#apparently they all have nicknames who knew | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

86espresso · 3 months ago

Text

secrets i have held in my heart, are harder to hide than i thought ✯ jh86

sum: “I really like you.” *looks around* “are you sure-”

// jack x med student

warnings: 18+, oral (f & m receiving), mentions of familial neglect, cursing, kissing, stress, anxiety, doubt, pet tigers, jack thinking too hard, reader is insecure don’t know what for 💔, overuse of commas because im insane, happy ending, a lil too sappy (i say this with emphasis), i mean it there’s a whole lotta CHEESE, mostly fluff, very emotional and hearty pls im sorry im a lover. afab!reader w/ she/her pronouns :)

w/c; 7.6k

a/n: hey so yeah. wtf. the word count?? i had so much fun writing this. half scared that its boring. i love simp / munch jack. ps: as queen as y/n is, i gave reader a nickname, sorry. (a very … unique nickname. i myself am puzzled as to how my brain works) enjoy. or at least try to. under the cut !

THE library was unsurprisingly almost empty considering the fact that no sane person would want to step outside in this rainstorm, so you were content in studying organic chemistry in the very back, alone with your thoughts, your textbooks, folklore by Taylor Swift, and now a guy. Who decided that he will break the silence in the almost empty library.

You were in your world, as always, not really connecting or associating with things around you but the ruckus of the someone knocking over an umbrella stand and profusely apologizing to apparently no one made you lift your head up. You smile slightly before going back to your work, barely registering your surroundings.

Sure, Jack was entirely focused on his friends, studies, and hockey back in high school, but he was an expert at faces and names and could jot down absolutely anyone that he knows he’s seen before. He knew exactly who the girl with dark circles and way-too-oversized hoodie in the back was.

At least five minutes later, Jack started hovering near your spot, which was the romance aisle. You sneak a glance at him and take note of his athletic shorts and New York Giants hoodie and quickly denote that this man was definitely not the romance novel type (or maybe book type at all). After flipping mindlessly through another book he lets out a soft “fuck it” before turning to face you completely.

You can’t help but crack a smile at his jump when he saw that you had already been staring at him with wide, voidfull eyes.

A pause. You staring at him. Him staring at you. He cracks a dopey smile, blinding you with his paper white teeth, and pulls up a chair in front of you.

“What’s up, Dee?” He asks holding his hand up for a dap. Bewildered at how this complete stranger knows your nickname amongst close friends (from when you gracefully told people that ‘the bags under your eyes are Dior’), you dap him back anyway and blurt, “I have never seen you before.”

“You went to my high school. We worked in a project in like, AP World I think? I dunno. But I remember you saved my grade that whole year.”

Your mind remains blank. You saved a lot of people’s grades.

“My only high school memories are countless APs, pain, suffering, studying and depression.”

Most people would blanch at your dreamy straightforwardness, but Jack just grinned again.

“Yeah, I remember you were always tired but also really funny. And tired. Deja Vu, man, watching you sit here, laser focused on your books. I was on the hockey team, if that helps.”

I furrow my brows, thinking hard.

“I do remember that our hockey guys were really good. They would announce their names like every day on the speakers because they won all the time.”

Jack groans at the memory. He was well known but it was just uncomfortable having your last names called out where the whole school could hear.

You laugh at his reaction. “They would call the same names over and over. I don’t know if it was you who used to hide your face every time they did it but yeah.”

Jack perked up. “Yeah that was me.”

You take a moment to admire his boyish facial features and athletic build. He’s pretty.

‘Don’t even think about it’ pretty.

“Dang. You were like a superstar. Sorry I don’t remember much. I’m like, walking jet lag.”

He laughs a typical frat boy laugh (if that makes sense) and you like it. You want to hear it again.

“So, what are you doing out here? Never pegged you for a big city girl.”

“I go to college here.”

“Damn, we should’ve met sooner. My name is Jack, by the way.”

“My friends call me Dee, but I guess you knew that.”

You were left pondering as to why a hockey player from high school was even anticipating meeting you; people only approached you for notes and the occasional party invitation back then.

“So, uh- what about you? Make it big in the league thingy yet?”

He breaths a laugh. “You could say that.”

“Who do you play for?”

“New Jersey.”

“Prudential, isn’t it? That’s close by my apartment.” I say in thought.

Jack grins. “Really? We might bump into each other often, then.”

He looks genuinely excited.

Why.

What’s going on.

You chat for a few more minutes but it’s mostly you saying out of pocket things and Jack laughing instead of side-eyeing you and walking away. You were surprised at his effortless kindness.

“Phone.”

“Hm?”

“Or Snap? Whatever you feel like is best,” he says, pulling out his phone. It takes a second to register that he’s implying that you exchange contact information.

“Don’t really use Snapchat. I kinda have too much on my plate right now.” You hand over your phone.

“You always overwork yourself, you should be at the club. You’ll die on the inside.”

“Nothing I can’t handle, I hope.”

You just need to push through and never ever have fun.

He checks the time and sighs.

“I was just here to return a book but I gotta head back. Flight for a roadie takes off in a couple hours. I’ll be back in, like, four days? I hope to see you around then?”

You match his soft smile and nod, whatever roadie means but okay. It was actually nice, wasting some valuable study time for a potential friend. He’s cool.

“Yeah. See you.” You offer and huff a laugh as he reaches out to dap you up again.

That night, after yet another long and winding day with the only highlight being meeting someone who was apparently a high school acquaintance, you decide to look him up. Surprised at the absolute famethat this man had loaded, your lips parting at every detail, you click on his instagram and officially unhinge your jaw.

500k followers?

You’re never on insta but that can’t be good.

The shock of how you basically were bonding with someone who definitely downplayed how famous he was didn’t wear off a week later; he texted you quite often and you tried to text back without seeming dry.

It was nearly a week later when he offered to meet up again.

-> two questions

babies come from the baby store.

-> wtf

sorry. ask away !

-> 1. are you at the library rn

do you still like the caramel frappe from dunkin

yes. and yes. what the hell are you doing.

-> something nice. see u soon angel.

angel is wild when I look like I snuck on this earth but thanks for that anyways. you’re very kind :))

-> kind enough to tell you to that you’re really pretty :))

*reacted with heart emoji*

You check your forehead temperature to make sure you hadn’t just imagined the whole conversation.

It wasn’t long before Jack was strutting into the library with two dunkin’ shakes in his hands accompanied by his gorgeous smile when he spotted you in the back, once again.

“You’re wearing glasses today.” He says when you look up at his outstretched hand. You reach forward with a grateful smile, and deja vu hits you hard. The same exact scene playing out in high school when he had asked everyone in some group project their favorite drinks and treated them when they all got an A.

“I remember you,” you say as he flopped on the bean bag next to you with his own drink.

“Yeah? I knew you would. You’re too smart.” He says, again dazzling you with his perfect smile as he lifts two fingers to tap your temple softly to emphasize his point. It’s a challenge to tear your eyes away from his baby blues.

“Your eyes are so blue. It’s distracting.”

Jack’s eyes widen at your unintentional rebuttal at his subtle flirting, and he smirks. He knew that you weren’t aware that you were being flirted with the past week; what you lacked in emotional and social intelligence was shadowed by your sharpness in academics.

“Hey, you didn’t tell me you were a really big deal around here? Everyone knows you and you have like a million followers.”

“Stalking me?”

“Educating myself.”

Jack laughs and throws as arm around you to peer over your shoulder.

“Well, I don’t just go around telling people how good I am. So, whatcha doing?”

The contact makes you freeze up and once again the surreality of a man wanting to spend time with you disorients you a little bit.

“Watching porn.”

Jack laughs again and earns a stern look from the clerk down the aisle.

“I’m studying anatomy.”

“Yeah, didn’t suspect any less than med school for your smartass.”

You turn to him to talk back but his face was inches away from you and that sets off alarm bells throughout your body. You’ve had your fair share of guys and girls but there was not a single string attached and the short flings were easy to forget.

But having someone that pretty, that close to you, not showing exactly what intentions he had? That caused your anxiety to spike. Positively.

“Your face is really close.” You simply state, pushing your large frames higher up your nose.

“And yours is really red.”

You immediately press your hands against your cheeks and groan at what you picture your face looks like. Jack just giggles again and pulls your hands away.

“It’s cute.”

His hands are still on your wrists.

“It really isn’t, but thank you. You’re very kind.”

There’s a beat of silence where you can see the gears in his head turning.

“Do you like aquariums?”

You surprise yourself and Jack when you pull him into a hug as a greeting outside the aquarium.

The feel of your chests touching with little fabric in between set Jack’s heart off racing and the way your curves dipped at your hips had him pulling at his collar.

But most of all, when he pulled back from the hug, he noticed you were wearing shorts that had your legs all out for him to ogle over.

“You hidin’ all that?” He scans your figure, noting the dark, low cut, full sleeve top.

“What? All this?” You say as you push your tits together. “There’s not much to hide.”

Jack’s throat runs dry. Unfortunately for him, he’s still a guy and tits still make him drool. And the fact that you had no idea you were keeping him on his toes

“Be for real.” He rolls his eyes. “How’d your day go?”

“Nice, actually. I just took Nala for a walk and-“ you cut yourself off.

“I didn’t know you had a pet? Can I see her? I love anim-“

“She’s a tiger.”

You give him more and more reasons everyday as to why him hanging out with you was unethical and strange but he seemed to keep on staying. Studying you as if intrigued by your strangeness.

“You- have a pet..tiger?”

Yeah. I’ve done it.

“I- yeah.”

It seems like all Jack ever does is grin because he’s doing it again and flinging an arm around your shoulder as he starts to walk with you.

“Oh, Dee. There’s just so much to learn and love about you.”

It takes you a second to react.

“That may be the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“You serious?”

“Yeah. Well, cause I was ugly growing up, and people always thought I was strange. It’s hard to imagine that people are genuinely interested in any sort of friendship with me.”

Jacks fingertips on your bare collarbone, his cologne and aftershave, his figure pressed against your side; all of it was overtaking your senses.

“Baby, why do you think I walked up to you that day in the first place? You may not remember much but I do. You were so kind and honest. And so intriguing. And hardworking. And pretty. I think your dark circles are hot.”

You huff out a laugh and ignore the flutter in your chest at ‘baby’.

Jack looks down at you with a gaze that he can’t pinpoint. You’re just very, very endearing to him. He needs to show you all kinds of fun so you laugh like that again.

“You smell nice.” You say and hesitate before loosening yourself against him more. He hums at the increased contact and at your compliment, smiling against your hair.

“Thank you.”

To say you had the absolute time of your life at the aquarium was an understatement. Jack got to see a side of you that loved fun, that was carefree, and didn’t have that goddamn crease in your eyebrows. You were the one pulling him around, telling him you wanted to be a marine biologist as a kid and that you recognize most of the species. Jack made sure to snap a few pictures of you when you weren’t looking, the lightning shaped twinkle in your eyes a memory he wanted to keep forever.

Later that day, Jack drove you back to your apartment, mentally noting that you were about a fifteen minute drive from his place.

“Nala?” You coo out softly as you push open the door and drag Jack inside, not giving him the chance to protest. Jack looks around at your apartment. It’s small and messy, but organized in some places. He jumps and lets out a brief scream when a fucking tiger is bounding towards you at full speed and knocking you over with a hug. You laugh as your beloved Nala starts licking up your face and you both roll on the floor.

Jack’s breathing calms a little as he remembers who owns the tiger.

“I’ll put her away for now.” You say, reading Jack’s skepticism. He sighed in relief.

“Oh good. Because as much as you reassured me and as man as I am, she’s still a tiger.” You giggle at his words and guide Nala towards her room.

The sound makes Jack smile stupidly. His heart stutters and he wants to put your little laugh on replay. He can’t believe that a girl who stated random medical facts at any time, who lost sleep because ‘she just forgot that it’s important’, who barely remembered him from a while ago even though he remembered everything, who waves at planes as they fly overhead, who didn’t know shit about the sport he played, had him wrapped tightly around her finger.

He takes a moment to observe your apartment. The stacks of medical related books that he doesn’t want to and never will understand, the old record player sitting in the corner of the kitchen, a huge jar of nutella on the coffee table, a questionable fluffy purple blanket on your sofa. Just little things that made you all the more real to him.

And he still wants to know more. He wants to know your sleep schedule so he knows that you’re getting enough sleep and when to text or call, he wants to know what you dream of, he wants to know your passions besides studying, he wants to know what made you become so numb and detached, how you still managed to have a twinkle in your eye when you experienced emotion.

But, as he leans to the counter for support at his racing mind and as you enter the room, still clad in your godforsaken low cut top and curve-hugging shorts, he most of all wants to know what you are like, what your lips would feel like molded against his, how you’d moan or whimper at his touch. He’s still leaning against the counter as he recalls when you unabashedly pushed your tits together just hours ago.

“You alright?” You ask, but you yourself seemed to have distressed eyebrow lines.

“Uh? Oh yeah. I was just.” He gestures around your apartment. “Observing.”

You nod, still lost in thought.

“Are you okay?” He asks, not liking the stress in your body language.

“Yeah. It’s just, I have two projects due next week and I’ve been studying for something else so I completely forgot about them.” You frown, feeling tears pool in your eyes. You can’t cry in front of Jack. If everything else didn’t make him abandon you, then this would.

“Woah. Hey, hey.” Jack is by your side immediately. He feels guilty for thinking of you sinfully while you were in distress but he really couldn’t help it. You blink back the tears and shrug it off.

“It gets kind of a lot sometimes, y’know?” Jack follows you to the couch and sits next to you, immediately taking your hands in his and pulling your legs onto his lap. You gave up on keeping your cool when he does that and give him a bewildered expression. Being taken care of is so strange.

“And? Go on, baby.” He smiles softly and encouragingly, dropping one of your hands to hold your chin for a moment before grabbing your hand again.

You blink.

“Well, It’s probably not as much as I’m stressing it out to be. I’m about to abuse substances.”

“Now don’t do that. There’s lots of ways to destress yourself.” Jack’s hand wanders again, resting on your bare knee. His movements are soft and gentle, but they still cause a foreign spark through your body. You dryly cough before registering his words and looking at Jack’s hand that had inched higher by the slightest.

“Is this flirting?” Rushed out of your mouth and Jack chuckles, a normal sound but an octave lower.

“Sure is, baby. You’re learning fast.” He’s staring your eyes down, and all of a sudden he’s consuming your senses again. His cologne is still there, his insane blues are glued to yours, his deep breathing is signifying his increasing heart rate. His hand inches higher as he moves closer.

“Why don’t I just,” shrug, “eat you out? ‘S a better high than drugs-” His phone buzzes in his pocket.

Jack huffs and pulls away, leaving your insides churning at the his lingering touch and words??? The implication alone, the images conjuring in your head were nothing short of filthy.

He scowls as he takes the call, muttering something about how it’s his agent and he’ll get in trouble if he doesn’t answer. His responses are curt and his expression neutral, but his hand is gripping your thigh with intensity. As he hangs up the call and tosses his phone aside, his hand is almost at your inner thigh and he maneuvers himself to be directly on his knees on the floor in front of you.

The sudden movement and his face looking up at yours between your slightly parted legs has your pussy throbbing. It’s been weeks since you were.. in this particular position with someone and god did it feel nice that it was the finest man in world to unpause your sex life.

He leans up to be face level with you. “Do you trust me, baby?” You never noticed how sultry his natural voice was.

His eyes search yours for any kind of discomfort as his hand reaches forward to cup your cheek. You nod in conformation as he moves closer.

Your breath hitches as he presses his lips to your cheek, dangerously close to your mouth. It confuses you slightly as to why he didn’t just kiss you but both of his hands on your waistband distracts you.

“Can I take these off?” He questions and you nod once again, not trusting your voice.

He’s doing everything in slow motion and you think it alludes to your sensitivity earlier, but anticipation and his hands cloud everything in your mind.

What kind of guy just? offers to eat you out? to help you destress?

Your shorts are discarded and the exposure doesn’t bother you. Sure your heart would be thudding either way, but Jack made you feel different. No anxiety in the sense that he would judge you or harm you or hurt your feelings.

“Hm, these are cute.” Jack’s thumb fingers over the lining of your underwear.

You feel yourself flush.

“Thanks.” Is your quiet response.

“Relax, baby. This is for you to unwind, not to get nervous. Focus on how you’re feeling,” Jack instructs as his finger ghosted over your clothed cunt. Your teeth nibble on your bottom lip as you push your hips closer to his hand.

He smirks at your eagerness and gives in, entirely pushing his thumb against your clit through your panties.

His thumb moves slowly but firmly back and forth as he gauges your reaction. Finding the right spots where your stomach clenches or your eyebrows knit together.

“More.” You muster as you open your eyes to look down at Jack who was already moving to take your damp panties off. Once again, slowly. He groans as he sees you glistening for him and starts kissing up your thigh.

“You have a pretty face.”

Jack grins up at your compliment while peppering feather light kisses on your inner thighs.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The anticipation pools in your lower stomach as Jack breaks eye contact with you to admire your delicacy in front of him. He uses the same thumb to rub through your folds and reach higher to circle your clit. The stimulation has you moaning softly and the sound has Jack’s cock twitching in his shorts.

“I- hurry.” You huff in slight annoyance, wanting more besides the slow circles. Jack smirks against your thigh and removes his thumb so he could move forward lick a stripe through your folds.

Your knuckles get white gripping the pillow, itching to hold his hair instead as his eyes flicker between yours and your pussy. Jack notices your hand on the pillow and guide it to his hair while sucking and licking your cunt. He parts away for a second to catch his breath before making slow and languid motions with his tongue on your clit.

You grip his hair, hard. Jack grunts against you and loses a shred of control as he pulls your legs apart further to dive further in. You let out a startled breath at the sudden movement and pull on his hair more as he shakes his head deeper while still staring up at you.

“Jack..” you breathe out, but it comes out as more of a whimper that makes him hum against you and a spark run through his body. He pulls away and inserts his middle and ring finger through your slick and pumps shortly before curling his fingers. You heave a breath and moan at the feeling while Jack stares up at you in awe.

“You’re everything.” He says more to himself than you, as he watches you writhe and whimper at his fingers while holding the eye contact. He connects his lips with your clit again and suctions in a way that has your back arching and your moans getting louder and more high pitched with each type of attention Jack gives to your pussy.

He switched his fingers and mouth and rubs your clit as he laps up your arousal as he feels you getting close. He takes that moment to switch back and locks eyes with you as his dark pink, wet lips attach to your clit again, softly sucking you closer to your tipping point.

“Oh, f-fuck I’m-“

Your eyebrows knit and your eyes roll back at the sensations of his mouth and tongue and fingers and gaze.

You spasm around his fingers and moan louder while Jack’s fingers guide you through your release. He licks up whatever he can before sitting and wiping his face with the back of his hand as you stare at him with hooded and tired eyes.

“Feel better?” He has the nerve to ask as he runs a wet wipe up and between your legs.

When did he even get that?

Your leg twitches in sensitivity after he’s finished.

“Mm better.” Was all you could muster. All you wanted was to sleep and dream for days.

Jack laughs softly at your state and checks the time.

“I’ll need to head out soon. Team dinner.” He says as he fits another pair of underwear on you. You feel a pang in your chest and anxiety creeps up your spine, but Jack immediately shuts your thoughts down.

“Hey, this doesn’t mean I’ll abandon you or anything. I’m goin’ cause I have to and I would take you but you look like you could use a nap. We can hang tomorrow?” He’s so soft and caring with you, cupping your cheek and smoothing his thumb over it.

“Yeah okay.” You say and watch as he gets up, not before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I won’t go anywhere, baby.”

After the team dinner, when Jack got home and shut the door to his apartment, the first thing he did was call his older brother. Quinn was just the slightest, itty-bittiest bit more fortunate with girls, so Jack naturally went to him for tips here and there.

A few minutes into the call, they exchanged formalities and talked about each others’ seasons before Quinn cut to the chase.

“So? Is it a girl?”

Jack blanched.

“I- well yes, but it’s different this time. Swear.”

“You say that every-time. But it does sound like it might be different.”

“Do you remember Dee from high school?”

“I don’t remember anything from high school.” Is it really that common to forget four years of your life?

“Yeah well. I met her again a few weeks ago. She was the one who used to take all the APs and she graduated early? She was like always tired and kinda funny. And she’s pretty. Like the natural kind of pretty. You’d look at her and want to give up the world for her kind of pretty. I don’t know.” Quinn listened quietly, detecting the hint of fear in Jack’s voice.

“I might be, like obsessed with her. I think she knows.”

“Wait, wait, wait. She knows? That you like her? And you’re not together yet?” Jack didn’t deny it when he said that he liked her.

“I-yes? I think so. She might be into me too and we did a thing earlier today and she flirts with me without even thinking about it? That’s gotta mean something right?”

“You did things with her?!She flirts with you?! Do something. But take it slow. She probably still wonders why you even give her the time of day. She likes you but she doesn’t know it yet.” Hearing his older brother say it untightened his chest.

“I was going to kiss her but I really wanted to things slow with her. She’s been through a bit and, I don’t know, I want to treat her special.” He’s glad that he has a person he can say the cringiest shit to. If it was anyone else on the other line, he would get toasted for the rest of his life. Jack wore his heart on his sleeve and was smart at reading people and their emotions. But sometimes he was just clueless on what to do with that knowledge.

We can hang tomorrow.

Who the fuck says that after going down on someone.

Jack didn’t text you that night.

Or the next morning.

You started panicking slightly when you come home from classes.

That had to have been the last straw for him.

He’s a fucking superstar, he lives in the New York City area, where all the pretty models and blue eyed blondes live. Why the hell would he go for a tired med student from his home state who didn’t care about herself enough to care for him?

Your mind runs a marathon as the elevator doors open to your floor. But when you approach your apartment, Jack is sitting on the floor next to door, scrolling on his phone.

You freeze and stare blankly as he realizes that you’re here.

He perks up and walks over to you pulling you into a light hug.

“Hey, Dee. How were classes?”

“Good. Thanks for asking.” You reply, hesitantly wrapping your arms back around him. You weren’t hugged a lot as a kid or growing up. You’ve hugged more in the last two weeks than you have in your entire life.

“I have a game later today. Wanna come? The other team…isn’t that good. We might win. Unless you have work to do. Or if you just don’t want to go that’s okay too. Or-“ he cuts off when you press a finger against his lips.

“I’d love to go. I finished a lot of my work during classes.” You smile removing your fingers, relaxing in his arms. “When is it?”

“At 7. I’ll pick you up, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You both just stand there for a minute before you remember social cues.

“So, come in? I’m hungry as fuck. We should eat.” You say pushing the door open, petting Nala as you walk in and Jack followed. He smiles at your awkwardness and accepts.

Your look is acceptable. Hair clutched back, light makeup, hoodie and sweats is your go-to anyway. Plus, you’re always cold.

You arrive at around quarter to seven and with the help of signs make your way to the lounge that Jack gave you a pass to.

There’s a guard at the door that held his hand out for the pass and when you gave it to him he eyed you wearily.

“You’re Hughes’ girl? Where did you get this?”

“Jack gave it to me.”

“Uh huh.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “So can I go in?”

“Sweetheart, Jack has only ever invited two other girls here and I can tell you right now, you’re not the third. Who gave you this pass?”

The mention of Jack bringing other girls here makes you absolutely sick to your stomach.

You might vomit.

But anger bubbles up your throat and you’re about to press your finger into the guards chest and give him a piece of your mind, when there’s a patter of feet and an excited “Dee!” coming from your left.

Jack has you in his arms already before you could register it. He tucks you into his shoulder, presses his lips against your temple, lingering, and faces the guard.

“Was there a problem?” The guards mouth hangs open and flickers between the two of you.

“None at all.” He opens the door and lets the two of you in. After he shuts the door and turns face you, you take a second to admire him.

He’s dressed in his game jersey, shoulder pads and everything; except for his skates.

He looks really good.

“You look really good.”

Silence.

“Are you blushing?”

Jack pulls you into his chest so you don’t see more of the pink adorning his cheeks.

“Am not,” he mutters above your head and you giggle as you try to untangle from his grasp.

You pull back and notice that he still has a tint on his cheeks. He holds your face for a moment, admiring every feature. Going from eye to eye, the slope of your nose, the dimple digging into your left cheek, a beauty mark on your chin, your lips.

You feel your breath quickening when his thumb grazes your cheek and his eyes linger on your lips a little longer.

A sharp knock on the door interrupted the two of you.

“Warm ups in two!”

Jack sighed and looked back at you.

“I need to go. You can watch from here.” He led you further into the room and you could hear the crowd getting louder as you got closer. He led you to a balcony where there were a few other people, and pecked your cheek before going back.

The game starts and you’re more clueless that you thought you’d be. The puck was way too small and you didn’t bring your glasses, but you remember Jack telling you that he was ‘86’, so you tried to follow wherever he was.

The girl next to you strikes up a conversation which you cautiously tread with, but you warm up soon. She tells you that she’s dating someone on the team.

“Woah. That must be cool.” She looks confused.

“Aren’t you Jack’s girl?”

“No? We’re friends. I think. He’s really nice to me.” Your new friend blinks before talking again.

“He really likes you though, and you look like you really like him.”

“Well of course I do. He treats me really well.”

“Oh, babe. No. He like likes you. My boyfriend told me he talks about you all the time.” She holds your hand. You look down at it and back at her. You’re quiet for a moment. You’re not sure how to process that.

“I’m not sure how to process that.”

“Well, do you like him? Love him even?”

“I-“

You’re cut off by that awfully loud goal horn, and glance at the screen to see that Jack has scored. You felt a surge of pride in your chest and feel yourself smiling wide as Jack’s tiny figure skated around and fist bumped the players on the bench. He turns to your section for a moment, lingering for a sliver of a second and your heart stops. The game called for the face-off just a second later so he had to look away.

You look over to the girl on your right and she’s already looking at you with a half smirk.

Jack politely declined on drinks later in the locker room after the devils won.

He leans against his car and thinks about you. He really wanted to see you, needed your affirmation.

It’s all he seems to do now. Jack just wants reassurance and peace in knowing that you were there. He spent every waking moment thinking about you and how he got you to show sides of yourself that you don’t show to people. He tried to keep his personal life away from hockey but the way his instincts told him to look in your general direction after he scored made him sick to his stomach.

He might actually be stupid obsessed with you.

Trusting his gut on your body language and making a bold move the previous night may have been the best thing he’s ever done.

That means that he doesn’t need to be cautious with his flirting anymore. He knows exactly what he feels but he wants to wait til you come to that conclusion on your own.

He didn’t notice your quiet footsteps in his direction and was mildly startled when you were standing in front of him. Almost at once, he felt a smile adorn his face.

“That was so cool, I didn’t understand anything but I know you scored.” Your wide, twinkling eyes stared back up at him. “I’m proud of you.”

And that’s all it took for him to usher you into the back seat, strip off your sweatpants, and throw your legs over his shoulders.

Not even ten minutes later, your lungs are dying for air and your body is covered in a thin sheet of sweat. He was rougher this time, sucking a hickey on your neck before, getting the entire bottom half of his face messy, his own hooded eyes losing focus as he pleasured you.

“You back to me yet, baby?”

“Hm?”

You open your eyes and you’re in the front seat, cleaned up, pants back on, and Jack is fastening your seatbelt for you.

“I lost you for like, three minutes there. You okay?”

His voice is gentle and quiet, his index and thumb holding your chin softly as his azure eyes bore into yours.

“Chipotle?”

He laughs, pulling back and shifting the gear into drive, his hair falling slightly in his face and he pushes it back.

“All the chipotle in the world for my Dee.”

Your mind briefly flashed to how he kissed the tip of your nose before he went down on you, and not your lips.

You’re in Jack’s apartment now (your heart dropping when you thought of Nala, but then you remembered that you fed her quite well and she had to be passed out by now. Jack handed you a Hershey’s kiss to calm you down), and it’s big.

Like, huge.

Massive for someone who lives alone.

His TV was playing ‘How to lose a guy in 10 days’ and you were watching like a hawk.

“I’ve never seen this one before.”

“Really? You don’t watch romcoms?” Jack looks at you surprised, sitting next to you with both of your chipotle orders and throwing a blanket over the two of you.

“No. I don’t really get the time.” You furrow your brows and turn to him with a blank expression. “You’ve showed me so much fun in the last few weeks. Thank you.”

Jack could happily die in that moment. He flashes back to yesterday again, your childlike wonder, the new things he learnt about you.

“‘S nothing yet. There’s so much more you deserve to feel happy about.” He kisses your temple before getting closer to you.

You both watch in silence for a while, occasionally laughing and aw-ing, until you can’t hold it back anymore.

“Do you think kissing is unhygienic?”

You look up to him, his unbuttoned shirt, messy hair and lingering smile making your heart skip a beat.

Oh no.

You have such a horrible, fat crush on him.

“Hm?”

“I-nothing.”

“M’kay.”

Sweet boy is not a multitasker and the movie was at a really good part, so he didn’t really get distracted and soon you were engrossed too.

You were still in a cloud of feelings and it was getting a bit much for you. Your head was usually void of emotion, so the change was welcome. And you had Jack to thank for that. He’s done so much for you, taken care of you in ways that no one has and no one ever will.

You realize that he could be your worst heartbreak or someone that’s going to be in your life forever.

You feel slightly sick thinking about it and you need to get it out of your system.

“Can I suck you off?” Your lips lightly brush his ear.

Now that.

That gets Jack’s attention.

He nearly snaps his neck to turn to face you and your noses touch.

“You- I- what?”

Your fingertips are feathery as you brush the hair out of his face.

“I want to suck your dick.”

“You don’t- if this is to- to reciprocate or something-“

“I promise it’s not. I really just want to.”

Jack is already semi-hard and he can feel his dress pants tighten. His eyes briefly widen and he borderline gulps before he watches your hand run down his chest and toy with his belt buckle. As soon as he gives you the green light and pauses ‘How to lose a guy in 10 days’, you’re on your knees in front of him, just like how he was with you the previous night.

Jack’s sanity is once again lost as he watches you on your knees for him. You make a quick work of his belt buckle and pull down his dress pants just enough.

You can already see how loaded he is through his boxers and look back up at him with the same wide eyes that he goes crazy over.

“Cool.”

Jack barely has time to react over your concise approval of his length before you’re mouthing over his boxers, sucking softly, leaving Jack gasping for a breath.

You pull down his boxers and start working immediately, pumping him and wetting your hands slightly so you have more friction.

“Y’know, it’s crazy—I know what all of these veins are called.” You say, more to yourself but Jack’s half smile drops when you lay your tongue flat against his shaft and suck on his tip. He lets out an embarrassing sound between a staggered breath and a whimper as you make your way down. Your cheeks hollow out as you make eye contact with him, making sure you’re getting it right. You come off and continue with your hands and look up at him.

“Good?”

“F- Christ- fuck, so good, baby. So good.”

Happy with yourself, you continue to suck him clean while he chokes out moans and his stomach clenches. You can feel him getting heavier in your mouth and you start speeding up, using both of your hands.

There’s a moment when he reaches forward to push your hair out of your face, so that you don’t get bothered and so that he sees you properly, which warms your heart.

He taps one of yours hands that’s on him to indicate that he’s close and you pull back with a kitten lick to his tip before sticking your tongue out.

You have Jack seeing stars when his load pumps into your mouth, and your eyes dart over his shirt clinging to his chest, his hair falling into his screwed shut eyes, his lips parted and his hand gripping the sofa with such intensity that his veins pop out.

You tuck him back into his clothing after cleaning him up, and he looks at you with tired eyes while making grabby hands.

You chuckle, climbing into his arms and he slumps his body against you, both of you now lying down on the couch as he unpauses the movie.

His head rests comfortably against your chest, one of your hands running through his hair, and the other intertwined with his.

It’s sweet.

Jack wakes up alone and panics at once. It’s embarrassing, really; like finding out your stuffed animal fell to the floor during your sleep as a toddler. But when he checks his messages, he finds a text from you.

Hey, I had to leave. I have a project due tomorrow and also Nala :( We can meet up later. I had fun yesterday. Thank you :))

It’s hits Jack how gone he is when he finds himself clutching his phone to his heart.

It takes a while.

He comes home fresh from morning practice took a nice long nap to clear his head before waking up properly to see that it was raining outside.

He was enjoying (not) the protein shake that he was required to drink and mindlessly scoring through plays from an old game, when it hits him like a sack of bricks.

Do you think kissing is unhygienic?

You think he doesn’t want to kiss you.

You think he’s toying with your heart by showing you all kinds of affection besides the one thing that both of you wanted so fucking bad.

You think he doesn’t like you enough to do that yet.

The drive to yours was smooth despite the rain pouring down from every direction, and because you always reminded him of road safety.

You were standing outside of the apartment building, looking like you were having an argument with.. your tiger.

Your hands were on your hips, body soaked and hair wet as you tried to coax Nala into shelter.

Jack laughed at both of your antics which got your attention. Your mind flashes back to the day that you met him, the pouring rain, and how awkward it was to meet someone you knew from a while back. You wave at him happily as he approached, but noticed a hint of anxiety and embarrassment.

“What’s wro-?“

“Are you into poetry?”

“Uh, sometimes? Why?”

“This- well, I can’t read it. Here.”

He hands over his phone, stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks at anything but you. Puzzled, you cover his phone from the pelting droplets so you could read.

‘The first time you caught my eye

it was not love at first sight.

Instead a quiet curiosity was

planted in my chest and I knew

it was only a matter of time before

you sunk beneath my bones and

nurtured this deep seated familiarity

into a love so fierce that I would question

if I had ever been in love before.’

Lyra Wren.

You read it again.

There’s no way he actually searched for a poem to depict how he felt.

“Look, I didn’t understand half of it hit you get the-“

Jack was cut off by our lips against his.

It was short, maybe a second long, closed mouth, but you pulled away breathless and were close enough to feel his heart racing underneath his clothes.

How desperately he wanted your cold, soft lips against his again.

“So, you like me? For who I am?”

He nods.

“Are you sure? ‘Cause I-“

You were interrupted by Nala’s whine (to say: I change my mind, I want to go inside), and you give Jack his phone, grab his hand and pull him inside.

“C’mon, we’ll get pneumonia.”

Your hands were still in each others, his engulfing yours, when you shut the door to your apartment, locked it, watched Nala bound to her room, and turned to face him again properly.

He was so, so close. Your lips were parted, just inches apart, your foreheads touching.

He closed the gap this time, almost groaning in relief when he felt your mouth properly against his, something you both yearned for without realizing. His lips move against yours gently, savoring as much of you as he can. He nips your bottom lip and it has you and Jack smiling into the kiss. And then it’s a mess, teeth clashing, giggling, tongues lolling over another, one of his hands cupping your face and the other wrapped around your waist, but it feels like everything you’ve ever wanted.

You pull back.

“I love you more.”

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes smut #jack hughes fic #ellie writes 🙂‍↔️#jack Hughes fluff

685 notes · View notes

illnessfaker · 10 months ago

Text

tw: black+trans death

from the_yvesdropper on instagram:

our beautiful black trans brother, 35 year old Righteous Torrence "Chevy" Hill, was murdered in Atlanta, GA this weekend.

he went by his nickname 'Chevy' he was originally from Macon, GA. he owned Evollusion, which is a black/ queer owned LGBTQ+ salon in Atlanta that provided and dedicated full service to specializing in hair, nails, barbering and makeup. growing up as young black queer boys/kids, the barbershop experience can sometimes be a tricky space to occupy, this was something that Chevy understood and wanted to cultivate a space of safety where you can also get the affirming look and style you want, and he did exactly that.

Chevy was a beloved son, brother, partner, and father.

one of his last posts that had a photo of himself said :

"if you truly know me, you know i am a humble, modest, private man, that i love my community, i have the love of God in me and will give the shirt off my back to any soul in need, also i never post pictures of myself, legaey give myself credit, that stops today, i am my legacy!"

(a close friend of Chevy asked if i could share more then one photo of Chevy, since he never posted photos of himself and in recent years he got the confidence to want to share more photos and now he won't get the chance to)

Chevy, hey king, hey brother, hey angel, thank you for everything, i lové you, we lové you, i'm so sorry. there are a lot of photographers in heaven who will be able to photograph you as the glorious black trans angel that you are.

there will be a homegoing service/memorial for our brother

there aren't many details about what happened but apparently he was shot by a family member last wednesday, the 28th (at least this article was the one linked in relation to his murder.)

judging by both the IG post and the comments section he was well-loved by many people and those people have many good memories with him and nothing but good things to say. this is a comment that was left by tirajmeansgolden which was hidden by IG for some reason:

I started testosterone in February 2020. I hit this man up at the end of 2019 after numerous Google searches for an LGBT-friendly barber near me (and by near me... he was a good 35-40 minutes from the rural area I was in outside of Atlanta: but when I found out he was a trans man and that his business was the first and only LGBT hair bar, I knew it would be worth the trip). I was a dysphoric mess in his DMs one Sunday. I hated how my hair was growing out. I never had a "masculine" hairstyle before but decided one day I would buzz it all off myself, then allowed it to grow out a bit... I sent him a video and despite him being closed on Sunday, he told me to come through. I got my hair braided and he gave me my first really masculine fade. Explained the different terms. Lined me up. Was asking me about my decision to transition and provided some helpful advice + guidance. I told him how I was a therapist and he was hype and said he talked with a group of trans men and he would love for me to stop by and also give some mental health tips. So whoever said he was humble - wow, what an understatement. Such a community man! Made me feel SO comfortable because barbershops were a source of major trauma and triggers for me. They were such an integral part of my early transition (I just celebrated 4 years later week). And he was such an integral part of the Atlanta Queer community with hosting events like Queer Con. How I found so many other great resources + queer businesses/artists. May you rest in peace, Chevy. You'll be missed. You've made such a different in the lives of countless people. You definitely were living your Purpose + left a legacy behind ...

#op #rest in power #black trans lives matter #death -#black death -#trans death -#didn't add a tw to the top of this post at first. sorry everyone.

