register the name of the person blowing up her phone, frowning almost instantly, 

“Why is Cooper texting you?”

“It’s nothing.” She diverted the conversation. 

The truth was that her and Cooper had been talking more than she thought they would be in the past week, and Rafe’s absence, well she did miss him but it did make it easier for her to get to know the boy a bit better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the dance floor before she could protest. 

“Come on, we’re dancing now.”

Y/N laughed, stumbling slightly as he tugged her along. “I told you, I can’t dance,” she said, half protesting, half entertained. “I’m more of a ‘stay in the corner and judge the people who actually can’ kind of person.”

Cooper shot her a mischievous grin. “Oh, no way. You’re not getting out of this that easily. I’ve seen you at parties, Y/N. You’ve got moves.”

“You’ve seen me at parties?” Y/N raised an eyebrow, her voice playful. 

“That’s a little creepy, don’t you think?”

Cooper only shrugged as he pulled her along. “Creepy or not, I know what I’m talking about. You’re not fooling anyone. Let’s see you break out some of that hidden talent.”

Before she could respond, the boy spun her, his hand lightly resting on her waist as he twirled her around with more confidence than actual skill. Y/N stumbled a little, laughing as she tried to regain her balance. “I told you I can’t do this,” she teased, but her voice was light, the playful tension between them clear.

“You’re fine,” Cooper said, laughing too as he pulled her closer again. 

“Yeah, right,” Y/N replied with a smirk. “I think I might need a lesson or two.” She rested her hands on his shoulders, a hint of flirtation in her tone.

“I guess I could be convinced to teach you... for a price.”

Cooper looked down at her, raising an eyebrow hopefully to her as she spoke up,

“Oh yeah? And what’s the price?”

“Maybe your number…?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He raised his brows, now feeling an emotion other than guilt which seemed to disappear the instant he saw the boy’s name, .... anger, …jealousy? They’d been talking and he had no idea about it? 

He didn’t like it. At all.

His grip on the phone grew tighter as he looked at her, his eyes almost glaring,

“Bullshit”

“Jesus Rafe, I’m just talking to the guy. It’s not like I’m sucking his dick.” She rolled her eyes at him scoffing. His attitude from the moment they met this morning had been off and now it was just getting worse and it was starting to irritate her.

His eyes widened at her words, clenching his jaw to stop himself from saying anything stupid. The image popped into his mind again, of her on her knees, yet this time it was different because he hated it. 

“Well, it wouldn’t surprise me”

He said, his voice low, almost a growl, but heavy with sarcasm and bitterness. Y/N froze. Her mouth parted in disbelief, eyes wide.

“Excuse me?” she said, her voice sharp with confusion.

“You heard me.”

The words left his mouth with an edge that made his insides twist, but he couldn’t stop himself. He knew what he was saying was childish and irrational. But he couldn’t care less. If there was one thing he couldn’t do, it was accept the fact Cooper of all people was getting her attention and she wasn’t telling him about it.

She finally shook her head, the frustration clear in her voice. “What the hell is wrong with you, Rafe?” Her words hit him like a cold slap, cutting through the fog of his jealousy for a moment. 

“You’ve been acting weird all day, but now this? I’m just talking to him. He’s my fucking friend, okay? I didn’t know I needed your approval”

He wanted to apologize, to backpedal, but his pride kept him rooted to the spot. Instead, his thoughts simply spiralled, and before he could even make sense of what he was feeling, he blurted out,

“I don’t care if he’s your friend,” his voice tight, his frustration seeping through. 

“You didn’t tell me about him. That’s what I care about.”

“You haven’t spoken to me for three weeks!?” 

Her voice broke slightly on the last word, a mix of disbelief and frustration lacing it as she brought the car to a stop, shifting it into park, stopping just outside an opening of trees. She undid her seat belt. He got out of the car after her, irritation still thrumming through his body. He slammed the door shut with probably a little more force than necessary and followed her out into the trees. Basket in her hand she whipped around to look at him after she heard the car door slam. His jaw was clenched tight, his arms crossed across his chest as he stared down at her. Every bone in his body was thrumming with anger and annoyance, every cell in his brain screaming at him to say the stupid, irrational things he was thinking but instead he settled for shooting her a glare,

“And now you bring me out to the middle of nowhere. What are we doing out here?” He all but spat out.

“Can you not?” 

She spoke softer now, no longer angered by his fury but more upset, she’d gone out of her way for him and he was being cruel, incredibly cruel.

“I’ve tried to organise this for you because I've missed you. And you’re treating me like some shitty ex you don’t want to see.”

He was about to say something stupid again, but he bit it back before the words could leave. The disappointment in her eyes made his chest tighten painfully, but the jealousy and anger was burning through his chest, and he couldn’t get it to stop. 

“I’m sorry I just-” 

“-talk to me please?” 

“I’ve just been-” he looked at the girl, he knew he had to admit to her so he might as well tell her what’s been going on, there’s nothing else he could say.

“-struggling with my counselling” 

You’re a fucking liar 

“Oh...” she placed the basket on the floor, arms wrapped around the boy as she noticed him avoiding her. She rubbed his back slowly as she spoke,

“It’s okay i’m sure that there som-” 

You’re sick 

Her words faded, dissolving into a quiet hum in his ears. All he could focus on was the softness of her, her warmth, the way her body seemed to melt against his, trying to soothe him, to reassure him that everything would be okay; but the more she held him, the worse it got. 