1K notes · View notes

abookloverlmao · 2 months ago

Text

THE GIRL IN THE SOCKS ON THE ROOF - JJ Maybank (part II)

Summary: You're in the wind, I'm in the water, Nobody's son, nobody's daughter. Y/N was nobody's daughter, hell she was uninterested in returning home after going missing with the Pogues. Wanting to go back to his arms- her will to live.

part 1: it took me a while! sorry y'all but here you have it<3

Warning: female!reader, triggering themes (mental health struggles, including references to self-harm, abusive dad, daddy issues, alcohol, drug, weed, swearing, angst, argument, shitty nicknames, bullying? etc. this will angsty as shit and fluffy, do not read if you don't want to! you have been warned, let me know what you think!

☆☆☆

If anyone dared to touch his Y/N, JJ will fucking murder them.

When Y/N and Kiara were unexpectedly kidnapped, an overwhelming fury consumed JJ. The thought of Y/N in danger fueled his hatred, and his temper flared as he grappled with the worry that gripped his heart.

Y/N had been by JJ's side through thick and thin, she not only inspired him in creating Poguelandia's flag but also joined him on hunting trips, despite her aversion to the idea of taking lives.

"This is the ultimate dream, baby. Who needs rescuing from paradise?" JJ scoffed as he secured the rope, glancing at Y/N, who gazed at him with an adoring smile.

"No passports, just living the dream, surf trip, right?" she said, her eyes in the shape of hearts, tanned JJ was something, golden curls, his eyes more blue. The sight of her looking at him that way caused JJ's heart to race, so he averted his gaze, trying to regain composure.

"Ready?" he finally asked, his voice slightly husky, causing Y/N to clear her throat and stand, extending her hand towards him, "yes sir," she replied pulling him up before making her way towards the ocean, spear in hand.

"All right remember, watch your shadow, they see that, they're gone," he warned her as soon as their feet were on the water earning a nod from her and a gulp.

"Just like we practiced, Y/N," she nodded and held the spear with both hands, eyes studying the water for any fish, JJ tried not to stare, her tanned skin, her flushed cheeks thanks to the sun, how her exposed back muscles moved, her shorts soaked and she wore only sports bras, her shirt long forgotten.

"There's a skate, I can't- I really can't-" she cringed at the thought of stabbing the spear through the poor animal so he took action, "dang it! I missed it," he spun around hurriedly in search of the fish but the girl moved without a thought.

stabbing the spear while looking away, she caught it surprisingly, "you did it!" he exclaimed pulling her into a hug between laughs, "that's food in our bellies right there!"

and when Kiara dared him to jump off a mountain onto the sea, she was worried, "JJ don't, what if you drown like last time?" Y/N asked grabbing his wrist, still afraid about the last time when he got hit by the blunt of a machete and fell off the boat.

JJ paused, his excitement fading a little as he saw the genuine fear in her eyes, he understood her concern, the lingering trauma that had affected them both.

Gently, he reached out and clasped her hand, offering a reassuring smile.

"Y/N, I know it's scary to think about what happened, but I've taken precautions this time. I've learned from my mistakes, it's just a dare," he assured her, his voice filled with determination, "I won't let anything happen to me. Trust me."

Y/N's grip on his wrist tightened, her worry mingling with a flicker of trust, she knew that JJ will never do such a thing to scare her, but she also knew that this boy was stubborn as fuck.

With a mix of apprehension and faith, she nodded reluctantly.

☆☆☆

Apparently, there was a history between Rafe Cameron and Y/N L/N, both were said to be caught in the corner of a party once, Rafe Cameron towering over her and her leaning back against the wall.

Saving Portis's life was a horrible idea, really, it was, Kiara got the idea and Y/N hated the thought of leaving her behind even if the girl sometimes can be a little mean.

JJ watched as Y/N raced between people on the bridge and slid down to hide under a boat with Kiara, their boots came in handy as the girls kicked the man in the face crawling out of their hiding spot.

A man got her arms and held them secure while another grabbed Kiara, she looked around in desperate search of JJ, the familiar blonde hair not once seen, nothing.

She sat on the back of the car in terror looking around for any of the Pogues, eyes focused on the ocean, under the bridge, nothing, she slumped back down and kept herself from attacking Portis in a fit of fury.

"We saved your life! That's what we get?" she snapped, her tone laced with righteous anger and disbelief, her entire body trembled with a mix of adrenaline and frustration, and her eyes locked onto Portis, daring him to respond.

"I'll try to help you, just do as they tell you," Portis said looking at her eyes, wildfire clear in them, "I will make you pay for this," she dropped back to sit beside a soaked Kiara, her grip on the girl tightened, her arm wrapping protectively around the trembling girl.

She pulled Kiara closer, seeking solace in their shared strength. Their eyes remained fixed on the guards before them, sharp and piercing like daggers.

Pogue girls.

they were locked in a random mansion with guards surrounding them left and right, the windows locked, everything secure and made sure they don't escape, the closet was open revealing red silk dresses and a note "PICK YOUR SIZE" not even some pants or shirt, just fucking dresses.

The warm shower after a month of staying on an island felt amazing though, both the girls stayed each in there for a damn hour, Y/N overthinking of a way out and Kiara doing the same, sighing as the water ran down her back.

The dress was perfect however, and the girls looked like absolute angels, the red that reminded them of rich wine only kooks drank with their tanned skin absolutely perfect.

And seeing Rafe Cameron didn't make her feel any better, "you! I knew you and your father were behind this shit," she spoke storming towards the boy that is rumored to be talking to her- well was.

Rafe glared at her and took a step forward towards her, "What are you talking about? You trying to weasel in on my deal is that what's going on?" he asked pointing at himself, she scrunched her nose at him, hair still damp, "what? Are you hearing yourself? I think you became even more loco with the buzz cut-"

someone cut her off, a man with an accent, presenting himself as Carlos Singh, he apologized to the girls about the rough tactics in bringing them here and it made her raise an eyebrow, Kiara was studying the man up and down suspiciously.

She eyed Rafe and moved with Kiara behind Carlos taking a seat on the couch far from him, so this man talked about El Dorado for about an hour and she found herself getting annoyed every second especially when he pointed out that the three of them would find this island or whatever.

"I didn't listen to a word you just said, how much are you gonna keep philosophizing?" Y/N found herself agreeing with Rafe on something for once.

"you girls have a manuscript, a diary," she froze once Carlos's eyes landed on the girls, and she could feel the curly-haired girl by her side tense, "this is ridiculous, we don't have any diary," she spoke feeling Rafe's eyes on her.

"how else could you have learned that the cross was on the Royal Merchant?" he asked and Kiara replied, indicating that they couldn't help him even if they wanted to, which was a terrible idea.

"We have been glued on an island for a month, how do you think we will help you?" Y/N added watching as Rafe got up and was about to walk expecting that this was all a game, but a guard holding a rifle stood in front of him.

Y/N's heart raced as she watched the guard step in front of Rafe, blocking his path. The realization sank in that escaping this mansion and the clutches of Carlos Singh's operation would not be as simple as they had hoped.

She, Kiara, and Rafe were locked in a room, one day to find this diary and witnessed Portis get shot in front of them, who wouldn't be fucking terrified? Rafe grabbed her arm and turned her to face him holding her shoulder firmly, "don't bullshit me, this diary, do you have it?" he asked.

Y/N pushed him away with a look, fear could be seen in them, "does it look like I have it, Rafe, no." she snapped, her voice filled with defiance.

She took a step back, her eyes scanning the room for any possible escape route.

☆☆☆

Rafe had slept the night on the ground while she and Kiara were on the bed, well Y/N had stayed the night awake thinking just in case, she and the Cameron boy got into arguments, he tried to talk to her but she kept pushing him away from her, saying that she doesn't own him shit.

Walking down the stairs with the guard's hand gripping her arm, she stood in front of Carlos in her pajamas, "I lied. I know about the diary, I don't have the original but I can get you a copy, but... if I do this I need to go alone, with Kiara and I swear to you, I'll give you the diary and then you let us go," of course, everything will end like shit with this man.

Apparently, Portis sent a message from beyond the grave that he had captured JB and Sarah and then she was dragged up the stairs by the guard and thrown into the room.

"Get up- Carlos is heading to John B and Sarah- why is he crying?" she asked looking at Rafe with a frown, amusement twinkling in her eyes, "Peterkin, daddy issues," replied Kiara standing up and looking at her with wide eyes at the piece of information.

"oh my god.." she shook her head at the boy.

"He has a boat that could get us out of here," Kiara added staring out the window and gesturing to Rafe who tried to walk towards Y/N but stopped at her glare.

"Fine. This is our only chance of getting out, but that doesn't mean I trust you," she added still in the silk pajamas, hers were black instead of grey, Rafe nodded, "Fine. I get it," It did pain him that she doesn't trust him though.

but, the trio worked amazingly in being actors that's for sure, Y/N deserved an Oscar for screaming so loud and pretending to see Kiara dead, she "fought" with Rafe who threatened to "kill" her, and by that, she means yelling and throwing furniture around to pretend they were fighting, Rafe helped her lay on the bathtub and pretend to be dead.

Hand holding hers she slid into the bathtub, a leg and a hand out, not a move of her muscles.

As the guard entered the room, his eyes widened in shock at the sight before him. Kiara lay motionless, her vacant stare adding to the illusion of death. Y/N's boots peeking out from behind the bathtub and her arm hanging limply added to the grim scene.

Before the guard could fully process what he was witnessing, Rafe sprang into action, with a swift and forceful movement, he struck the guard with the door, causing him to stumble backward. Rafe continued landing powerful punches that disoriented the guard, rendering him unable to react effectively.

Seizing the opportunity, Kiara swiftly moved to secure the guard. She expertly used the curtains, swiftly and efficiently binding his hands to prevent any resistance.

Y/N, her heart pounding with adrenaline, went for the gun, her voice was firm as she issued her orders, "Stay still! Don't make a move," Y/N commanded and he froze under Rafe.

With the guard now subdued and under their control, the trio had a fleeting moment of relief. They exchanged glances, acknowledging the success of their coordinated efforts.

and with that, they raced down the stairs following Rafe, Kiara took the picture of El Dorado and the girls followed their friend's brother, racing down the garden and climbing a passing truck.

her grip tightened around the gun, she is holding a gun at the age of 17 for fuck's sake, she almost gave it to Rafe if it wasn't for him to throw the guy off the truck, she was shocked and the first thing that came to mind was what if he did it to her and Kiara.

Rafe kept an eye on her for the entire time, they don't talk anymore and she has every right to hate him, but he kept an eye out, and he's beginning to regret every bad thing he did to her.

he was going to do anything if anyone tried to hurt her, they may never be friends again but he will try at least.

she pushed the green cover off her and sat against the truck as soon as the patrol was over, inhaling and exhaling she looked around, "I told you we just had to work together." not once did she glance at him nor Kiara did.

"All right. Listen, I'm headed out to my boat, okay? I can give you a ride out, drop both of you wherever somewhere safe. One thing though." Kiara looked at him with a frown while Y/N stared out in worry.

"Y/N look at me." with a clenched jaw she turned towards him, "I know your friends are on the island and my sister. I'm not helping them. All right? I can't trust them, okay? I'll give you a ride out, not them."

she stayed silent for a while before nodding, "I just want to get off the island," Rafe turned towards Kie who nodded as well still trying to catch her breath, "Same here."

"That's smart," he said and Y/N rolled her eyes, he really thought I was gonna leave my friends behind. JJ? her mind went back to the handsome blonde, is he alright? did he get caught by Singh?

running a hand through her hair in frustration, pushing it away from her face she leaned back, inhaling and exhaling to keep her anxiety down before she has a mental breakdown.

She could hear Rafe talk to Kie about how he always liked her and that she's at least half Kook, Y/N scoffed, "Half Kook, is it a nationality or something?"

Rafe fought the urge to roll his eyes, "do you have to be sarcastic every time?" he asked making her turn towards him in annoyance, "Do you have to be such a jerk every time?" Y/N retorted, her voice filled with frustration.

Rafe looked taken aback for a moment before his expression hardened. "I'm not the one who brought a gun to a patrol, Y/N," he said, his voice cold.

Y/N bristled at the accusation, "I only brought the gun because I didn't trust you to keep us safe, as if you didn't hold a gun many times and aimed it at me," she said, her voice rising.

Rafe shook his head, looking exasperated. "You don't trust anyone, Y/N. That's the problem," he said, his voice tinged with annoyance, she didn't say another word, way too tired to argue.

"After what you have done to me, I will never trust you," Kiara watched them back and forth, "I did you a solid," he replied staring ahead, "You told everyone that we fucked, told everyone about my relationship with my father, and... you tried to kill Kie and aimed a gun at me." said Y/N.

Rafe tried to say something, but couldn't, so he closed his mouth.

Soon she hopped off the truck and landed beside Kiara with a thud, "Come on. My boat's down here." both the girls followed him towards a white big boat.

"Make sure your shoes are off. both of you." he ordered and the girls stood still, "Okay, we should have enough juice to get us to Saint Lucia, no problem."

he noticed them still standing there, "Hey, get in the boat, Y/N! Kie!" he exclaimed watching them intensely, Kie spoke, "You're not gonna pull anything if we get in?" she asked the boy who sighed in vexation.

"No, I'm not gonna pull anything, okay? I'm trying to do you a solid here. You really wanna be back there with Singh, or do you wanna be somewhere safe? Now can one of you help me with the bowline?"

they finally did as told, Y/N kept her socks on as she climbed the boat, "Go help him with the bowline, I'll check around," Kiara nodded and the girl immediately moved around.

the sound of grunting caught her attention and Y/N raced outside, Kiara jumped on the boat and Y/N ran towards the railing seeing Rafe in the water, "oh shit!" she exclaimed looking at Kiara with wide eyes.

The girl started the boat and immediately took control, Rafe yelled and called out for the girls, and for the first time in a while, she felt a pang in her heart.

she felt bad but she had nothing to do, she had to save the Pogues.

"Kie! Where are you going?!" he exclaimed making her wince and look at him with a scrunched nose, "I've gotta help my friends!" yelled Kiara and the boat started moving.

"You don't know what you're doing! Hey!" he panted and threw his arms around, "Shit! I'll find you, Kie! I'll find you! you're both gonna regret this shit. Y/N! You're done!"

she gulped, "I'm sorry!" she yelled back turning around and making her way up to stand beside Kiara, "don't you think that's a little too far?" she asked the brown-haired girl who looked back at the boy, "maybe. please send them our location."

The girl nodded taking the phone and looking back at poor struggling Rafe, it's a bit too far, isn't it? She thought.

Y/N couldn't help but feel guilty as she watched Rafe struggling in the water. She knew that leaving him behind was harsh, but she also knew that she had to help her friends.

As Kiara drove the boat towards their destination, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of unease, she didn't know what was going to happen next, but she knew that they were in for a rough ride, what if Carlos found them again and this time he kills her.

"Are you okay?" Kiara asked, breaking the silence.

Y/N nodded, her mind still racing, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... worried about what's going to happen next," she said, her voice filled with uncertainty.

"Do you have that gun?" asked Kiara again, Y/N nodded and pulled out the gun from behind her, "we are definitely going to jail," sighed the girl, "hey, it's just for protection."

"Yeah..."

With that they fell silent, the boat racing towards their destination, gun at the ready, waiting for the teenagers to appear, Kiara wrapped her arm around Y/N's shoulders and the girl stared ahead.

"I'm sorry...if I suspected you, I shouldn't have been harsh on you," started Kiara glancing at Y/N who threw herself on the chair in tiredness, her heart still hammering against her chest.

"Its fine, I get it Kie," she smiled at her and tapped the location on the screen, before putting her phone by her side and closing her eyes, "I would've done the same." Kiara smiled brightly and laughed.

"We will end up in jail one day, girl," she spoke making her laugh, "definitely, I regret leaving that dress back though, it was so pretty," Kiara nodded in agreement, "so sexy,"

***

Y/N leaned against the fence, thinking about everything, her finger tapped anxiously against the railing as she waited until the sight of a blue shirt and familiar blonde hair caught her eyes.

She frowned, who is he? why was he looking around? As soon as the boy turned around and his eyes caught Y/N, she froze, like time stopped and nothing mattered only their eyes meeting one another's.

The hues of E/C mixing in with the blue and the hint of turquoise, sharp features, pink cheeks thanks to the sun.

"JJ?" she called jumping off and racing down the small stairs trying not to slip, the boy was completely frozen, "JJ." she ran and the boy finally walked, every muscle in his body easing.

She threw herself on him, his strong arms wrapped around her so tightly as he pulled her to his body even closer, she ran her hand through his hair, tears blurring her vision.

"Y/N," JJ breathed out in the crook of her neck, lips brushing against her delicate skin, his voice filled with relief, she pulled back slightly, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes, hand reaching to cup his cheek lovingly.

"Wow! I didn't think I'd see you ever again." she said her voice trembling but there was that beautiful smile on her lips, JJ tilted his head with a smile and studied her with his grip not once leaving her, "Yeah, but I'm here now. Okay? It's all right. It's all right." he said pulling her again towards him.

Her arms wrapped around him so tightly, JJ never wanted to pull away, her lips ghosting on his neck was inexpressible, JJ felt his heart racing as Y/N's lips brushed against his neck, sending shivers down his spine.

He had missed her so much, and he couldn't believe that she was finally here with him, worry ate him alive the past day when she wasn't by his side, and now he was cherishing the moment they were finally reunited.

They stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, finding solace in the embrace.

"I can't believe you're here," Y/N murmured, her voice filled with a mix of joy and disbelief, "I thought... I thought I had lost you." JJ's grip tightened around her, and his voice was soft as an angel, "I'm here, Y/N. I'm not going anywhere," he reassured her, and he was right, he was never going to leave her ever again, he wasn't going to let someone take her from him.

"We'll get through this together."

JJ's smile widened, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear from Y/N's cheek, he didn't care about anything but holding her to him, god he loved her.

and then after a hot minute of staring into one another's eyes, he finally pulled away as the others rushed over, JJ finally pulled away and as soon as her hand left his cheek he felt that coldness come back and then he hugged Kiara.

Sarah was on the verge of tears when she came to Y/N, she pulled her into a bear-crushing hug one that made the girl gasp for breath but she didn't complain.

"I was scared you and Kie got hurt," she said with a smile on her lips, Y/N smiled at her friend and kissed her forehead before hugging John B, Pope, and Cleo.

"I'm a Pogue, girly, me and Kie never get hurt," and of course, John B decided to be stupid, apparently the church bell ringing was the same one his dad used to ring to call him home.

Because as soon as he left, Carlos's men appeared and started shooting and if it wasn't Kiara starting the boat one would've gotten shot certainly, JJ was yet again exploding with anger as they left the island and if it wasn't JB calling, and telling them to go back to Outer Banks the boy would've drove himself mad that's for sure.

Kiara went down with the others to rest after a whole day of chaos, there was surprisingly a shower in the boat, that was how rich Rafe is, while JJ went to take a shower after Pope and Cleo were done, Sarah was sitting by Y/N's side overthinking.

"you're overthinking again," started Y/N keeping her eyes glued in front of her, Sarah snapped out of it and smiled at her friend, "Yeah, I guess I can't help it sometimes," Sarah admitted with a sheepish smile, leaning back against the wall of the boat. "There's just so much going on, and I can't help but worry, i'm worried about John B."

Y/N turned to face Sarah, her expression filled with empathy. "I understand," she said softly, reaching out to place a comforting hand on Sarah's arm, "It's natural to feel overwhelmed in situations like this. We're in this together babe, and your boyfriend found gold once, nothing bad will happen to that guy." she chuckled softly.

"I mean, look at the adventures we've been through with him. We always manage to find a way, even when the odds seem impossible. And with John B leading the charge, it's bound to be one hell of a journey." it was true, this was all because of John B.

Sarah smiled at the girl's words and wrapped her arms around her shoulder pulling her into a hug, "thank you for everything," she whispered kissing her friend's forehead, "Anything for you." and with their arms linked, silence fell.

"so what's going between you and JJ, you think I haven't noticed the heart eyes," started Sarah nudging her friend who stared ahead as if she didn't hear her, "You know how JJ is. He's just being JJ," she replied cheeks burning red.

Sarah raised an eyebrow skeptically, not buying Y/N's attempt at brushing off the topic, "Uh-huh, just JJ being JJ, huh?" she said, her tone filled with playful sarcasm, "I've seen the way you two look at each other. There's definitely something more going on."

Y/N couldn't help but smile, her gaze softening as she glanced at Sarah, "Okay, fine," she admitted, shaking her head softly and keeping her hand on the steering wheel, "Maybe there's something between us. It's hard not to feel a connection with someone when you've been through so much together."

Sarah's smile widened, her eyes twinkling with mischief, "I knew it!" she exclaimed, squealing so loudly that she had to put her hand over the girl's mouth, "hush you!" Sarah moved her head away and beamed.

"You guys are adorable together. I ship it!"

and then JJ appeared, ruffling his blonde hair with a towel and he frowned at the girls, "Ship who?" Y/N pinched Sarah's side just as the girl opened her mouth to answer, urging her to keep her mouth shut.

Sarah winced at the pinch but quickly caught on, suppressing her laughter and keeping her lips sealed.

JJ furrowed his brow at the exchange, his curiosity piqued as he approached the two girls, "What's going on?" he asked, his voice tinged with suspicion, "You guys seem like you're up to something."

Y/N flashed JJ a sweet smile, trying to maintain her composure. "Oh, nothing," she replied casually, her voice innocent. "Just girl talk, you know?"

Sarah nodded vigorously, feigning seriousness. "Yeah, just some girl talk," she chimed in, her eyes dancing with mischief.

JJ's frown deepened, clearly not convinced by their response but didn't insist, "I'll leave you guys together~" with that Sarah disappeared down the stairs while wiggling her eyebrows behind JJ.

JJ watched Sarah disappear down the stairs, a bemused expression on his face as he caught a glimpse of her mischievous eyebrow wiggle. He shook his head with a chuckle, turning his attention back to Y/N.

"Well, that was interesting," JJ remarked, a playful glint in his eyes. "I wonder what she's up to."

Y/N shrugged, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Who knows with Sarah," she replied, her voice filled with amusement, "She's always full of surprises." He nodded and took a seat.

She stared at the sea and glanced at JJ, “you certainly know the way to Outer Banks right…?” she said awkwardly pushing herself slightly to the side, the boy shook his head and stood up looking for a map.

He examined it and then around, “yes ma’am, just head right straight up to the sun, we’ll reach at almost night fall,” she shook her head at his orders and did as told, saluting him with a grin on her lips.

They stayed silent, it was never quiet between them so this wasn’t usual, he stood by her side, always taller and shielding her from the world, even if she wasn’t that short, he was a giraffe, growing every day probably.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” he finally spoke, making her turn to him in confusion, she furrowed her eyebrows and tilted her head to the side, she always did that when she was confused, sometimes scrunched her nose as well.

“Rafe.” He uttered his name like it was poison, if eyes could kill; poor Rafe would be dead all the way from Barbados.

She chuckled softly and lifted her silk top revealing the gun, “now if he did I wouldn’t have this now, would I?” she said sarcastically, and JJ swore he fell in love right there and then, his girl had a mother fucking gun.

Innocent and sweet Y/N from about 8 months ago was no longer there, this was Y/N mother fucking Maybank, god his last name fit perfectly with her.

“Atta girl, now that’s what I am talking about,” he added putting his back against hers and pointing his gun playfully, back when he was young, he and John B used to do it with those army plastic toys from Walmart (or make some using paper) and now he is doing it with his lover with real guns.

“That’s some John Wick shit, right there!” he exclaimed, Y/N took her own gun and pointed it around, partners in crime, she felt like Black Widow for fuck’s sake, this was dangerous, but danger can be fun.

They both laughed but she suddenly spoke, “hey it’s better we throw it away in the ocean, cops will investigate here and then us once we’re there,” she said throwing the gun in the sea, it had a single bullet anyways.

JJ kept his and looked at it longingly, “is there no damn camera?” he asked looking around and then she looked around, “look at the drawers,” she suggested turning back to the wheel, JJ looked around and after a good 10 minutes, a polaroid camera caught his eye, it had the initials “W.C”

Wheezie Cameron.

They both gave one another bright wicked smiles and she grabbed the camera, “pose mister Wick,” she said pulling the camera closer and closing one eye, snapping a picture of JJ grinning like an idiot while holding the gun with both hands showing his dimples, she laughed and took another one, one where he was more serious.

“It’s perfect,” she said with a smile holding the polaroid in hand, JJ scrunched his nose and shook his head trying to grab them, “absolutely not. Usually I would say no shit Sherlock but-“ She elbowed him cutting him off.

“They’re not yours at all, they’re mine” she said with a matter of fact tone putting the picture in her pocket, JJ hated how his cheekbones turned red and the way he stared at her, oh so lovingly, his heart suddenly started hammering against his chest in a speed of light, like it always did when he was with her.

They say that back then, a star used to lead a captain’s way on the ship, or whatever, JJ sucked at history, got an F in his last exam, hell he was surprised he didn't get a -F, if that even existed, only good date he managed to have right was when was the Fourth of July.

Ironic. heh, forth of july, the day he held her on a random rooftop.

And if it was true, then she was his star, his star girl, pretty E/C eyes, H/C hair, tanned skin, rosy cheeks due to the rays of sun and their stay in the island, and the salty water made her skin glow.

Fucking hell he wanted to kiss her, so so badly.

JJ looked away and grabbed the camera, snapping a picture of her staring ahead, and she noticed of course, raising an eyebrow at him so his first instinct was to beam innocently at her and sneakily take the picture that came out, “at least take a good picture,” she said in amusement.

He was surprised, for a second he thought she was going to yell at him until her words caught him off guard, “deal,” he said gesturing her to turn around, putting on the fake act of a professional photographer, classic JJ.

She leaned against the wheel and fixed her clothes, hair and then looked at him reassuringly, tilting her head to the side and JJ swore he was about to fucking faint, and he wasn't being dramatic. the sun kissing her skin and making her look like an angel descending from heaven, that for a second he sat there, admiring.

And after snapping out of thoughts, he took a picture, and as she waited for it to appear, he stared, lips pursed tightly and he swallowed, and once it did and she towered over his kneeling form, her hair fell around her like curtains that she pushed it away with a frustrated groan.

His eyes fell on her lips, a single move is all he needed, if he lifted himself just a little bit, he can capture her lips then-

“it’s cute, I guess, I look a damn duck but whatever,” she said pushing herself away with a chuckle, JJ didn’t know what to say, she was perfect, in every way, in so many ways that he couldn’t describe it all, his stare could, it did and that was why the tips of her ear burned red.

"you're not a duck,"

And as he rose to his feet, the boat suddenly moved and he went to her, his hand automatically went to hold her waist and pull her to him just as she was about to fall back, his other hand went to grip the wheel and his body pressed against hers in a matter of seconds.

Her hand gripping his shoulder in fear to fall and humiliate herself in front of her crush, the other on his chest, right on top of his hammering heart that she could feel it thunder against her palm, his hand though, right on her waist, his fingertips right on the spot where her skin was a little revealed making every hair in her body rise.

Her blood ran hot and they both stared at each other, absolutely love-struck, eyes in the shape of hearts and heart beating in sync, getting louder and louder in their ears, her chest went up and down as the air suddenly left.

And she swore she noticed him lean in, tilting his head slightly to the side and she moved as well, eyes dropping to his lips and then went up to his eyes- is it happening? Is it finally happening?

His nose bumped hers, the faintest brush of his lower lip on her upper one and she took a leap of faith to press her lips against his, hey, god was with her and giving her a sign might as well take it.

JJ didn't even hesitate to put a hand on her nape and pull her closer spinning so she leaned against the wheel, her eyes fluttered shut and wrapped an arm around his neck pulling him down so she could land back on the balls of her feet as her heart skipped yet another beat, her pulse drumming with each passing second.

The world around them seemed to vanish, the only sound left was the gentle splash of the water against the boat, the waves mirroring the rhythm of their kiss—soft, tentative at first, then JJ parted her lips with his own, deepening the kiss as if they were drawn into each other by some magnetic force.

JJ's fingers adorned by rings right on her nape and moving to hold her as he stepped closer to tower over her causing her to use her arm and pull him closer, parting her lips.

"oh shit-" someone breathed out causing her to freeze, JJ pulled away and looked back, there stood Pope, he gave them finger guns and left in a hurry.

"Uhm, well that was," started Y/N lips rosy thanks to him, "great," she shook her head turning to the wheel and tried not to smile like an idiot, "you should go see him."

"yeah I should- this shithead-" he said in frustration before turning to Y/N, "I'm not done with you, Stargirl."

"yeah I'm sure, fuck off, Starboy," she flipped him off. Yeah she'll be damned if she regrets it just because Pope stepped in, not he will never make out with Cleo? she will bet a hundred dollars once in outer banks, he damn will.

****

Author note: guess what bitches? I got my computer back, feeding you hoes with JJ, my beloved husband, oh and I still haven't watched season 4 so I beg don't spoil. I hope you enjoyed it my lovely babies<333333 Thank you so much for the likes on every single thing I wrote, I appreciate it so much, miss you all and let me know what you think.

There will be a Part 3, just currently focusing more on my book so, but I'll make sure you guys got it!

special hashtag to these pookies (who likely hate my ass for not posting in so long, sorry homies don't burn my house<3): @loves0phelia , @nirvanalivesdilfs , @thekidscallmebosss , @@ladyinbl00d , @talyaaas-blog

ly.

393 notes · View notes

chocosvt · 5 months ago

Text

HER | part one.

✧✎ synopsis: wonwoo, a heartbroken and burnt out writer nearing the end of his math degree, wants nothing to do with the seemingly perfect, intimidating girl who has everyone under her thumb. you. unfortunately, his literary talent has got him shoved him between a rock and a hard place when you want to write a book and require his expertise. you two are the furthest from compatible. wonwoo can’t see this going well. at all.

pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader word count: 23.5k genres/tropes: writer!wonwoo, university!au, plug!vernon + boyfriend!mingyu as prominent side characters, SLOWBURN (i am not fucking around this is my slowest burn yet), relationship drama, soul searching, strong angst/hurt (i’m coming for the jugular), comfort, romance, smut, a smoothie of every emotion on earth.

(!) warnings: drug use (weed, coke, ecstasy), wonwoo has anxiety + anxiety attacks + fairly dark thoughts, prescribed medication, gambling, intense language, infidelity, throwing up.

✧✎ a/n: just some quick things i want to make apparent!

the fic is told from wonwoo’s pov, not the reader’s!

all major timeline events are organized through chronological dates

potentially triggering scenes within the fic are NOT MARKED in advance

the content is already quite mature, so pls heed the warnings!

bolded and italicized text implies characters are conversing in korean, tho it doesn’t happen often!

the fic in its entirety is 140k, so it has been split into 6 parts

everyone's patience and understanding has been endlessly appreciated! you have no idea ;_; i give you all shining stars 🌟

⇢ part two | part three | part four | part five | part six ⇢ soundtrack for those curious! ⇢ read at ur own pace! :)

—MARCH 19TH.

“I have a relatively big favour to ask of you.”

No. Wonwoo didn’t want anything to do with favours.

The fact that Seokmin had actively picked out his presence in the coffee shop like he was some shiny contortion of plastic had actually offended Wonwoo. He came here for two things: to not be bothered, which his friend knew, and to work on the book he was halfway through typing and had been halfway through typing for the past six months. Call it writer’s block, or an inspiration drought, or an absolutely depressing lack of drive—it had been hanging over the writer with an annoying persistence and it seemed that no number of lemony scones or cold coffees were going to make it vanish.

“Uh, Wonwoo?”

“Sorry… what?” He forced his gaze to shift from the blank page on his laptop to Seokmin’s apologetic, softly expressional face, slightly flushed from his time outdoors in the chilled March weather.

“I was just wondering if you’d be up for a favour—a pretty big one—and I know this is your special creativity spot, but she’s been like, breathing down my neck about it and I can’t put it off again.”

“Whose been breathing down your neck?”

At first, Seokmin didn’t say a word, or even make a sound. His lips twitched for a moment, but then he pressed them together and his chest visibly sucked in with a breath. God, Wonwoo hated the suspense and he hated Seokmin for interrupting him when he had been so stupidly close to putting a sentence down that he probably would have back-spaced in frustration a minute later.

“Y’know…” he trailed off, “Her.”

Her.

No, not her, you.

But most people—if not everyone—referred to you by an alias that had seemed to stick so well the majority believed it actually was your name. When people said her they meant Her, and so in a confusing mess of finger-pointing they really meant you. Come to think of it, Wonwoo had no idea where the nickname even came from or who gave it to you or what it even meant.

And he was perfectly fine with never knowing.

“What?” Wonwoo deadpanned. “What on earth could she want to do with me? She doesn’t even know me.” He slid down in his chair, fingers pulling at his circle-lensed glasses so they tilted uncomfortably across his nose bridge. “Or, is this a joke?”

“Oh—no! Absolutely not!” His friend was insistent on proclaiming, vigorously shaking his head. “I’m being serious.”

“Why don’t I believe you then?”

“Okay, well, if you let me explain everything, it’ll all make sense. I said I know someone who writes really well—”

“Meaning me?”

“Yes, meaning you. And the only reason that was even brought up is because she wants to write a book.”

Wonwoo couldn’t help it. He laughed a very short disbelieving laugh that flashed a transient smile to his face as he readjusted his crooked glasses. You were the last person he would ever envision wanting to write a book. He then navigated the trackpad on his laptop, deciding to close the document simply titled, 01, that harboured the fleet of pages to his own current work in progress.

“Yeah,” Wonwoo disregarded, “sounds like bullshit.”

“I’m telling you the truth!” Seokmin exclaimed, gripping onto the metal back of the café chair like he was squeezing someone’s taunt shoulders. “She won’t tell me about what, okay? Just that she’s been thinking the idea for a while now. It’s not like I didn’t try to get details. But she refused—said the only person who can know is whoever’s going to help her. Look, y’have to understand, she was pestering me about it nonstop. And you’re my only writer friend!”

“Well, you’re about to have none.” He answered, reaching for his coffee cup but stopping it just short of his lips. “How serious is she about this, anyway?” Wonwoo sighed. “Do you know how much fucking time you need to dedicate to writing a book?”

He stomached a slow, somewhat grimacing sip as he tasted the coffee’s coldness, meanwhile Seokmin swallowed heavily, and at last pulled out the chair he’d been white-knuckling to take a seat.

“Yes, I’m aware it takes time. I know that. And she is serious or else I wouldn’t be here, bothering you. She takes everything seriously.” The boy began unbuttoning his sleek black jacket. “Really, who knows what’ll happen? Maybe you’ll meet her once and she’ll decide she can’t stand you, and then you’re off the hook for life.”

“Yeah, well have you ever considered what might happen if I can’t stand her? Are my feelings even being considered? Minutely?”

“Minutely, they are being considered.”

“Liar.”

It wasn’t that Wonwoo disliked you.

In actuality, you scared him more than anything. But to be associated with you was to be drawn into your life and caught like a firefly in a glass jelly jar. The proof was right in front of him—to Wonwoo’s eyes, Seokmin was basically your little mailman that scrambled around in hectic nature to do your bidding, because most tasks apparently weren’t worth the time or effort.

“I can’t believe you’re trying to rope me into this. You know I can hardly write my own shit, right?” Wonwoo said bitterly, wishing it was the opposite, “my mind is a desolate, blank canvas of fuck-all and if she thinks I’m writing it then she needs a reality check.”

“No, no—of course you won’t write it!” Seokmin reassured him with his big, opalescent smile. “Really, you’re just giving tips, maybe guiding her process, helping with the planning… you know, this could be facilitated so much easier if you spoke to Her yourself!”

“So, my nightmare?” Wonwoo huffed, shaking his leg.

In an instant, Seokmin had whipped out his phone, tapping around the screen quickly using his thin pointer finger.

“I’m just going to pull up her schedule. It’s always pretty packed, but more into the summer break, it thins out a little. “

Wonwoo exhaled, staring off into the warm, afternoon sunlight that hailed in through the windows, striking all the shimmering flecks and pieces of dust afloat in the café air. When he breathed in again, he could smell the luxurious coffees brewing in their rich and distinctive notes. It was such a beautiful day—still chilly as the snow outdoors began to thaw—but pleasant nonetheless.

“This is such a fucking waste.”

And Wonwoo spent it being miserable.

“No, it’ll be useful. Trust.” Seokmin chirped.

“You’re trying to dip me in your optimism gloss again.”

His friend smiled affectionately, tilting his head.

“This will be good. You’ve been a hermit since I’ve known you.”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo scoffed, “so you think it’s a good idea to shove me with the person I relate to least on the entire planet?”

“Really? The least? So, what you’re saying is, you relate more to serial killers? Or animal abusers? Or like, literal fasc—”

“Stop.”

“You want to do this. I can see it in your eyes. I’ll set you up.”

A part of Wonwoo knew there might be no wriggling out of the situation, especially with Seokmin sitting across from him, characteristically eager and brightly pushy as always, like a goddamn salesman. For now, it could be easier to let himself get cuffed.

“Can I at least have some time to think it over?”

“Uh… well… the thing is… the thing with that is—”

“You’ve cornered me?”

“I wouldn’t word it like that.”

“… Okay.” Wonwoo removed his glasses, shoved his knuckles tender but deep into his eye sockets, massaging through flashes of white as he came to accept a fate he didn’t know even existed in his astrology. “Just, I don’t know—fuck—schedule me in wherever.”

“Ha! It doesn’t exactly work like that.”

“I really don’t give a damn how it works, Seokmin.”

“Right,” his friend laughed nervously, “I promise that I’ll get back to you pronto. Sorry for the disturbance. And, uh, good luck.”

“With what part?” Wonwoo grumbled, fixing his spectacles back on to clarify Seokmin’s sympathetic face, the light bouncing off his head of brassy hair like a disco ball. “My incapability to write a goddamn thing or the fact I have to help your perfectionist friend who’s probably going to chew me up and spit me out?”

“Both parts.” Seokmin grinned. “It can only go up from here.”

Wonwoo had one very distinct memory of you: creative writing with Mr. T. It had been an elective class he took amongst all his compulsory maths, and at the time it was a much appreciated break when Wonwoo grew apathetically bored from looking at matrices and confidence intervals and equations that engulfed the length of his notebook. Professor T was late one day in the fall.

And that’s when Wonwoo remembered you walking in.

There was a sort of sharpness about your presence that pulled everyone’s spines straight. People tended to angle themselves away from you, though they did it subtly, feigning an adjustment in their seat or a plunge into their bookbag for something that wasn’t even there. Wonwoo lacked the words to describe you. To be honest, he most likely could if he put that infinitely expanding lexicon of his to work, but even then, he feared that everything would fall flat.

Some scruffy looking guy had made the mistake of sitting in your seat—someone who probably skipped most lectures and only happened to find himself near Gildan Hall purely by chance.

It was the seat squat in the middle of the small auditorium.

He remembered the hand propped on your hip as you sashayed up to him—you always sashayed places. Wonwoo found it funny, like there were paparazzi stuffed behind potted plants and vending machines waiting to spring out with their blinding flares, just to capture you picking up a half-empty bag of flavourless popcorn.

“Oh no. Oh no no no no no no no.”

“Hm?”

“Excuse me? Yes, hello. You—can you get up please?”

“Up...? Why?”

“Who are you?”

“I’m sorry… what’s this about?”

“Are you a first-year or something? Never bothered going to class until now? All the moshing and beer pong and ending up in some random basement of a friend of a friend of a friend is done so you’re deciding to actually get your money’s worth? Well, let me tell you this—I’ve been showing up to class punctually, and this is my seat. I always sit here. It’s my unofficially-assigned-assigned seat, which seems to be a known fact to everyone in this room except for you. Everyone has one. Everyone knows you’re not supposed to sit in other people’s seats. I don't care who you are. You could be my own mother. You could be my best friend, even. President of the universe. That doesn't make it okay, 'cause it’s a respect thing. It's one of those assumed societal rules and you just fucking kicked dirt all over it.”

Whoever he was, he never came back to another lecture.

Since then, Wonwoo had dually made it his mission to never cross paths with you, look at you, or even so much as huff one single carbon-dioxide filled breath in your general direction, just in case that was some degree of unbeknownst personal law he might violate.

Seokmin had royally screwed it up for him.

What could you possibly want to write a book about, anyway?

—MARCH 26TH.

Wonwoo didn’t know how he was expected to find you in this gigantic mall. As he brushed through the streamlines of people, bumping their shoulders and mumbling the driest, most insincere apologies, he couldn’t stop looking at his phone. Seokmin had given him your number with the instruction that he could find you, here, on a busy Saturday afternoon. So far, Wonwoo had sent you four texts, none prompting a response or the grey-dotted bubble, even. Fuck, why did he agree to this? He couldn’t stop thinking it.

Why did he agree to help you, whom he was beginning to not even like, or want to be aquatinted with, write a book, when he’d been struggling to fill the same page of his own story for months?

Squeezing the phone tighter in his fingers, Wonwoo’s broad shoulder then smacked into someone else while he was busy steeping in his misfortune. It earned him a wildly disgusted look.

“Maybe watch where you’re going," the stranger grumbled, some man with an engrained scowl and big, bewildered eyes.

But Wonwoo ignored him.

He didn’t fucking care, and he was sick of wandering through this mall. It made him feel overstimulated, like his clothes were sticking to his skin differently, like the back of his head was swelling, and like all the smells in his nose were somehow making him warmer.

The stranger just stared at Wonwoo as he walked away.

Ding!

A text, but not from you—Seokmin, instead. Apparently, you were in some clothing store on the second floor. Wonwoo stepped onto the escalator, pressing himself into the barrier to make room for the especially speedy people who couldn’t simply stand and wait. He felt a random touch on the back of his head. Scrunching up the glasses on his nose and turning around, Wonwoo stared at the downward escalator, locking eyes with a pretty dark-haired girl he’d never seen before. She wiggled her fingers at him with a flirtatious smile, the scent of her perfume still lingering. Fresh roses, he thought.

He blinked at her once, twice, then turned back around.

Never in a million years.

It was funny, though.

Once Wonwoo stopped outside the clothing store you were supposedly inside, he felt the myriad of distractions and scents and noises dampen behind him. The irritability he couldn’t shake was slowly transforming into nerves. He’d never met you before, unless half-glances controlled by fear from across the small, basement auditorium that hosted creative writing counted.

Focusing on one breath, and then another, followed by a deep, self-soothing inhale, Wonwoo attempted to convince himself that he was in control, not the emotions quivering at his fingertips.

He cracked his neck and walked in.

After a minute or two of confused isle-pacing, Wonwoo rounded a corner, his eyes immediately fixating on a girl who was picking through a neatly assorted dress rack, her head tilted elegantly and her lipstick glimmering under the sterileness of the lights—you.

He gulped. Just suck it up.

She can’t be that bad. You can’t be that bad.

“Uh, sorry to bother you. I’m Wonwoo. I know we have a mutual friend in Seokmin. Lee Seokmin. He’s in one of your seminar classes or something, and, uh…. anyway. I believe I’m supposed to help you with a book you’re interested in writing… that’s what I was told, at the very least. And… I know we’ve never met but… um… I guess…” he trailed off upon noting your lack of acknowledgement.

Suddenly, he was taking a step back, letting you progress further along the clothing rack, your fingers hopping between each hanger and your eyes scanning their corresponding fabrics.

Wonwoo jerked on the inside with panic. He hated the situation already, though he somehow found the resounding courage, or perhaps, humility, to address you again, even if he’d rather die.

“So, I’m not sure if you—”

“Can you move, please? Over here or something? I want this dress.”

He kept his mouth shut in order to avoid spilling out any obtuse nonsense, instead watching with a nervous, analyzing gaze as you removed the hanger and shook out the purple, wine-coloured fabric, its sparkles rippling when you stroked your hand along it.

“Woah. This is too pretty.”

Wonwoo cleared his throat, unsure if you were speaking to him directly. You already had a bundle of dresses tossed over your arm. Why would you meet up with him when you were clearly busy?

“Hey, what did you say your name was?”

“Me?” He found himself echoing.

“No, the mannequin wearing that hideous plaid mini skirt. Of course I’m talking to you. Should I get you a q-tip or something?”

“No... I don't need a q-tip. It’s Wonwoo.”

“Wonwoo?” You exercised the name slowly on your tongue.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, well, just so you’re aware, it’s 11:35. You were supposed to meet me outside the boutique at 11:30. I can see you’re not very punctual, so that’s noted…” for a moment, you stood back, and the searing line of your gaze judgmentally raked him from top to bottom. “Anyway… you’ll have to assist me with some things now, thanks to your big delay. I got all bored waiting for you, so I decided to do a little self-indulgent shopping."

It could have been wiser to continue biting his tongue, but even Wonwoo, who had practically vowed to avoid you for all eternity due to his fear, felt compelled to challenge your unorthodox logic.

“Big delay? I don’t mean to be rude, but I did take the bus to get here, and their timing is never right. I feel like five minutes is a reasonable time to wait. Not that I’m saying you’re impatient.”

“Well, here’s the thing…” your back turned to him as you took a few slow steps down the clothing rack, probing between the different, pricy materials for anything exuberant you might have missed. “That is what you said, isn’t it? That I’m impatient? I mean—jeez—why bother dancing around it when you can just say it?”

He watched you face him again, except he was keeping perfectly silent, clutching his hand into an anxious, balled fist.

“Well, I suspect you lack urgency, making you apathetic, so therefore you have no sense of initiative. I’m sure you’re already aware, anyway. I can be slow, too, with certain things. Like, when I’m icing a cake. Or painting my nails. But I don’t walk slow, ever. That’s for unmotivated, pointless people who will probably go nowhere in life.”

“… Pardon?”

“Hold this, please.”

Suddenly, you draped the wine-coloured dress over Wonwoo’s shoulder. And he left it there for a second, still gobsmacked, chest shuddering from the pressure of his pumping heart, and wondered how you were even a real person. Once you began walking elsewhere in the store, Wonwoo questioned a very understandable escape toward the exit, though, for some reason, he snapped from his stupor and quickly paced after you, now folding the dress more straightly over his arm. He realized he was too afraid to surrender.

“I’m supposed to help you write a book,” he stated, feeling his lungs dig deep for air, “Seokmin said you needed help.”

“Okay, I’m tired of holding these two. Here—” you again blanketed the dresses into his arms, “—please keep this olive one in good shape, no crinkles. I have yet to find this colour anywhere else.”

Swinging back around, you began heading toward the change rooms, your uncomfortably tall looking heels clicking with each step. Wonwoo stuttered, and he couldn’t stop doing it—just, absolutely baffled by you and your consuming sense of worth. He didn’t know what to say, he could only follow, producing bits and pieces of sentences that you were either ignoring or genuinely hadn’t heard in comparison to the monologues in your own head.

“At what point will we discuss why I’m here?”

Finally, he spat out something coherent.

You paused, and for a fleeting moment, flicked your very intense eyes up and down in an examination of Wonwoo, who felt like he was being intrusively picked apart under a microscope.

He swallowed tautly, “I’m just wondering… that’s all.”

You pressed your wallet against the top of his shoulder, guiding him to sit down on the white leather stool placed just outside the fitting rooms. He sat, too, fighting the urge to wipe his clammy palms on his jeans—even worse, the dresses you’d dumped on him.

“Let’s talk after I try these on, ‘kay?”

There was something different about your voice. It fell lower, sweeter, and he shivered with the thought that you had quite possibly just hypnotized him. He looked up at you, nodding his head.

“Good. Everyone calls me Her, by the way.”

“I know.”

He held his breath as you reached out to take a dress, the wine-coloured one, which was more like a dark, nightly amethyst now that Wonwoo was observing the fabric up close. So, what the hell was he supposed to do? Just sit there, twiddling his thumbs and shaking his knee while you busied yourself with fitting into all those wildly sumptuous dresses? There was a plethora of other things he’d rather be doing—too many to name, in fact. But he wasn’t going to bother slithering away now, chiefly because you petrified him too much and he wasn’t in the mood to be further guilt-tripped by Seokmin.

Throwing his head back, he blew out a tired huff and looked at the ceiling. Why the fuck was he doing this? He just couldn’t stop thinking it. What on earth could he possibly gain from being terrorized by your weird authority.

“Hey, I’ve been there, for sure.”

Wonwoo noticed an older man waltzing past him, probably in his early thirties or so, who’d spoken in a sympathetic tone. He seemed very polished and clean-cut, made apparent by his sleek suit, and as a university student who was routinely on the verge of going broke after most rents, Wonwoo knew money when he saw it.

“Pardon?”

The man stopped and smiled.

“Waiting for your girlfriend, aren’t you?”

“Oh, no. I’m just—”

He was interrupted by the squeak of the change room door.

“Be honest. How does this look?”

You had stepped out to examine your silhouette in the large, full-body mirrors against the wall, taking advantage of the heavier lighting to scrutinize every divot and ruffle that textured the amethyst dress. Wonwoo wasn’t sure what to say in the moment, and the man he was explaining himself to had wandered off into another aisle to answer a phone call. He watched your fingers pick and pull at the material so it could be readjusted in certain places, your bottom lip pursed as you angled your hips and tensed a leg to make a pose.

There were at least three other dresses strewn in his lap, and you were most definitely going to make him sit there and judge each one. Now, he could be honest. The dress was glittery yet sophisticated, something like a gloaming, purple-stained sky and its first emergent stars encapsulated into fabric, though he wasn’t completely sold on it. But he also wanted to leave the mall as quick as time would allow, so rather than being verbose, he shaved it down.

“It’s pretty, not great. I don’t really know.”

“Hmm…” you mumbled, keeping your eyes fixated on the mirror, “not great? What’s not great about it? The frilly parts?”

“Yeah, the frilly parts.”

God, he wanted to go home so bad. Warm tea would be nice right now. There were crinkle-cut fries in his freezer.

“Ugh, but I love the colour. I’m getting conflicted. Maybe I’ll toss it aside and think about it again later. Yeah, I’ll do that... okay, let me get the white one next. It’s a little short but I can make it work.”

Wonwoo carefully pulled out the white outfit from the bottom of the pile and handed it off to you. The skirt was notably cropped.

Again, you strode back into the change room and softly clicked the door shut behind you. Wonwoo pulled out his phone almost immediately, navigating to his texts with Seokmin. His thumbs blasted against the screen, tapping out literary warfare that expanded into a decent sized paragraph Seokmin would most likely respond to with an apologetic smiley face. It might take a day or two for Wonwoo to cool off, but he always forgave him. Mr. Sunshine.

When he heard the door rattle, Wonwoo quickly hid his phone back in his pants pocket; however, he severely regretted that decision because holy fuck—that vinyl white skirt was indeed short and tight and the winding, crossed straps of the top were just maintaining your cleavage. He needed something to help avert his eyes because Wonwoo felt them itch with the urge to stare at your body despite how uncomfortable he was. The floor tiles—count the floor tiles, or count the lights—something, anything to distract his brain.

“Okay, this is like—if I bend over, I’m flashing someone.”

He prayed you wouldn’t ask him his thoughts.

“But like—okay, I can make this work, right? This has potential. If I stand really straight, and proper, and, just… pull this down a bit here—okay, fuck, that was too much. Don’t look for a second… don’t look…. don’t look… m’kay, fixed it.”

Wonwoo wanted to cradle his head in his hands. And, right when he swore that the situation couldn’t sink much lower, the wealthy, black-suit man returned from his phone call. He paused the second he saw you in the mirror, watching intensely as you fiddled with the vinyl and attempted to adjust the x-shaped top a little higher over your cleavage. Except he wasn’t exactly modest about his gaze. It was drinking you in like some sort of insatiable alcohol.

“This is tough,” you huffed, pressing your hands against your chest, “the top is super sexy. I love how open the back is. But it’s such little fabric considering the price. It sucks that I look so hot in it.”

Horrendously, Wonwoo noticed a jewel bracelet slip off your wrist onto the tiled floor. Even more horrendously, he watched in the tensest position possible as you began to bend over and grab it.

No. No, no, no, no way.

The last two dresses spilled in a silk and cotton heap off his lap, nearly tripping him during his rush toward you. He managed to cover your backside in the most heart-hammering nick of time, his hands accidentally brushing in static sparks against yours to help you pull the tight fabric back down your hips. Knowing the man was still watching in the mirror, Wonwoo clasped onto your arm and dragged you back toward the fitting room, his cheeks turned to rubies.

“Fuck, you need to be more careful,” he rasped, “the skirt is too short for you to bending over like that, alright?”

“I’m not leaving a gifted two-hundred-dollar bracelet on the fucking ground. Should I have just kicked it into the change room?”

“Gosh…” Wonwoo rubbed along his neck with tire and lowered his voice. “Bending over in a skirt that short, especially when there’s a fucking weirdo watching you, is not the best procedure.”

“So, it’s my fault he’s a creep?”

“Okay—that wasn’t what I—um—”

“Do you even like this outfit?” You deadpanned.

Wonwoo chuckled in disbelief, “I’m not answering that.”

“This is useless." Your eyes agitatedly rolled. “I’m changing.”

“Great, whatever. Do that.”

He gently pushed you further into the change room and closed the door with a smooth, loud shutter. His heart was still racing.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t let my girlfriend wear that either.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Wonwoo didn’t care that his tone was snappish and clearly tired as he collapsed back onto the stool, making a point to ignore the perverted bastard until he left.

“Wonwoo!” You called his name after a few minutes of silence from the fitting room, “please bring me the green one!”

He wanted to utterly vanish, have the building collapse and crush him in a pile of dust plumes and rubble. Sliding the dress through the small gap in the changeroom door, Wonwoo found himself pausing.

“Why don’t I just hand all these to you?”

“Because, I’m using the hangers in here for my clothes.”

“Why can’t you just pu—”

“Thank you!”

Impatiently, you nabbed the dress and shut the door.

However, that dress was the last one you tried on, and Wonwoo couldn’t have been any more relieved. Talking to you seemed like it might give him heartburn or a hemorrhage.

He thought the shiny colour of olive green suited you best.

The dress was silken and long, slightly form-fitting, with a slit cut far up the right thigh and thin spaghetti straps at the shoulders.

You picked the first three dresses to take home, and left the last shimmery one on the rack.

“We’re leaving now?” Wonwoo asked, cracking his fingers.

“Yes, after I pay. Don’t seem so eager.”

“With all due respect, this place isn't really my scene.”

“Your attitude isn't really my scene.” You swiftly corrected him.

He stood next to you at the counter, observing as you zipped open your small black wallet to pull out a credit card. If you were shopping at a store like this, you must be making bank. But Wonwoo was somewhat nosey, and when you set the card on the countertop, he glanced at its embossed name. It definitely wasn’t your name.

Kim Mingyu.

It was your boyfriend’s.

[ Wonwoo | 1:15 pm ]: Goddammit Seokmin answer me

[ Wonwoo | 1:15 pm]: I’ve sent you at least ten texts

[ Wonwoo | 1:16 pm ]: Truly how do you do anything with this girl? I feel like she’s somewhat psychotic and you just fucking had to flash your sad mopey eyes at me in that café so I would break and help her write her book. I’m sitting here with dresses in my lap, pretty much acting as her unpaid personal assistant. Why the fuck is she asking me about dresses, anyway? Did you help her orchestrate this bullshit? I’m actually pissed at you. I want an entire paid lunch.

He wasn’t all that surprised you made him carry the matte silver shopping bag (with these twine handles that he absolutely hated because of how they suffocated around his fingers), and by a certain point, Wonwoo just didn’t give a damn any more. What little social battery he’d maintained since leaving his apartment had officially depleted, for he could feel it weighing in the plaza air around him like an imperceptible mist. Unfortunately, you weren’t lying about being a fast walker. He’d never seen someone stalk with such vigor.

It was nearly an endurance test to keep at your swaying hip, and the few times he fell behind, you would pause and beckon for him.

But Wonwoo discovered that even you needed to stop, to eat and drink like a normal human rather than the disguised cyborg he fleetingly speculated you were. Your touch was so abrupt—a hand had curled around his bicep and suddenly Wonwoo found himself being jerked into a café on the bottom floor of the mall. Of course, you had to pick the most expensive place to buy food in the entire fucking vicinity, and since Wonwoo was penny pinching at the moment, he opted to stand back and let you order.

But then he saw you flick open your wallet, waving Mingyu’s sleek yet flashy credit card between your fingers with blatant enticement.

“I can pay for you.”

He shook his head, muttering a careless, “no thanks.”

“Don't BS me. What do you want to eat?”

Wonwoo couldn’t stop staring at the credit card.

“What’s the limit on that thing?”

“Enough.”

“You haven’t burned through it already?”

“These openly snide comments you’re making aren’t appreciated, you know. Now, please give me an answer before I break off the temples to your glasses so I can use them to stir my drink.”

“… What?” Wonwoo mumbled, completely lost.

“Pick something!”

“Okay, fuck. I’ll just get a coffee, then.”

He took a step forward to examine the menu boards that the employees were wildly scuttling around underneath, browsing down their chalk-written cold brews until he picked one at random.

That was all Wonwoo asked for.

You bought a lemonade and some sandwich he didn’t catch the name of, toasted on panini bread. It felt amazing to sit down. Wonwoo let the silver bag slide completely off his arm and hit the floor, to which he could sense your gaze stinging over him in disapproval. He should have gotten a sandwich himself, but Wonwoo still wasn’t sure how he felt about using the money on your boyfriend’s credit card.

Wonwoo relaxed in his chair, angling a glance down at his phone that he kept below the table, checking for any Seokmin texts.

None. He was supposed to be Wonwoo’s stupid life preserver in this situation with you, and so far, he’d been left for dead. Taking a lengthy sip from his drink was the only way he could stomach it.

“You should put your phone on the table. Screen down.”

“For what reason?” Wonwoo responded in a dull tone, quickly checking his social media with impatient swipes of his thumb.

“So we can have a conversation.”

At that, he almost gagged, slapping down the coffee cup he’d just picked up.

“Now?” Wonwoo laughed, his deep voice reverberating louder than he intended around the café, “you want to talk now?”

“Uh, yes,” you answered, picking up one half of your sandwich and readying it before your mouth, “why is that shocking?”

“Because—you—ah, whatever.”

“You seem crabby. Is that your normal shtick or are you just hangry? Are you sure you don’t want anything to eat?”

He was in a worse mood than usual, but that could be blamed entirely on the mall and how exhausted it made him feel—everything about its environment sucked out his soul. It was most likely the reason he was even daring to act so impatient. You took another bite as you waited for him to answer, and the delicious crackling sound of the toasted bread managed to fissure something inside him.

“Your eyes tell all. Here’s the other half.” You offered.

Finally, he’d experienced his first flares of contentment that day, though he wasn’t expecting it to be from a panini sandwich with what he could taste to be lettuce, mayonnaise, tomato, and different types of melted cheese.

“Thanks.”

“Well, I’ll at least give us time to finish eating.”

[ Seokmin | 2:30pm ]: I can do one paid lunch :)

[ Seokmin | 2:30 pm ]: Her’s not psychotic she’s just uhh

[ Seokmin | 2:31 pm ]: She probs did it to mess with you

[ Wonwoo | 2:37 pm ]: She thinks being 5 mins late warrants putting me through one of the worst experiences in my life.

[ Seokmin | 2:37 pm ]: Awwww

[ Seokmin | 2:37 pm ]: Who doesn’t like a little shopping??

[ Wonwoo | 2:39 pm ]: It wasn’t shopping it was torture. You owe me so much more than a fucking lunch.

—MARCH 29TH.

Unfortunately, Wonwoo never got the opportunity to discuss your book that Saturday. In the middle of eating, your phone buzzed with a brief call that had interrupted your peculiarly passionate rant on the different cup sizes at the movie theatre (Wonwoo had listened without saying anything, mostly because he dreaded the circumstances that may come from peeping a word when you were so fixated on explaining that ‘the medium is too much but the small is too little and they’re both obnoxiously priced’).

He then watched cluelessly as you launched up from the table, collecting every little belonging between your fingers, babbling about some wax appointment that had escaped you.

It was just that simple—you were gone.

In the beginning moments of your absence, Wonwoo had sat there without much inclination of what to do next.

He’d worried it was another test, and that he was supposed to dutifully follow you to said wax appointment and continue bending to your every endeavour with no retaliation throughout the day. He had also found the silence across from him unsettling, in a way.

Nonetheless, if you weren’t there, then Wonwoo figured he didn’t need to be there either. So he left, taking the fifty-six back to his apartment, and you hadn’t contacted him since.

Wonwoo actually knew his landlord quite well.

Her building was comprised of four apartments, which sat above her pottery shop on the ground floor. She wasn’t a very bothersome landlord and it was fairly easy to connect with her whenever something broke or caused problems.

When he first moved in three years ago, Wonwoo had ardently adored living there, constantly studying the shelves of shiny glazed vases in addition to the beautiful water colour paintings that were created by his landlord or her students. It had been an inspiration supernova in terms of his personal literature, and he was able to start writing his book. Though, at the time, Wonwoo hadn’t been living alone in his apartment, and it was an inescapable fact that the only reason he began writing his book was with the hope of eventually presenting it to his old girlfriend-slash-roommate.

Now, it was just him.

And as Wonwoo pushed up from his grave of rumpled bedsheets, feeling lethargic and empty, he tried concerningly hard to pinch those thoughts from his mind. It was nearly lunch. He knew damn well he shouldn’t have allowed himself to rot that long in bed, but the other half of himself, the self-sabotaging kind, just couldn’t be bothered to fucking care. Wonwoo reached for his glasses that lay half-opened on the nightstand, raking them onto his face while brushing the hair from his eyes. The first thing he properly saw was his tall, skinny, orange bottle of venlafaxine. No. He was ignoring it.

Wonwoo had been ignoring it for the past few months.

Whenever he got particularly sick of staring at the bottle, he’d shove it in his drawer, making sure to bury it deep under old, amply-scribbled notepads and inkless pens that he’d worn to the bone. At last getting up from the bed, Wonwoo experienced his entire body sway and he caught the room spinning at the distant edges of his peripheral. But he walked through it without a care in the world, utterly too used to the feeling of imminent nausea even without his medication. He decided on a shower, then dressing himself, one Poptart, a swig of water from the kitchen tap, and almost walked out the apartment door with the minty toothbrush still in his mouth.

After walking three blocks down from his apartment, Wonwoo stepped across the dead, spiky grass and into the lacklustre parking lot behind the bowling alley that always smelled like stale pizza.

He knew the vanilla Camry well enough to identify it—stalled smack and centre amongst the emptiness—the licence plate being chiselled into his head like his old locker combination from high school (16-12-24, because Wonwoo for some reason liked fixating on prehistoric details that were glaringly useless in his present).

Early two-thousands R&B was blasting from inside the outdated-looking car, though it was thankfully turned down once Wonwoo threw the door open and shimmied inside.

The odor permeated Wonwoo’s lungs in a heartbeat.

“I thought you were getting this dry-cleaned,” he sighed to his friend, Vernon, who was busy rifling through a backpack.

“Uh, didn’t happen. Didn’t wanna pay all that. M’gonna find someone else to do it that’s not taxin’ my ass. Air fresheners are all dried n’shit so you’re gonna have to deal. My bad, Glasses.”

Glasses. That nickname had always made Wonwoo huff a little half-chuckle, and almost instinctively, he pushed the glasses a bit higher back up his nose. He was introduced to Vernon at a New Year’s Eve party he was forced to attend back in December, though it had been difficult to speak with him because he was blitzed out of his fucking mind—not to mention the choking pain of ignoring the girl who had been sliding her hands along the divots of his shoulders and chest from behind, kissing at his neck.

But Vernon was branded in tattoos, and had all kinds of metal in his face, and was blessed with concupiscent, honey-burnish eyes magnetized every woman in the vicinity straight to him.

Somehow, Vernon had become Wonwoo’s plug in the mix.

“Now, what are you gettin’, Glasses? The usual quarter ounce, right?” Vernon’s tongue poked between his blistered lips as he dug a heavily-inked hand further into the backpack seated in his lap.

“Yeah, quarter ounce.”

“Oh, fuck yeah. Found it. This one.” Vernon exchanged the plastic-bagged ounces of weed with Wonwoo’s cash. “Gimme, gimme. I know it’s all here, but let me check… “ he flaked out the tinted bills with a satisfied head nod. “Prettier than a princess. You’re golden.”

“Did you just say princess?”

“Yeah. That’s what I said… what?”

“I’ve never heard that.”

“It’s not princess?”

“It’s picture, isn’t it? Prettier than a picture.”

“Really? Oh. That’s not how I remember—why the fuck are we even talkin’ about this? Doesn’t fuckin’ matter. Now, that’s gonna last you if you’re cute,” he said, throwing his notorious bag into the seat behind him, then tapping at his busted radio with a thick strip of tape across it, the next song rasping through the speakers, “don’t go crazy on it with your meds and shit. Do you still got enough papers?”

Wonwoo scoffed dryly at Vernon’s assumption while he hid the plastic bag within an inside pouch on his navy-blue jacket. A second later and his phone buzzed with a text message.

“Fuck the meds, honestly,” Wonwoo grunted, shifting his hips up in the seat to remove the phone from his back pocket.

Vernon itched his dark eyebrow. “Alright. Just askin’.”

Wonwoo opted to say nothing as he checked the text message without much expectation, and he was thankful that Vernon was the type to drop a subject easily. Instead his friend transitioned into a different conversation, something about another tattoo that he’d been debating, but in the kindest way possible, Wonwoo wasn’t listening to a goddamn word. You had texted him. Finally. For the first time. After three days of radio silence. And Wonwoo didn’t know why he’d suddenly exploded into such a fidgety, heart-pounding mess. You wanted to meet up again in order to discuss the book’s details.

“Who the fuck is that? Jesus Christ?”

“No,” Wonwoo laughed, clasping his right hand into an anxious fist, “um, I dunno. Just—Seokmin’s got me doing this thing with a friend of his. She’s trying to write a book and he kinda threw me into helping her. We’re supposed to meet up and talk about it.”

“Oh,” Vernon answered, leaning his elbow against the window and sweeping a hand through his black tresses, “do I know the chick?”

“Maybe?”

“She got any social media? An Instagram?”

“Yeah.”

“Ou, let me see.”

Wonwoo wasn’t following you. Then again, he was hardly following anyone. His Instagram had remained completely empty since his girlfriend left him, which had prompted Wonwoo to archive every single picture and delete all the ones that contained her, even the ones that captured mere traces of her in beaded bracelets and hair ties and white socks left on the carpet.

Wonwoo used Seokmin’s account to find you. Honestly, he hadn’t ever looked at your Instagram before. Without gleaning a single photo, Wonwoo thrust his phone at Vernon.

“Oh, yeah, I do know this chick,” Vernon chuckled, thumbing through your profile with a growing smirk, “Her, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Mm, yeah. Know her. Tried to fuck her. Didn’t work at all.”

Snapping his head to look at Vernon, Wonwoo gaped, “what?”

“Yeah, I mean—” Vernon adjusted himself in his seat, pulling up his knee to rest a tattoo-coated arm across it, “—ran into the chick at a party that some rich dude at your university threw. Sweet-talked her for a bit until I realized she had a stupid boyfriend. She told me a million different ways to kill myself. Yeah, she’s somethin’, for sure.”

“You’re lying.”

“Ha—a little. She didn’t tell me to kill myself, just scolded me for about ten minutes. God, she was wired as fuck though. Her boyfriend—fuckin’, Mingyu, or whatever—he gets her coke. I’ve seen her take a line like it’s pixie dust, man. This was like, over a year ago, though. Dunno if she’s still that loopy. I don’t care. She’s pretty hot.”

Vernon then flashed him a picture from your account, a full body picture of you sprawled across sparkling white sand in a bikini, meanwhile Wonwoo could only stare at it with the blankest possible expression as his brain splattered with computing Vernon’s story.

“Is she still with him?” Vernon asked.

Wonwoo cleared his throat and sat with his spine rigid against the leather, nearly forgetting where he was and what he was doing.

“With who?”

“Lady Liberty. Mingyu.”

“Oh… yeah. They’re dating, still.”

“No fuckin’ way,” his friend lamented while he continuously plunged further into your pictures, thumb pressed to his chin, eyes glimmering, “you coulda flipped this book thing on its head and actually got some fuckin’ head, especially with that deep ass voice you got there. I know it’s gotta feel good. I mean, look at her lips—”

“You’re being gross as fuck,” Wonwoo groaned, swiping his phone back and stuffing it away, “get a girlfriend yourself, man.”

“I’m tryin’ to clean up my act a bit before I do that.”

“That’s definitely a work in progress, I’m assuming.”

“Asshole,” Vernon’s voice was gritty as he coughed into a fist, slipping his knee back under the steering wheel and proceeding to crank his stereo until the music was practically suffocating Wonwoo, “now get the fuck out. You’re not my only deal today. Sorry, Glasses.”

“Later.”

Wonwoo pushed open the door and stepped outside into the cold afternoon breeze. He sucked in a long, relieving breath. At times the fresh air disgusted him, especially when he cozied into one of his mental ruts and everything in the world seemed so grey it was soul-crushing, but Vernon’s car smelled like straight fucking cannabis.

Fresh air was heavenly.

“Don’t forget to text your girl!” Vernon laughed just before Wonwoo slammed the door shut to swallow up the melodic lyrics.

He wanted to make a snap comment before the boy drove off to his next endeavour, but he didn’t care enough to think of one.

[ xxx-xxx-xxxx | 1:35 pm ]: hey wonwoo, it’s her. I think we should finally settle a date to talk about this book thing. let me attach a pic of my schedule and you can pick any open slots

[ xxx-xxx-xxxx | 1:35 pm ]: 145_348.JPG

[ xxx-xxx-xxxx | 1:35 pm ]: seokmin isn’t going to be our communicator anymore, so u can stop complaining to him about it

[ Wonwoo | 1:45 pm ]: Okay, thanks.

[ Wonwoo | 1:45 pm]: I’ll take a look soon.

[ xxx-xxx-xxxx | 1:45 pm ]: I’m excited to see you again

[ xxx-xxx-xxxx | 1:50 pm ]: no likewise?!

[ Wonwoo | 1:50 pm ]: Likewise.

[ xxx-xxx-xxxx | 1:50 pm ]: ugh. thx

—APRIL 1ST.

It was around six in the evening and Wonwoo was seated in the SRX building, the sky rolling with lambent, hazy-toned pastures of peach in the windows behind him. He had arrived about an hour ago, taking the staircase up to the third floor. It was much quieter there, making it easier for Wonwoo to endlessly stare with glazed, void eyes at his laptop screen and the cursed document he couldn’t finish. After tapping his fingernails in a bored, repetitious pattern against the shiny white table, he felt the urge to delete each and every paragraph as if he hadn’t poured months of earnest love into them.

You would be meeting him soon.

He could still remember looking at your schedule, pinching into the screen and examining all the different colour-coded blocks: dinner parties, SSA meetings, gym sessions, errands—how the fuck you managed to juggle those things and more left him marvelled yet terrified. You were pretty on point regarding your arrival time, to which Wonwoo could immediately identify you before even seeing your face due to the heel clicking and the sounds of tapping jewelry on your bag.

Emerging onto the floor with a very intense scowl and a notably crushing grip on your drink, you were to say the least, angry. Wonwoo gnawed slightly on his tongue as you sat down.

Your purse clunked like a cinderblock onto the table.

He watched you inhale a slow, shaky breath, raising your hand with the expansion of your chest in order to calm down.

“I’m going to kill myself.”

Wonwoo leaned back in the chair, subtly trying to establish more distance between you. He flicked a glance at his laptop.

“Damn. Why is that?”

“Because of stupid, incompetent people.”

“Yeah?”

“I just—I don’t get it!” You laughed, though it wasn’t a particularly jovial sound and more than anything it seemed like you were going to start smashing glass. “I don’t get how people are unable to understand that we don’t do walk-ins unless one of the stylists are free—” you dug a hand into your purse, pulling out a straw, “—which in the salon’s case, is almost never! I tell them we can’t in my very sweet, established customer service voice: ‘I’m sorry, but the only way to receive a chair is to book online.'”

Wonwoo tilted his head, grinning a little.

“Blah, blah. I tell them the entire story in the kindest way I can, even though I want to grab them by their fucking neck and drag them over the counter to show them our website.” You slipped out your laptop next, accidentally dragging out a lanyard along with it that you agitatedly shoved back into the purse. “And then, they get all uptight and pissy when we can’t wriggle them in! Sorry, our makeup artists are busy! Working with people who made scheduled fucking appointments! The world doesn’t fucking revolve around you!”

You scraped the drink toward you, slamming the straw straight through the plastic film lid with such force that several people ended up turning their heads. After taking a long sip, you gulped and glared until they probably realized it was you and pretended not to care.

For a moment, Wonwoo didn’t know what to say, so he’d folded his arms instead. Considering that Wonwoo worked the late shift stocking shelves at the pharmacy department, your predicament sounded like an entirely new world to him.

“Ugh, I’m sorry to bring all this negativity with me,” you apologized, still exasperated, “I don’t need this fucking tea—I need straight vodka. I’m seriously frazzled.”

“Seriously frazzled?” Wonwoo repeated, finding your choice of words funny as he resumed leaning forward, arms still crossed.

“Very, seriously frazzled.”

“I’m sorry about your day.”

Again, you sighed deeply while removing your long, warm jacket to drape over the chair’s spine—it was a rather elegant reveal of the strapless pearl dress underneath, tinted by the evening light, peach-pink as it rained from the ceiling length windows and framed your body like you were some sort of resurrected angel. Tension at last started escaping your shoulders. Wonwoo quickly realized that he'd been staring, and his fingers curled into a nervous fist.

“You’re actually such a good listener.”

Wonwoo cleared his throat. “Um, thank you.”

“I like that you don’t interrupt me.”

Settling his elbows on the table and ruffling the back of his messy black locks, Wonwoo felt himself panic a little on the inside.

“Well,” he heaved in, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I know," you chirped, posturing yourself confidently, “anyway, the book. We need to talk about it.”

“Table’s yours.”

Wonwoo’s knuckles pressed softly into his cheek while he waited for you to prepare your laptop. His own document was glowing at him, and he swore the emptiness of the page made the screen brighter (in the absolute worst, most mocking way).

“Okay, I’ve got my ideas and such pulled up.”

He expected you to continue and introduce the concept, but you had suddenly stopped, and Wonwoo thought you appeared almost smitten and somewhat timorous. It was strange, because from what he’d known and gauged so far, you were nothing akin to that.

“Well, promise that you won’t think it’s ridiculous.”

“I don’t even know what it is.”

“That’s why I want you to promise!”

Wonwoo pushed up his glasses and sighed, “I will need to be honest at some points you know, depending on what kind of help you want from me. Not that I’m going to be a straight-up dick.”

You scoured at him from over your laptop.

“Whatever.”

“I’ll promise if it makes you feel better.”

“Just—shut up." You wiggled your hand at him dismissively and proceeded to tug the laptop closer. “I don’t even care anymore.”

Once you spent a moment affirming the document to yourself, you looked up at him and smiled. “I’m going to write a book for Mingyu. Our fifth anniversary is coming up in the winter—it’s actually on Christmas Eve—the day he officially asked me to be his girlfriend. I just want to write him a little memoire thingy that tells our story. I want it to walk through the events of our lives, and how I remember them. First encounter, first date, first kiss, stuff like that. I’ve already collected some good memories to include. I have… somewhat of an outline? But my problem is the writing. I can spew nonsense from my mouth at a million miles an hour, but when I try to actually write? It’s crickets.”