“Right?” She looked to him head tilted slightly

What?

“Uh yeah.” He nodded back as he watched her take a step back from him, his hand came up to scratch the back of his neck, his skin having gotten hot under his touch. Although, however much he tried to push away the burning question he couldn’t stop himself and the words tumbled past his lips,

“Why are you talking to him?” 

He asked gruffly, slowly rubbing a hand across his face before looking down at the ground.

“Why can’t I talk to him Rafe.” She spoke with a gentle voice. 

What is going on right now 

“I just-“ 

“Can we drop this please?” She looked up to him “-it’s just going to ruin our day…”

Y/n was starting to think that the day was already ruined, maybe this whole outing was a bad idea, maybe she should’ve just taken him to the country club..? That would’ve been easier. The usual routine- drinking, mingling with people, keeping the conversation light and predictable. At least that way, she wouldn’t have to deal with this awkwardness, with his brooding silence and the strange, almost hostile energy he was radiating.

He’s being so… bizarre?

“Let's drop it..” He muttered out clearing his throat, breaking the silence which lingered between them. If he was going to be with her for the next few hours he guessed it was time he started being a little less, irrational. She nodded as she leant over to pick up the basket, head turning back to look at him.

“You coming?”

“I’m coming.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets, his muscles starting to relax a little as they walked deeper into the trees together. The rustling of leaves beneath their feet was the only sound between them now, the sharp crack of twigs beneath his boots grounding him in the moment. It was quiet, and for the first time in a long while, the air between them wasn’t thick with tension. Maybe it was the isolation of the forest or the way the sunlight filtered softly through the trees, but something felt less suffocating. Y/n occasionally bumped her shoulder into the boy’s as they walked, easing the tension between them. They walked a while out before she stopped him turning around and facing him.

“Okay so…”  She looked down to the basket in her hands before up to him rocking back and forth on her heels slightly.

“I kinda sorta need to like…. Blindfold you…?” 

She said, her voice trailing off. His brows shot up in surprise at the request. 

Blindfold? 

His mouth opened slightly as he tried to process what she was asking. The moment was so unexpected, so out of nowhere that his mind had to catch up with the words. His gaze flicked from her face to the basket she was still holding. 

“You wanna blindfold me?” He asked, an amused tone in his voice.

“Yeah…” She spoke out hand reaching into the basket and pulling out a silky scarf of hers which she held up. She had to purse her lips to stop herself from smiling. He chuckled as he watched her hold up a scarf, his eyes flickering from the item in her hands back to her face.

“Why exactly do you need to blindfold me princess?” He asked, eyes narrowed curiously.

“It’s a… surprise?” She spoke out as she placed the basket down onto the floor.

His eyes flickered from the basket on the ground, to the scarf in her hands and he took a step closer to her.

“A surprise” he repeated back to her, his eyes trained on the scarf she held up.

“So..?” She spoke out as she rounded to stand behind him placing the silk material in front of the boy.

He shook his head humorously as she stood behind him, hands gently touching his shoulders. He couldn’t help a slight shiver run through his body at her proximity, he leaned back slightly, his head tilting back to look at her,

“Alright, whatever you say..” He said quietly, more than a little bemused by the situation.She lifted the scarf to his eyes covering them and tying it gently.

“S’this okay?” 

He closed his eyes as the soft material of her scarf was placed over them. The sudden loss of sight made his other senses kick into overdrive, and he shifted in his spot slightly as every brush of her fingers felt heightened. 

“It's fine princess”

She let out a hum in response as she picked up the basket taking his hand and leading him forward. He felt the subtle pressure of her hand in his, her palm fitting so perfectly against his, his large calloused fingers intertwined with her smooth ones. He let her guide him forward, his eyes covered by the scarf meaning he had to trust her completely.

"Careful," she mumbled, her voice a soft and breathy as she guided him through the dense forest. He felt her fingers tighten around his for a moment, pulling him a little to the left, avoiding an unseen obstacle. They came to a stop and she dropped his hand slowly and turned to him, 

“M’kay you can take it off…” She said, her voice quiet, laced with an unspoken anxiety that she couldn’t quite shake. 

Rafe reached up and pulled the blindfold from his eyes. The cool air hit his skin, and briefly he blinked against the light, his vision adjusting slowly to the shift in brightness.

It took him a moment, but when his eyes finally cleared, he looked ahead—and then froze.

His gaze swept over the sight before him, as though he were unsure if he was hallucinating. They were standing in a small clearing in the middle of the trees, but the thing that really caught his attention was the small, weathered wooden structure standing in front of them, tucked away amongst the trees. It leant just slightly to one side, the paint faded the colors dulled by time. It wasn’t much with only a small set of steps leading up to its door, but there was something undeniably nostalgic about it. Fairy lights were strung lazily by the door, which was cracked open just a bit, inviting, like it had been waiting for them to return.

"Surprise," 

she whispered, and the boy heard the smile in her voice before he even looked at her.

This wasn’t just a hut. This was their hut.

No way

The one they had found together when they were kids, hidden away in the woods. The memories came rushing back with startling clarity, those summer afternoons when they would sneak away from everything, from the adults, to build their own little secret place to get away.

"How did you… " He stuttered out in amazement, his eyes flickering from the building back to her face.

“Took me a while.” 

She spoke as she took a step towards the door encouraging him to push it open. 

“Go on,” she said, a small, nervous smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “It’s just like we left it.”

He gently pushed the old door open, creaking loudly as the hinges moved, and stepped through the doorway. He let out a sound of disbelief as he stepped further into the hut, his head swiveling, eyes wide, scanning every familiar corner. She followed after him a few steps behind to give him space. The shelves were still filled with their old toys and colouring pencils in old faded tins, football and kite stacked all atop each other, old baby dolls sitting side by side, frilly lace dresses covered in layers of dust. Everything was scattered across the shelves, jumbled together as if time had forgotten to organize them. She walked over to the small table in front of an old rickety couch, its fabric faded and worn from years of use. She placed the basket she held on top of it as she watched the boy admire their childhood playground.

He was still in a daze, his eyes flickering across the familiar surroundings of the old hut, his mind awash with memories he hadn’t thought about in years.

“This is…” 

He paused, searching for the right words, though none seemed to quite capture the enormity of what he was feeling. 

“Wow,” He finally said, his voice tinged with amazement. He ran a hand through his hair, still a little shaken by how much this place had stirred inside him.

“I can’t believe you brought me here.”

She watched him as he stopped near the wall, his gaze settling on an old picture that hung there, slightly crooked, the frame worn with time. It was when they were all much much younger; Rafe, Y/n, Topper and Kelce all standing and staring at the camera striking silly poses. The girl had her hands up behind Rafe’s head, making bunny ears as she flashed a mischievous grin at the camera. The boy, in turn, had his tongue sticking out, eyes wide with that gleam of carefree innocence. Rafe’s breath caught in his chest as he took in the photo, a soft chuckle escaping his lips, he couldn’t help it. It was a sound of genuine amusement, a laugh that felt like a brief, joyful release from the weight he’d been carrying. He stepped closer to the picture, his eyes lingering on the faces of his friends, all of them so young, before life had gotten so complicated. He reached up, running a hand along the picture frame, looking at the dusty picture, his finger coming out to whip across the glass to see it clearer.

“We were so dumb.” 

He laughed again, but this time there was something bittersweet in the sound. Y/n watched his reaction, the tenderness in her gaze softening as she joined him by the picture. She could see the way his expression shifted, how the laughter had faded just slightly as he took in the nostalgia, the way his eyes lingered on the frame.

Y/n walked up standing closely to the boy as she looked at the picture above, her, Rafe and his mother. All three together, the older woman’s arms wrapped around the two kids with a wide smile as she’s crouched next to them holding them close. A small smile lifts on the girl's lips before her eyes flicker back to the boy. He felt her presence next to him so close their shoulders were pressed together. His eyes were on the picture, taking in his mother, all of them smiling together. It felt like a lifetime ago.

"I remember this picture" 

His voice was quieter than he intended, a low murmur as he glanced down at the girl. The sadness that settled in Rafe’s chest was something he couldn’t escape. Even now, all these years later, his mom's absence felt like a heavy, lingering shadow over everything.

“So do I.” 

She spoke softly and reached up without thinking, her hand brushing over his arm as she spoke. It was a small gesture, but one that carried a sense of comfort.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

June’s laughter was soft, musical, and it rang in the air, soothing, like a lullaby. Her arms were wrapped around her son, pulling him close to her; Rafe, barely old enough to appreciate the moment for what it was, squirmed a little in his mother’s embrace. He’d never liked posing for photos, always too restless to stay still, but by his mother’s side he seemed to calm.

“Come on baby, just one picture,” she coaxed gently.

Y/n stood off to the side, hands gripping wildflowers she had picked earlier, the brightly coloured flowers vibrant in her grasp. The woman, sensing the silent observer, turned her attention toward the small girl, who was still standing by the door of the hut, looking at them.

"Y/n, come on," she beckoned her with a warm smile. She hesitated for a moment, then walked forward, her small feet shuffling in the dirt as she came closer to Rafe and his mother. She wasn’t sure what was happening, but there was something comforting about the way his mother reached out to her, as if she was a part of their family.

“Look at those flowers,” June said, her voice light and filled with affection as she gently cupped the flowers in the little girl’s hands. “They’re so beautiful.”

“They’re for you,” 

The girl replied softly, her eyes lifting to meet June’s after lingering on the small flowers on the woman's dress. “I thought you’d like them...”

June’s eyes widened in surprise and delight, her heart swelling with gratitude. “Well, thank you, sweet girl,” she said, a hand resting on Y/n’s shoulder for a brief moment, the touch gentle and full of warmth before her finger pops out to ‘boop’ the girl on the nose, the child giggling in response. 

“These are perfect.”

Rafe, who had been watching the exchange between the two, let out a small smile lift to his lips. Something about seeing his mom with Y/n made him feel... content. He didn’t have the words for it, he was only six years old after all. 

June adjusted the camera sitting on the wooden steps near the door of the hut, then glanced at the two of them. 