You sat back, a hand poised thoughtfully at your cheek while one leg folded over the other. Wonwoo knew you were granting him the space to speak and at least offer a slice of his thoughts, yet, in that moment, he found himself to be drowning. He didn’t believe in fate or destiny or anything of the delusional like; however, hearing you explain the exact premise of a story that he had been successfully writing until a certain breakup—it had shaken him, and Wonwoo felt like the universe was smearing salt fresh into his unsewn wounds.

“So…” your head cocked to the side. “Can I at least an ‘okay’ or a head nod or some sign of life? Or are you just too disgusted?”

What could he say? What was he supposed to say?

Wonwoo was genuinely clueless on how to help you write a story that he’d been utterly failing at writing himself. And, sure, maybe Wonwoo should just give up completely. His ex-girlfriend had ripped out his heart without a single indication that it would happen, and then exited his life in the blink of an eye, disappearing so fucking abruptly that Wonwoo could have said she was a shadow that he imagined in pure lunacy. But he hadn’t dropped the story because there was this very stubborn, unwilling part of his being that could not move on from her—her, who had been his love, and breath, and bones.

He’d decided to finish the story as a manner of easing into closure. If that closure never came, then so be it.

“Are you seriously fucking ignoring me right now?”

His silence had promptly disturbed your peace, and now you were glaring at him with the beginning licks of fire and hell in your eyes.

“I don’t think I can help you.”

“What?” You pronounced sharply. “Are you kidding?”

“No, I’m sorry,” Wonwoo said while closing his laptop and sliding it back into his shoulder-sling bag, “I just—I’m not the right person to help you. I’m not, and you’ll have to take my word for it.”

“Seokmin told me you could write fucking anything. He made it out like you were some literature God with a golden quill. And—great, you’re just packing up fucking everything. Are you serious? Am I even allowed more of an explanation or are you gonna leave it at that? Wonwoo, you couldn’t have told me this at a worse time.”

“I didn’t plan for it to be like that.” He could hardly push the syllables up his diaphragm. “It can’t be me. I’m sorry.”

You didn’t lift a finger to stop him from leaving, though the wavelength of your incinerating stare was felt like a hot, melting scratch down his neck. This was terrible, he was terrible—Wonwoo already knew that about himself. He wanted to go home. He wanted to shut himself away in his room and sink straight through the sheets until he was swallowed. His anxiety was webbing around him. It was pulling him down into the soil and earth like he belonged there.

He truly hated this part of himself.

More than anything, he truly hated when other people saw it.

Especially people like you.

—APRIL 8TH.

Wonwoo didn’t think you would ever speak to him again, in person or over text message. In retrospect, he was fine with it. You were rather overwhelming and especially tiring for someone like Wonwoo who would be perfectly fine never seeing another human in his lifetime. Not to mention he was freed from helping you with your book, which he learned was a technical love letter to your boyfriend in addition to a romance he wanted a nonexistent part in. Going down that path once was already excruciating enough, and given his anxiety attack that saw him locked in a cold washroom stall last week, it was best you just forget about him. He assumed you already had, anyway.

After he stocked the last red bottle of sinus medicine onto the shelf, Wonwoo used his boxcutter to break down the cardboard package and fold it flat with the others he’d opened. It was time for his break, and then he would only have one more hour until the pharmacy section closed for the night. Once it hit ten o’clock, the store was automatically still and hardly anyone came in—minus the few student couples whom Wonwoo had to point in the direction of pregnancy tests or plan b. But it was a Tuesday night. He was at the bare minimum appeased he didn’t have to console a sobbing, snotty-nosed eighteen-year-old girl imploring for a First Response.

When he collapsed down at his favourite seat in the breakroom, Wonwoo pulled out his phone. He had sent Seokmin a text yesterday evening about going studying at the SRX building for their upcoming math midterm, though Seokmin had yet to respond and Wonwoo couldn’t evade wondering if you were pulling some strings behind the curtain.

He opened his bottle of juice and spent the remainder of his fifteen listening to music and jittering his knee.

Wonwoo took his earbuds with him back onto the floor, sneaking the wires under his shirt to pull out his collar. There were only a few boxes left on his cart that required stocking, and whatever didn’t fit would have to be scanned into storage. That shouldn't take long. Wonwoo could almost taste the crisp atmosphere of the night air and feel the gentle chilliness soon to ghost against his face.

However, halfway into shelving the cough drops there had been a polite tap on his shoulder, and Wonwoo wanted to wither up and lose his head right there on the tiles like a sundried rose.

He didn’t know who to expect when he turned around, pulling out a single earbud while the other continued to blast his music.

“Oh, shit—I didn’t know you worked here.”

Fuck. He wanted to kill himself.

“Yeah, started a couple months ago, actually.”

Mingyu.

It’s not that Wonwoo didn’t like speaking with him, because they had definitely exchanged cordial conversations in the past, particularly when they both took that Probability Poker elective last semester and Wonwoo learned that Mingyu was a pretty decent bluffer. Unfortunately, Mingyu’s belief that he was a great bluffer was actually the one indication that he was indeed bluffing. It showed in his overly confident eyes before a twitch of the lips or a subtly shifted foot, meanwhile Wonwoo was able to sit there the entire time like he was an Easter Island statue incarnate.

Put simply, Wonwoo had always preferred to avoid Mingyu because he was your boyfriend, and per routine, he attempted to slip around most people that were associated with you.

“Cool.” Mingyu smiled and the flashes of his pointed teeth caught the light. “Stuff’s got switched around in here again.”

“New mods came out last week,” Wonwoo answered, placing the last cough drop box onto the shelf and facing it straight.

“Well, don’t know what the fuck that means,” his tone was brassy as he laughed, “I just came to ask where the plan b is now.”

“Two aisles down, check the endcap.”

“Appreciate it, thanks—oh, condoms?”

“Next aisle.”

“Got it.”

“Just come get me when you’re done,” Wonwoo said, grabbing his boxcutter and running the blade along the taped seam of the cardboard to satisfyingly slice it open, “I’m the only one in pharmacy right now, so I have to ring you up.”

As soon as Mingyu disappeared around the corner, Wonwoo tossed the flattened cardboard onto his cart with the loudest, most life-draining sigh that could be harboured. He wasn’t the kind of person to cultivate those racing, panicky thoughts that consumed his brain like a merciless hurricane, rather it was typically one single thought that was an eternal black space to swallow him. But Wonwoo had to admit that seeing Mingyu had triggered something of the latter, and now he was feeling sick with the fact you possibly told Mingyu about his episode at the SRX building last week. To Wonwoo it had been the shackles of his anxiety, though it probably came across as a very ill-mannered, abrupt rejection from your perspective.

Mingyu didn’t take long picking out his items. It was clearly a run of the mill routine for him at this point—a mere grab and go.

At the register, Wonwoo mentally questioned why Mingyu had grabbed such a plethora of condoms. He didn’t mean to be vulgar in his thinking, but how often were you getting fucking railed?

Either that, or Mingyu preferred being well stocked.

Vernon would be bruising his knuckles on his steering wheel right now, considering how devotedly he attempted to seduce you.

As payment, Mingyu pulled out that godforsaken credit card that you had borrowed during the dress shopping. Wonwoo felt nauseous just looking at the damn thing. He swiped all of the items into a small plastic bag which he then handed to Mingyu with a notable impatience, wanting to whisk the boy out as quick as possible.

“G’night, man. Thanks for the help.”

“Night,” he answered in a deep, tired sigh, watching Mingyu’s head of thick and bouncy black hair disappear toward the aglow exit.

Well, clearly you weren’t wasting anytime thinking about him despite the dramatics pertaining to the situation last week, not even in the most marginal fraction. Mingyu must rail it out of you every night—not that Wonwoo would be surprised to learn such a thing considering the tall boy’s physique and your openly lascivious nature.

Well, good luck to you both, he supposed.

At least it was closing time.

Wonwoo had always suspected there was something ever so slightly off kilter about his body, especially in the way it reacted to certain situations and emotions. He knew it probably wasn’t the most mundane, ordinary act—locking himself in his aunt’s washroom the day of his sixteenth birthday, sliding down onto the cold, hard tiles, feeling his heart jolt, punch, and thump again his chest like a battering ram. There had been a pattern of rubber ducks on her eggshell blue shower curtain, and Wonwoo remembered counting them row by row, over and over, until his breath managed to steady.

Twenty-four ducks. He could still recall the number.

A doctor’s visit about three weeks later had granted him the diagnosis and a scribbled venlafaxine prescription. Wonwoo was already collecting his sweater off the tissue sheet bed, ready to leave.

In the beginning, he was strict about his medication. He organized them into pill cartridges and set alarms and always ate them with cooked, warm meals. Understandably, his habits dwindled every now and again, however, Wonwoo was quite pious to the routine for a good couple years. But then he met his most recent girlfriend in university. She was shy and reserved. All about the books.

Cute as buttons.

He fell in love.

And it was all such a rush of rose petals and sweet symphonies that Wonwoo became distracted from his healthy habits.

Of course, everything crashed and burned once she abandoned him. He capitulated in an instant, and the sight of the orange bottle made him paler than winter moonlight. It’s not like he wanted to suffer, or despise the way his body put him through a neural hell beyond his own control. The fact of the matter was that Wonwoo just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t take those stupid pills.

It was a mountain. Every. Single. Time.

And for the third time that week, Wonwoo found himself awake at an ungodly hour, rifling through the black lunchbox he kept in his closet with his glasses about to slip off the fine point of his nose.

He pulled out the baggie filled with the quarter-ounce, his silver grinder, and his rolling papers. Moving to his desk, Wonwoo clicked on the small overhead lamp to illuminate his space, in which he tapped some of the weed into his grinder and began twisting the lid until he was satisfied. He liked preparing joints to smoke on the roof. It wasn’t particularly hard to access, anyway. Right outside his bedroom window was a balcony with a short ladder attached to the brick, and once Wonwoo had discovered it, he made a habit of climbing up to spark his joints so that their pungent aroma could be carried away by the fresh winds usually stirred up at gloaming.

Honestly, it was the only thing he enjoyed.

Just before he slipped out the window, Wonwoo grabbed a pair of black jeans he’d worn earlier in the week, discovering the lighter he’d accidentally left in the back pocket.

The ladder shuddered slightly when Wonwoo gripped it, though if he were being candour, he didn’t care whatsoever if all the bolts suddenly loosened and he were to splatter against the sidewalk like an uncooked pancake. In fact, the fall probably wasn’t enough to kill him. Maybe a few broken bones and scrapes, some blood staining the street akin to little patterns of rain, bruises that signatured violets into his skin, but Wonwoo would still be painfully, vividly alive, enough to see the stars if the glasses didn’t snap off his face.

It was a colder night, so Wonwoo made sure to tuck on his beanie and huddle into his thicker-sized coat. He sat with one leg dangling over the building’s edge, feeling the wind whiplash against his back and crawl in these chilly, indecipherable whispers from his shoulders to his neck, almost tickling him, like it had missed him.

An orange flicker popped to life from the butane of his lighter, which he used to lightly singe the joint perched at his lips. Wonwoo then tilted his head back, blowing the cloud and its loose, airy curls straight into the sky’s deepest purples.

He loved being alone.

Even when his ex-girlfriend had moved in with him all those months ago, there was an unyielding part of him that hadn’t been ready to forfeit all his space and privacy.

But, over time, his love surmounted the sacrifice.

He would wake up to her sleeping face, and with thoughtful nudges, clear the hairs off her cheeks. He would spend an hour working on his homework or writing his story while waiting for her to stir so messily in the sheets that it became graceful. He would tease her with his cold hands as she boiled up tea in the kitchen, pinching at her hips with the utmost softness and giggling huskily into her neck when she would twist in the arms that bracketed her body against his chest. He would trap her between the counter, sunshine striking the room aglow in these nearly blinding seas of light, mouthing at her throat and tugging at her shorts and hitching his fingers so deep into her heat because all Wonwoo wanted to do was make her feel good.

Opening his eyes again, Wonwoo saw the stars rather than her face. The high was disseminating past his lungs and mingling with the pain that festered in his heart, concocting something that hurt so wonderfully, in all the right places, in all the right spots.

He was a fucking mess.

It wasn’t sustainable. But he didn’t care enough to fix himself.

—APRIL 15TH.

Why did Wonwoo keep coming back to that café? The number of times he’d sat down with conviction that today would be fruitful—today, the eloquence would flow from his fingertips like perfectly pitched music notes and the symphony would read as beautiful and mellifluous as it sounded in his mind. Today, he was going to write.

Except, he accomplished nothing of the sort.

Repeatedly tapping his index finger against the space bar, he waited for the right adjective or phrase to leap out—to grasp him in a headlock even—whatever it took, Wonwoo was willing to sit there all afternoon until one fucking word conjured in the infinite blankness that was his imagination. He reached for his drink, only to take a sip of dry air that smelled like his earlier cocoa. Wonwoo realized the cup was empty. Had he wasted this much time already?

It pricked similarly to a bee sting. His passions felt impossible. A sigh upheaved from his chest and fingers curled into his hair, musing up the already disarrayed strands and slowly warping himself to look more and more like a mad scientist. Wonwoo removed his glasses and slumped back in the chair, rubbing at the reddish prints left on his nose. Writing had soaked itself in agony and he was going to remain in the storm of it until the bitter, ungratifying end.

‘Till death do us part.

And then, something struck.

Though it wasn’t what Wonwoo had hoped for.

Literally—it was your hand hitting the glass of the café window, which had jerked Wonwoo out from his self-pitying.

He scrambled to fix his glasses back on, your face clarifying in an instant. You smiled at him with your glossed lips, and he didn’t like the nuance of your countenance one bit. Watching you enter the café was jarring and uncomfortable and his fist immediately clenched, his index nail picking at the ruined cuticle of his thumb. Two weeks ago—that was the last time you had spoken. At the SRX building.

“Hey!” You sounded friendly. “Can I sit here?”

“Well, uh—”

“Great, thank you.”

You pulled out the chair across from him, then set your bag delicately on the windowsill. Wonwoo watched with nervous, fluttering eyes as you smoothed out your cropped skirt before sitting down, ensuring it was tucked under yourself appropriately.

“How are you?”

Gulp.

“Fine.”

“Good. That’s really good. I’m glad.” Your nails drummed once against the table. “I actually didn’t plan on coming here, but I saw you as I was crossing the street, and I thought, ‘I should stop by and check in on him’ because, y’know, we haven’t been talking.”

Wonwoo furrowed his brow. “Do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

“Slap your hand against windows to get people’s attention.”

You swept something off the table with your palm, and this sunshine-like laugh turned your entire face to sweetness, but it wasn’t entirely earnest, and Wonwoo bit into his lip because you fucking terrified him. He caught your sparkling eye and wanted to melt.

“Did I scare you? I’m so sorry.”

“No, you’re good.”

“What are you working on?”

“A paper.”

Obviously, he was going to lie. Whether or not you could pick up on his lie was beyond Wonwoo’s control at that point. He didn’t know what you wanted, or why you were interrupting the flow of your very organized scheduling system to seemingly toy with him.

You didn’t respond to his paper comment. There was a thick silence between you despite the distant clattering of dishes, bubbling coffee machines, and conversations that coalesced into one big buzz.

Wonwoo bit the bullet.

“Something you want from me, yeah?”

“Not… exactly… I mean, after you left me at the SRX building, I wanted to get very angry about the whole situation. My day was terrible, and you responding to my idea with that sickly look on your face didn’t help. But I thought about it. You said no. I can’t ask anything more of you, y’know? I have to respect what you said.”

“Oh.” Wonwoo unclenched his fist, stretched out his long legs a bit more. “Yeah, sure. I get it. Thanks for understanding.”

“I just didn’t think my idea was that bad.”

“Well… no. It’s not bad. It’s not bad at all.”

A twitch to your lip suggested you didn’t believe him. Wanting to clear the air a bit, Wonwoo stopped slouching. He sat straighter and lowered the lid of his laptop, inviting the space between you.

His mouth opened, and then closed.

Fuck, just breathe you idiot—he cursed at himself.

You did that little head tilt thing, half-smiling at him, looking radiant underneath the café sunlight and so oddly patient with his tied-tongue that Wonwoo was miraculously able to find his words.

“There is nothing wrong with your idea. I made it seem like there was. I’m sorry. I just don’t want to help you write a romance story, for personal reasons that would be useless explaining. But you seem very confident in everything you do. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Hm, well, thank you for believing in me. Romance can be a touchy subject—I didn’t think of that, and I get it… I guess I felt more insecure about your reaction because writing is the one thing I can’t ace. I do need help with my story, even if I don’t want it. Well, it’s just the truth, isn’t it? There are some things I can’t do!”

You chuckled at yourself, and Wonwoo thought it to be actually endearing. All your hard edges softened in that moment.

“So, I haven’t made any progress in my story, which sucks because I’m operating by deadline—” reaching into your bag, you unveiled a small, compact mirror, using it to remove something invisible from your eyelash, “—do you have any writer friends that would help me?”

Wonwoo scratched his nose.

“Uh, with the book?”

“Yes.”

“None.”

“What?” The mirror snapped shut as you gagged at him. “How do you have no writer friends? Isn’t that your major? Literature? Do you even have friends that aren’t Seokmin?”

“I’m a math major for fucks sake.”

“You’re fucking joking, Wonwoo. Please, tell me it’s a joke.”

He leaned back, folding his arms and propping an ankle onto his knee. You were still gaping at him, and he wanted to smirk.

“What’s wrong with math?”

“Nothing. Math is… math,” you gritted, shoving the mirror back into your expensive-looking, gold-buckled bag, “but why math? Why straight math? I thought you wanted to be a writer.”

“Man, Seokmin really didn’t tell you fucking anything, did he?” Wonwoo chuckled. Or, maybe you had only heard the things you wanted to hear, which was what Wonwoo assumed.

“Like I have space in my brain to remember the multiverse of information that constantly comes out of his mouth.”

“So what is there space for then?”

“You're toeing a dangerous line.”

“Well, I like math and writing.”

"And what kind of papers would you be required to work on as a math major? Did you stumble across some quintessential theorem that nobody else really cares about except for you and all the other pocket-protector wearers out there? Or is this a Good Will Hunting scenario? Even better—are you waiting for someone to walk by behind you and see all that really complicated mumbo-jumbo on your screen and think to themselves, 'woah, this guy is really smart. He's working on a paper with numbers, and I only work on papers with words. Where did I go wrong in my life?' so you can develop some sort of alternative complex that writing just isn't giving you?"

Wonwoo cocked his head at you, perplexed.

“What the absolute fuck are you talking about?” He felt a laugh in his chest, but he pushed it down. Wonwoo had never met anyone like you before. “You made up everything you just said.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“I go on tangents. It’s just something I do.”

“Damn. I can tell.” Wonwoo rubbed at the corner of his eye and slipped the ankle off his knee, further spreading his legs. “You like hearing the sound of your own voice, yeah?”

He always hated when people bothered him at the café, especially when he was trying to write. Today, it was different.

“Well, that’s true.” You beamed at him so matter-of-factly, like it was obvious. “The most beautiful sound in the world, isn’t it?”

“Mm.”

“Thought so. Ugh, I just can’t believe you have no writer friends to hook me up with.” He watched you slouch forward, slapping your arms across the table. “I’ll have to go wait outside Gildan Hall and start ambushing all the smart-looking literature majors.”

Wonwoo found himself examining your perfect nail polish.

“Good luck with that.”

“Can you at least try to sound more sympathetic?”

“You don’t seem like a person who appreciates sympathy.”

“Pft. According to who? I like being comforted when the time is right, and you’re not being very comforting.” You groaned into the table.

“You like being comforted?” He scoffed.

Your head popped up, and you were pouting. “At certain times, yes. Most times, no. It’s a complicated system. No one’s really cared enough to learn it except for Mingyu, and that was by force, and I think even he hates it. But I’m not asking for the moon. Just a reasonably sized chunk of it. I have to be worth something, right?”

“What’s life without someone catering to your every whim at the drop of a hat, huh?” He couldn’t help but mutter with sarcasm.

“Yes, exactly! See—you read my mind.”

Wonwoo bit his tongue.

“Ugh, now where’s my stupid phone?”

It was in your purse. Immediately, your eyes lit up.

“Jesus Christ. I’m gonna be late to my electrolysis!”

Like a burst of lightning, you shot up from your seat and quickly fixed the cream-white purse back over your shoulder. It reminded him of that time at the mall. One second you were engrained into a tangent, and the next you were scrambling about, attempting to recover the lost time in your meticulous schedule.

“If you think of anyone, please text me!”

Wonwoo nodded his head.

Now, there was a vacant seat before him, left slightly tugged from the table due to your hectic departure. For a moment, he just sighed, feeling the breath emerge from somewhere so deep in his chest that it ached. That was the thing about you—in a confusing turmoil, you managed to fill him up when he felt empty, but then empty him once he felt full.

He didn’t know what kind of person you were.

But there was an odd thrill to it that Wonwoo couldn’t articulate.

—APRIL 18TH.

Sat with Seokmin at the boy’s dining room table, Wonwoo popped a purple grape into his mouth while flipping a pencil between his fingers. The two had been staring plainly at their last problem from the math homework, but the question was horribly long, and his handwriting had morphed from legible penmanship to the most slurred hieroglyphics. Wonwoo wanted to dump a ramen packet into some boiling water and call it a night. He’d devoured a whole stem of grapes. His head was pounding and his stomach growled for a meal.

“Oh! You see—this is what gets me every time!” Seokmin exclaimed, leaned over his scattered papers, shoulders hunched with strain, “I mess up one multiplication in a matrix, and it screws me all up! Now I have to go over—uh! My fucking pencil just snapped.”

“Good,” Wonwoo mumbled, pressing a hand along the groove of his stiff neck, cracking it, “take it as a sign to give up.”

“We’re so close.”

Scooting the chair back to stretch his legs, Wonwoo then snatched his phone off the table. It was nearly ten at night.

“I’m hungry, and I don’t care anymore.”

Seokmin sighed, “are you going to eat now?”

“Yeah. Any ramen left?”

“It’s in the box sitting on top of the fridge. Soup broth is in the cupboard beside the microwave. I think there’s some eggs, too.”

Wonwoo easily grabbed the noodle packet off the fridge. He asked his friend if he wanted a bowl as well, and Seokmin agreed, abandoning their math homework after his defeating pencil-snapping incident. While they waited for the water to start bubbling over the stovetop, Seokmin had joined Wonwoo in the kitchen, though he leaned against the counter, holding his phone six inches or so from his face. Wonwoo had never seen anyone text that fast.

Gosh—he didn’t even need to ask who it was.

Noticing a few smudges on his glasses, Wonwoo lowered them down to the hem of shirt, beginning to massage the marks away.

“Our math final is the twenty-eighth, right?” Seokmin asked.

“Should be, yeah.”

“Thanks. If it’s on the twenty-eighth then I can definitely go.”

Wonwoo slid the glasses back onto his nose.

“Go to what?

Taptaptaptap—Seokmin’s fingers were practically electric.

“Uh, this thing that Her is having… at her parents’ house… like… a big dinner party… I’m helping her plan it… just need to make sure… I’m free those days… there! Okay, all settled.”

At last, Seokmin had clicked off his phone and slid the device back into the pocket on his sweatpants. Wonwoo folded his arms, staring at his friend with a deeply furrowed yet confused brow.

He sucked in a helpless breath.

“I don’t get you, Seokmin.”

“What—why?”

A few hot droplets of water had leapt from the pot, slightly scalding Wonwoo’s arm. He promptly ripped open the ramen packet and submerged the noodle brick, poking at it with chopsticks.

Wonwoo cleared his throat, “are you obsessed with her?”

Seokmin laughed, sounding astounded.

“No, I’m not obsessed. I’m just helping. We’re friends.”

“Right.”

“You don’t believe me?”

Setting the chopsticks beside the stove, Wonwoo turned around again, habitually crossing his arms low along the chest.

“I guess I don’t understand what you get out of that relationship.” He admitted. “Why can’t she do shit herself?”

“Ha!—That’s an interesting question.”

“You don’t want to talk about it?”

“No, it’s not that.” Seokmin lifted himself onto the kitchen counter, his head thumping back against the wooden cupboard. “I just wasn’t expecting you to ask that. And—I meant it’s interesting to see your interpretation of it. Like, my friendship with Her.”

Wonwoo nodded. He wasn’t going to coax anything out of his friend that he wasn’t already willing to say. In fact, Wonwoo had only begun talking to Seokmin back in the early, rainy days of September, since they ended up in the same discrete mathematics course and happened to choose seats right next to each other. Their bond had formed fairly quick, but they never really conversed about topics more intimate than school work and their own interests.

“I’m sorry,” Wonwoo said, “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, don’t apologize. I mean, I totally get why you’re curious.”

Seokmin glanced down at his knees, scratched his chin.

“Uh—well, what did you say, anyway? Why can’t her do shit herself? I mean, her life is super busy. Her mom’s a writer and editor for that popular fashion and beauty magazine you always see at all those glamour stores—Stunning Monthly—something like that. Her’s dad is this business tycoon guy. He works with my dad, actually. I’ve known Her since high school. Our families are close, so naturally we’ve spent a lot of time together. Her family picked up all their stuff and moved into Hillcrest on account of her dad needing to relocate for work.”

Wonwoo remained silent at the revelation, even though he was urged by curiosity to badger Seokmin with questions.

“But, uh—without all my non-essential rambling—the relationship with her parents is tumultuous. Who doesn't have a shaky relationship with their parents, though? A few lucky souls, probably. But they've set things up for her quite well, in my opinion. Her mom got her a job at the Milestone—that fancy beauty place down Bank Street? She has a makeup chair from time to time and works reception. She’s definitely gonna graduate Cum Laude with some big fancy scholarship. Not to mention the little power couple thing she’s got going on with Mingyu. She just tends to be…” Seokmin winced, massaging his shoulder, “she’s just a bit unpredictable. It would be way too easy for things to start falling all over the place. She’s a busy girl so I figure it’s nice to help her out. Keep things organized.”

Wonwoo bobbed his head, thinking.

“I guess I’m curious about the book thing. I mean, if everything is so perfectly laid out for her, and she’s so busy all the time…. why write a book? That takes months, extreme dedication, planning out the ass… it’s loving everything you’ve written and then hating it so atrociously… I don’t know,” he sighed, shrugging with confusion, “if I were her, writing a book would be the last thing on my mind.”

Folding his arms, Seokmin leaned back against the cupboards and agreed. “I know. But sometimes she just lurches onto random things out of nowhere. One year she practically turned her entire living room into a freakin’ art studio and I slipped on an open tube of paint on the floor—nearly popped out my tail bone. To be fair, her passion projects never last long. She never has the time, as you said… I know you’re not helping her anymore. She’ll probably drop it without help.”

“Really? Just like that?”

“Yeah,” Seokmin answered, smiling, “just like that.”

For some reason, Wonwoo gritted his teeth. He would hate for you to discard the feat so readily, just because he couldn’t pitch in as initially planned. Yes, writing was not always a fruitful cherry blossom tree and sometimes chalking down one sentence was equivalent to a month of effort and squeezing out all the creative fibres in one’s brain, but there was so much worth and occulted beauty to it at the same time. It was the art of expression.

Wonwoo thought it was quite cruel to deprive oneself of the ability to express and articulate things as they coursed through the fragile skin and the warm veins, and chiefly, the heart.

“Anyway, maybe I didn’t really answer your question,” Seokmin laughed, “but, y’know, don’t worry too much about turning down the book. You’re right. She’s got more important things to focus on, as I was telling her over and over, and—oh! Fuck, the ramen’s bubbling!”

Wonwoo quickly twisted around as the water began spilling over the edge and sizzling like fried meat. He lifted the pot off the piping hot, orange element, to which Seokmin joined him, twisting the stove dial to a much lower heat. Blowing at the white froth, Wonwoo waited a precautionary minute before returning the pot.

Once dinner was ready, they gathered back at the dining table, entwining the noodles with their chopsticks and hardly allowing a second for the ramen to cool before they were shovelling in burning mouthful after mouthful. The bite in Wonwoo’s stomach was gradually appeased. He soon felt warm, and full, and less tempered.

“Seokmin.”

“Hm?” His friend glanced up from his phone.

“So…” Wonwoo leaned back in the chair, his fist clenched. “I guess what—from what I understand—if I don’t help Her, or if she doesn’t find someone who can, then the book just won’t happen ”

At his observation, Seokmin nodded, seeming unbothered.

“Uh, yeah. Pretty much.”

“That’s sad.”

“Hey, you two just aren’t destined for each other,” he replied, slurping his noodles, “you were right back at the café.”

Picking up the white and blue patterned bowl, Wonwoo prepared to drink the broth, feeling the delicious heat fan back against his face. Once he finished eating and helping Seokmin with the dishes, he planned to catch a late-night bus back to his apartment above the quaint pottery shop. He didn’t know if he would sleep or not.

Maybe, however, that would give him time to rethink some choices, even if he shouldn’t trust the musings his brain happened to curate past nine at night. Especially any musings concerning you.

[ Wonwoo | 11:45 pm ]: Sorry to message you this late.

[ Wonwoo | 11:45 pm ]: I’ll keep it brief: I’ve given your book idea some thought, and if the offer still stands, I’d like to help you write it. Though, I understand if you want someone else’s help.

[ Wonwoo | 11:50 pm ]: Goodnight.

[ xxx-xxx-xxxx | 6:35 am ]: AHHHHHHHHHHH

[ xxx-xxx-xxxx | 6:35 am ]: good morninggg

[ xxx-xxx-xxxx | 6:35 am ]: no that’s so perfect

[ xxx-xxx-xxxx | 6:37 am ]: okay. OMG. there’s just so much we have to sort out. I’m trying not to overwhelm myself lol

[ xxx-xxx-xxxx | 6:37 am ]: thank u for giving it more thought. I’m excited to plan everything and see u again ofc :)

[ Wonwoo | 12:55 pm ]: Likewise.

—APRIL 24TH.

Since last November, Wonwoo hadn’t invited many guests to his apartment—not even his older brother, who had never stepped foot into the building after Wonwoo originally signed the lease. Seokmin visited once or twice, but everything was curt, and while there had been one time that Vernon slept overnight on the couch, it was hardly notable.

Knowing that you were going to be at his apartment in a few hours was a very daunting thought. Consequently, Wonwoo had done something he hadn’t properly completed in months: clean.

It wasn’t like he just threw out the garbage and wiped down the kitchen counter either. He legitimately cleaned, picking over his apartment with a fine-tooth comb, not allowing one coffee cup or coaster to seem even vaguely incongruous. He fluffed out the couch pillows and vacuumed the floors. He went through his entire room, tidying up piles of clothes on the floor and aligning every book on his shelf. For the first time in months, Wonwoo threw open his heavy curtains, pure sunlight engulfing the space in such a bright glare that his eyes stung and he hardly recognized his own bedroom. Most importantly, he remembered to hide the pill bottle in his nightstand.

After all the anxiety-driven cleaning was done, Wonwoo collapsed onto the couch and stared plainly at the ceiling, the reality of what he just accomplished beginning to sink into his pores.

What the fuck?

He doubted you would care even microscopically if his apartment wasn’t perfectly swept and polished and artistic like a photo from an interior design catalogue. But at the same time, it would have been impossible for him to leave it alone. The burst of productivity undoubtedly left Wonwoo rather hot and sweaty, so he opted to take a shower before you arrived. Standing beneath the cool water and taking slow, languid breaths helped ease his nerves.

And, for the first time in what he imaged to be—months, Wonwoo dried himself off with this feeling that everything was okay.

Not good. Definitely not great. But okay.

While he buttoned up a pair of blue jeans, Wonwoo heard his phone ding from his desk. Reaching over, he tapped the screen.

[ xxx-xxx-xxxx | 12:05 pm ]: hi, I’m almost there

His chest fucking lurched.

Roughly jerking open his drawer, Wonwoo pulled out the first shirt he saw, tugging the white long-sleeve over his head before he wiggled his feet into a fresh pair of socks. Once Wonwoo found his glasses, he sat on the edge of his bed with his phone.

[ Wonwoo | 12:08 pm ]: Okay.

[ Wonwoo | 12:08 pm ]: Would you like me to come down?

God—he felt like his stomach was going to collapse.

[ xxx-xxx-xxxx | 12:08 pm ]: no that’s okay :)

[ xxx-xxx-xxxx | 12:09 pm ]: it’s really pretty down here

[ xxx-xxx-xxxx | 12:12 pm]: sorry I was looking at some of the pottery / painting stuff. it’s the staircase down the hall, right?

[ xxx-xxx-xxxx | 12:12 pm ]: unit 102?

[ Wonwoo | 12:12 pm ]: Yes.

He reminded himself to breathe. Calm and slow and lifting the pressure that dug so bluntly into his lungs. The webs began to burn away. It had been a narrow escape, but it was successful.

[ xxx-xxx-xxxx | 12:13 pm ]: heyy, I’m outside

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Wonwoo walked to the front door. His fingers brushed the knob in a flash of doubt, though his mind had already committed and now the door was pulled open and you were there, just as you said.

“Well, hello.”

He nodded at you, and then gestured for you to enter.

“Where should I take off my shoes?”

“There’s good,” Wonwoo answered, pointing to a textured mat in the corner that you proceeded to leave your simplistic heels on.

How absurd was this? Never in his life would Wonwoo imagine you at his apartment of all places—the one girl whom he adamantly tried to avoid because you were his gleaming opposite, and everything that you were, certain and in control, scared him. You were gazing around with your hands politely clasped together, ignited in the fulgurant sunlight, a small smile on your mouth.

“Wow, you’re very clean.”

Wonwoo stepped after you, maintaining a shy distance.

“It doesn’t normally look this neat,” he admitted, watching you readjust the strap of your tote bag, “I did clean for you.”

You turned to face him, and your laughter filled the space with a refreshing, long lost tone that made everything brighter. His fist clenched up anxiously and he knew his cheeks were pinkening.

“Um, cleaned or power-washed?”

He merely stared at you. Why couldn’t he fucking speak?

“Jeez, don’t look so afraid. I’m joking. And I obviously appreciate the effort.” You spun back around, continuing to walk past the coffee table and toward the kitchen. “It’s a lovely place, and it’s definitely got your personal touch. Oh—this is a cute mug.”

He breathed out, unfurling his hand and stretching his fingers until the air in his knuckles popped. You began wandering in the natural direction of the bedroom, and so Wonwoo followed, his eyes drifting up the jeans that hugged your legs and your sashaying hips, to back of your delicious-smelling hair. What was that scent, anyway?

Manuka honey?

But it was just a trivial glance, really.

Nothing meaningful.

“Is this your room?” You asked, stopping at the doorframe.

“It is.”

Biting your lip, you peaked inside and started to grin.

“Do you care if I go in?”

“No.”

He tried not to crumble right there on the floor. Wonwoo’s room was his sanctuary, a fortress, something that barred out everyone but himself and granted him the freedom to do whatever he pleased (whether it was self-detrimental or not). The thought of others in his room was a gash in that perfect sanctuary, in which he could see the walls bleed out all their comfort and familiarity. His ex was the last person to be in his room, typically sprawled across the bed with a good novel in her hand.

It was a sour, sour reminder.

“Oh, and there’s the bookshelf,” you pointed out, “how fitting.” That penetrating gaze of yours roamed his desk and his bed and all his knickknacks in between. “Hey, why’s there a balcony outside?” You then asked, settling your hands onto the window frame and leaning out, the wind fluttering minimally through the layered curtains.

“Just a remodelling error,” Wonwoo explained, “it was supposed to be removed, I think. Never happened.”

Allured by curiosity, you leaned further out, examining the ladder that led up to the building’s roof. He looked at you again, specifically the arch in your back and the way your arms were planted so firm at the windowsill. He looked at the sunlight rippling on your cheek and your lips that appeared to sparkle, like you had kissed glitter.

“You definitely go up there, right?”

“Yeah.”

Half-shutting the window as to keep the breeze flowing, you chuckled. “I figured… so, I guess we should stop dawdling and get to the meat and potatoes. Is here a good spot? Or do you want to go back to the living room?”

“We’re in my room anyways,” Wonwoo commented, pulling out his desk chair and promptly sitting down, “so, why not.”

“Cool. Let me get my laptop.”

You slipped the tote bag off your arm and sat on the edge of his freshly made bed, being careful not to rumple the sheets.

“Okay!” Your hands echoed a series of soft claps. “I’m all ready now. I’ll try my best not to ramble—oh, and please, please don’t interrupt me until I’m done. I’m going to be very pissed if I lose my train of thought and I’d like this meeting to remain pleasant.”

Wonwoo nodded. “I know.”

You flashed him a brief smile.

“So, as you know, Mingyu and I’s fifth year anniversary is coming up in December. My gift to him is this so far nonexistent book. We’ve been through a lot as a couple, and as individuals, and I want the book to fully capture this journey we’ve been on and how much I… appreciate him. Also, I’m going to introduce a second, special element—” a hand plunged into your tote bag and suddenly a video camera was revealed, “—I want to record some of our brain sessions, and, like, our voyage of figuring this shit out. I like mementos. I hope that’s okay.”

“… Do I answer?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. Then, yeah. I’m okay with it.”

“Secondlyyy—” you lilted while scrolling a little ways down the notepad on your laptop, the video camera stuffed back into your flower-and-honeybee-patterned tote, “—there are a few places we’ll need to visit—not the actual places that Mingyu and I went to since we grew up nowhere near here—but places that more so have a strong resemblance to the ones in my memory. I feel like it will help me with visual aspects of the writing. I’m a very visual person. Y’know, setting up the scene and technical things like that. I like touching and feeling and seeing and breathing everything in. I want all my senses on fire, basically. Like… the way your lips feel after eating insanely hot noodles.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

Wonwoo didn’t really care. He just agreed.

“Lastly, I want to make a schedule for us. So, I’m kindly asking you to set up a schedule of your own—work shifts, doctor’s appointments, tests—the like, so I can incorporate them into my own hectic life and make us one colourful, super writing schedule.”

And then, with a big, winded sigh, you shut your laptop.

“That’s it. Done. Thoughts?”