“Alright you two, ready for the shot?”

Rafe, who had been shifting from one foot to the other, suddenly stopped and looked up at his mom with big, expectant eyes.

“Do I look good mom?” he asked, holding his arms out to the sides like he was presenting himself for approval. The woman couldn’t help but laugh softly, her heart melting at how seriously he was taking this.

 “Oh, you look great my handsome boy,” she said, her tone playful.

Rafe grinned, looking pleased with himself, June turning to Y/n with a teasing eye roll gesturing back to her son, the younger girl sending her a bashful smile.

June pressed the camera button, setting the timer, “Alright, on three…” then jogged over to the two children, kneeling down behind them and pulling them closer to her in a hug. Rafe wiggled a bit, trying to stay still long enough for the picture, while Y/n leaned into June’s side, her small smile soft and content. 

“Say cheese!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"She was happy in that picture”

“She was always happy with you.” 

She spoke comfortingly before talking his hand and leading him towards the couch gesturing for him to sit down before she crouched down next to the basket pulling the towel off the top. He smiled slightly at her words before doing as she asked, the couch creaking slightly under his weight. His eyes flickered to the basket, watching as she pulled the towel off the top. 

“Close your eyes,” she spoke out as she looked up to him.

His corner of his lips twitched up her orders, he let out an amused hum before obliging, shutting his eyes tightly. The sound of a lighter clicking, once, twice filled the room before the couch dipped as she sat next to the boy.

“You can open your eyes,” she spoke ever so quietly.

Rafe’s head turned slightly towards her, his eyes flickered under her instruction, slowly opening his eyes to take in the sight in front of him. The girl sat next to him, plate in hand which held a small cake with 5 lit candles on top of it. It was lined with white icing and small cherries sat on each piped swivel of the icing around the cake. His eyes flickered to the cake in her grasp, the soft flickering of the candles making the her glisten in the dim room. 

"Is that for me?" 

He asked quietly palms feeling clammy. Y/n looked to the boy a sheepish smile on her face as she nervously spoke out,

“Um- happy 5 months clean.” 

...

She didn’t know if the boy even knew that she’d been tracking his progress. She cared about him, of course she did he’s her best friend, so when he’d told her he was stopping his relationship with the drug she observed him, although she doubted he’d noticed as she did so in silence. She’d noted each month that passed, a little star on her calendar, and now that she hadn’t seen him in a while, she thought it was a good idea to do something small to show him, that she had noticed. A wave of shock ran through him as she spoke out the words. He was stunned.

“You’ve been counting?”

He felt his heart start to thump harder in his chest, his eyes flickering from the cake to her face, slightly taken aback at the gesture.

“I-” she started to worry, overthinking that she’d overstepped a boundary, 

“I thought that I’d uh-”

His heart thumped harder against his chest, beating rapidly in his chest due to a mixture of shock, surprise and… something else, an emotion he couldn’t quite name yet. Y/n, noticing his hesitation, quickly began to pull back, her fingers fidgeting nervously around the edge of the plate.

“I shouldn’t have— I mean, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or—” 

She stammered, her voice quiet and unsure, a stark contrast to the warmth of the room. 

“I just thought it’d be... nice. You know? To mark the day.”

Rafe’s throat tightened. He hadn’t expected this, he thought, maybe foolishly, that no one cared enough to notice the small milestones he was too proud or embarrassed to admit to. But here she was. “Five months, huh?” He let out a low laugh, shaking his head.

“I didn’t even realize.”

Y/n’s eyes softened, a quiet relief settling over her features as she relaxed slightly. The tension that had gripped her melted, and she leaned back into the couch with a small exhale. 

"I’m proud of you, Rafe."

The words hung in the air between them. The phrase didn’t seem to fit him, it felt foreign, strange, like he was standing in a moment that didn’t belong to him. People didn’t say that to him. They never had. He’d spent most of his life either fighting to prove he was worthy of anything, or pretending he didn’t need anyone to tell him anything at all. His heart skipped again. It wasn’t the first time someone had said that to him, but somehow, with her, it felt different. More genuine. Less like a platitude and more like a truth. He smiled, a real smile this time, one that didn’t have to hide behind sarcasm,

 “Guess I should be proud of myself too, huh?”

Y/n's laughter was light and, like a soft wind brushing against his skin. “Yeah. You should.”

“Didn’t think I’d make it this far.”

Rafe shifted again, his chest feeling tight in a way he couldn’t quite explain. He wasn’t used to feeling like this—vulnerable, raw, with someone else’s belief in him resting so heavily in his lap.

She gave him a gentle smile, her expression tender.

“But you did.”

Now as she was sitting beside Rafe, hearing him speak those words, something inside her clicked. Her mind briefly flickered to her brother, and the wave of grief that had followed his overdose. In a strange way, she’d felt more connected with him today than she had in a long time. There had been no ‘five months clean’, no cake, no candles, they never had the chance; so being here with Rafe, celebrating his progress, somehow felt like a way of moving forward, a kind of redemption she hadn’t known she needed. Her heart tightened in her chest, and a lump rose in her throat as the weight of the moment settled over her. She had never told Rafe how much this meant to her, when he first told her he was going to quit she expressed her support, but never truly told him how much it mattered to her, not wanting to overwhelm him.