Honestly, the entire premise didn’t sound all that terrible. He had braced himself for the worst, but you were unsurprisingly organized and had pinpointed all your desires quite clearly. Of course, he knew it was going to be sheer hell—flames up to his knees and desert sun beating on his skin like a hot skillet frying butter. You were structured and dedicated and Wonwoo was none of those things.

No doubt, Wonwoo would have to learn to deal with you.

You would either be his trigger or his pulse.

But, even worse, you would have to learn to deal with him.

“I’m just following your lead on this,” Wonwoo announced, lacklustre of much interest, resting his hands against his stomach while he rotated back and forth in the swivel chair, “whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it. How soon do you want the schedule thing?”

“Like, as soon as possible.”

“Okay.”

“Do you really have no questions?”

Wonwoo scratched the side of his head.

“Uh, have you got anything written down yet?”

“Yes,” you propped open your laptop again, “an intro.”

“Oh, really?”

“Don’t question me. It was already difficult enough to write it, and I agonized over it for hours.” You pouted, slumping slightly.

He shifted up straighter in the desk chair.

“I’m sorry. I was just wondering. It’s good you started.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

Wonwoo tilted his head at you. “Do I get to read it?”

Your feet crossed and twirled together. He didn’t think you had any nervous ticks, but that was something easy to pick up on.

“Um, not yet. Not until we officially start.”

“Okay.” He answered with a gentle voice, noticing your swaying feet still again and a bit of rigidity dissipate from your body.

Well, he didn’t really know what to do at this point. Wonwoo suspected you were constrained by more tasks for today and your time with him was limited. It’s not that you were sitting in an awkward, stifling silence, but he would rather occupy himself with something rather than nothing, because nothing left his heart to race.

“Are you hungry?” He asked.

Glancing up from the laptop, you shook your head. “I ate before I came here.”

“Are you going to be leaving soon?”

At that, your face crinkled with laughter. “Sick of me already?”

Wonwoo crossed his arms. “No. Just asking.”

“Well, I have a wax appointment soon. I’ll be leaving in ten minutes or so.” Finally, you looked up, and your eyes clicked with his in a way that made the fine hairs along his neck prickle coolly. “Does that answer your question?” A subtle grin pulled at your soft lips.

“It does, yes.”

“You don’t like having people in your room, do you?”

He huffed at the observation and delved a hand through his black hair, feeling the dampness slide against his fingers. “Not particularly.”

“You should have just said that.” Rising off his bed, you closed the laptop and shoved it back into the tote bag.

Wonwoo’s entire chest jerked. It felt like a ten-story drop.

“Are you leaving?”

“Mm, I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not intruding.”

Why did his throat close up just then? Why did his vocal cords abruptly feel so coarse and tight? Why was his heart hammering? He didn’t mean to project the wrong impression. He didn’t hate you in his room. It just felt misplaced, and new. Like picking up a puzzle piece from the box and attempting to jam it into a different puzzle.

“It’s fine. Seriously. I should be early, anyway.”

Wonwoo stood up, realizing he needed to breathe. “Um… would you like me to walk you down?”

You stopped on your way out, faced him with a pretty smile.

“That’s okay.”

But then you did something rather strange; your hand sank into his firm upper arm and suddenly you were leaning into him, so carelessly close that he could feel the fanning, light warmth of your breath against his neck. Wonwoo’s head started to spin, and he thought a cloud had enveloped the room because his vision fuzzed.

“Sorry,” you took a step back, removing your hand, “you just smell really good. Like an ocean or something. It reminds me of this beach in Puta Cana. But your hair’s all damp and fluffy so that’s probably why. That was weird. I’m sorry.” Again, you laughed.

Why the fuck did you do that? He was almost angry. But not at you. At himself. For reacting in such a giddy, stupid way. Your touch and breath had burned him and there was this sharp, cutting flare inside Wonwoo that didn’t want to let you leave.

“All good…” he mumbled, sounding groggy and slow.

“I’ll see myself out then. Bye!”

And with a final chirp, you left, the front door closing in the distance while he could only stand there, shuddering and strangely hot and beyond confused. Wonwoo moved to swing the heavy curtains shut, the entire room succumbing into its usual shadiness. He sat on the edge of his very neat bed, removed his glasses, and buckled over while rubbing his veiny, pale hands through his hair.

The feeling was so lost and suppressed to his memory.

Wonwoo didn’t even know what it was.

He was relieved you were gone, but he also wished that you were still there, leaning out his open window with the wind and sunshine in your face. It was a sight so sweet and equally intimate.

Who are you?

What are you doing in his meaningless life?

—APRIL 28TH.

Wonwoo had finished his math final with half an hour to generously spare, and now, he was sitting, bored, sketching his pencil against the last page of the thick packet. The professor wouldn’t care.

Hopefully.

On one hand, Wonwoo knew he should really just stand up and hand the damn thing in, but on the other hand, he hated—no, abhorred being the first person to return a test, especially an exam at that. Wonwoo was pretty smart. He knew that about himself and he never bothered to maintain the guise he wasn’t. Still, Wonwoo wasn’t pretentious. If he had to wait until the final fucking minute to hand the packet in, solely to avoid being the first student up, then so be it.

Besides, there wasn’t anything too pressing that required his immediate attention—minus the pertinent schedule he was supposed to make and have sent to you approximately three days ago. You had called him last night, to which the phone crackled with a loud, static bark of his name as you admonished him for his lateness.

“I told you three days ago I wanted the schedule! Three days! I can’t believe this. What’s so hard about making a schedule? Beep boop, you press some buttons on your laptop and it’s done. It would take ten minutes tops! Ugh, I’m so done with you, Wonwoo. In fact, don’t call me back—don’t even text me until you have the schedule!”

And then the line had collapsed, leaving Wonwoo to stare rather expressionlessly at his phone screen, the boy huffing out a breath of tendrilled smoke while he relaxed on the apartment roof. That had been his first experience sat on the receiving end of your seasoned quips, and it left him with this very profound emptiness, like his insides had been scooped out and the shell of his body was nothing but a wooden nesting doll. It had been such a long time since he genuinely cared about disappointing someone. Wonwoo had grown far too complacent with the feeling of disappointing himself.

That would never motivate him to do anything.

But you were different. In the sense that Wonwoo mostly remained proactive out of fear you might bite his head off.

From somewhere near the back of the room, Wonwoo heard chair legs scraping, and he eagerly flexed his fingers while observing a girl with the slickest ponytail he’d ever seen march past him to the professor’s desk. She set her packet down. He thanked her. She left.

Jesus Christ. Finally.

“All finished, Wonwoo?” His professor mumbled in a tone that hardly escaped his own lips, glancing up at the boy expectantly.

Pushing up his glasses, Wonwoo nodded.

“I suppose it’s harder for you to sit there and wait than it is to write the actual exam, isn’t it?” The professor noted with an almost undetectable smirk as he slid the test packet inside a tan-coloured folder, to which Wonwoo turned January cold.

“I don’t know.” Wonwoo shrugged, pretending to feel unbothered when in reality his skin was slithering like a snake pit at the thought of being even marginally perceived. “Maybe.”

“You have a good summer, alright?”

“Thanks. You too.”

Wonwoo swept a quick glance over the classroom right before he left, noticing that Seokmin was sat beside the wall, one hand tangled tight into his black, ruffled tresses as his pencil scribbled all over the paper like he was writing pure nonsense. He probably was.

And Wonwoo meant that in a nice-this isn’t really your sweet spot, but you’ll manage nonetheless-way. After leaving the classroom, Wonwoo thought he might go home and plunge head first into his oasis of bedsheets and flat, foam pillows that he loved so much, and permit himself to decay until it was physically impossible to lie down any longer. But he decided against it at the last minute, turning up at the café instead with his shoulder-strung book bag and the timely urge for a scone. He then sat down at his favourite table.

Pulled out his laptop.

Opened the document he was at incessant war with.

The last scene he’d written was breakfast.

“Uh, okay. Orange juice… or orange juice?”

“Did you say orange juice?”

“I did.”

“So… chocolate milk?”

“Ha! Funny... is there any sort of correlation between being a complete nerd and making such well-woven jokes?”

“Not sure. But I’ll get back to you when I find out… thanks. Your tea is sitting on the island, by the way.”

“Thank you, Won. Oh—you even put it in my Woodstock mug!”

“Yes, why are you so surprised that I remember?”

“Because it’s always hidden at the back of our cupboard, behind ten other mugs that we certainly don’t need and all our plates. I mean, I guess it’s my fault. Half of them are from my mom.”

“It’s sweet.”

“It takes up too much space. But I can’t tell her no.”

“That, you’ve got to work on.”

“The Christmas thing isn’t happening anymore, if that helps. I think the thought of having to cram all my family into our living room for a night was what motivated me the most. My mom said she’ll send us poinsettias instead. I think that’s way easier.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes. Believe it or not, I can assert myself. Sometimes.”

“No, no. I do believe you. I’m proud. Okay—bottoms up.”

“How’s the combination of venlafaxine and orange juice?”

“I don’t know. Juicy?”

“Better juicy than anxious?”

“You could say that.”

Right, back when Wonwoo actually had the willpower to make himself breakfast rather than slapping a mixed berry Poptart into the toaster or worse, nothing at all. Back when he could wake up before noon without feeling nauseous enough to curl into a ball and drape the sheets over his aching head. Back when he actually took his medicine. Her face beaming at him from across their table had always been like a glass of sunlight and citrus. She had been his own vitamin.

Wonwoo knew he wasn’t going to write. He was just going to stare and mope and ensnare himself in the pinwheel of memories that blew over him whenever he had the gall to reread his past literature.

The Woodstock mug. She’d taken that with her.

He decided it was strange and sometimes irritating how love, broken or not, could suture itself into even the most mundane things. Orange juice was just that—juice—the carton he used to pick up and impetuously drop into his grocery cart every so often. Now, it wasn’t juice at all, but slow mornings, steaming tea kettles, and reading together on the couch with legs all tangled up until lunch time.

Now, Wonwoo couldn’t drink it at all.

Breaking the lemon raspberry scone in half, Wonwoo dropped a flaky piece into his mouth before it got too cold, and then proceeded to close the document. There was no way in hell he would write, and while he loved drowning in his own misery in order to snuff any glimpse of productivity more than the average individual, he thought it might be worthwhile to finally start that schedule.

[ Wonwoo | 8:20 pm ]: schedule.pdf

[ Her | 8:56 pm ]: thanks

[ Her | 8:56 pm ]: don’t piss me off again

—APRIL 30TH.

For an April morning, it was surprisingly bright. The sun was out in full and glistering warmth by the time Wonwoo stepped onto the sidewalk and began pacing down to the park, practically needing to squint the entire way. He almost hated it. Early mornings were not his friend, nor were the blades of light cutting across his glasses. But today was his first writing session with you and Wonwoo knew it was more than crucial that he was the furthest thing from tardy—it would be akin to willingly setting his hands inside a burning fire if not.

You agreed to meet at the park since it was roughly equal distance between Wonwoo’s apartment and some breakfast place you wanted to stop at. He thought it was uncharacteristically thoughtful of you to shoot him a text asking if he wanted anything, though Wonwoo declined nonetheless. It was damn near impossible for him to eat a bite of food until lunch time, hence his expression softening in confusion when he at last climbed into the passenger seat of your sleek silver car and was greeted by you passing him a cold tea.

“Am I… holding this for you?” He wondered, sitting still.

You shook your head. “No. It’s yours.”

“I didn’t ask for anything.”

“Yes, I realize that. I can read, thank you.”

Wonwoo wasn’t going to argue. He simply shut his mouth, clicked on his seatbelt, and set the tea into the cup holder. He then began looking around at your car’s interior. Everything was exceptionally clean and smelled sugary, like iced gingerbread.

The thing was, Wonwoo still wasn’t very sure how to talk to you, and most often there was the stiffest frog in his throat whenever he sat around you in silence for too long. Your thumbs were tapping against your phone at light speed. It reminded him of how Seokmin was texting you back at the boy’s apartment when they were studying for finals. Wonwoo couldn’t help but wonder if Seokmin was naturally more inclined to respond to you out of friendship or fear. Maybe even a pinch of both if that was possible. Another quiet minute passed by.

“Okay, fuck, sorry,” you suddenly spluttered at random, quickly slotting your phone into the GPS holder, “just some shit with my mom. Um, okay. Yeah. We can get going.”

“All good," Wonwoo answered.

“You know where we’re off to?”

“Vaguely. The track by Caldwell High School.”

He watched you flit him a smile. “That’s the place. I’ll explain more once we get there. And, by the way, I am expecting you to drink that tea. It’s not anything crazy. It’s oolong. Only a bit of caffeine.”

“I drink coffee, you know.”

“Yes, and it probably makes you jittery and insufferable.”

Wonwoo preferred not to comment.

The car ride wasn’t too long. Actually, Wonwoo did love a good car ride. He remembered the long trips he used to take with his family to the water park when he was a child, the sensation of the breeze blowing into his face and how different shades of green would scatter in through the windows as the sun hit the tree leaves like emeralds. There was something so limerent and sadly distant about the memory that Wonwoo felt his chest hurt. Even if he were to take that same road, and smell the same breeze, and see his skin glow with the same hues of the forest, he doubted it would feel the same.

His mouth had gone awfully dry. Wonwoo then reached for the cold tea sitting in the cup holder and took a sip, suddenly very appreciative that you had thought to get him something, anyway.

And while he couldn’t be too certain, Wonwoo wanted to think that maybe this would be a good memory, too.

After the half-hour long car ride, Wonwoo made sure to stretch when he stepped out into the empty parking lot. It was cloudier now, a bit more of a breeze to help counteract the warmth that remained in the air. You came around to join him, twisting out a cramp in your leg while adjusting the purse over your shoulder.

The walk to the track field wasn’t long, no more than a few minutes, and Wonwoo obediently trailed at your side until he witnessed the bleachers slowly coming into view. It resurfaced memories from his own high school days in PE, which Wonwoo had actually been quite successful at despite his distaste for sports and their atmosphere in general. He remembered liking kickball the best.

You sighed in a wistful tone while staring across the marked asphalt and fresh April grass. “All high school tracks look the same, don’t they?” Then, you carefully set your purse onto the bleachers.

Wonwoo rolled his shoulders, taking a more observant look around. It wasn’t strikingly different from the track at his high school.

“Sure. I guess.”

“I mean, there are some differences. We had ditches by our track. Come to think of it, I honestly believe they put them there for kids to hurl in from heat stroke or over-exertion… that’s what I did, anyway. It was right before I had to do triple jump. I hated it because you had to really build up speed. I didn’t want to run. So, even if I hadn’t thrown up from heat stroke, I probably would’ve made myself throw up some other way. Straight to the nurse. She gave me a popsicle.”

He glanced at you sideways. “Seriously?”

“Mmhm.”

“You’d rather throw up than hop, like, three times?”

“I said it was the running part I didn’t like.”

Wonwoo couldn’t imagine purposefully making himself upchuck in order to get out of something. If his anxiety was terrible enough, then he wouldn’t even have to worry about it, really.

That was its own mechanism of disaster.

“Running is eighty-percent of Activity Days," Wonwoo said.

You clicked your tongue at him. “Exactly. And I’d do anything to never run. I tried to sit in one time with the seventh graders. They were in their art block and they were doing painting under the trees; birdhouses or something. But their teacher kicked me out. And she didn’t even let me take the fucking birdhouse that I was painting.”

“The nerve,” Wonwoo answered, scratching his temple.

He proceeded to take a seat on the metal bench, rubbing his hands together. He still didn’t know how Mingyu fit into everything.

“So… what’s your plan, here?”

You sat next to him, folding one leg over your thigh and proceeding to reveal a journal that you had stuffed inside your expensive bag. The tips of your fingers skimmed through a few fluttering pages, until you stopped on one in particular that was ink-abused with cursive scribbles. Wonwoo assumed you did most of your planning on a laptop, hence his surprise to learn that you actually used a journal. He had a journal himself, though it hadn’t been touched in months. It mostly contained small poetic excerpts.

Next, you pulled out a pen.

“This is how I first ran into Mingyu. At my school’s track field. He was new and good at all the activities. I swear, his name spread like wildfire. Anyways, I haven’t figured out all the bits and bobs. I want to really soak in the feeling of—oh!” Suddenly, you grasped the journal back onto your lap, the pen hitting the paper in a cursive ribbon that Wonwoo could hardly read. “I just thought of a great line. His eyes, I wanted to soak in them, like an oasis.”

You stabbed the paper again to make a period.

“Not bad,” Wonwoo commented.

“Okay, here it is!” A black case was pulled from your purse, and once you unzipped it, Wonwoo realized it was the video camera that you had initially shown him at his apartment. “Okay, I want you to film some stuff. The field, obviously. I need it from different perspectives. It will help me with setting the scene later on.”

“Why do I have to film it?”

“Because, Seokmin told me you’re quite handy with film equipment stuff, and I don’t want to drop it. So just do it, please?”

Accepting the video camera from your hand, Wonwoo sighed in agreement. Flipping open the side-screen of the camera, Wonwoo began clicking some buttons and adjusting the focus. Luckily, he was familiar with the particular camcorder thanks to a film education course he’d taken outside of school.

While you busied yourself at the bleachers with starting up your laptop, Wonwoo began collecting footage, slowly panning the camera across the vast length of the gravel track and the grassy soccer fields situated beyond. He kept a concentrated eye on the side-screen to ensure the lighting wouldn’t change too drastically. A wind had picked up from over the forest, and he could see how the clouds were consequently being pushed along like herded sheep in the sky.

Once he brushed back the floppy, black hair that kept tickling his face, Wonwoo lowered the camera and turned to you.

“So, where else should I film?”

You were typing something, and didn’t bother looking up.

“Go across the field. Film from the other side.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“I have to go all the way over there?”

“Yes. Walk, crawl. Skip, hop. I don’t care. Just do it, please.”

“Jesus Christ,” he huffed out, feeling tired and yearning to go home, “I hate how seriously you’re taking this, y’know that?”

Your fingers continued blitzing against the keyboard.

“Nobody likes a complainer.”

Ironic, he thought, but obviously kept to himself.

There wasn’t a point in expecting any sympathy from you—that, he already knew—which engendered Wonwoo’s long, trudging walk from one side of the track to the other, the wind irritably blowing his grown-out locks over his glasses every time he attempted sweeping them back. Hoisting the camera back up, Wonwoo adjusted the side-screen and began his same ritual of steadily panning the camera along the landscape.

You appeared in the view, still sat on the bleachers, though nothing about your face or figure was too discernible. It felt like you were a background character in a painting, just a little glob of acrylic.

“All done?”

Finally, you had glanced up at him with a smile.

Wonwoo nodded. “Unless you need anything else filmed?”

“No, that should be enough. The track is most important.”

“Right.”

He tried giving back the camera.

“Actually, do you mind keeping it?”

“Um, okay. But how will you look at the footage?

“Dropbox. We’ll share one. Upload the clips there.”

Wonwoo plopped himself back down on the bench, fitting the camcorder into its black case. He pulled the zipper along the seam.

“How much longer do we need to be here?”

“Not that much. Just let me finish this paragraph.”

There was a dull pain throbbing at the front of his skull, edging down to his temples—across his nose bridge where his glasses pressed in more tightly than usual. He closed his eyes for a moment and inhaled a deep breath, trying to escape the feeling, the nausea, the chills that were beginning to seep up his neck as the wind blew turbulently against him. It would be embarrassing if this happened here, right in front of you. The hard lump had suddenly lurched forward in Wonwoo’s throat but he leaned his head down last minute and swallowed it despite the roughness. No, everything was okay.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Wonwoo opened his eyes, staring down at the trembling hands buried in his lap. Subtly, he pulled the sleeves of his cardigan over them. He assumed his face was reflecting a sheer, sickly opacity.

“Nothing.”

“Uh, sure. Now look me in the eyes and say that.”

Again, Wonwoo swallowed, but he managed nonetheless.

“Nothing’s wrong. I get headaches sometimes. That’s all.”

“… Oh. Well, I’m basically done here. I was gonna ask if you wanted to walk a lap around the track with me, but maybe we should just go home. I mean, how bad is it? Your headache?”

Yes, yes. Home. Wonwoo wanted to go home. He had only been away from his apartment for a solid two hours, and yet all his mind and body’s energy had completely drained. He felt dried out, withered, fragile as tempered glass. Going home sounded cosmic.

“It’s getting better. I wouldn’t mind walking with you.”

“Oh! Cool. If it gets really bad, just tell me.” You then spent a minute collecting your belongings back into the cream purse.

Wonwoo immediately looked the other way, dragging a frustrated hand through his hair, mouthing a string of guttural curse words directed at his discombobulated head. Because what the hell was he doing? All his relief and peace had just suckled itself down an invisible drain. Why on earth did he agree? Why?

“I think this will help me, too," you said, having left the shiny bleachers behind, instead kicking the pebbles at your feet, “if we walk the entire track, then it’s like we did the four-hundred meter.”

“You’re supposed to run the four-hundred meter.”

“Well, I know that.”

“I’m surprised you hate running. I mean, you walk so fucking quickly sometimes.”

He heard you snort, clearly amused by his observation.

“It’s because I’ve mastered the art of sashaying. To have a perfect sashay, you can’t walk too slow, but you also can’t walk too fast. It’s like a strut. You need to have confidence while you do it. It lets people know that you’re serious and professional. I’m not dragging my feet, but I’m also not in a rush. It’s the perfect pace.”

Wonwoo sniffled and scrunched the glasses up his nose, continuing alongside you at a pace that was rather aimless.

“I didn’t realize there was a science behind sashaying.”

“Now you know,” you declared.

Wonwoo’s upper lip quirked slightly, and a small grin appeared on his face, which was starting to dapple with colour.

“I don’t sashay, do I?”

At that, you laughed, “no, you amble.”

“Yeah, I’m an ambler… which basically means I’m an unmotivated, pointless person who will probably go nowhere in life.”

For a moment, you stopped walking, and you merely furrowed your brow at him while your forehead creased with thought. Wonwoo stopped as well. He raked back his fluttering, windswept hair and smirked, flashing his teeth. The behaviour was uncharacteristically snide and a bit of a dig at your bluntness, but he couldn’t help it.

“Don’t remember, huh?”

“No… but it sounds familiar.”

“You told me that, the day I met you—that people who walk slowly are unmotivated and pointless. Their life is a waste, basically.”

He noticed your eyes shift up toward the right, as though you were pulling the memory forward from the intricate files of your brain. And then you started to smile, and it made Wonwoo smile, too.

“Oh, I do believe I said that.” You started walking again, and he followed. “Ha! Wow, you’re right. I said that. I’m so funny. I mean, I was right. You only walk slow when you have nowhere to be.”

“I did have somewhere to be. I was going to meet you.”

“Well, then you just didn’t care.” He felt your elbow press shallowly into his rib. “See what I mean? Unmotivated and pointless. And, honestly, I would have taken your apathy as more of an insult if it wasn’t for the fact that you seem to treat most things like that.”

“So, I’m just supposed to accept that you’re calling me a loser? How do people normally react when you say things like that?”

“Things like what? They’re just my observations about the world. You are a person in this world. I was making an observation about you. Albeit, it came across strongly. But I don’t know. No one ever cared about being gentle or sugar-coating with me. Gives you tough skin, y’know? Metaphorically, of course! I always moisturize.”

Wonwoo scoffed, smiling at your nonchalance. “The way you word things is honestly fascinating.”

“Psh. How do you even remember that?”

“I don’t know. Doesn’t seem that hard to remember. It was a pretty memorable, somewhat awful experience, to be fair.”

“Awful?” You retaliated in unprecedented disbelief, pushing into his arm until he allowed his tall frame to stumble. “Try again.”

“Interesting?” Wonwoo substituted, his heart thumping.

Your eyes were narrowed at him, glimmering with a sharpness that made his fingers clench into anxious fists.

“… That’s a little better.”

He exhaled a soft breath of relief.

As you began nearing the full circle, Wonwoo realized his head had eased from its horrible aching and the chills dampening down his neck were gone. Everything didn’t feel as awful compared to before. He was still tired, and his energy was sputtering in tiny, dying sparks, but at least his desire to crawl under the earth and degrade to his bare bones had subsided into something less morose.

“I heard you were having a get together next week,” Wonwoo decided to ask, rounding the last bend in the track.

“Oh, the dinner party?”

“Yeah. Seokmin’s helping you plan it, right?”

“He is. Which I appreciate. My mom is usually the one in charge of everything, and she loathes it. But, I mean, when we try to help her, she just ends up fretting even more—says we’re basically getting in the way and ruining it. I don’t know. She’s such a snappy perfectionist. Seokmin can have fun dealing with that.”

Wonwoo almost made a thoughtless comment in response to your story—he’s probably had eons of practice with you—though the pieces connected just in time and his mouth sealed shut.

“Your dad can’t help either?” He questioned instead.

“Ha! No way. My dad helping is a recipe for fucking disaster if I’ve ever seen it. He’s painfully bad at decorating, can hardly be trusted to cook or invite anyone from the guest list. The most my mom allows him to do is set the table.” You then scoffed, shooting a pebble forward with the tip of your shoe. “I swear, he knows exactly how to push my mom’s buttons. The faster he does it, the quicker she kicks him out and he’s absolved of all chores. What a cheat, huh?”

“Hm, yeah… is Mingyu going?”

“Of course.” You smiled. “He always goes.”

At that point, you had circled back to the bleachers. Adjusting the bag strewn over your shoulder, you heaved out a longing sigh.

“Well, that’s four-hundred meters in the books.”

“Is it everything you hoped and dreamed it would be?”

You cackled, “not even close. I think I was right to avoid it.”

—MAY 3RD.

Wonwoo slid his pharmacy badge through the time-machine until he heard the beep. After an eight-hour shift, he was hungry and tired, but Wonwoo also knew the second that he got home, his urge to eat and desire to sleep would be gone. Instead, he would spend his midnight staring up at the ceiling, thinking. About anything and everything, and nothing at all. When the first cracks of dawn light would spill in from under his curtain, then he would close his eyes.

It was all very typical.

He stood outside the store, phone in hand, waiting for Vernon to pick him up because Wonwoo hadn’t felt like walking home despite the softness of the nighttime wind and the alabaster moon’s shining ambiance. The mirage was pretty and he enjoyed it, but his feet were too sore to inch him another step. Luckily, Vernon didn’t take long.

Luckily, he was the only one of Wonwoo’s few friends with a sleep schedule just as horridly fucked up as his. It was eleven at night, but on a weekday? The dead, empty street testified for him.

“Heyy, Glasses,” Vernon sang in his throaty voice as Wonwoo climbed into the passenger seat, “you look like a prostitute standin’ there, waitin’ for me to come get your ass. But a sophisticated one.”

The interior didn’t smell heavily of weed, he noted. Thank fucking god, Vernon had finally paid someone to dry clean it. Either that, or he took the initiative into his own hands.

“I highly doubt you have ever seen a prostitute in your entire life. And the fact you think they’d be standing outside a pharmacy at one of the quietest parts on this block attests to that.”

“God, I hate when you get all technical n’ shit. Such a stiff.”

“I’m tired.”

“Yeah, well. You’re always tired. N’ for the record, I have seen a prostitute, outside Room 319. It was a week before Christmas; she had this huge coat on, walkin�� up to people in her pink heels and this crazy eyeshadow that made her eyes pop. I bet she’s a nice girl.”

“Mhm. I bet she was.”

“Oh, you’re a cunt, yeah? You don’t believe me.”

“Does it matter?”

“I’ll take you one day. Room 319’s got a table with your name on it. They’ve got this one shot, the Stabilizer— it’ll put you down like a fuckin’ sick dog but it gets you the best drunk of your life. Maybe we’ll even run into Pink Heels lady. She’s our Halley’s Comet.”

“Halley’s Comet only comes once every seventy-five years. “

“You know what the fuck I meant.”

“Not interested.”

Vernon blinked at him for a moment in the dull light, and then he sighed, forfeiting. He placed the tip of the key in the ignition, but he quickly removed it as though he remembered something.

“Wait, I’ve gotta ask—how’s it going with Her?”

Biting down on the inside of his cheek, Wonwoo reached for the seatbelt and pulled it slowly across his chest, debating how intelligent of an idea it would be to entertain Vernon’s curiosity. But he could also understand the allure. You were like this enigmatic myth that people craved to know about, even if it frightened them.

Wonwoo’s head collapsed back against the seat.

“It’s going well.”

Vernon spat out a boisterous laugh, a hand slapping down on his knee. “Jesus Christ. You’re so dry, man. That’s it?”

“I mean, it’s true. We’ve started the book. Or, she has.”

“Okay, and?” Vernon attempted to engage him further.

“And, what?”

“What’s she like, obviously? Is she actually a fuckin’ psychopath? Is she normal? Can she walk on her hands? I dunno!”

Wonwoo rubbed underneath his glasses. He didn’t really want to talk about you when you weren’t there. It felt like a Bloody Mary situation, where you’d magically conjure in the backseat to sinch your cold hands around his neck and wrangle him limp and lifeless. But then there were Vernon’s shimmeringly prying eyes that just wouldn’t stop burning Wonwoo no matter how hard he bit his tongue.

“I have nothing to say. She’s cool.”

“Oh my fuckin’ God.” Vernon slacked back into his seat, clutching at his steering wheel. “You just don’t wanna talk about it… oh! Shit. I just remembered. She’s having a dinner party tonight, isn’t she? In Hill Crest. Or as I like to call it, Rich People Neighbourhood.”

“Yeah, that’s where her parents live… how do you know that?”

“Shit!” Vernon immediately shuffled up in his seat and delivered a hard smack into Wonwoo’s shoulder. “We should drive down and check it out! Right fuckin’ now!” He was lit up with excitement, even though Wonwoo considered it a terrible idea.

“No. Absolutely not. And answer my question.”

“Was sittin’ behind Seokmin at Solar Pop, he talks really loud, happened to overhear some things—doesn’t matter. I think we should go! C’mon, allow some spontaneity into your life! Why not?”

“What the fuck do you mean, why? It’s a family party. With some close friends, which—in case you haven’t noticed—neither of us are. You can’t fucking crash a family dinner party. Who does that? Not to mention the fact that it's eleven at night. They're probably washing up. Sending people home. By the time we get there, it's lights out."

“Aren’t you her friend?”

“No. I’m just someone who’s doing her a favour.”

“Favours are from friends.”

“We’re. Not. Friends.”

“Okay—fuck, Glasses. Fine. We won’t crash the stupid dinner party. But don’t you wanna go for a drive or something? I’m tellin’ you, the houses are insane. Last time I went down there, it was for a big fuckin’ party some dude at your university threw. I think I ran this by you already, when I talked about tryin’ to chat up Her. I stopped by with my old friend—y’know, Dots, the guy that died from the overdose and everything. That party was crazy. It was in a mansion.”

“Vernon,” Wonwoo had just finished massaging the throbs at his warm temples, “we are not going to Hill Crest.”

His friend swung his head in disapproval, making a tsking sound with his teeth. “Such a fuckin’ stiff.” He started the car. “It’s the fact I know you have jack shit to do tonight, or tomorrow.”

“I’m not gonna do some stalker drive-by on her house.”

“You don’t wanna do Room 319. You don’t wanna judge a bunch of richies sittin’ up in their ivory towers. I mean, it’s not like we’re eggin’ them or spray painting fuckin’ curse words on their eight-door garages. What do you wanna do?”

Wonwoo rolled down the window and leaned his face toward the moonlight, to which he could feel the wind brush up against his skin in feathery strokes, as though it were caressing him. He knew that Vernon meant in a general sense rather than in the heat of the moment. But in a general sense, Wonwoo would rather not be anywhere at all. He would rather do nothing, or even exist.

“Can you just take me home? Please?”

Vernon exhaled a defeated gust of breath and began to angle his tires away from the curb, the pharmacy lights pulled behind them.

“Yeah, ‘course. Mr. Boring.”

—01:49

Wonwoo hadn’t been able to fall asleep since Vernon dropped him off a couple hours ago. He’d anticipated that. Usually, Wonwoo wouldn’t do anything. He wouldn’t toss or turn, or pace circles around his bedroom, or count down from one-hundred, because even if he did, none of it would work. His mind would still be wide awake.

Hence Wonwoo’s decision to grab his phone. Staring at a lurid screen definitely wasn’t going to help, though he wasn’t trying to sleep, anyway. That conversation with Vernon was repeating in his head like a chattering bird, pushing him, pushing him, pushing him to find your Instagram and dig into your pictures because now Wonwoo was thinking of your dinner party and how vehemently you seemed to hate it. He saw that you had posted something quite recently, around the same time Wonwoo had left the pharmacy.

For a moment, his thumb hovered over the post.

He didn’t want to press it because he didn’t care.

Or, maybe he did.

There were multiple pictures in the set, and Wonwoo flicked through all of them. Some were of food, close-ups of your jewelry—you even included a picture with Seokmin. But then Wonwoo had settled on the last photo and something in his stomach convulsed.

He recognized the dress like a flash of light—the sapphire one with the glimmering detail that you had modelled for him at the expensive boutique in the mall. Of course, that arm hanging cheekily low around your hip belonged to your boyfriend, Mingyu. He had a champagne glass pressed to his lips, fitted in his black suit with his hair neatly combed and styled into place. The smugness in his face was stifling. Wonwoo rolled onto his stomach, his eyes refusing to drift from the picture for even an instant. He just kept staring.

Staring and thinking. Staring and thinking.

One minute spent staring at your smile.

The next minute at the low placement of Mingyu’s hand.

Another minute staring at your sparkling dress.

The next minute at Mingyu’s brutally cocky expression.

He would switch back and forth.

But Wonwoo didn’t really care. He was just bored.

And alone with his thoughts.

—END OF PART PART ONE.

NOTE! while i truly cherish & adore all comments, pls refrain from remarks such as "pls post part x" "i need part x" "when are you posting part x" while i do understand the sentiment, i find these comments very dismissive & kinda disrespectful! i don't prefer to post series fics and so i don't receive these often, but pls note that if you comment this i will delete the comment!

the fic itself is completely done, so all i have to do is get the parts ready for posting. however, bc this is the first part, i don't have a set posting schedule just yet. i think it will depend on roughly how long those who read the fic take to finish it! but i will be sure to make a post about it or include the schedule in part two once i figure it out!

again, thank u so much your ur patience :3

much luv!! 💕

#seventeen scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen x reader #wonwoo x reader #svt x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #wonwoo fanfic #svt fanfic #jeon wonwoo #svt scenarios #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen smut

1K notes · View notes

themultifanshipper · 7 months ago

Text

This was supposed to be a silly little blurb about giving Seb a blowjob, I don’t know how it got this out of hand.

Warnings: all of them. All the warnings.

Jk but there is sooo much in this fic. A bit of underage (but over 16), blowjobs, oral, p in v sex, rawdogging, rough sex, possessive Seb, a tad of subspace?, threesomes (if you don't want spoilers on the special guests don't look in the tags), voyeurism, undernegotiated dom/sub dynamics all over the place, infidelity (his IRL wife is included), smidge of angst but it’s really not the point of the fic lmao, mention of drugs and alcohol, I don’t condone anything I’ve written here guys. Although the warnings make it sound worse than it is tbh.

July 2007

I suppose you could say it all started when you were 13 and Sebastian had just been transferred to Toro Rosso.

Obviously nothing happened between you two given that he himself was 20 years old at the time. Although your childish crush on him had started way before that.

No, what happened at 13 was an embarrassing moment that got the ball rolling between you and Seb.

That night he was over at your parents’ house for a celebratory meal, for you, it was your birthday, for Sebastian Vettel, it was the beginning of a long and illustrious career.

Your father and him were good friends, Seb helped a lot with your brother's career in karting and you’d always been around the handsome blonde man. At various karting events with your brother, a gala here and there, and even at a couple of f1 races he had driven for BMW. By this time your crush was well and truly established, and subtlety not being your thing, your family knew all about it. And teased you relentlessly. And apparently now invited your crush to your birthday dinner... great.

Seb and your father were in the kitchen having a drink and helping your mother with the food when you heard your fathers voice drifting through the house.

“Man, think of all the blowies you’re gonna get!”

After a sharp scolding from your mother, the two burst out laughing and that was that. But the damage had been done.

At 13 years old, you had no idea what that meant. So you asked, at dinner, in front of your family, and your crush, what a blowie was.

Yeah, that went down well (pun intended, and note the sarcasm).

Your (15 year old) brother choked on his mouthful and shrieked in laughter, spraying your mother, who then slapped your father who was laughing maniacally beside her. Seb just went incredibly red and grinned “You’ll find out when you’re older, sunshine”

Okay, maybe the nickname should also be explained, after all it is the result of a previous embarrassing moment of your childhood.

It was at a karting track before a race and you were hanging out with your brother, some of his friends, and Seb. Or more accurately, you were following Seb around like a lost puppy. At this point you were 9, your brother 11 and Seb 16.

Someone had heard a dirty joke from the older boys at the track that went something like this:

“What is big, makes no noise, yet wakes us up every morning?”

And with your very innocent, very smart 9 year old brain you replied “the sunshine” which was supposed to be the right answer, but boys will be boys.

16 year old Seb thought that answer was hilarious.

“That is so adorable” he was wheezing “from now on I am calling you sunshine”

You were so embarrassed at not understanding the joke that you ran back to your father and told him about it, and he told the boys off sternly.

So anyway, there you were, a few years later, at dinner with your parents reliving that in your head, and living through yet another mortifying moment in front of Seb, who looked at you sympathetically from across the table, and kept sending you winks all throughout the evening, to try and make you feel better.

That night you looked up “blowie” online (of course a few days later the browser history conversation happened with your mother) and you were never the same again. You couldn’t stop imagining Seb getting blowjobs from all the girls he was indeed going to get, and it gnawed at you. For years. Of course, you knew you were too young for him, but it didn’t stop the fantasies from getting rather... wild.