Now’s not the time for this  

She cleared her throat slightly looking down at the plate in her lap, lifting the plate up towards him passing the boy the cake, candles still flickering against the white frosting. 

“You should make a wish.”

“I’m not really the ‘wish’ type.”

 Rafe looked at the cake, his eyes rolling at the girl’s childlike antics, his lips quirking up slightly, he stared at the flickering flames for a beat, and Y/n could see him thinking.

“Maybe you should be,” she teased gently, nudging his arm with hers.

“I wish-”

“No!” 

The girl exclaimed loudly, cutting him off eye’s wide, “can’t say it out loud or it won’t come true.”

Rafe couldn’t help but raise his brows at her theatrics, “Alright, alright, relax” he said, “I’ll keep it to myself.” 

He glanced back down at the cake, the soft glow of the burning candles reflecting in his eyes. His mind wandered. He turned his gaze back to her, his lips parting slightly as if he was about to speak—but then he stopped. Instead, he let out a slow breath, his eyes tracing the outline of the cake.

I wish you knew how much you mean to me. 

Without waiting, he leaned in and blew out the candles with a quick puff of air, the small flames disappearing in a soft wisp of smoke. Y/n let out a little cheer- more of a giggle- an unexpected sound of pure joy. She clapped her hands once, as if the moment deserved a celebration.

“You made a wish and everything,” she teased, her voice light and playful now. Rafe’s chuckle was low, a smile tugging at his lips, 

“Guess I did,”

The girl next to him shuffled around in the basket on the table, 

“Don’t know if it’ll come true,” he added, “but I think it’s a pretty good one.”

Wonder what he wished for.

She pulled out two forks holding them up for the boy to see.

“Sooo.. d’you want some cake?” she spoke, Rafe chuckled again, his hand reaching out to take one of the forks, fingers brushing lightly against hers.

"I suppose we gotta try hmm?" he reached out and took one of the forks, before looking down at the cake in front of them, eyeing the little red cherries. She took the fork in her hand and digged it into the cake then held it up to the boy in an offering,

 “First bite?”

He looked at the fork in her hand, before looking up at her face, the eagerness in her eyes making his heart thump in his chest. He let out a small hum before he spoke out in a somewhat joking manner,

“Are you feeding me?”

“You got a problem?” 

She raised her brow playfully. He let out a small huff in response, his eyes flickering over her face. He let a slow smile spread across his face.

"No, I have no problem with that at all princess." 

He replied, opening his mouth waiting for the bite. She brought the fork towards him watching as his lips wrapped around it tasting the dessert piled on it. He held a gaze on her as his lips wrapped around the fork, taking a bite of the cake. He pulled the fork from his mouth, letting out a small hum as the sweetness of the treat coated his tongue. He let out a content hum, a small smile still on his face.

"That’s real good." He mumbled out swallowing, his eyes flickering to the cake on the plate in front of them.

“I’d hope, worked my ass off on it” She rolled her eyes teasingly at him as she took some of the sweet cream onto her finger licking it off letting out a satisfied hum. He couldn’t help but watch her lick the sweet cream off her finger. The action making his brain go slightly fuzzy and making his heart thump faster. The sight in front of him was so… innocent, but it was still making his brain buzz with something else. 

Stop that

"I bet you did princess," He said, eyes glued to her still licking her finger.

“Is it up to standard?” She asked as she watched him lift another fork full to his lips. He finished eating the bite of cake as she spoke, swallowing it down and licking the lingering sweetness from his lips. He hummed out a small response as he looked at her.

“Yeah, never knew the kook princess was a little baker.” 

She shook her head at his comment hand coming out to shove his shoulder. He grabbed the other fork again, his eyes flickering back to her face,

“Come here” 

She leant forwards at his request, as  he took his fork and ran it along the edge of the cake, scooping up some of the cream it was covered in, coating the end of the fork. He lifted it and held it in front of her mouth, an expectant look on his face as he watched her. She parted her mouth as he raised the fork to her, her lips wrapping around the sweetness coating the metal. He couldn’t help the sharp inhale he took as her lips closed around the fork, his heart thumping rapidly at the action. He pulled the fork slowly from her lips, a slow smile spreading itself across his face as he stared at her.

“Taste good?”

“Mmhmm.” She hummed back, “I should probably start a bakery, what about ‘The Sweet Spot’?" She questioned tapping her fork against her lip in mock thoughtfulness. Rafe’s face immediately lit up with amusement, his eyes widening like he’d just heard the most ridiculous thing. 

“The Sweet Spot?” he repeated, his voice humoured. “Sounds like a place where people go to get more than just cake.”

Y/n threw her head back with a laugh, but there was a glimmer of challenge in her eyes. “What’s wrong with ‘The Sweet Spot’? It's catchy!”

Rafe shook his head, trying to stifle a laugh. 

“Catchy?” he teased. “You’re setting yourself up for a whole different kind of clientele with that name.”

She shook her head finger taking some of the cake frosting on her finger, 

 “Hey you’ve got a little-” She smudged the cream onto his cheek letting out a giggle. He felt the cream hit his cheek and he let out a chuckle, looking at her with raised eyebrows,

“Really princess?”

She shrugged her shoulders playfully, licking the rest of the cream off her finger and popping a cherry into her mouth with a grin. He let out a small, somewhat incredulous scoff as he shook his head slightly, the amusement clear on his face. She was acting so innocent and yet… 

Stop

"You're a brat" He stated teasingly, a small smirk still tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” She raised her brow at him as she watched the boy wipe some of the cream off the cake and onto his finger moving it towards her, 

“Rafe!”

He let out a small huff of laughter, 

"Relax" 

He said in a somewhat innocent tone, but his eyes gave away his playful intentions as he held his finger up to the girl’s mouth.

Just as she moved forward to lick the cream off his finger the boy pulled his hand back at the last second, watching with a sense of satisfaction as the cream got smeared on her cheek. Her gasp made a small shiver run through his body, making his heart thump faster in his chest

“You have something on your face princess” He teased, the amused smirk back on his face.

“Rafe!” 

She exclaimed as she sat back from the boy in surprise. She suddenly moved forwards taking a large wipe of the cake onto her fingers and pushed it against his cheek, he barely had time to register her grabbing a handful of cake off the plate.

“Really Y/n?” 

He said with another huff of a laugh, his arm reaching around her waist, she squealed as he pulled her closer to her, smudging the cake all over her cheeks now, spreading it across her skin as a small grin appeared on his face.

“You look messy princess.” He said in an amused tone

“You're such a dick,” she laughed at him as she leant against the boy, his hand now covered in cake, the plate laying on the couch next to them. He could feel the cake getting smeared everywhere as she leant against him, but he couldn’t care less. 

“I’m a dick? You started this”

 He stated in a somewhat mock offended tone, his arm wrapped around her as they both sat there covered in cake. Y/n looked at the boy’s hand as he held it by her face, not wanting to get any of it on the sofa. He felt her look down at his outstretched hand, not wanting to dirty the sofa. His blue eyes met hers, his heart pounding so hard he could hear it vibrating in his ears. As he looked at her soft expression, he got a sudden idea. He mumbled out quietly,

“Open your mouth” 

She swallowed, looking from the boy's eyes, her gaze landed on his hand, long slender fingers with the white sweet cream clung to them, tempting and indulgent. As his hand lifted to her face and she parted her lips for him. He let out a small, shaky breath at her action. He slowly closed the distance, his long slender fingers pushed into her mouth, coating her lips and tongue with the sweet cream as his heart thumped in his chest. As her lips wrapped around his fingers, an inexplicable feeling of satisfaction surged through him at the feeling, her hand came up to wrap around the boy's wrist; she didn't know what was taking over her as she moved.

What am I doing 

He let out a hum as her mouth worked on his fingers, a soft sound catching in his throat as he caught her eyes looking up to him. He moved his fingers slowly in and out past her lips, feeling her tongue on his skin, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. He felt a shiver of pleasure run through him, igniting something in his brain. He could barely think, his brain fuzzy and filled with sinful thoughts of her. She swirled her tongue around his fingers, licking off the cream that coated them savouring the taste, her breathing had picked up ever so slightly as she looked up to the boys eyes who were boring into hers. He groaned softly at the feel of her tongue caressing his finger, and his eyes met hers.

Fuck me 

He could feel heat begin to build within him, a mixture of desire and need. His eyes watched her intently, taking in the sight of her. Rafe swallowed slightly, his throat suddenly dry as he pulled his hand away from her, a light string of spit momentarily connecting his finger to her lips. The girl leant forwards slightly, her eyes flickering down to his lips and he was suddenly hyper-aware of her closeness to him, the way he could feel her breath on his skin. Rafe’s breathing was now ragged and uneven, and he felt himself leaning closer to her, his gaze falling to her lips, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from them. He imagined the way they would give under the pressure of a kiss, soft and inviting, making it harder to concentrate on anything but the urge to close the distance between them. He wanted to trace the line of her lips with his own, feel their warmth, and taste whatever sweetness lingered there. He could feel the tension between them, thick and electric, and he knew he should pull away, he should stop this before it went too far, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Not when he wanted her so badly, not when he could almost taste her on his tongue. 

Y/n felt light headed as she pushed herself closer to the boy, her hand resting on his upper thigh as her gaze darted up to meet his eyes, inches away from his face. Rafe could feel the heat radiating off her skin.

“Y/n” 

He mumbled out barely audible as he watched the girl’s tongue dart out to wet her lips. He could feel his resolve weakening, the reason and rationality fading as the pull of desire became harder and harder to ignore.

He wanted her, needed her… in a way he never had before.

What the fuck am I doing.

What am I doing?

This is my best friend

Yet even as her conscience screamed at her she didn’t pull away, she wouldn’t, she’d wanted this for too long. 

The sight and the sound of her slightly breathless made something inside Rafe stir, the line between best friends and something more beginning to blur. The realization of what they were doing suddenly hit him, a pang of guilt mixed with desire flowing through him. She was his best friend, she was supposed to be just his best friend, nothing else. He couldn’t do this.

“We shouldn’t” 

Her heart dropped to her stomach as she heard him speak out. His words hung in the air, the space between them suddenly feeling miles wide. She felt sick, and she couldn't tell if it was because of the amount of cake she'd consumed or because her best friend, whom she'd been pinning over for years, didn't want her. Her breath caught in her throat, and she could barely move, as if the air itself had thickened, the boy sat back slightly putting distance between them.