2010

You were 16, and Sebastian was about to win his first championship, you were sure of it. You were all in Abu Dhabi to support him (and the others of course) and you found yourself wandering into his drivers’ room just as he was putting his fireproofs on. You had expected his girlfriend Hanna to attend, but luckily for you she was busy, and you were going to make the most of that fact. You ogled his body for a second before he noticed you staring and grinned at you as he put his top on.

“There’s my sunshine!” You jumped into his arms like you’d done so many times before. “I was wondering if I’d get to see you before the race”

‘Of course! I'd consider myself a bad friend if I didn’t come to wish you good luck”

He put you down and dramatically threw himself on the sofa.

“Yeah! I’m going to need it”

“Oh, come on Seb I’m sure you’ll do great” You sat down next to him and put your hand on his knee, squeezing slightly. “If you want... I could give you a good luck present” you slid your hand slowly up his thigh and his leg jolted slightly “If you know what I mean”.

He glanced at your hand before looking back into your eyes, you could tell his mind was racing, obviously going in the right direction. “No, I don’t know what you mean” He gulped as your hand went higher and you batted your eyelashes at him.

“You know, I’m not the innocent kid who didn’t know what a blowie was anymore, I’ve learned a lot since then”.

Seb’s pupils were wide, and you could feel his fireproofs tenting under your hand. “I could show you if you’d like”.

You squeezed his cock over the fabric, and he grabbed your hand “Fuck sunshine, I can’t let you do this, you’re sixteen for fuck’s sake”

“Don’t act like you don’t fuck girls on the daily, Seb” You jumped up off the sofa and into his lap, straddling him.

“Yes, but I’ve known you since you were a baby, and you’re still a minor, Fuck-” Your hand had slithered its way into his fireproofs and was squeezing around him like a vice.

“I’m past the age of consent, Seb, you know that. And I know you’ve thought about it. About me. You’re not as quiet as you think you are when you come round to our house, you know.” You trailed sloppy kisses down his neck and chest, over his fireproofs as your hands got rid of the bottom half.

“Shit, aaah-” He hissed, and his resolve crumbled under your touch. “Fuck”

“Please Seb, please let me suck your cock for good luck” You purred, and he let his hands grip onto your hair as you nosed up the length of his now exposed cock.

He was staring into your eyes, guilt written all over his face as he nibbled nervously on his lip. “Fuck, sunshine what are you doing to me”.

Instead of answering, you took half of him into your mouth and sucked. He cried out and bucked his hips involuntarily, making you choke slightly.

“Shit sorry!” His concern was adorable, but unnecessary.

“Don’t worry Sebby, I trained myself out of a gag reflex, just for you” and before he could say anything else you sank down on him to the base and the noise he let out was inhuman. His head fell back, and his eyes rolled into his skull.

Yeah, you’d definitely been practising. And you were unbelievable.

He did end up winning the race, and the championship. And you grinned at him when he looked down at you from the podium, shaking his head and laughing before almost getting drowned in champagne by Lewis and Jenson.

2011

The next year you showed up in his driver’ room at the Japanese Grand prix, per his request. You knew this was the race that would potentially secure him his second championship win so you strutted in, pushed him onto his little bed in the corner and kissed him senseless as your hands started undressing him immediately.

“Tell me, Seb-” You got his shirt open and trailed kisses down his chest. “Do you think you’re capable of winning the championship on your own this year?” Off went his trousers “Orrrr…” then went his underwear “Would you like a blowie, for good luck?” You grinned at him, mouth hovering inches away from his rapidly hardening cock.

He grinned back at you, slightly breathless. “I think-” he sat up and pulled you in for a quick kiss “you can never say no to a good blowie”. He lay back down, arms behind his head, and that was all you needed to get to work.

He did in fact win the race, and the championship.

You couldn’t make it to Abu Dhabi however, and he got a puncture on the first lap.

Figures.

2012

You celebrated your 18th birthday with Sebastian, one on one. He took you out to dinner during the summer break. You had finally finished school and were moving on to other things. You had no idea what those things would be, but you were excited none the less. He’d managed to convince Hanna he was on a business trip to meet a sponsor, but you didn’t think for a second that she bought any of it.

Sebastian told you all about the intense race for the Championship, given you weren’t able to attend any of the races before the summer. He had apparently taken to relieving stress by fucking anything that moved, and that included some of the other drivers. You couldn’t help but imagine him being bent over his massage table, reduced to a begging mess by his teammate. Everything Seb told you about Mark got you riled up before dessert had even been served, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that was his goal all along.

When you got back to his hotel, the real birthday celebration started. And it lasted all bloody night.

All the things Seb had thought about doing to you since the very first time you’d asked what a blowie was, he did to you that night. All the tension accumulated over the years finally boiled over, as he brought you over the edge so many times you lost count, with his mouth, his hands, his cock. He was going to ruin you for anyone else.

“Nobody can have you like this, can they?”

“No Seb just you- Fuck!” You panted as he pounded into you from behind, pressing you against the massive hotel windows, facing the city lights.

It was almost romantic. Almost.

“You think anyone can see you from down there? All those people that don’t know how good you’re being for me.” The thought of being seen made you even wetter and you whined. He only chuckled.

“I’m sure if Mark were walking past, he would love to know what is happening up here. Would you like that? Would you like Webber to watch you come undone on my cock?”

You didn’t even need to answer, you cried out in pure extasy as you came for the umpteenth time that night and then slumped against the cool glass. The only thing holding you up being Seb’s arm around your waist and his other one propping your leg up as he trapped you against the window, grinding into you as he came inside you with a groan.

“Well sunshine, I guess that’s a ‘yes’ then, hmm?” He whispered in your ear before pecking you on the cheek. He lifted you up, carried you to the bed and went to get a cloth to clean you up with.

You giggled when he came back “You know Seb, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re so obsessed with Mark that you want to show me off to him. Is it because you want him to approve of me? Or be jealous? Or do you just want to flaunt your amazing skills in bed that I’m suuure are better than his?” You were obviously just trying to rile him up.

He laughed dryly as he wiped you down but didn’t reply. Perhaps you’d struck a nerve. He didn’t mention Mark for a long time after that.

You couldn’t make the race in COTA, so it was critical for you to be at Interlagos with Seb. You got a plane ticket several days before and gave him a good luck blowjob every single night, for good measure.

He won, of course.

2013

2013 got real weird, real quick.

For starters, you were 19 with no job and no idea what you were going to do with your life, but you spent all your time around older millionaire formula 1 drivers. You were basically an honorary member of the team by now and had a free paddock pass for every race you could attend.

Then, there was the issue of Seb living with his girlfriend, so you couldn’t stay at his place anymore, and in the rare instances where you and Hanna saw each other, the other drivers became exceptionally awkward around the both of you.

The last thing was, Mark didn’t win a single race all season, and Seb was a huge dick about it. He strutted around Mark in the paddock like a peacock. And he took you to every other GP to fuck you in his drivers’ room when he knew Mark could hear you from next door, just to drive him crazy.

It all came to a head in India. The race that secured Seb his fourth consecutive championship.

He was fucking you in his drivers’ room (more like railing the absolute shit out of you) on the long sofa that lined the wall. Face down, ass up, you were being loud, no longer caring about Mark hearing you.

Then, his phone started buzzing, Mark’s name flashed across the screen, along with an unflattering photo.

Seb answered it, put him on speaker and set the phone down next to your head.

“Would you two keep it down, the whole bloody garage can hear you!” Mark hissed.

“Yeah?” Seb answered “Hear that, sunshine? Everyone can hear how good I’m fucking you” His hips kept slapping against yours obscenely.

You moaned and Mark scoffed “Sounds like she’s faking Sebby, I guess those championships must be compensating for something...”

“Why don’t you come in here and say that to my face then Webber” Seb spat before hanging up.

You gasped as he grabbed your hair and pounded into you harder. “Seb! What-”

“You like having an audience, admit it.” He growled “You’d like nothing more than if Webber stormed in here and-”

He hadn’t even finished his sentence before Mark did just that. He was standing at the door, flushed, as if he’d sprinted over.

You turned your head to look at him but before you could say anything, Seb slowed down to a hard grind inside you, making your eyes roll back and you let out a shaky moan.

Mark’s eyes were scanning you and Seb, checking you both out. And obviously enjoying the view if the tent that was forming in his fireproofs was any indication.

From his angle he could see where Seb’s cock was buried inside you, where you were literally dripping down your thighs and onto the sofa and he let out a gasp. “Fuck Seb, she’s so wet”

“I guess she’s not faking then” Seb said smugly, picking up the pace again.

A lack of response from Mark prompted Seb to sigh and beckon him over.

“Don’t just stand there, come sit down, this will take a while”.

“What?” Utterly fucked out, you twisted your upper body to look at him, the confusion on your face matching Mark’s.

Seb smirked at you. “We’re going to play a little game, okay sunshine? I’m going to make you feel good, and Mark is going to watch. But you cannot come until he does, understand?”

Your jaw dropped, and he gave a hard thrust. “Understand, baby?” He repeated and you nodded quickly.

He turned to Mark “Well? You don’t want to be the reason she can't come, do you? Get to work.”

“Shit” Mark looked half murderous, half ridiculously turned on as he slowly lowered his suit and freed himself, starting to work his dry hand up and down his cock slowly and Seb chuckled “Put you hand out”.

Mark did as he was told, confused, and he almost combusted on the spot as you spat on his hand.

“Wow, she’s such a good girl, isn’t she?”

Seb groaned, as if Mark was talking to him. The older man’s presence was finally getting to him.

Mark’s hand inched towards your face, but Seb slapped it away. “No touching, she is mine”.

You tightened around him, about to come when he abruptly pulled out. You whined and squirmed as your orgasm faded, but he just shushed you and turned you over onto your back roughly, almost knocking the wind out of you. “Shhh baby, remember the rules?” He was rubbing your hips soothingly as he spoke “Mark has to come first, I’m not the one you should be begging”.

You turned to the other man.

“Please Mark, please, please come. I need to come so bad, Mark, please, fuck I need it...” You were almost babbling at this point, and Mark melted.

Sebastian swiftly slid back into you as Mark’s hand picked up the pace on his own cock, glancing at your writhing body and at Seb. You tightened around him as you felt yourself get closer to the edge again. The two men were grunting and looking straight at each other as they moved, almost as if they were trying to get each other off. Their weird power play was tipping back and forth, and you were caught in the middle. Not that you were complaining.

Mark came all over himself and you felt Seb throbbing inside you as he started rubbing your clit to get you off faster, the sight of his teammate was affecting his self-control, and he was getting closer by the second. You came together, and he slumped over you, his legs and arms giving out.

Mark was panting and you looked at each other, having a silent conversation while Seb was recovering. He got up to go and get cleaned up in the small adjacent bathroom.

While he was gone, you stroked up and down Seb’s back and whispered in his ear “You okay, Seb?”

He sniffled into your neck before replying “Yes, I’m just a bit overwhelmed.” He lifted his head to kiss you before flashing you his signature grin. “I’m a four-time formula 1 world champion!”

The two of you giggled and he dropped his head back down and sighed contentedly, planting lazy kisses on your shoulder.

Mark came out of the bathroom and laughed silently at Sebastian behind his back. You scowled and the two of you argued with your eyes again. ‘Congratulate him you prick!’ Your eyes said. He rolled his before walking up to your entangled bodies and put a hand on Seb’s shoulder, making the younger man shiver. “Congrats on the title, mate. But there’s a few races left, I could still beat you.”

Seb snorted “Sure, if you say so. Now you can fuck off”.

You smirked at Mark, and he slinked out of the room without another word.

Well needless to say he did not beat Sebastian. And he promptly retired.

2014

It was a shit year for Redbull, Seb DNF’d in Australia, Monaco, and Austria. He didn’t win a single race, but his new teammate Daniel did, and that was a sore subject. You lost count of the amount of pity blowjobs you gave him that year. He came to visit you often to lift his spirits, but you could always tell the season wasn’t going great, and it was taking a toll on him.

The one good thing to come out of that season was that you travelled around with him a lot, Hanna not being particularly interested in attending races. He was certainly rich enough to pay for your flights and hotels (not that you needed separate rooms most of the time).

You were the first person to know about his transfer to Ferrari. And you were both very excited about it. New team, new start, hopefully new championship wins.

Unbeknownst to you however, Seb had added an extra condition when he negotiated his new contract...

2015

During winter break, just before Christmas, Seb came to see you in at your parents’ house. That’s how you found out that he had gotten you a job at Ferrari, as part of his contract.

You were elated. It meant you would be around each other a lot more, and you could start pulling your own weight, feeling a little guilty that Seb had sort of been your sugar daddy for the past few years, not that he minded of course. And it also meant no more sneaking around and avoiding cameras at races to not alert Hanna to your presence at Seb’s side most of the time, not that it was really a secret anymore, you two weren’t discreet around the other drivers, and the drivers were all fucking each other as well anyway so no one cared.

As tradition dictated, you gave Seb an obligatory blowie to celebrate his Ferrari contract and your new job. And then, your parents being out of town, you had wild passionate nasty sex on every surface, as you wouldn’t be seeing each other for a few months, until the season started.

Needless to say, there would be no Championship win celebration blow job in Abu Dhabi, that year.

2017

It was your 3rd year working on the media team at Ferrari. It was a blast, you were severely overpaid, and you got to spend most of your time with the man you were having intimate relations with. Who could ask for more?

In Silverstone, Seb made a bet with Kimi. They were high (not on adrenaline, just high) and decided to wager on who would finish on top in the race. Kimi got a podium while Seb only got p7, but Kimi not being a man with a huge imagination, he had no idea what favour he wanted. So, it dragged on for months, until one day you were filming a promo video in Singapore with them, and his mind suddenly came up with the answer.

“Her” He pointed at you from across the room. Seb feigned innocence, pretending not to know what Kimi was inferring.

“What about her?” he asked tentatively.

Kimi smirked devilishly. “I want her. For the bet, you know. I want to watch you. To see how disappointing you are in bed”

He was only teasing, but he knew exactly how to get under Seb’s skin. So he agreed, and he asked you, and you agreed. Great. Kimi Räikkönen was going to watch you have sex, no biggie. After all, you’d done it before with Mark, this would be fine.

After a frustrating double DNF, you all went out to karaoke. You didn’t think Kimi was the type, but he showed up to the bar already three sheets to the wind, so you figured he wasn’t really there for the singing anyway.

Kimi was giving you sultry looks all night, which sent shivers down your spine. You’d never considered the man to be the epitome of hotness, but you couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to spend a night with Kimi. Was he passionate? Or was he just as ice cold as always?

You would soon find out as the three of you piled into a taxi back to the hotel, both Seb and Kimi’s wandering hands distracting you from trying to give the driver the address.

On the way, you’d ended up with Seb’s mouth on you neck and Kimi’s hand up your skirt, gently teasing you over the pathetic peace of fabric you called underwear.

By the time you were up into someone’s room, who’s room it was was impossible to say, your senses were engulfed by the two men. Kimi was behind you, trailing his mouth over your neck and shoulders and holding you up, while Seb was on his knees between your legs, one of them hooked over his shoulder, tongue eagerly working itself over your needy pussy as his fingers worked over that special spot deep inside you.

You came like that, then Seb stood back up and asked, “How was that, sunshine?”

You scoffed in disbelief at the question “It was amazing as always, baby. Are you going to fuck me now?”

He raised his eyebrows at Kimi, like ‘disappointing huh? I think not’ then pointed to the chair in the corner to signal to Kimi to sit in it, and led you over to the bed and put you on all fours.

He was halfway through railing you into next week, one hand holding your arms behind your back and the other around your neck, when Kimi piped up from the cuck chair.

“Can I come on her tits?”

Seb paused mid thrust and you whined “What do you think, sunshine? You want him to come all over your pretty tits, baby?”

“Yes, Seb, anything just keep going please!” You begged, but he didn’t move.

“Ah, ah, sunshine, be a good girl and tell Kimi what you want him to do to you”.

You huffed and looked at Kimi, who was observing you with hooded eyes and his mouth slightly open as he pumped his cock leisurely, waiting for an answer.

“Yes Kimi, please come all over my tits, I’ll be a good girl for you”.

The two men groaned in unison, and Seb picked up the pace again. He wasn’t going to last long, and neither were you, so he flipped you over onto your back and slid back into you quickly, beckoning Kimi over. He circled your clit expertly and you both came together fairly quicly, while Kimi watched and pumped his cock furiously, not far off as well.

“Go on then Kimi, give it to me” you gasped, sticking your tongue out for him, and that was it for the Finnish man.

He came in spurts over your chest, face, and mouth as he let out a shaky groan, finishing himself off before finding his pants and leaving with a simple “You two looked good” and winked at you. Truly a man of many words.

You and Seb laughed together, the adrenaline coming down as you both cleaned up and snuggled up under the covers.

“Weirdly, that wasn’t horrible” You giggled, and Seb acquiesced.

“You know, I think I like sharing you.” Seb kissed your temple, and you hummed, sleep almost taking you before he added “How do you feel about David Coulthard?”

You gasped and slapped his shoulder lightly “Oh my god he’s ancient!” and Seb scoffed, offended but let it go, sleep overtaking you both.

But he didn’t forget.

2019

All Sebastian could talk about for months was the eager twink Ferrari had dumped in his lap. So of course you had to have a taste. Or rather...

“My goodness Charles, you have got to taste her”.

Charles looked at you for permission before diving in. Even though he was younger than you, he obviously had experience as he brought you to the edge in no time. He got you wet and shaking before Seb had even finished taking his clothes off. You gasped as the waves of pleasure washed over you and Charles continued his assault on your weeping pussy. Seb only yanked him up by the hair after your second orgasm, and he looked absolutely wrecked. Face covered in your wetness, lips swollen, and eyes completely glazed over. Sebastian leaned in close to speak softly in his ear, making the younger man shiver.

“You want to fuck her Charlie? You want to fill her up properly while I fuck her pretty little mouth?” He said, while maintaining eye contact with you. Charles nodded a bit too enthusiastically and you both laughed at him.

Lucky for you, Charles’ cock was thick, and he stretched you out wonderfully while Sebastian fucked gently into your mouth. You were on your hands and knees, shaking through your 3rd orgasm when Charles finally came inside you, filling you to the brim.

While he cleaned himself up in the hotel bathroom, Seb turned you over onto your back and slipped inside you with ease. He started a maddeningly slow rhythm as he wrapped his arms around you possessively, and you tried to cling onto him, but your arms were useless at this point.

When Charles came back out, Seb didn’t even look at him as he told him he could go, so he didn’t push his luck and scarpered.

“Only I can have you like this” you preened under his touch, his hands gliding over your body, pinching your skin, and then soothing it as you went completely mad underneath him.

“Please Seb” You babbled mindlessly “I’ll be good, please, please just- “. Your eyes closed of their own volition and your head rolled to the side, losing all motor skills as he continued hitting that spot deep inside you. He grabbed your jaw and made you look back at him “You’re mine, aren’t you? Only I can make you beg like this, right sunshine?”

You wailed as you came around him, your final orgasm of the night taking its toll on you, rendering you completely boneless. And you didn’t move at all while he slipped out and got up to get you cleaned up. And you barely registered the bed shifting as settled under the covers with you, holding you gently, like you were the most precious thing in his world.

That year, Seb got married to his childhood sweetheart.

2022

The next time you saw him outside of the paddock was at his retirement party. The whole grid was there, plus his family, his friends, your family, and a bunch of other people. And his wife.

It was a proper retirement bash, and most people were at least tipsy within an hour of their arrival, Seb insisting on everyone getting shit faced to celebrate.

You snuck up to his bedroom and sat on the bed. You sighed longingly, it was surely the last time you would get to do this.

Seb came up a few minutes after you, after making sure someone was occupying Hanna.

He opened you up on his fingers, mouth mapping out your body, as if trying to imprint the feeling of it on his tongue. Once he slid inside you, it took you both an embarrassingly short amount of time to reach your peaks, but you did so together, your foreheads pressed together, breathing in each other’s air, hands scrambling for purchase on each other’s bodies. Then staying wrapped in each other’s arms for far longer than was necessary.

It was bittersweet. The end of an era.

Once you were both decent, you went back down and ensured that only good memories would be had of this party, lighting up the dance floor, lighting up the bar (you made flaming cocktails, which someone *cough*Charles*cough* spilled on the bar), all the while laughing, and crying a bit, with some of Seb’s soon to be ex-fellow drivers.

Epilogue:

It was Suzuka 2023, and you’d been waiting for this moment for months.

Seb’s bee house project was great for the bees and all, but it was even better for you.

The evening of his arrival at the paddock, you were buzzing (pun intended) with excitement.

When you spotted him, you shrieked, scaring a couple of engineers nearby, and ran towards him. It was a bit unprofessional given that you were still very much an FIA employee, but you couldn’t help it, you jumped into his waiting arms, like you’d done so many times before, and squeezed the life out of him.

“Sunshine!” Seb smiled as he lowered you back down.

“Old man!” You said and he rolled his eyes.

“I’m not that old”

“You’re retired, and I have work to do!” you said, as you started walking away.

“Doesn’t mean I’m old, means I had a successful career!” he shouted at your retreating figure.

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, Grandpa!”

Cut to a few hours later in his hotel room.

“Are you sure it’s okay for old people to get blowies?” You mocked as you got down on your knees between Sebastian’s legs “Like, you’re not going to have a heart attack are you?”

“I think.” He gripped your hair, bringing your mouth to his cock.

“You can never say no to a good blowie”.

The end.

#my thots #sebastian thots #f1 #formula 1 #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel smut #sebastian vettel x reader #sv5 #charles leclerc #mark webber #kimi raikkonen

777 notes · View notes

goldfades · 1 year ago

Text

✮ 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 (𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐬), trevor zegras

♡ ─ word count | 16.3k words (y'all asked for it!)

♡ ─ summary | trevor had always hated your guts. you never knew what for, maybe it was your close friendship with his best friend, or maybe it was because he was jealous of you. that was until, he kissed you, of course.

♡ ─ warnings | very much unedited (i don't got time for that🙅🏻‍♀️) enemies to fwb, alex being collateral LMAO, more plot than smut, unprotected sex (p in v), fingering (lots of it), so much fighting and arguing, usual enemies to lovers stuff, cursing and maybe some other things?? as always lmk if i missed anything

♡ ─ taglist | @dancerbailey3 @valluvsu @daisysnhl @dasiysthings @iminlovewithtz11 @literatureluster @lvrzegras @lxvleyzoe

♡ ─ ev's notes | the long awaited trevor zegras fwb fic i've been teasing for the past 4 months, it's finally here. i finally got the motivation to finish and here we are, i hope it exceeds y'alls expectations!!! also if yall couldn't tell i didn't know what to title this but whatever, live laugh love! anyways, this isn't exactly 'canon' (my god... can't believe i just used that for a hockey fic im dead) because i know alex/trevor do not live together but for the sake of the fic, live with it. anyways, this is just brainrot for the part, but i hope you enjoy this incredibly self indulgent fic!!!!!!!! love you all mwah mwah mwah

also... requests are open for now if y'all wanna send in some ideas!!

The first moment that Trevor locked eyes with you, he knew he didn't like you.

You never understood why. You couldn't help but wonder what had caused such an immediate dislike. Was it something about your appearance, your demeanor, or just a gut feeling he couldn't shake? Whatever it was, it hung between you two like an invisible barrier, making the atmosphere uncomfortable whenever you two were in the room and it was even harder because you shared a best friend.

You walked into the familiar home of your close friend, Alex and tried to find him. You had left your airpods there a few nights ago and this was the only time you knew he'd be home.

Well, apparently you were wrong because he wasn't anywhere to be found even though his car was clearly in the driveway.

"Alex? Are you here?" You quietly called out, there was no response, so you ventured further into the house, your footsteps echoing in the silence.

Determined to find both your airpods and an explanation for the eerie quiet, you walked further into the house. Each step echoed through the hallway as you walked.

As you turned in the hallway, you let out a loud yelp when you bumped into someone. Someone who clearly wasn't Alex.

"Jesus!" You jumped in fright and calmed down for a second once you recognized the face. "Trevor? What are you doing here?”

Trevor's expression remained as annoyed as ever, though there was a flicker of surprise in his eyes as well. "I could ask you the same thing," Trevor replied, his voice cool and measured. His arms were crossed, and he leaned casually against the hallway wall, as if he had every right to be here.

You tried to stay calm even though his arrogance, as usual, was pissing you off. "I came to pick up my airpods because I left them here a few nights ago, and Alex said he'd be home today."

Trevor rolled his eyes in annoyance as he leaned off the wall and walked closer to you. "Well he isn't here, is he?"

You wanted to slap that stupid know-it-all expression right off his face as he walked past you. You turned around and scoffed, "And why are you here?"

He turned around and looked you directly in the eye. "I'm staying with Alex for a bit." He said simply as he examined your annoyed expression. "What? You have a problem with that, princess?" The nickname rolled off his tongue and you felt your body heat up with anger.

Trevor's use of the nickname "princess" sent a surge of anger coursing through you. You could feel your face flush, and your fists involuntarily clenched at your sides. He knew exactly which buttons to push, and it was infuriating.

"Don't call me that," you snapped, your voice tinged with irritation. "And yes, Trevor, I do have a problem with it. You've made it pretty clear you don't like me, and I sure as hell don't like you either. This is supposed to be Alex's place, and now I have to deal with you too? Just great."

Trevor's smirk seemed to grow wider, as if your anger was exactly what he wanted. "Well, princess," he taunted, emphasizing the nickname, "I don’t care about how you feel about me staying here so… I don’t know what to tell you.”

With that, you turned on your heel and stormed out of the house, leaving Trevor and your airpods behind. Your heart was still pounding with anger as you made your way down the driveway.

──

"I don't know why he hates me, Alex." You complained through the phone as you got ready for a party. It was Friday night you wanted to get absolutely wrecked after the week you've had.

"He doesn't hate you, Y/N-"

He was cut off by a scoff as you put on your makeup. "Are you seriously trying to say that he likes me?"

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Alex let out a reluctant sigh. "Okay, maybe 'like' is a strong word, but I don't think he hates you either. He's just... Trevor, you know?"

You rolled your eyes at the mention of Trevor's name. "Yeah, 'just Trevor' is the problem. Every time we're in the same room, it's like he's actively looking for reasons to annoy me."

"That's just Trevor, though." Alex tried to reassure you but he was plain wrong. The Trevor that everyone else knew was funny and sweet, and what do you get? An absolute fucking asshole whose sole purpose to annoy the hell out of you.

Alex's attempt at reassurance didn't help at all, you couldn't help but let out a frustrated sigh. "I don't know, Alex. It's just hard to believe it's just Trevor when he acts different when I'm not around, you know?"

You could hear the sympathy in Alex's voice as he responded, "I get it, Y/N. But maybe there's more to it than meets the eye. Sometimes people have their reasons for acting a certain way."

He sounded like a dad lecturing their kid as you let out another sigh. But you had to admit there was some truth to it, though.

"Look," Alex continued, "I'll talk to him, okay? Maybe he doesn't even realize how much he's getting under your skin. And besides, it's Friday night. Let's focus on having a good time at the party and worry about Trevor another day, alright?"

You couldn't help but smile at Alex's support. "Yeah, I guess you're right Alex. Fine, I won't think about him anymore but I'll see you at the party."

With renewed semi-determination to enjoy the evening, you said your goodbyes and finished getting ready for the party, hoping that this night out would provide the much-needed break you deserved.

──

The loud music of the party made your head buzz but it was exactly what you needed after the week you've had. The loud atmosphere, with people dancing and laughing, created a welcome distraction from your problems.

You grabbed a drink and joined your friends who were currently sitting outside, enjoying the warm summer weather. As you settled into a chair, you felt a sense of relief wash over you. The cool breeze and the sounds of laughter around you were a soothing contrast to the intensity of the party inside.

"You good, Y/N?" You heard your friend laugh next to you as a smile engulfed your face. The alcohol was already working as you let out a giggle and a nod.

And just as you finally got the buzz, it quickly faded as you heard his voice behind you.

"Yeah, you good, Y/N?" The mocking tone in the voice was unmistakable as you turned to see Trevor taking a seat across from you. Alex followed closely, sitting down next to Trevor.

"Hey, Y/N." Alex gave you a soft smile but his eyes were pleading with you to not start anything now.

"Yeah, I'm good," you replied, your voice carrying a tinge of annoyance. You then turned your attention to Alex, who offered a soft smile but communicated his silent plea for you to avoid riling Trevor up.

Trevor, seemingly unable to resist provoking you, leaned in closer. "So, Y/N, having a good time? Or is the buzz from all that alcohol making you forget how much you can't stand me?"

You clenched your jaw, your patience wearing thin. "Oh I haven't forgotten, trust me. Trevor, can't you just for once not be a complete dick?"

He chuckled, clearly enjoying the rise he was getting out of you. "Oh, come on, Y/N, where's your sense of humor? It's just a party."

That last line really made your anger flare up even more. The irritation in your voice apparent as you retorted, "You know, Trevor, you seem to have a real talent for ruining a good time."

Trevor smirked, seemingly unfazed by your comment. "Oh, really? I thought I was just making it more interesting."

Your friends were exchanging glances before Alex shifted uncomfortably in his seat, sensing the growing tension. He tried to intervene, "Come on, guys, let's not—"

But you weren't in the mood to back down. "Interesting, huh? More like insufferable."

Trevor leaned in, his tone mocking. "Is that so? You don't have to stick around if you can't handle it, princess."

The nickname made your temper grow, as you shot back, "I can handle it just fine, and you can't tell me what to do, I'll stick around if I want, Trevor."

Trevor's smirk remained firmly in place as he replied, "Well, well, someone's got some fight in them tonight."

Alex, growing concerned about the direction of the conversation, spoke up again, his voice pleading, "Come on, guys, can we please just have a good time tonight? This isn't the place for this."

But your anger at Trevor's provocation was hard to contain, and you answered, "Maybe Trevor should learn to behave himself."

Trevor, not one to let a challenge go unanswered, leaned in closer and said, "Or maybe you should learn to take a joke, princess-"

The word "princess" coming from Trevor's lips felt like a taunt you couldn't let slide. "Don't call me that!"

Alex, sensing the situation escalating, pleaded once more, "Hey, Y/N let's go get some drinks and relax, okay?"

But Trevor wasn't backing down, his smirk darkening. "Oh, of course Alex would step in now. You gonna go get some drinks with your boyfriend, huh?"

His accusation left you stunned as you blinked back at him, but then it clicked in your mind. Trevor's animosity seemed to be fueled by jealousy, and you couldn't help but laugh in disbelief. Trevor's face twisted with annoyance at your reaction.

"Oh! I get it now," you exclaimed, a hint of amusement in your voice. "You're jealous of me!"

Trevor's annoyance only seemed to intensify, but he maintained his stubborn stance. "You wish, princess."

Your realization had struck a nerve, and you decided to tease him further. "You think I'm gonna steal Alex from you, isn't that right, Trevor?"

Trevor's face contorted with a mix of irritation and embarrassment as your words hit home. It seemed like you had touched a nerve that he hadn't expected.

"Don't be ridiculous," he snapped, his tone laced with irritation. "I'm not jealous, and you're definitely not stealing Alex from anyone."

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, thoroughly enjoying the fact that you had gotten under his skin for once. "Oh, come on, Trevor," you teased, leaning in a little closer to him. "You don't need to be jealous. There's enough of Alex to go around for both of us."

Trevor's irritation deepened, and he leaned in closer, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, how sweet of you, Y/N. You're absolutely right; I'm sure Alex is just thrilled to have both of us fighting for his attention."

Your teasing had clearly struck a nerve, and you couldn't resist pushing the envelope a bit further. "Well, you know what they say, Trevor, 'Two's company, three's a party.'"

Trevor's face turned a deeper shade of red, and his fists clenched involuntarily. He struggled to find a retort as he seethed with frustration. "I couldn't care less about your little friendship with Alex. You're not even on my radar."

Your playful smile didn't waver as you pressed on, pushing his buttons even further. "Oh, Trevor, it's cute how you're trying so hard to convince us of that. But we all know actions speak louder than words."

Alex, sensing that Trevor was on the brink of losing his temper, interjected urgently, "Guys, seriously, let's drop it."

But it was too late. Trevor had reached his breaking point. He slammed his hand on the table, making the glasses rattle, and his voice rose to a furious level.

"Is it impossible for you to shut the fuck up, Y/N? I've had enough of your mind games and your twisted need to be the center of attention," he seethed, his eyes burning with anger.

He got up from the couch and walked to face you, his eyes burning into yours. "I couldn't care less about your friendship with Alex or anything else about you. Just do us all a favor and stay the fuck out of my way."

As Trevor walked away, he made sure to deliver a sharp shoulder bump, leaving you standing there, feeling a mix of shock and anger. The tension between you and Trevor had reached a boiling point, and it was clear that this confrontation had taken a toll on your already strained relationship.

──

A few weeks had passed since the night at the party, and you and Trevor's interactions had become less confrontational, bordering on civil. One night, you found yourself alone in Alex's house. He had gone out for the night, leaving you and Trevor in an awkward, but not entirely unfamiliar, situation. You spend most if not all your time in his house, even if you did have your own. You just always liked his more than yours, even if Trevor had decided to start living there as well. The home was eerily quiet, except for the soft hum of the city outside.

Trevor had been in the living room, watching TV while you were in the kitchen, going through the contents of the fridge trying to find a snack. You had been trying to avoid him, but the small space between the kitchen and living room made it impossible to do so that long.

As you reached for a container of leftovers, Trevor's voice suddenly cut through the silence. "Y/N, can you pass me the remote?"

You sighed inwardly, feeling a wave of frustration wash over you. Suppressing your irritation, you handed him the remote and muttered, "Here."

But as Trevor took the remote from your hand, his fingers brushed against yours, sending a jolt of unexpected electricity through you. You both froze, locked in an moment of eye contact.

Trevor suddenly broke the eye contact and your face felt hot. You wanted to slap yourself, there was no way a two second hand-brush made you feel this way. What was wrong with you? Were you ovulating?

Trevor's voice broke the silence, low and intense. "You know, Y/N, you can be stupidly frustrating."

Your inner thoughts were interrupted by Trevor's comment, and his words only served to amplify the tension in the room. You could feel your heart pounding, and a mix of irritation and desire swirled within you.

You also couldn't get any words out and you felt even more stupid. Trevor noticed your silence and moved his gaze back to you, a smug expression etching his face. It was as if he had achieved a small victory, and he couldn't resist the opportunity to revel in it.

A sly grin tugged at the corner of his lips, and he leaned in slightly closer, his eyes dancing with a mix of amusement and desire. "Cat got your tongue, Y/N?" he teased, his voice dripping with cocky self-assurance.

Your cheeks burned with a mixture of embarrassment and frustration, and you cursed yourself for letting him get the upper hand. Trevor had a weird ability to push your buttons, and in this moment, he had successfully left you flustered and at a loss for words.

You scoffed, finally getting out of the trance he somehow got you in. "N-no, I just couldn't think of... anything worth saying."

Trevor's cocky grin only widened at your stammered response. He leaned in even closer, his breath tickling your ear as he continued to revel in his perceived victory.

"Nothing worth saying, huh?" he replied, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "Well, Y/N, maybe you'll come up with something better next time."

His words made you roll your eyes as you gritted your teeth, determined not to let Trevor's cocky attitude get the best of you. You felt yourself getting even angrier as you stared at Trevor but you couldn't come up with anything to say, he has the upperhand and he knew it. You wanted to slap yourself again, you were acting dumb.

The front door had opened suddenly and you let out a relieved sigh when you heard Alex's voice ring through the apartment. The sound of Alex's voice was like a lifeline, breaking the tension that had gripped the room between you and Trevor.

"Hey, guys, I brought WingStop... Did I interrupt something?" Alex looked slightly concerned as he looked at you two.

Relieved to have a reason to shift your focus, you gave Alex a grateful smile and replied, "You didn't interrupt anything important, just the usual Trevor bullshit."

Trevor, who had been reveling in his victory moments ago, now seemed to deflate slightly at the mention of his antics being dismissed as "bullshit." He decided to play it cool, though, adding, "Yeah, bullshit."

Alex seemed to buy the explanation, though there was a hint of skepticism in his expression. "Alright, if you say so," he replied, setting the bags of WingStop on the table. "Let's eat, I'm starving. Then maybe we can watch a movie or something."

You fixed your posture as Trevor walked up from the couch, a smirk still evident on his face as he walked to the table.

"Actually guys, I have stuff to do tomorrow morning." You grabbed your purse from the couch, you didn't wanna be around Trevor right now after what the hell happened earlier. You needed to sort out a lot of stuff in your mind.

"Like what?" Alex sat down in the table, immediately taking out the wings and beginning to eat. "Are you... okay?"

"Yup, just tired."

Trevor's smirk seemed to widen, and you could practically feel his satisfaction. It was clear that he had achieved some victory in the earlier situation, and now he had the upper hand.

Alex, who had been happily digging into the wings, looked up with a curious expression as you grabbed your purse. "Y/N, are you sure you're okay?"

You managed a small smile and a nod, though you couldn't meet his eyes. "Yeah, just got some things to take care of. You guys enjoy the wings and the movie. I'll see you guys whenever."

With that, you hurried out of Alex's apartment, leaving behind the now weird tension between you and Trevor. As you made your way down the hallway, you couldn't help but replay the intense moment with Trevor in your mind, the mix of attraction and irritation still simmering within you.

"What'd you do, Z?" Alex gave him a glare before Trevor raised his arms up in defense.

"Nothing, I swear," he insisted, though his tone was tinged with amusement. "This time, it was all her."

Alex's glare deepened, clearly not entirely convinced by Trevor's explanation. He was well aware of the dynamics between you and Trevor and knew that things could easily escalate between the two of you.

"What do you mean, 'it was all her'?" Alex prodded further, determined to get to the bottom of the situation.

Trevor leaned back in his chair, his expression growing more relaxed. "Well, let's just say she couldn't handle a little teasing, and things got... interesting."

Alex's skepticism was replaced with a amused expression, and he couldn't help but chuckle. "What the hell do you mean, interesting? You and your teasing, Trevor. You're like a walking powder keg."