 -what? 

The confusion crashed into her like a wave. Her mind scrambled for some explanation- anything to make sense of what had just happened. Had she misread something? Had she been too obvious? The nagging feeling that she might have let her feelings show too clearly, too soon, clawed at her, but that didn’t make sense. He’d leaned in. 

He had leaned in. 

He felt his heart sink as he’d pulled away from her. 

Fuck 

He watched as she sat motionless, her eyes searching for his, his stomach twisting and turning at the sight. He wanted her, more than anything, but he couldn’t risk ruining what they had, their friendship, the last stable thing in his life. He felt guilt coursing through him. 

She blinked, trying to focus, but her mind was in a fog. She could see him, sitting back slightly, his gaze lowered, the distance between them growing, and it was like the walls around her were closing in. She couldn’t breathe. 

Is he rejecting me?

Her throat tightened, and she almost choked on the lump that formed there. No, that wasn’t possible. Not after everything. After all the years of being close, of leaning on each other, laughing, sharing moments—this wasn’t supposed to happen. This was meant to be her moment. She had dreamt about this so many times, imagined it in a thousand ways. 

But never like this. 

He watched her expression, seeing the flash of disappointment and pain in her eyes. He didn’t want to hurt her, he didn’t want to push her away, but he couldn’t give in, he couldn’t do this to her

He didn't do relationships, he never has…

He felt his heart sink as she sat up suddenly. He watched as she shook her head, his stomach twisting and turning at the sight. He wanted her, more than anything, but he couldn’t risk ruining what they had, their friendship, the last thing connecting him to her. He felt guilt coursing through him. 

“Look at me princess”

He tried to sound firm, but there was a hint of hesitation in his words, desperate for her to look at him. 

“No. No you're right-” 

She cleared her throat, grabbing the kitchen towel off the table and wiping her hands off the sticky cake, lifting it to wipe her cheek, before passing it back to the boy without looking at him.

You’ve fucked up

He felt his heart tug at the sound of her voice, the lump in her throat making him feel guilty. He felt sick with the whole situation. Rafe let out a breath, he knew she was lying, he could hear the shakiness in her voice; he took the towel from her, watching as she purposely avoided looking at him, and began wiping his face and hands off as well.

“Y/n.” He muttered out quietly. 

She had to close her eyes momentarily to regain her composure, her back still facing him, she let out a silent breath and opened her eyes as she turned to the boy.

“Rafe, it's fine. You're right.”

He watched her for a long moment, her features composed but distant, like she had built some invisible wall between them. She didn't move, didn't say anything after that for a long time as she placed the forks and left-over cake back into the basket. The silence stretched between them uncomfortably. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his voice broke the silence,

“You’re my best friend” 

He said it like a confession, almost like he was trying to convince himself of it, trying to hold on to the one truth he thought he could trust. Y/n froze for a second, her fingers still gripping the handle of the basket. She could feel the weight of his words sink deep into her chest, where all the other unsaid things had already gathered. She stood from where she sat next to him forcing out a smile,  

“Yeah of course- and you're mine.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The drive back was silent. Not the comfortable silence that usually lingered between them- no, this one felt different. 

Tense, discomfiting, awkward. 

Neither of them was brave enough to break it. Y/n’s hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly, her knuckles white, her posture stiff and forward-leaning, as though if she moved even slightly, she might shatter. Her eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead, her focus unwavering, as if she was trying to ignore the weight of the boy sitting beside her. Rafe sat in the passenger seat, his body turned slightly toward her, his heart twisting in his chest. He’d never felt so conflicted, so confused, so sick all at once. He wanted to reach out to her, to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come. And even if they did, he wasn’t sure if it would make things better or worse. 

His gaze drifted to her, taking in the tightness in her shoulders, the subtle strain in her posture as she tried so hard to hold herself together. His chest ached, and the desire to speak, to make it better, was nearly unbearable. But the words felt trapped, like a dam that was ready to break. He couldn’t bring himself to say them. 

"Do you want me to drop you home?" 

Her voice cut through the silence, monotone, cold, as she kept her gaze fixed firmly ahead, as though the road were the only thing she could handle looking at right now. The shift in her voice, in her demeanor, hit Rafe harder than he expected. It stung in a way he couldn’t describe but he knew he deserved it.

“Yeah.”

He mumbled, his voice barely audible against the low hum of the car’s engine. The word felt too small, too inadequate, but it was all he could manage.

The sound of the indicator filled the silence between them, the rhythmic clicking marking each turn on the route she knew so well. The road to Tannyhill was embedded in her memory, but tonight, the familiarity of the journey did little to ease the tension in the car. When they finally came to a stop in front of the estate gates, the silence stretched, once again- heavy and suffocating. She leaned back against the seat, her shoulders sinking as if the weight of the drive had finally caught up to her. Licking her lips, she pursed them briefly before clearing her throat. The words she wanted to say stuck, tangled in her chest. Her gaze flicked toward him before retreating, hesitant.

“Thanks for… Thanks for coming today.” 

She finally managed, her voice unsteady. He watched her carefully, his own heart tightening at her tone, she wasn’t looking at him. He swallowed down the sharp pang in his stomach and nodded.

“Course.” 

He muttered as glanced at her again, but her face gave away nothing. She shook her head suddenly, a small, sharp movement, her hands gripped the steering wheel again, her knuckles whitening. She couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes. The sound of his seat belt unbuckling cut through the silence, followed by the soft creak of the door opening. He stepped out, standing just outside the open door, the cool air hit him, but it wasn’t enough to cool the heat rising in his chest. Guilt mixed with longing clawed at him, the rawness of it almost unbearable. He glanced back into the car, his hand resting on the frame of the door. She still wasn’t looking at him, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the lights on the dashboard of the car.

“I-” 

“I-”

He started, his voice barely more than a whisper, she echoed, her voice overlapping his, pulling his gaze back to her.

The word hung awkwardly in the air.

Finally, she looked up, her eyes meeting his for the first time. The corners of her lips twitched into a small, tentative smile- a fragile thing that barely held together. He froze, caught off guard by the flicker of emotion in her face. She hesitated, her grip loosening on the wheel as she allowed herself a moment of vulnerability. There was so much she wanted to say, but the words felt too big, too heavy to voice. Still, she knew if she didn’t speak now, the distance between them might never close.

“I don’t want this to… change us.” 

She said softly, her voice breaking slightly. Her smile faltered, but she held his gaze, hoping he could see what she couldn’t quite put into words. He felt horrible for putting her in this situation and making her question their friendship.

 He wished he could tell her he didn’t want this to change them either, but he did. He was lying earlier, he wanted more than just friendship from her. He wanted to be more than just her best friend.

His breath hitched at her words, and for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. 

“Yeah… yeah, you’re right,” 

He said finally, his voice stiff, he nodded slightly, more to himself than to her, as if trying to convince himself of the truth in his own words. 

Fucking say something to me 

She blinked at him, her brows furrowing just a little, unsure what to make of his response. 

“That’s all you’re gonna say?” 

“What do you want me to say?” 

He shot back, his tone sharper than he’d intended. He winced at himself and softened immediately, running a hand through his hair. 

“I mean… I don’t know what to say.”

Her lips pressed together tightly, and she exhaled through her nose, her gaze fixed on the dashboard. 

“Yeah, well… neither do I,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

The silence that followed was suffocating, the awkwardness palpable. He stood there, half-in and half-out of the car, shuffling his feet against the gravel. Every second stretched uncomfortably long.

“We’re friends Y/n. That’s all we’ll ever be.” 

He gestured vaguely between them as he spoke. He didn’t even believe what he was saying, but he told himself it was for the best.

What are you talking about?

Stop talking 

Y/n didn’t respond immediately. She didn’t say anything at all. Instead, she slowly glanced at him, but only for a second- just enough for him to catch the faint shimmer of tears in her eyes before she quickly looked away.

“Right…” she whispered, her voice strained and hollow.

He opened his mouth to say something else, anything to fix it, but no words came, he let out a sigh, hand rubbing down his face.

“I’ll see you later,” 

Rafe said, his voice trailing off, she didn’t speak, didn’t move to look at him, instead she let out a small hum of acknowledgement. Her head finally turned towards the sound of the car door shutting. She sat in the driver’s seat, gripping the steering wheel so tightly her hands were sore. Her eyes followed him as he walked up the path to his house, his steps slow, the porch light flickered on as he reached the door, casting a soft glow around him. He paused with his hand on the doorknob, glancing back toward her car for a moment. Her breath caught, her heart foolishly leaping in her chest, hoping- praying- he’d come back and tell her it was a mistake, that he hadn’t meant anything of what he’d said.

But he didn’t.

He turned back to the door, pushed it open, and stepped inside.

She sat frozen, staring at the now-empty porch, her mind racing and her chest tightening. Her lip trembled and her vision blurred as tears pooled in her eyes. She blinked hard, trying to push them back, but it was useless as they slid down her cheeks. A sob broke past her lips, filling the silence that had pressed down on her for the past few hours. She slammed her hand against the steering wheel, her whole body trembling as the tears came in waves. Her forehead dropped onto the wheel, the cold leather pressing against her skin as she shook with the force of her crying.

How could she have been so wrong? So embarrassingly, painfully wrong?

“We’re friends Y/n. That’s all we’ll ever be”

She thought he’d cared—really cared. She thought there had been something between them. All those moments they’d shared, the late-night conversations, the way he’d smiled at her, the way he made her feel seen when no one else did- it had to mean something. The answer was glaringly obvious now, and it made her feel sick. Of course, it hadn’t meant anything to him. Not the way it had to her. She’d let herself believe in something that was never there.

Her sobs grew quieter, but they didn’t stop. Her chest ached as she sat there, her nose blocked as she sniffled. She hated herself for thinking he could ever see her as anything more than a friend. Her tears soaked her cheeks, and she wiped at them furiously, her hands shaking. She felt stupid, exposed, and humiliated. She let her head fall back against the seat, staring up at the ceiling of the car, her breath coming in shakily. She looked back toward the house one last time, the darkened windows staring back at her like empty eyes. 

And for the first time, she wondered if holding onto him was worth it.

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