Trevor grinned, seemingly pleased with Alex's reaction. "What can I say? It keeps life entertaining for us.”

──

A few days had passed since the weird encounter between you and Trevor at Alex's apartment. The memory of that night still lingered in your mind, and you couldn't help but feel hot when you thought about it. The tension between you and Trevor remained unresolved.

One evening, Alex decided to host a small party with a few friends at his house. It was meant to be a relaxed evening of drinks and conversation, a chance to unwind and catch up. As you arrived at Alex's house, you were greeted by familiar faces and warm smiles.

You got up from your spot on the couch and entered the kitchen to get a drink. Thankfully, Trevor was still at practice so you hadn't ran into him yet. As you reached for the beer that inside the fridge, you heard Alex's voice from behind you.

"You sure you wanna be drinking tonight? You have a ride?" Alex's concerned voice made you smile and you got the beer while closing the fridge.

"Yeah, why not? I could always Uber if all of you guys are going to be drinking." Truth be told, this week wasn't exactly your week. After that whole encounter with Trevor, it had all just went downhill. You needed this, you needed a night where you could just forget about everything. And Alex's get-together did exactly that.

Alex eyed you suspiciously. "What happened with Trevor Monday night?"

You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "Nothing, promise."

"Did you guys kiss or something-"

"No!" You said, almost a little too loudly. A smirk grew on Alex's mouth as you repeated a little quieter, "No, what makes you say that?"

"I don't know, there was just a different kinda tension when I came into the apartment then." He smirked at you as you rolled your eyes, despite the warm blush coming onto your cheeks.

"Shut up,"

Before Alex could continue, Trevor entered the kitchen, his exhaustion evident in his posture. You hadn't even realized he was back home; his arrival had been drowned out by the sounds in the apartment.

He walked right up to and cleared his throat. "Excuse me, you're blocking the fridge."

You bit your tongue at his lack of manners and moved away, Trevor opening the fridge as he grabbed a water. Alex gestured to the living room and you nodded, deciding to leave the kitchen to go hang out with the rest of your friends.

As Trevor walked out to the group a few minutes after you two, you could sense his irritation with the number of people in the apartment. He muttered something to Alex about the crowded space, and you couldn't help but overhear. Trevor's annoyance was evident in his voice as he complained, "There are way too many people here, man. It's like a sardine can."

"Well I told you I was gonna be havin' a few people here tonight, Z." Alex responded calmly but irritation was clear in his face.

"This is way more than a just a few people, dude. How am I supposed to relax after the shittiest practice with a bunch of people here?"

Alex looked annoyed and he just ignored Trevor, looking back at you. But you decided to speak up, not willing to let Trevor's negativity ruin the night. "Trevor, this is Alex's place, and he's doing you a favor by letting you stay here. You can't expect him to control who comes over. It's not just your apartment."

Trevor's irritation flared as he turned to you, his voice laced with frustration. "Oh, of course, the princess coming to Alex's defense. Always looking out for Alex, aren't you?"

“I'm just trying to keep the peace, Trevor. It's not about taking sides. We're all here to have a good time and you're kind of ruining it."

Trevor was glaring daggers at you, his gaze filled animosity as he looked between you and Alex.

The tension in the room was palpable, and your friends were growing increasingly uncomfortable with the heated exchange. Alex tried to intervene, saying, "Okay, let's not ruin the night with this. Trevor, relax. Y/N, thanks for looking out for me, but it's all good."

But Trevor's anger hadn't simmered down. Instead, he seemed to become more agitated, muttering something under his breath that you couldn't quite catch as he huffed and walked off to his room.

With Trevor's mood affecting the atmosphere of the party, you felt the need to step outside for some fresh air. You just couldn't comprehend Trevor. One moment, he was finally okay with you then he wanted to be an absolute dick. It always bothered you, why did he have to be such an asshole?

You were soon joined by Alex, who had sensed your discomfort and followed you outside. Alex leaned against the poll, gazing out into the night, and you stood beside him. He sighed, and you could tell he was trying to defuse this whole situation.

"Sorry about that," he said, his voice filled with concern. "Trevor's just been having a rough time lately. Practice has been pretty shitty, and it's taking a toll on him. I know he can be a pain, but he's going through a lot right now. I mean, he's worked all his life for hockey and sometimes it just doesn't give the same energy back, you know?"

As you listened to Alex as he opened up about Trevor's struggles with his hockey career, you were suddenly hit with guilty about blowing up on him. The weight of your argument with Trevor and the realization of the pressures he was under made you feel bad for earlier. Alex's words had painted a different picture of Trevor's situation, one that you hadn't fully grasped. You knew that being a pro-hockey player was demanding, and setbacks could be demoralizing.

"I didn't realize he was going through all of this," you admitted, a sense of regret in your voice. "I feel bad for being a bitch now. I should've been more understanding." You sighed. You may hate Trevor but you never wanted to add his stress, knowing how hard it is when something you put so much energy in, doesn't feel so rewarding in the end.

Alex gave you a reassuring pat on the back. "Hey, don't blame yourself, Y/N. He was being an ass first and uh... thank you for defending me. I appreciate it."

You smiled at Alex's words, appreciating his understanding and grateful that he didn't hold your heated defense against Trevor against you. As you looked at him, those words felt like they had a deeper meaning than he was letting on. "Thanks, Alex. You're a true friend, ya know that?”

As you and Alex walked back to the living room, you noticed that some of the people were already in the process of saying their goodbyes and putting on their jackets. It seemed that the argument between you, Trevor, and the general tension in the room had prompted an early night for some of your friends.

"We're gonna call it a night, guys." Your friend smiled politely. "Trevor should get some sleep."

Before you could protest, Alex gave them a quick goodbye. "Yeah, they're right. He needs time to relax."

With that, they made their way to the door, leaving you, Alex, and Trevor in the home. The atmosphere in the room had shifted, and the tension from earlier still lingered. It was clear that the night hadn't gone as planned, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease.

You felt guilty about the entire thing, and the weight of your words hung heavy in your mind, replaying that moment. If only you had kept your mouth shut, none of this would have happened. The ongoing tension between you and Trevor had been a rollercoaster of emotions, and sometimes, you wished you wouldn't be so impulsive.

You couldn't help but wonder if you were too quick to react, too willing to engage in these heated exchanges with Trevor. The realization that your words might have pushed him away further gnawed at your thoughts.

You were torn between wanting to apologize and your ego. Nevertheless, as you stood in the living room, your conscience pushed you to take responsibility for your actions.

You glanced at Alex, who was busy cleaning up the remnants of the party. He seemed to be trying to maintain a positive attitude (per usual) despite the earlier disagreement. It was then that you decided you needed to make amends.

Quietly, you excused yourself from the living room and headed down the hallway to Trevor's bedroom. You felt determined as you knocked softly on the door, waiting for his response.

"Alex?" You heard Trevor's voice from behind the door. "It's fine dude, I forgive you. But ya owe me a beer next time we go out."

"Trevor? It's actually me."

There was silence for a couple seconds before you heard the bedroom unlock; and there he was, with all his glory. He was shirtless, his hair was wet and it was obvious he had just come out of the shower. The only thing he had were those slutty sweatpants, god damnit.

You couldn't help but stare a little longer at his body before finally maintaining your composure. You couldn't deny, he looked good shirtless. You squeezed your thighs together as you maintained eye-contact with him, trying to keep your composure.

"What?" Trevor's voice sounded annoyed, per usual.

You found yourself lost in a trance again, your words momentarily escaping you as you tried to gather your thoughts and confront his anger. What was up with you and not knowing how to deal with hot men?

With Trevor's anger emanating off him in waves, you forced yourself to snap out of your momentary daze. "I'm sorry," you began, your voice quiet but sincere. "I didn't mean for things to get involved like that. I know practice has been rough for you, and I shouldn't have added to your stress. It's just... I hate seeing you so worked up."

Trevor's expression remained stony, and his arms were crossed, a clear sign of his lingering irritation. "Well, you certainly didn't help."

You sighed, knowing you had to take responsibility for your part in the argument. "You're right, I shouldn't have let things escalate. But you have to understand, I was just trying to help Alex."

The anger in Trevor's eyes didn't dissipate, but there was a hint of maybe something else. "Help him with what?" He scoffed as he walked into his room, sighing angrily as you followed, your patience running out.

With a deep breath, you decided be honest with Trevor. "He told me about your struggles at practice. About how it's been hard on you. I didn't mean to throw fuel in the fire but I was just worried about both of you. I may not... like you but I don't wanna push you while you're down, y'know?"

Trevor's jaw tightened, his annoyance evident. "So, you're just meddling in my business now? Trying to be the savior?"

That was his response? Now you really wished you had gone with your ego. Your frustration flared, and you shot back, "I'm not trying to be anyone's savior. I just wanted to help, I hate seeing you two fight, and I wanted to defuse the situation. I thought I was doing the right thing."

Trevor ran a hand through his wet hair, seemingly torn between anger and something else. "Well, you didn't, Y/N. You made things worse."

In response to Trevor's accusation, your own anger flared up. "I'm trying to help, Trevor. I don't need you to be a dick about it."

Trevor's voice seethed with frustration as he fired back, "Maybe you shouldn't, Y/N! I didn't ask for your help, and I sure as fuck don't need it. You're always butting in where you don't belong."

Your anger flared, and you shot back with equal intensity, "Oh, I'm 'butting in'? You're so damn proud, Trevor, you can't accept help from anyone! You act like you're above everyone, like you're untouchable."

Trevor's eyes blazed with fury as he retorted, "You think you're so perfect, always trying to fix everything. Well, you can't fix everyone, Y/N."

"I wasn't trying to fucking fix you, Trevor, who do you think I am?!" You shouted back, anger evident in your voice and expression. You couldn't even comprehend his point of view.

Trevor's eyes blazed with anger as he took a step closer, close enough you could feel his warm and minty breath on your forehead as you looked up at him. "You think you know everything, don't you? Always playing the peacemaker, always trying to fix everything. Well, guess what, Y/N? Some things can't be fixed."

The room felt like it was on the brink of a hurricane, the air charged with anger and resentment. Trevor's chest heaved with frustration, his intense gaze locked onto yours. In a low and seething voice, he muttered, "This is pointless."

You clenched your jaw, mirroring his anger as you responded, "Fine, it is."

You both stared at each other, breathlessly. It almost felt intimidate as you gazed into each other's eyes and you could see Trevor's expression relax.

"Why are you always defending Alex?" His voice was still angry but it sounded slightly hurt, underlying... jealousy? You were confused, what did he mean by that?

Your anger had subsided, and you met Trevor's question with genuine confusion, your voice softer than before. "What do you mean, defending Alex?"

Trevor scoffed, his usual snarky self was back on. "You're like his damn lawyer or something, you always have his back. It's fucking exhausting, he's my best friend."

You understood this whole issue now. "I know he's your best friend. I get that, okay? I'm not trying to steal him from you, he's your best friend and I get that-"

"It's not about that!" He raised his voice, frustrated. He sighed as he shook his face, staring back you. You were confused as you stared back at him. As his gaze suddenly softened, it clicked.

He wasn't jealous of you, he was jealous of Alex. It seemed to have clicked in Trevor's head too, his deep blue eyes gazing deeply into yours. And before you knew it, his lips clashed into yours. You kissed him back, moaning into the roughness of the kiss.

He didn't give you any time to adjust to any of it, he hand laced around your neck, pulling you closer to his mouth. His tongue quickly invaded your mouth, exploring everything.

He broke the kiss for a second, looking into your eyes for confirmation. "Y/N?"

You couldn't even form any words, that kiss, even though it had lasted mere seconds felt like a breath of fresh air. You couldn't even form words anymore, your brain had become mush. God damnit, the fucking spell this man had you under.

A smirk stretched Trevor's face as he stared into your lustful eyes, he couldn't help it. He pulled you into another quick kiss before pushing you down on to the bed and quickly followed on top of you, as the bed squeaked under you and Trevor's weight. His hand rose from your neck to your face, gripping it harshly as he squeezed.

"You run your mouth all day long and now you can't say a single word." The smirk was still evident on his face, he looked proud as he stared down at you. "And all I had to do was kiss you stupid, huh?"

"Trevor," you whimpered out. You couldn't even think straight but you did feel stupid, how could one kiss make you feel this way?

"What?" He sounded annoyed but you could tell he was enjoying having control over you. "What do you need, princess?"

You hadn't heard that irritating nickname in a while and usually, you would get mad. But this time, the nickname went right down to your pussy. You let out a soft moan at that, as he squeezed your face again.

"Thought you hated that, princess? Hmm? You like it now?" Trevor moved closer to you, planting a sloppy kiss on your mouth. His hand moved back to your neck, holding you in place. "I asked you a question, can you answer it for me or did I already break you?" His smirk grew at the last statement, the idea of breaking you made his cock grow a little harder.

You felt it, too. Right on your stomach too, which made you squirm under his weight. "Trevor, please."

"Trevor, please. What?" He mocked you, making you sigh exasperatingly. He rocked his hips against your stomach unexpectedly, making you let out a shocked moan.

"Fuck, Trevor."

"You need me to fuck you, huh?"

That was definitely not what you meant, but you'll take it. "Yes, please. I need you, please."

"Hm, so polite. You really are a princess huh, pretty girl?" He brought his other hand to move your hair out of your face, so he could so you better. He cupped your cheek next, grabbing your face before kissing you again.

Trevor got off of you, lying next to you. You were confused and were about to protest until he placed his hand right on your stomach, making you go still. He then sat up, pulling your shorts right off, your underwear next.

You felt self-conscious until you saw Trevor's face. You could tell now, Trevor was the one in the trance, he looked like he was in awe. He then moved his hands to your shirt, discarding it along with your pants.

He placed his hand right on top of your stomach and you felt yourself get even hotter from his touch. He moved his hand lower and cupped your bare cunt, you let out a breath. Trevor looked focused as he started moving his hand against your cunt, making you whimper.

He moved his hand then inserted a finger, making you shiver. You were surprised at the sudden pressure and let out a small gasp. Trevor smirked from next to you, as he began to thrust his finger in and out of you.

You couldn't let out any words, only pathetic sounds. The thought of Alex being in the next room was quickly disregarded as Trevor began to quicken his speed, making your whole body feel like it's been lit on fire.

Your back arched at the new feeling, your head suddenly felt like you were on a roller coaster, you were dizzy on his single finger. The tight sensation began to form in your stomach and you were breathing heavily, losing yourself in the feeling. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Right as you were about to cum, his finger left your wet cunt. You let out a cry of displease as you looked up at Trevor, a smirk evident on his face. "I want you to cum on my cock, understand princess?"

You let out a whimper of agreement. You weren't thinking straight at the moment, all you could think of is finally cumming and cumming on Trevor's dick.

Before you knew it, Trevor was on top of you. He took out his hard cock out of his pants, his expression changing to one of desperation and lust. His eyebrows were knitted in concentration, as he gave his cock a few pumps. His cock was already leaking of pre-cum as he slowly inserted himself in you.

Now, this was a new sensation. You couldn't help but arch at the feeling. If you thought you couldn't get any more drunk on Trevor, you were completely fucking wrong. His dick felt unreal, even if he was only a quarter inside of you. You moved your hand to grip his arm, trying to settle yourself.

He bottomed you out as quick as he could, you felt filled to the brim in the best way. The sensation burned as he stretched you out, it had been a while since you'd been intimate with anyone. It felt so good, your mouth hung open as Trevor put his hands on your hips.

"Fuck, baby you feel so good." He groaned in your ear as you let out a small string of whimpers. Trevor felt light-headed from how good you felt; so warm, so tight, so wet, your pussy was made for him.

He began rocking his hips against yours, thrusting in and out of you. You began moaning, not being able to hold it back. Trevor's hand immediately clasped your mouth to shut up, "Shh, princess. Gotta be quiet."

Trevor was having a problem staying quiet too, desperate sounds leaving his moans as he kept thrusting into and out of your core. He moved one of his hand up to grip your throat. The added sensation made a knot form in your sensation, you were close.

You started bucking your hips to meet his own, causing a new rhythm. You gripped the sheets as you felt yourself come closer to the climax. "Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum." You rambled in Trevor's ear, whimpering.

"Fuck me too baby, hold on." He choked out. Your pussy sucked him in so well, making it harder for him to even breath. His thoughts were consumed completely of how good he was feeling right now. "Let's cum together, kay?"

All you could do was nod as you couldn't even comprehend anything that was happening expect the fact you needed to cum, that knot was so closing to snapping. You felt your heartbeat race as the bed creaked underneath you two.

The knot was so thin, so close. And it snapped almost immediately as Trevor started rubbing your clit along with his harsh thrusts. "Fuck!" You cried out. You let out a breath of utter bliss as Trevor soon came undone inside of you.

As Trevor came, he immediately came down from the high and he realized exactly what had happened. He had just fucked the girl he swore up and down he would never ever like. And the worst part was he wasn't even mad about it.

──

"Y/N?" Alex repeats as you finally zone back again. You were at a brunch with Alex after a few days without seeing him. Which also meant it had been a few days since you had seen Trevor, giving you a lot of clarity about exactly what had happened.

"Yep, yep. I'm listening, sorry. I have a caffeine headache." You replied softly as you looked down at your plate, taking a bite of your food.

Alex wasn't convinced though as he looked at you, clearly trying to read you. He knew something was up with you ever since the party but he couldn't piece it together, thankfully. He still doesn't know that you and Trevor hooked up that night.

"What's been up with you?" He asked, concern etched across his face as he probed for answers.

"Sorry, it's just been a long week," you reply, attempting to divert his attention. You take a sip of your coffee, hoping the caffeine would kick in and help you shake off the residual effects of the headache.

Alex leans back in his chair, eyeing you with concern. "You sure that's all it is? You've been kind of... distant for past couple days."

"Yeah, just school and work stuff, you know?" you reply vaguely, avoiding eye contact.

He narrows his eyes, clearly not buying your explanation. "Come on, Y/N, we've been friends for how long? I can tell when something's bothering you. Talk to me, please."

You let out a sigh, realizing that Alex's persistence might not be easy to deflect. "Okay, fine. It's just... things have been a bit hectic lately. School and work have been piling up, you know?" Another lie. But you couldn't risk Alex finding out anything, you were scared of his reaction. It had already changed the entire dynamic between you and Trevor, you surely didn't want it to change yours and Alex's.

Alex's expression softens as he bought your white lie, and he nods understandingly. "Yeah, life can be a lot sometimes. But you know you can always talk to me, right?"

"I appreciate that. It's just been a bit overwhelming, and I'm trying to find the balance," you explain, maintaining the facade. The weight of keeping the truth hidden gnaws at you, but the fear of how Alex might react keeps you from opening up.

He leans back, a supportive look in his eyes. "I get it. Just don't forget to take care of yourself, okay? You don't have to carry everything on your own. I'm here to help, too."

"Thanks, Alex. You means a lot to me," you say, grateful for the understanding tone in his voice. You hated the fact that because you let your stupid hormones get in way, now you had to lie to your best friend.

──

The booming music echoed through the crowded room, the beat of the music creating a chaotic sound of laughter and chatter. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and alcohol. You found yourself in the middle of it all, a red cup in hand and the bright lights casting a kaleidoscope of colors over everyone as Future plays through the speakers.

As the night progressed, the effects of the one too many vodka RedBulls took their toll, and you realized that getting home on your own might be more challenging than expected. With a blurry sense of responsibility, you fumble for your phone and manage to dial Alex's number: your favorite sober friend.

"Hey, Alex," you slur into the phone, trying your best to sound coherent.

"Y/N? Is everything okay?" Alex's voice, though concerned, held a hint of weariness.

"Yeah, I'm just... shitfaced right now. Can you pick me up?" You request, your words entirely slurred. Your head was aching and all wanted to do was sleep.

There's a pause on the other end. "I wish I could, Y/N, but I've got some work I need to finish tonight. I'm really sorry."

You pout, the disappointment evident in your voice. "It's fine I can call an uber. I just-"

"Wait, Trevor's here. He said he could come pick you up."

"What?" You thought out loud. Trevor hadn't spoken to you in more than two weeks and now all of a sudden he wants to come and save the day?

"No 'whats' Y/N." Alex sounded exhausted. "It's 2 am, I'm not letting you get into an uber drunk and alone. Trevor's coming right now, just hold on."

With that, you hang up and awkwardly attempt to wait for Trevor. The minutes feel like hours as you sway slightly to the music, the room spinning around you. You were getting tired as you sipped on your water as an attempt to sober up. You felt a hand grab your waist and you jumped but relaxed at the sight of Trevor behind you.

Exhaustion was clear on his face but he still somehow looked good. You didn't know if it was the alcohol or what, but he looked amazing under the colorful lights. He steadied your shaky and drunk body as he looked down at you, concern on his face.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asks, his expression shifting from concern to genuine worry.

"Yeah just a little... drunk." You slurred as you manage a half-smile, appreciating his presence despite the haze of alcohol clouding your senses.

"Yeah, I can see that." He returned your smile as you unintentionally stared at his face, his blue eyes boring into yours. "Let's get you home, okay princess?"

The nickname didn't sound so bad drunk or horny as you blinked up at him. Together, you navigate through the crowd, Trevor's hand securely on your waist, a sense of comfort and stability in the swirling chaos of the party.

The journey outside is a welcome relief from the overwhelming noise. The cool night air hits you, and you take a deep breath, feeling a bit more alert. Trevor leads you to his car, and as you settle in, you can't help but feel a mix of gratitude for him. You look at the time, it was almost 4 in the morning and he came all the way here to get you. It wasn't even at the request of Alex, he offered.

"Thanks for coming," you mumble, your words slightly slurred.

Trevor gives you a small, understanding smile. "No problem. Just wanted to make sure you got home safely."

As Trevor drives through the quiet streets, the gentle hum of the car and the motion lulls you into a drowsy state. The exhaustion from the party catches up with you, and despite your best efforts to stay awake, your eyelids become heavier with every passing moment.

Trevor glances over and notices your head nodding, your eyes struggling to stay open. Concerned, he reaches over to gently shake your shoulder. "Hey, Y/N, you okay?"

You mumble a sleepy affirmation, your voice barely audible. The comfort of the car, with the rhythmic sounds of the night, becomes too hard to resist. Slowly, your eyes flutter closed, and you find yourself succumbing to sleep.

Trevor glances over again, a soft smile playing on his lips as he realizes you've fell asleep. He adjusts his driving, making sure to navigate the roads carefully while allowing you to rest. The ride continues in a peaceful silence, the streetlights casting a soft glow over the car.

By the time Trevor arrives at your house, you're in a deep sleep, completely unaware of the ride's end. Trevor parks the car carefully, making sure to have a smooth stop. He looks over at you, the soft glow of the streetlights illuminating your peaceful expression.

Trevor decides to let you sleep. He turns off the engine and steps out of the car, gently closing the door. Moving around to your side, he opens the door with a quiet creak, trying not to disturb your rest.

With great care, Trevor scoops you up in his arms, cradling you like precious cargo. The night air is cool as he carries you towards your front door. His steps are measured, ensuring each footfall is soft, not wanting to wake you from the peaceful sleep you've fallen into.

As Trevor reaches your door, he fumbles to find your keys and unlock it. The quietness of the night envelops the scene as he carries you inside, careful not to make a sound. He navigates through the somewhat familiar space of your home, finding your room and carefully putting you down the on the soft cushion of your bed.

He took off your shoes and socks, as well as your coat. He got a blanket and covered you with it carefully. Trevor then went to the kitchen grabbing a bottle of water and finding the asprin, putting them on your bedside table.

After, Trevor stands there for a moment, watching you sleep, the soft glow of the streetlights filtering through the curtains. With a final look, he quietly leaves the room, leaving you to continue your sleep undisturbed.

The next morning feels like waking up from a million year sleep (and not in a good way). As consciousness seeps back in, you're met with a disorienting fog, a heavy ache in your head and the lingering taste of regret. The sunlight beams through the curtains feels more intrusive than comforting, casting a harsh light on the hazy remnants of the previous night.

This happened every time you go out and drink, your hangovers are always the worst no matter how many tricks you try. You sit up, your head pounding as the memories of last night resurface. The room spins for a moment before settling into a dull ache. Glancing around, you piece together the familiar surroundings of your room, but the events of the night before remain elusive, obscured by a mental fog.

You turn your head to the bedside table and see what Trevor had left. Then everything started to piece together. The phone call, the drive home and now... he left you asprin and a bottle of water?

As you slowly sip the water and take the asprin, the disorienting fog begins to lift. The sunlight, though still unwelcome, now holds a softer glow, and the room feels less oppressive. You can't help but wonder about Trevor's motives and the reason of his actions. Is it mere kindness, or does it mean something more?

You shake your head and sigh. It's too early to be contemplating what any of it means, you're too hungover to even care. All you know is that you appreciate him for what he did last night, even if he had ghosted you for two weeks.

──

"Yeah and then she left the date right after I told her that, and she never texted me back." Alex chuckled as he leaned back more into the couch, getting more comfortable.

You and Alex laugh as he recounts a date, the casual banter lightening the mood in the room. The atmosphere feels familiar and relaxed, and you're both enjoying the comfort of the couch.

"That's rough. The classic 'reveal too much too soon' thing," you joke, a playful smile on your face. It was good to finally relax back at Alex's place without any of the Trevor shit making you uncomfortable. You were in the clear for now, you and Trevor still haven't talked about what happened a few weeks prior and it sounded like neither did Trevor and Alex.

Alex nods, taking a sip of his drink. "Yeah, pretty much. I guess I scared her off with my deep thoughts. Lesson learned, I suppose."

"Deep thoughts?" You laughed as you shook your head. "Okay Mr. Philosopher."

"That's right, Y/N. I'm not just a pretty face; I've got layers," Alex teases, giving you a mock-serious look. You let out another booming laugh, leaning back into the couch.

The door opens unexpectedly and you both look to see Trevor walking in with his gym gear. He looks tired and his eyes widen in surprise as he makes direct eye contact with you. He immediately looks away and sighs.

"Hey," Trevor greets, his voice carrying a mixture of weariness and slight annoyance.

"Hey, Trev." Alex responds, a noticeable shift in the atmosphere. The living room now feels awkward, the unspoken tension palpable.

Trevor moves further into the room, avoiding eye contact with you. "Am I interrupting something?"

Alex glances at you, and there's a moment of hesitation before he responds, "Nah, just catching up. You're not interrupting."

Trevor nods slowly, still avoiding direct eye contact with you. The weight of the unspoken tension hangs in the air, and the room now feels awkward and strained. As Trevor heads to another part of the apartment, you exchange a look with Alex, both unsure of how to navigate the unexpected encounter.

"That was awkward." Alex was the first to speak up, a little amusement in his voice. "Everything okay with you two?"

You tried your best not to show how uncomfortable that question made you feel. You had to lie to your best friend again. "Yeah, why'd you ask that?"

"I don't know, Trevor's usually more excited to be home and you guys were making pretty intense eye contact." Alex explained as he shrugged, leaning more back into the chair.

You manage a nonchalant smile, doing your best to downplay the significance of the encounter. "Probably just tired from the practice and the gym. And maybe he's hungry."

"You're right. He does get hangry." Alex muses as you let out a little chuckle. You hear the bathroom door open and there he was, an somewhat angrier expression on his face.

He sat down on the loveseat and sighs as you and Alex exchange looks. "Hey dude, you hungry?"

"Yeah." Trevor responds with a nod. "You and Y/N planning on going out to eat?" His voice carries a hint of... jealousy?

Alex rolls his eyes and sighs. "No, not just me and Y/N, I was thinking about goin' and getting something for all of us to eat."

As you sat in the middle of this situation, you felt like you were intruding. This felt a little more personal than they were both leading on.

Trevor's skeptical gaze shifts between Alex and you, and for a moment, the tension thickens. The air becomes charged with more tension, and you feel like an unwilling spectator caught in the middle of their now, weird dynamic.

Finally, Trevor breaks the silence, "Alright, fine. Whatever you're getting, make it quick. I'm starving."

As Alex heads towards the door, you and Trevor are left in an awkward silence. The weight of the unspoken tension looms, and it's clear that something beneath the surface is affecting the atmosphere.

"So..." you begin, attempting to break the awkwardness.

Trevor cuts you off with a curt nod. "Look, we need to talk about what happened."

You scoffed in annoyance. You have been trying to get in contact with him after this whole weird incident but you kept getting left on read and now he wants to act like he's the bigger person? You're not gonna let him get away with that. "Yeah, we do. Let's talk about it."

"Fine, let's talk," Trevor concedes, his eyes meeting yours with frustration.

You decide to break the ice, "Look, Trevor, I tried reaching out to you. Multiple times. You left me on read every single time."

Trevor crosses his arms defensively, his gaze avoiding yours. "I needed time to think, alright? It's not that easy."

"You could've at least told me that. Ignoring me just added more confusion to the mix," you retort, your frustration bubbling to the surface.

He rolls his eyes, dismissive, "We hooked up, Y/N. That kinda thing complicates things and I needed space to figure it out."

You shake your head, unimpressed by his justification. "Space doesn't mean ignoring someone. And, for the record, you played just as big a part in 'complicating things' as I did."

Trevor looks at you, his irritation evident in his features. His ears were turning a bright red as his eyes became solely focused on you. "I don't want to rehash this right now," he sighed. "Let's just move on and forget about it."

You're not willing to let him sweep everything under the rug so easily. Your heart raced in anger as Trevor tried to downplay this entire thing. It was pretty clear to you that this whole thing meant way more to you than him. "You don't get to decide that, Trevor. We both need to address what happened."

He huffs, clearly growing angry. "What's there to address? We hooked up, things got weird, and now we're here. End of story."

Your jaw slightly fell open, you couldn't believe he just said that. Your frustration intensifies, and you're not about to let him off the hook. "You can't just pretend like it didn't mean anything. We were somewhat friends, and now it feels like you're trying to erase that. And don't get me started on what would happen with us and Alex."

Trevor's eyes narrow at the mention of Alex. "He doesn't have anything to do with our business and if he gets mad at us for just doing that, so be it. We're adults who can make our decisions without him being angry about it."

Your frustration only grows as Trevor dismisses the impact of your actions on Alex. "We're all friends, Trevor. It's not just about us; it's about the dynamic between all three of us. You can't just sweep it under the rug and expect everything to go back to normal."

Trevor's expression tightens, and his frustration is palpable. "This is between you and me. Bringing Alex into it just complicates things for no fucking reason."

You cross your arms, unyielding. "He's part of our lives, Trevor!"

Trevor runs a hand through his hair, visibly agitated. "You act like I'm hiding something from him. We're not together, and we both know it was a mistake. So, what's there to explain?"

But you're not ready to move on. There's a lingering tension, a connection that can't be easily severed. "We can't just brush this under the rug, Trevor. Ignoring it won't make it disappear. We need to talk about it and figure out where we stand."

Trevor's expression hardens, and you can see the walls he's putting up. "I'm not gonna dissect our one-night stand and it's every little detail, Y/N. If you're looking for closure or whatever, find it elsewhere."

The blunt dismissal stings, and you find yourself growing more frustrated with every passing moment. "You can't just shut me out, Trevor. We are both friends with Alex, and we owe it to him to face the consequences of our actions."

Trevor's face contorted with anger, and he snaps back, "You act like I owe you or Alex something, Newsflash: I don't. We hooked up. Get over it."

"Okay fine. It's not like it was anything I hadn't felt before, your skills are mediocre at best." The comment slips out, and Trevor's face contorts in anger. You knew it was petty to bring the sex into it but it was worth his expression. He looked shocked as he was surprised.

He got up from the loveseat and grabbed your face. "Oh really? It didn't sound like that when we were fucking, Y/N. You were screaming so loud I'm surprised that the neighbors didn't say anything."

You knew you struck a nerve then and there and couldn't help but smirk. You held his eye contact for a few seconds before spitting out another petty remark, "Maybe I'm just a really good actress."

Trevor's grip on your face tightens as he leans in closer, his eyes narrowing. The air between you two crackles with intensity, a strange mixture of anger and something else. "Wanna test that, princess? Let's try again and see who's right." Before you can fully register what's happening, his lips crash onto yours in a fierce, heated kiss.

It's a collision of conflicting emotions – anger, desire, frustration – all rolled into one. The kiss is both punishing and passionate, a show of the unresolved tension that has been building between you. As you respond to his unexpected move, the lines between anger and lust blur in the heat of the moment.

Time seems to freeze as you both lose yourselves in the unexpected intensity of the kiss. The room, once filled with animosity, now becomes a battlefield of unspoken emotions. The kiss is a paradox, a contradiction to the heated argument that lead to it.

His hands left your face as he move them to grip your hips, as his lips travelled down your neck as he planted wet kisses on it. You couldn't help but whimper in desire, keeping his movements slow and calculated. "You're a slut, you know that?" He whispers in your ear as he sucks right below it.

The dirty words left his mouth so smoothly you couldn't help but whimper in affirmation. You couldn't help but like it. Trevor's hand moves further south and lands right on your crotch. You let out a soft moan at that, looking to the side at Trevor's expression. He still looked frustrated as he rubbed you slowly, "You let Alex touch you like this?"

You wanted to be annoyed but he just has you such a trance, you couldn't be. You didn't know what this whole competition with Alex was, but all you know was that Trevor wanted praise. You shook your head, "Only you, Trev."

"Good." He finally unbuttoned your jeans and you felt a relief wash over you. Trevor quickly moved your jeans to down to your ankles as he felt your underwear. You felt another jolt of utter arousal hit you as he rubbed you.

"Oh fuck, Trevor." Your eyes shut as your head lolled back on the couch.

"You're so wet, princess." Trevor let out a laugh as he moved his hands. "Bet Alex couldn't make you this wet."

You shook your head in a state of deliciousness. "Only you, Trev. Please, do something."

"I don't think you deserve it though, princess. Haven't been so nice lately, huh?" He was teasing and you both knew it. You let out an exasperated sigh as you bucked your hips against his hand.

"Trevor, don't tease right now."

"I'm serious." He moved his other hand to grip your face to make you look at him. "You haven't been a good girl, princess. Causing all these problems for me, when all I've done is make you feel so good. Right?" He started rubbing you a little faster, as your eyes shut again.

You knew you were gonna regret agreeing with him later but you needed him to touch you, or you swore you were gonna explode. "Fuck. Yes, I'm sorry. Sorry just please do anything, I need you."

"Need me? Hmm?" He was having fun with this and you were tired of it. He finally moved your underwear to the side and he dipped a finger in, making you arch your back on the couch.

"Shit, Trev!"

He immediately started thrusting his finger in and out. "You're so fucking wet, princess. And I didn't even touch you until now. You're a slut for me, beneath all that anger and frustration from earlier, all you needed was another good fuck from me again, huh Y/N?"

You hated how right he was. And how good he was making you feel. He soon added another finger and that added to the pressure that was currently building in your lower stomach. It was so, so close to snapping, you were about to cum. Your whole body began shaking as you felt the wave of relief wash over you, one hand gripping his wrist and the other holding onto the couch.

Before you could process anything, Trevor pulled your jeans back up. He leaned down to your face, "Open your mouth." You did as you were told and he stuffed his fingers into your mouth. "You made a mess all over my fingers, princess. Gotta clean it up now."

You sucked his fingers clean of your arousal. Then, you heard keys and Trevor quickly pulled them out of your mouth right as Alex walked in. "Hey guys, I got Chipotle. I got your usual orders." He looked up with a smile before it fell slowly. "Um, you two okay?"

Trevor responded with a laugh, "Yup we're perfect. I gotta go to the bathroom really quick I'll be right out." He didn't spare you another glance as he sauntered back into the bathroom.

"Didn't he just take a shower?"

"Yeah, maybe he just um... needed to pee." Your legs were still shaking as you smiled up at Alex. "You uh, got some guac and chips?"

──

As the weeks passed, the dynamics between you and Trevor shifted. What started as a complicated relationship began to turn into something more. The late-night conversations grew longer, the laughter became more genuine, and the guarded walls you both had built around yourselves started to crumble. Being vulnerable became something neither of you were scared of anymore. You found solace in each other's company, sharing your thoughts, fears, and dreams.

Trevor, who was once guarded, started opening up about the pressures of his career, the expectations, and the toll it took on him. In turn, you shared your own struggles, creating a bond that turned into something more than the physical. The tension that lingered from the first night slowly dissipated, replaced by a something more.

The secrecy surrounding your relationship added an element of thrill, but it also brought uncertainty. The fear of someone finding out, especially Alex, loomed over you both. Yet, despite the complications, you found solace in each other's company. The intimacy that developed between you two went beyond the physical, and the connection deepened with each passing day. But the lingering question remained: How long could this hidden relationship last and what would be the consequences when the truth inevitably came to light?

The glow of city lights illuminated the night as Trevor and you walked side by side along a quiet street. The evening air felt cold, but the warmth between you two created a bubble that shielded you from the cold.

Trevor's hand found its way to yours, his fingers intertwined with yours in a natural and familiar way. Your hands were freezing and his were warm, you felt yourself become warm by his touch. As you walked, you couldn't help but exchange playful glances and teasing smiles.

The city sounds slowly faded as you entered a little café that was a safe haven from the crispy air outside. The smell of freshly brewed coffee enveloped you as you walked in.

The barista greeted you with a smile as you approached the counter. Trevor squeezed your hand gently, his eyes locked onto yours. "What do you feel like having?"

You scanned the menu, the warmth in your chest spreading as you realized how comfortable and natural this felt. "How about some hot cocoa?"

"Yeah, me too." Trevor nodded and placed the order, his hand never leaving yours.

As you waited for your drinks, you found a cozy corner booth and settled in. Trevor slid into the booth across from you, his gaze was warm. "My stomach still hurts from that ramen we had on Saturday."

You laughed at that and shook your head, "Me too. What were we thinking ordering the spiciest one on the menu?"

Trevor chuckled, his laughter echoing in the warmth of the café. "I don't know, we thought we could handle it. I don't even remember what it tasted like."

"Probably a trauma response," You joked as you smiled up at him.

Trevor shook his head, "Yeah never again."

The warm cups cradled in your hands, you took a sip of the sweet hot cocoa. "This is perfect. Thank you for indulging my sweet tooth."

Trevor grinned, his eyes sparkling with as he winked playfully. "Anything for you."

"Oh yeah?" You laughed as you shook your head.

Trevor leaned in slightly, his voice lower. "Absolutely. You've got a sweet tooth, and I've got a soft spot for you."

"That was so cheesy, Trevor." You shook your head in a faux disappointed way but your heart fluttered at his words. You wanted to think logically but at this point, you couldn't. You knew you weren't dating but it felt like you were, and that was all that mattered right now.

"Yeah? Well you're blushing so I'm pretty sure it landed well, no matter how cheesy you say it was." He smirked as he drank some of his hot cocoa.

"Oh, shut up." You rolled your eyes, hitting his shoulder playfully. "That was your goal the entire time, you're just trying to get in my pants."

He put his hands up defensively as he laughed, "You got me there, princess."

Your face was as warm as the drink in your hands as Trevor gazed back at you. "Stop looking at me like that." You whispered with a smile.

Trevor shook his head in response, "Nope." He leaned in and planted a soft kiss on your lips.

──

You pulled up the blanket to cover your naked body as you let out a laugh at Trevor's joke, the warmth of your bodies leaving your entire body on fire. The glow of his bedside lamp created a cozy atmosphere, casting shadows that danced along the walls. Trevor laid beside you, a contented smile playing on his lips.

"That was a good one," you say softly, still chuckling at his stupid humor.

Trevor smirked, a teasing glint in his eyes. "I have my moments. But hey, I've gotta keep ya entertained."

You playfully rolled your eyes. "Entertained? Is that what this is?" You gestured between the two of you.

"Of course. I'm here to provide top-tier entertainment. What else did you think this was?"

You feigned deep contemplation, tapping your chin. "Well I was hoping for a one-man show, but I guess company isn't too bad."

His eyes sparkled with amusement as he laughed. "Oh, I see how it is. You're just here for the comedy, not the sexy company."

You chuckled, "Well, your sexy company is tolerable when you're not making terrible jokes."

Trevor placed a hand over his heart, pretending to be wounded. "Ouch, Y/N. My jokes are gold, and you know it."

"More like bronze," you teased, smirking.

Trevor shook his head, "I'm a comedic genius and you know it, princess."

You playfully rolled your eyes. "Genius might be pushing it a bit."

He feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. "Ouch, right in the ego. I really thought I was the funniest guy you knew, sweetheart."

You chuckled, "You're definitely up there, but I can't give you a big head. We wouldn't want that."

Trevor shifted closer, the warmth of his presence enveloping you. "Nah, my head's just the right size. Wouldn't want it any other way."

Before you could respond, you heard a loud ding! coming from the bedside table. You realized it was Trevor's phone and grabbed it quickly and glancing at the screen on pure habit. Your heart dropped when you saw a girl's name with three hearts next to it, "Amber ❤️❤️❤️". You didn't recognize it and you quickly handed it to Trevor, choosing to keep quiet. You two were nothing but friends with benefits, that was it.

That realization hit you like a ton of bricks, you knew you had no right to be saying anything because neither of you even talked about wanting commitment. But the thought of him talking to other girls the same he did with you felt like betrayal, but of course he was; he was one of the biggest names in the NHL right now, who wouldn't wanna sleep with him?

Trevor took his phone from you, glancing at the screen. He quickly tapped a response, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy, even though you had no right to. Your heart felt like it was shattered and you suddenly felt sick. It was a stark reminder of the nature of your relationship – undefined and open.

He put his phone back on the bedside table, seemingly oblivious to the momentary discomfort that flickered across your face. "Sorry about that. Just a friend," he said casually, offering a smile.

You managed a nod, plastering on a forced smile. "No worries." Your response was short as you pulled the covers up to cover up more of your naked body, you felt more exposed than before.

He noticed the gesture and his eyebrows furrowed, "You okay?"

"Yeah, just tired. I should probably get going, I have work in the morning." You said softly, dismissing the fact you said you'd stay the night, like you usually did.

Trevor seemed confused until he looked at his phone then back at you, piecing it together. "Oh,"

You got out of the bed and put your bra and shirt back on. Trevor stayed in bed, trying to figure out what to say. Just as you were about to leave, Trevor's phone buzzed again. Another notification from the same girl probably, and you couldn't ignore the pang of hurt that struck you.

Trevor, sensing your gaze, met your eyes, his expression guarded. The unspoken tension between you two hung in the air. "Is everything okay?" He asked, shaking his head.

"Yeah, fine."

"Y/N, is this about her?" He gestured toward his phone. Before you could say anything he continued. "Come back, princess. Promise I'll stop talking to her, okay? Will that make you stop being cold?"

You hesitated, caught off guard by Trevor's unexpected offer. The vulnerability in his eyes mirrored your own uncertainty. After a moment of silence, you sighed, relenting to the unspoken desire for clarity.

"Fine," you replied, the weight of the unspoken tension lifting slightly. You looked up at him and the curves of his lips turned up into a warm smile and it felt like he was pulling you back in. Goddamnit. You tried to be strong but even his smile made your knees buckle.

"Come here, princess." He mumbled as he opened his arms up and you sighed. You put down your bag and slowly walked back to him as he scooched so you could come.

As you nestled into the warmth of Trevor's arms, the faint scent of his cologne enveloping you, a mixture of comfort and uncertainty settled in. The comfort of being close to him tugged at your heart, and for a moment, it felt like the unspoken tension had given way to a silent understanding. You listened to the soft beat of his heart, and it echoed the complexities of your own feelings. Trevor's fingers traced soothing patterns on your back, the rhythmic gesture grounding you both in the present moment.

He moved slowly and gave you a soft kiss on your head as he muttered against your hair, "Only really want you, princess. You're the only one who could ever make me feel like this, do shit like this..."

The words hung in the air, as you stayed wrapped in his arms. You couldn't ignore the fact that, despite the uncertainties, there was a bond that he shared with you that he doesn't share with anyone else.

──

Finally, after months of living with Alex, Trevor had secured his own place. In the true nature of Alex and Trevor, they threw a housewarming party to celebrate it.

The party at Trevor's new place was in full swing. In a corner of the living room, Trevor leaned against the wall, a solo cup in hand, and surveyed the scene. His eyes found Alex across the room, engaged in a conversation with a group of people. As he caught sight of you approaching, Trevor's smile widened.

"Enjoying the party, princess?" he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

You smirked, taking a sip of your drink. "Not bad, Trevor. You throw a decent party."

Alex walked over and joined the conversation, clapping Trevor on the back. "Man, this place is huge. Finally got rid of the sardine can feel, huh?"

Trevor chuckled, "Yeah, the sardine can days are over. No offense, Alex."

"None taken. It was time for a change, and I needed my own space. Plus, no more stepping on each other's toes. I can finally have as many girls over as I want." Alex joked as you rolled your eyes.

"Okay, sure Mr. Rizz right here."

"Shut up, Y/N. You're still single and I'm here with girls blowing up my phone." Alex playfully glared at you and you couldn't help but laugh. You and Trevor both exchanged a knowing glance before laughing again. It was still a secret, of course.

Trevor's gaze suddenly moved behind you and he quickly excused himself, you turned around to see the girl, Amber, from the other night. The one who he'd insisted he'd stop seeing. The only reason why you knew what she looked like was because you decided to do some investigating on his Instagram, finding her. Your face fell and you turned to Alex, excusing yourself as well to go find some drinks.

The thing was, you and Trevor weren't together. It wasn't the fact that he's still seeing her that bothered (but you would admit that it did sting a little), it was the fact that he promised to stop talking to her, it was on his own accord.

Moving through the crowd, you felt a knot form in your stomach as you sought refuge near in the kitchen. The sight of Lily's arrival stirred a bunch of emotions, each one more complex than the last. Trevor excusing himself to go talk to her only added to the discomfort.

As you busied yourself with preparing a drink, Alex joined you, sensing the shift in your mood. "Everything okay, Y/N?"

You forced a smile, attempting to downplay the situation. "Yeah, just needed a breather. Crowds, you know?"

Alex raised an eyebrow, studying your expression closely. "You sure that's all?"

"It's nothing, Alex," you reassured him, taking a sip of your drink. The burning liquid did little to soothe the brewing turmoil within.

The music throbbed in the background as you kept an eye on Trevor. His interactions with Amber seemed too friendly for someone he "stopped talking to". The promises he made echoed in your mind, and you couldn't shake the feeling of being betrayed, even if it was in a vague, unspoken way.

As you continued to observe Trevor and Amber, your internal turmoil escalated. You knew that watching wouldn't help your anxiety but you couldn't stop yourself. They laughed together, sharing inside jokes that seemed to bridge a connection beyond what you'd expected. It was a contrast to the secrecy that surrounded your interactions with Trevor, you couldn't help but feel jealous. The laughter, their shared glances, and his touches — it all played out before you like a scene from a script you hadn't been privy to. Your attempt to brush off the unease became even more challenging.

Then, he broke your final straw — he moved her chin up to look at him, like he always did with you. It was a simple gesture but it meant a lot but now you've realized it may have just been a trick all along. He knew what he was doing. You couldn't just sit there and watch anymore, you had to do something. Unable to bear the sight any longer, you made your way through the crowd, determined to confront Trevor about this stupid situation.

Finally reaching Trevor, you tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to you, a smile playing on his lips. "Hey, princess, having a good time?"

The nickname didn't feel so endearing as did it before you glanced at Amber then back at him. Your attempt to maintain composure was slipping, and you responded with a forced smile. "Can we talk?"

Trevor's brow furrowed, and he exchanged a quick glance with Amber before nodding. "Sure thing, Y/N."

Before you and Trevor could walk away, Amber spoke up. Sensing tension, glanced between you and Trevor before smirking. "Oh, is this your girlfriend?"

The term stung, not because you didn't want to be Trevor's girlfriend, but because it highlighted the weird nature of your connection. Before you could respond, Amber continued, her tone condescending, "Trevor, you didn't mention you had a possessive one."

You gritted your teeth, your patience waning. "I appreciate your concern, but this is between Trevor and me. You don't need to get involved."

Trevor's jaw tightened, irritation evident in his expression. "Amber, we're just figuring shit out. It's not your business."

She chuckled, clearly enjoying the tension. "Oh, I get it. Casual fun, right?" Amber's gaze shifted to you, her eyes narrowing with a hint of mockery. "Hope you're not catching feelings, sweetheart. It's not that kind of arrangement. And just remember, you have options, Trev."

The nickname rolled off her tongue perfectly as she left. As she walked away, Trevor shot her a disapproving look before turning his attention back to you.

Turning back to Trevor, you felt a mixture of frustration and hurt. "Can't believe she talked to me like that. And I can't believe you just let it happen."

Trevor looked torn, his eyes darting between you and where Lily disappeared into the crowd. "Y/N, I didn't expect her to be like that, she's sweet to me. Can we talk about this later?"

The dismissal fueled your anger. "Later? You always say later, Trevor. Do I even matter to you?"

Before he could respond, you stormed away, the weight of unspoken words heavy on your shoulders. Trevor hesitated for a moment, torn between following you and letting you go, but ultimately, he chose to chase after you, calling your name in a desperate plea.

He finally caught up, a hand grabbing your arm gently to turn you around. "Y/N, come on. Let's talk about this."

You scoffed, ripping your arm away. "Talk? You're only good at talking, Trevor. Actions? Not so much."

Trevor ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident on his face. "What do you want from me, Y/N? I can't control how she acts."

"Maybe you can't control her, but you can control your own actions," you shot back, the anger bubbling over. "You promised, Trevor. You promised me you'd stop talking to her."

He sighed, looking exasperated. "I said I would talk to her. I didn't know she'd act like that. Can we please not do this here?"

Your eyes narrowed, a bitter laugh escaping you. "Oh, now you care about where we fight? How considerate of you."

Trevor's frustration matched yours, and he raised his voice. "I'm trying, okay? I'm dealing with a lot right now."

"Yeah, well, so am I," you retorted, feeling the sting of tears threatening to spill. The emotions that had been brewing for weeks finally reached a boiling point. "I can't keep doing this, Trevor. I can't keep pretending like everything's fine when it's not."

Trevor's frustration boiled over as he snapped back, "Oh, don't act like you're innocent in all of this, Y/N. You're the one who can't make up your damn mind. One minute, you're all over me, and the next, you're acting like I'm a stranger."

You glared at him, the hurt evident in your eyes. "Maybe I wouldn't be so confused if you actually communicated instead of leaving me in the dark all the time. And don't even get me started on your promises."

He rolled his eyes, a scoff escaping his lips. "Promises? What are we, teenagers? Get over yourself, Y/N. This isn't some fucking fairy tale, people are gonna break some promises sometimes."

Your jaw tightened, and you shot back, "At least I'm not playing games with people's feelings. You know, it's not that hard to be a decent human being, Trevor."

Trevor's eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer, the venom in his voice palpable. "You act like you're some hotshot, like you have it all figured out, you're just as lost as the rest of us. Maybe you should stop pretending like you have your shit together because I know you don't."

You couldn't believe he had went that low. Your chest tightened with anger, "At least I'm not relying on empty hookups to fill the void, Trevor. Maybe if you faced your issues instead of drowning them in whatever girl you find next, you wouldn't be such a fucking mess all the time."

Trevor's face contorted with rage, his usual composed demeanor crumbling. "And what about you, huh? Always trying to fix everyone else's problems. Maybe you should take a good look in the mirror and realize you can't fix everything."

The words hung in the air, each one sharper than a blade. The pain they carried cut through the lingering tension, leaving you stunned. Trevor, realizing the meaning of his words, took a step forward, a desperate urgency in his eyes.

"Y/N, wait, I didn't mean—"

But you had heard enough. The realization that he had crossed a line, spoken words that couldn't be unsaid, fueled your resolve. You turned away, your footsteps quickening as you tried to distance yourself from the searing pain in his words.

Trevor stumbled out an apology, the desperation in his voice growing, "Wait, I take it back. Y/N, please, don't go. I didn't mean any of that."

With each step away from him, the sounds of the party became muffled, as if the world outside your fractured bubble was moving on without you. Trevor called your name one last time, his voice a desperate plea, but you couldn't bring yourself to turn back.

He turned around and saw the last person he'd thought was overhearring them. "Fuck, Alex. You scared me-"

"You and Y/N were hooking up this entire time?" Alex spat, anger in his voice. Trevor hadn't seen him this livid in his entire life. "I should've known, and I should've told her it's a bad idea. And now she's crying because of you, Trevor. Great move, buddy."

Trevor's annoyance flared, "Alex, this is none of your business. Stay out of it."

But Alex wasn't backing down. "None of my business? She's my best friend, Trevor. I hate seeing her like this, and I hate that you're the one causing it."

"Cut the "best friend" bullshit, we all know you fucking like her!" Trevor yelled. He was so close to spilling over the edge, this was supposed to be a fun party but now it's turning into a mess. "And you're too fucking jealous to admit it. And here's the thing, buddy, she'll never see as more than a brother figure, so find yourself someone else."

Alex's eyes widened, disbelief and even more anger merging on his face. "You think this is about jealousy? Trevor, you're so fucking blind. I care about her well-being, not some weird possessiveness shit. Unlike you, I don't treat people as disposable, and I sure as hell don't manipulate them into some fucked up games."

Trevor's frustration boiled over. "You don't understand a fucking thing. She's not your responsibility, and you're not her savior. Stop pretending like you know what's best for her."

Alex's eyes narrowed. "You're right. I don't know what's best for her. But I know what's not, and that's you, Trevor. If this is the person you've become, then-"

Trevor, feeling the weight of the accusations and the tension in the room, snapped, "You know what, Alex? She's mine. Got it? Mine. And you need to accept that."

Alex's eyes widened, pure anger on his face. "What did you just say?"

Trevor's face contorted with a bitter smirk. "You heard me. She's mine. You've always been in the way, and now she sees it too. So, back off, buddy, She doesn't need you."

The words hung in the air like a poisonous cloud. Alex, fueled by a surge of rage, responded, "You're fucking crazy if you think she's an object you can just claim. She deserves someone who treats her with respect, not someone who plays with her feelings for fun."

Trevor's eyes blazed with fury, "You have no idea what she wants. You've always been the nice guy, and nice guys finish last."

Alex scoffed and finally looked away from him, starting to walk to the door. "Yeah, fuck this I don't care. Bye, asshole."

"Oh real rich, Alex! Running off to go save the day like you always do, huh?" He yelled as Alex opened the front door. "Good luck getting outta the friendzone." Before he could walk out, Trevor grabbed his collar and pulled him closer. "You'll never, ever compare to me, Alex. In any way, shape or form. Especially in that department cus we all know who does it better." With a forceful shove, Trevor sent Alex stumbling backward against the door before turning away and walking off.

Trevor needed a drink, and fast. He didn't process anything or anyone as he walked into the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of vodka. He pulled out one of the shot glasses before pouring himself one, taking it quickly.

Before he could take another, someone tapped on his shoulder. "How'd it go with your little girlfriend?" Amber smirked. "Is she gone?"

Trevor couldn't even speak, he was livid. She was the reason that you had walked away from this. And he just realized that you were the best thing he'd ever have. "Oh, fuck off."

Amber looked proud as she laughed, "Don't be too sad about it, Z, you have me."

That was the last straw. "Get the fuck out."

Her face finally fell. "What-"

"You heard me. Get the fuck out," each word came out more harsh the next. "And I don't wanna ever hear from you again, got it?"

"Z, wait, no! Why are you mad-"

"Get the fuck out! Now!" Trevor finally yelled, watching her shoulders fall. She finally got the memo and sighed, walking away.

As Trevor downed another shot, he realized the gravity of the situation. He had pushed you away, hurt Alex, and now, he had to face the consequences of his actions. The alcohol burned, matching the turmoil in his mind.

Alex caught up with you just outside the house, his footsteps echoing in the silence of the night. He could see the tear stains on your cheeks, and the weight of the situation weighed heavily on his shoulders.

"Hey," he said softly, placing a hand on your shoulder. You turned to him, and he could see the hurt in your eyes. Without a word, he pulled you into a tight and comforting embrace.

You let out a shaky breath, finding solace in the warmth of Alex's presence. His friendship had always been a source of support, and in that moment, you needed it more than ever. He didn't press you to talk; he just held you, letting you feel the reassurance of his touch.

"I can't believe he said those things," you whispered, your voice breaking as your tears stained his hoodie.

Alex sighed, rubbing your back soothingly. "Yeah, he went way too far. You don't deserve that, Y/N."

As the two of you stood there in the quiet night, the weight of Trevor's hurtful words lingered in the air. Alex's presence was the comfort you needed, though. The warmth of his embrace, the steady beat of his heart against yours, helped to ease the ache that Trevor had left behind.

After a moment, you pulled back slightly, meeting Alex's gaze. There was a soft understanding between you, a connection that went beyond friendship. In that shared vulnerability, something shifted.

"I don't know what I expected," you admitted, wiping away a stray tear as you sniffled. "But I never thought he'd say those things. It's like he's a different person."

Alex nodded, a mixture of empathy and frustration in his eyes. "Sometimes people show their true colors when things get tough. And sometimes, we don't really know them as well as we think we do."

A small, sad smile played on your lips. "I thought we were... together, you know? And now it's like I never really knew him."

Alex's expression softened, and he brushed a strand of hair from your face. "You deserve better, Y/N. You deserve someone who appreciates you for who you are, without all the drama and games."

As the words hung in the air, a new awareness passed between you. The night had unfolded in ways you hadn't anticipated, and in the quiet intimacy of that moment, something changed. The connection between you and Alex had deepened, a subtle shift that neither of you fully understood yet.

"I-I'm sorry I didn't say anything about it. It was a secret and I didn't want you to think differently of me." You spoke softly.

"That could never happen, Y/N." He whispered as he cupped your face slowly, as if to test the waters.

Then, without planning, both of your lips met in a gentle kiss. It was a tender touch of understanding of the pain you both felt. The world around you seemed to fade for a moment as the weight on your shoulders lifted, replaced by a different kind of warmth. When you pulled away, uncertainty lingered in the air, but there was also a sense of relief.

──

Over the next couple months, You and Alex started dating, and everything seemed happy and content for the most part. You went on dates and built a connection that felt safe and comforting, nothing like the one you had with Trevor. However, You couldn't shake the lingering feeling that a part of you was still entwined with Trevor. You knew that it was better for you but you missed the way Trevor touched you, the way he spoke and the way he treated you (when it wasn't bad). The joy she felt with Alex was genuine, but the ghost of Trevor lingered in the shadows, casting doubt on her decisions.

You and Alex continued your relationship but Alex couldn't shake the feeling that your heart still held a significant place for Trevor. Subtle cues, unspoken glances, and the distant expression spoke volumes to him. Despite your happy moments, he sensed your mind occasionally drifting back to Trevor sometimes.

Alex grappled with the awareness that he might be a compromise, a second choice compared to the intensity and history you shared with Trevor. The quiet comparisons became a silent shadow in your relationship, and though Alex tried to provide the love and support you truly deserved, he couldn't erase the lingering presence of Trevor in your heart.

"So who's throwing this party again?" You spoke as Alex drove quietly, music softly playing in the background.

"It's Jack's place," Alex replied, his eyes briefly meeting yours. "Should be a good time. He knows how to throw a good party."

You nodded, looking forward to a night of drinking, work hadn't been so fun and you wanted to have fun with all your friends. The car pulled up to the house, music pulsating from inside. As you stepped out, the loud atmosphere embraced you, drowning out any worries.

Amidst the loud music and the crowd, you and Alex found a space on the makeshift dance floor. The rhythm of the music pulled you closer, and soon, you were dancing together, your movements syncing effortlessly. The worries of the past seemed to fade away in the loud music, leaving only the present moment.

Alex twirled you playfully, a smile on his face, and you couldn't help but giggle. As the song shifted to a slower tempo, Alex pulled you into a gentle sway, the two of you lost in the music and each other.

The party continued around you, but in that moment, it felt like the world had slowed down. Alex's eyes met yours, and a warmth passed between you, the worries and comparisons faded away, leaving only the simplicity of the dance and the contentment of being in each other's company.

Everything was perfect.

Then Alex's gaze shifted behind you and suddenly his eyes hardened and he stopped swaying. You turned around to see the one person who you have spent the last 3 months trying to forget about, smirking as he watched the two of you.

"Trevor?"

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

1K notes · View notes

atrwriting · 1 year ago

Text

kisses and other sweet things (part 2) -- billy the kid x cowgirl!reader

hey party people :) posting this when I should be studying HAHA

send good vibes for my civil procedure final tomorrow many thx <3

I watched the scene where billy and ollinger fight and this very much inspired it lol enjoy

as always, warnings: smuuuut, p in v, unprotected sex (WRAP IT), dom!billy, brat!reader, violence, blood, pussy slapping, overstimulation

thank you all for reading!!! I love you all so much!!!!

ANYWAYS... part two:

neither one of you told… but it didn’t take long for the others to sniff the air and have an inkling for how the wind changed overnight.

in all honesty, it was billy’s fault.

the man found every way to remain close enough to be considered by your side since that night.

he would sit by you at dinner. he wouldn’t touch another woman. he always looked at you when he told a joke. he always looked at you when someone else said something funny. that joyful twinkle in his eye was reserved for you, and only you, and everyone had picked up on it. not to mention — he’d not only check his horse — but yours as well.

everyone knew what was up. everyone. absolutely everyone.

billy made it abundantly clear without even uttering a word that you two had participated in something similar to carnal relationship.

…but, in all honesty, you didn’t mind.

you would’ve preferred to talk about it, sure. what prevented you from bringing that up to billy was that you didn’t have to pry respect and loyalty out of him — the man just did it, and because he wanted to. it was… okay, fuck it — you have to admit it to yourself: it was nice. billy the kid showing you slightly more than common decency and general enjoyment of your company was nice. you were worried about bringing it up to him at the idea of losing the potential staple of someone having your back, and them trusting you enough to have theirs.

you were fucked. totally fucked. absolutely fucked. no way around it.

the man was a mysterious fuck, as well — looked at you like you were an angel, but has fucked you like even the devil would avert its eyes from the debauchery. respected in the streets, and disrespected in the sheets — every woman’s dreams.

the one unfortunate aspect was… the others. you can usually ignore everyone, and anything — only way to get through life. however, the severity of the teasing had begun to worry you.

it first began with a curt up-down look of when billy always found his way to dismount from his horse and walk next to you. it wasn’t like he was guarding you, no… neither was he following you like a puppy. it was like there was a new form of respect there — and given the fact that most of the men still looked at you like you were just a silly girl, they noticed it. for a split second, in your stupid mind, you thought it would maybe make the rest of the men treat you better — but how could you ever think that? you rolled with these guys because their very existence was about disrespect and taking for themselves.

billy had made you bot outsiders — more than you already were.

like… maybe you weren’t together… but you had each other. you weren’t sure if you could count on him yet — but his actions were… well, they confused you. and you weren’t sure if it was a good or bad confusion yet.

there had been very few moments of privacy, so you were not able to catch him alone and speak about what happened. at first, you figured you both would go about your lives as usual… not wanting to expect too much from a man who appeared to live as he wanted when he wanted to. however… you didn’t expect that how he wanted to live his life was, well — apparently by your side.

unfortunately, thinking things over was not a freedom given to you without obstacles. many of them began giving you and him looks — and then the teasing started. instead of being known by name or a nickname, the men could be heard calling you “billy’s girl” in hushed tones.

you feared the day they finally bucked up the jewels and called you his whore. you knew it was coming — you didn't want it to happen, but you knew it was. you couldn't afford to be naive.

if anyone else called you his girl — you might’ve blushed. you almost relished in it. however, when men who barely respected women called you that and you both worked with them — you knew they didn’t mean it fondly. it annoyed you, especially when you hadn’t been able to even talk about it with billy.

were you his girl? were you a fling? would billy fuck another woman if given the chance? and honestly, did he tell anyone?

questions ran through your head with very few conclusions approaching. you thought their teasing would be the worst of the worst — until it wasn’t.

no… the worst was when billy had fought one of them.

a few days after the teasing had begun to get bad, you had finally stopped at another boarding house and bar with the other boys. you figured you would retire early and let them have their fun — but that would not be the case.

when you eventually had drank your share of booze and went upstairs when the girls came around, that was when ollinger had opened his big, fat mouth.

“when billy’s done, can i get a turn?”

you froze in your tracks.

this was your worst fear — losing their respect. you had worked tirelessly to earn it, and there had been times where you felt like you never did. you may never have had their actually respect, the kind they give to men — but they never did something like that. and when all of them laughed, and began to hoot and holler — that’s when you knew where you stood with them.

fucking billy.

but that wouldn't stop you, no. they brought you on because you were a pretty thing with claws — and that's what they were going to get.

“known you longer than i’ve known him. can’t say you’ve ever peaked my interest,” you spat as you turned around to face him from a few feet away. “don’t know if you’re man enough.”

he stood then, eyes wild. he held the neck of a bottle in one hand and immediately took a swig, appearing to ignite the fire in his eyes and the aggression in his steps toward you.

“you want me to show you a real man, sweetheart?”

you took a step forward, afraid to back down. you narrowed your eyes at him. “you want me to show you how i’m a better shot than you, sweetheart?”

he stepped closer to you then. you didn’t budge — you weren’t sure if that was out of pride or fear. when he stepped closer, the stench of liquor leaked from his mouth like smoke from a wildfire. a smirk was plastered on his face, and staying still and silent was the only thing you could do to hold your ground.

“you know what that makes you, right?” he spat in a low tone. “makes you billy’s whore.”

you couldn't help it — your face twisted with shame and anger. your vision was going almost as red as ollinger's, and you weren't sure if both of you would survive the next action that came from you. before you could process the impact of his words, let alone respond — billy spoke up.

“shut your mouth, ollinger.”

your eyes flickered over to where billy stood with his hands balled at his sides.

ollinger took another swig of his bottle before he turned and stalked over to billy. billy didn’t flinch, but simply watched a drunk ollinger try to keep his cool. the entire group watched — and waited.

“you don’t tell me what to do, boy,” ollinger sneered, clutching his bottle. “you ain’t special. i ain’t never seen anything special about you.”

billy reached for his gun, but did not pull it out. billy’s hands were shaky, and that’s when you realized it — he was drunk too. “alright then — let’s fight it out.”

“i ain’t fightin’ you with a gun.” ollinger brushed off billy’s comment with another careless swig of his drink. “you ain’t that important.”

“then let’s fight with our fuckin’ fists.” billy discarded his gun and the belt it was usually kept in. “like men.”

ollinger’s eyes showed a peak of interest.

your eyes… well, they showed terror.

ollinger walked towards billy with a dip of his chin that suggested he would enjoy the aspect of hurting billy more than winning anything over billy. ollinger already thought he was better than billy, he didn’t need to win anything — but that look in his eye? when predator was threatened by another?

without his gun, you were worried for billy. frankly, billy should’ve shown it — or at least you thought he would. ollinger had at least a decade of years, strength, and experience on billy. not to mention — ollinger has also had a vendetta against billy since they met.

ollinger immediately threw of his belt. “i’ll beat your ass any day.”

as ollinger drained the rest of the bottle, you could hear the hollering of the other men around you as they drew closer. ollinger threw the bottle to the ground and stalked towards billy.

as billy was about to start pulling off his vest, you stepped up to intervene.

you’d at least like to talk to him before he died.

however, jesse stepped in front of you. “can’t get in the way of two men fighting, doll.”

you raised your eyebrow at jesse. “ill cut your cock off.”

jesse only laughed, but kept his arm outstretched in front of you.

with years of experience… you thought ollinger would fight fair — but he caught billy with a jab before billy could get his vest off. you lunged for the pair, but jesse and some of the others held you back.

you didn’t know what to do. sure, you believed in billy — but the man had a tendency of getting his shit rocked in hand to hand combat.

ollinger let out an excited battle cry — and your hate sank into your stomach. billy struggled to get up as you fought against jesse.

“come on, billy!” ollinger baited. “come on, billy!”

you watched the look in billy’s eyes then — assessing the threat. billy immediately dodged a punch over his head, came back up, and started slamming ollinger’s head against a wooden post.

the excitement of the men around you slightly died as they realized that billy didn’t fight like other men — he had no interest in punching, or relishing in getting a lick in. he went straight for a possible kill shot, grunting as he hoped to subdue ollinger.

there would be no stopping either of them. you relented against jesse’s arm, staring at the two men. your mouth parted in horror, and your stomach dropped at the sight.

billy eventually threw him over the picnic table like he was nothing more than a sack of flour. his grunts were predatory — powerful and fucking masculine. fighting was fun for ollinger — but this? this? for billy? this was necessity. he didn’t care about asserting dominance — he cared about being left the fuck alone. he needed to make sure ollinger never fucked about him again. dominance was worth nothing if you didn't have survival.

billy, still intoxicated, stumbled over to where he had thrown ollinger — but ollinger was too quick. he grabbed billy by the boot and threw him back. billy landed on his ass, and you watched in fear as ollinger stomped toward him. his eyes were wild and his mouth was curled into a bloody snarl. you wanted to get involved, you knew you should’ve — but what could you do? this was what happened when you rolled with men like this — they had to fight this out themselves, or they would become everyone’s problem. you hated it — every fucking minute of it — because this problem started with ollinger’s disrespect for you and how you could cut his jewels off before he could even get a kiss in. poor billy…

but not poor billy.

no, not poor billy — because when ollinger stood over billy, billy kicked him so far backwards that ollinger then stumbled and fell on his ass.

billy was up in an instant, stumbling, and smacked the absolute shit out of ollinger with an open palm. ollinger flew backwards for a second time that night, and suddenly the men grew more excited watching the fight. all you could do was trail behind them — worried.

billy walked up to the porch and stood above ollinger, but ollinger’s wounded pride had gotten the better of him. he took billy by the cloth of his shoulders, and slammed him repeatedly against the wooden wall of the outside of the house. jesse and his friends were cheering on billy, but all you could hear was his pained grunts. and then, just then — the moonlight had caught billy’s face just right. his eyes were screwed shut as the pain registered from the blow — and blood was pouring down from his nose and into his mouth. billy fell against ollinger in exhaustion, and that was when pat garett started cheering louder and louder.

“please,” you whispered, helpless.

in an instant, billy had gotten his elbows up and clutched the shoulders of ollinger’s shirt. with (basically) a battle cry, he willed himself to push ollinger off of him, in front of him, and then in through the doors of where all of the other men were with their women.

you followed jesse, pat, and the others.

billy and ollinger immediately crashed into the floor of the house with grunts and screams. the men once getting blown or ridden were now cheering on the fight, and the women above them or at their feet were stunned and confused — worried about getting hit.

this time — billy had gotten up before ollinger. ollinger may have had years of experience on billy, but years were years: ollinger was old, and exhausted. billy stood up and began laying overhead punch after overhead punch onto ollinger.

“get up, ollinger!” he yelled, eyes black. “get the fuck up!”

immediately, billy pulled back. like you had thought — he didn’t need the kill shot, but he needed the threat subdued. billy was breathing heavy, he was bleeding… you were so worried for him. jesse pushed past you and grabbed billy’s arm, raising it above his head.

“boys, we got a winner!” jesse cheered before everyone followed in suit.

billy fell back against the nearest bed and sat down. it just so happened that was a bed that your oldest friend was sharing with a woman. stunned, the woman grabbed billy by the shoulders to steady him. she wiped some of the blood off of his face with his shirt. you were thankful — but then her smile turned big when she realized how handsome he was.

your blood boiled.

you watched at his big eyes darted up to her face as he tried to regain his composure. he took one look at her face, your friend, and got up.

he spat once on the floor, cleaning his mouth of any excess blood. over his shoulder, he threw, “no hard feelings, ollinger.”

and started straight towards you.

you stood there, in the back behind everyone, frozen in place. billy was in front of you in as little as five strides. thankfully she had wiped his face — because he only tasted vaguely like blood when he grabbed you by the face and pressed your lips to his.

he cupped your face with one hand, but it held you in place like he was the only thing that mattered in the world. with his finger stroking your cheek, you kissed him with every bit of fear, frustration, and excitement you had in you. your lips folded together like you two were the only ones in the room — and like everyone in the room wasn’t cheering for the clear winner of the fight, and the kiss with the girl the fight was started over.

billy had stood up for you. the one man who had actually ever done that.

against your lips, he whispered. “i know you could handle himself yourself — but you shouldn’t have had to.”

you giggled against his lips, yours stretching into a wide grin. he pecked your lips a couple of times, unable to get enough of being the only one to be able to do this. he replied, “never had much taste for these girls — had a different one in mind.”

“you gonna take her somewhere private, cowboy, or what?” you asked.

billy’s eyes twinkled with mischief before he bent low, and hauled you over his shoulder. your feet kicked in front of him as you struggled to hold your hat in place and keep your balance. you were shouting at him, but nothing could be heard over your giggles or everyone else’s whistling. with one firm arm circling your hips, keeping your ass in place with his massive hand, he kicked open the doors and brought you upstairs.

“billy, if you don’t put me down —“ you laughed, breathlessly. threats were futile. “i swear —“

“shhh, sweetheart — you know i’ll take care of you,” he responded.

billy found an empty bedroom and immediately went to work. he sat you down on a low dresser and immediately started going for your riding pants and shirt. you kicked off your boots and shimmied out of the fabric as billy stood over you.

with one hand pressed to your cheek, he kissed you once more. you pulled away to smile at him. you spoke, “thank you… for what you did.”

“ollinger needs to know when to shut his mouth,” he spoke, engulfing you in a kiss once more. “should’ve made a move if he was jealous. now i’m the only one who gets to have my face between these pretty thighs.”

he pulled you by the hips so you were almost hanging off the edge, your feet flat against the wood of the dresser. you were breathless as your head began to swim. billy got down on his knees, parted your thighs, and dove for your slit.

your head immediately hit the wall. you wanted to arch your back — keen towards him — but you had limited mobility. you were at the mercy of the man before you who was lapping at your clit like nothing else existed. you should've been worried about his injuries, the dried blood on your face... but you couldn't. you didn't. billy was satisfying every bit of desperation you had felt since that night and you were too strung out to fight him. strained moans left your lips as your hips began to buck into his face.

“billy, stop…” you whined. “i want you inside me…”

he didn’t listen. the man kept his tongue drawing all kinds of messy, wet circles around your sensitive bud that pulled every dirty whine out of you. in an instant, billy pushed two fingers into you and immediately started pumping them. you lost your breath — and your ability to speak coherent sentences as well. he was tapping against your upper wall, pining for that sweet spot that was gonna make you sing for him.

“fuck, fuck, fuck…” you cried. one of your hands found his tangled mess of curls and fisted your fingers through them. billy’s tongue was thick, hot, and the roof of it was rough as he shook his head against your center, increasing the friction. your hips and legs were spasming uncontrollably as a warm feeling spread from your abdomen. “jesus christ — you’re so mean.”

the air seemed to shift in that moment, but you were so lost you couldn’t comprehend. billy wrapped his cracked lips around your clit, and pulled at it and sucked. hard.

your eyes screwed shut as a cry vibrated through your chest and into your throat. it hurt, god it hurt, but in the most bittersweet way you could imagine. it was like pain and comfort all in one, delivered by the same hand, driving you into submission. every blood vessel was throbbing, throbbing, throbbing for billy’s movements and you couldn’t regain control — and you weren't sure you wanted to.

he suddenly pulled away. “you think i’m mean, sweetheart?”

his blue eyes pierced into yours when he picked up his head to face you. his eyes were raised in a manner that suggested he expected a response, but you were still in your daze. your eyes were glossy, your lips were puffy and parted, hoping he'd answer his question for you.

billy didn’t like that. with his free hand, he slapped your clit.

your body jolted, surprised at the sensation. it made your breath catch in your throat as all of your senses were on red alert... but it only made your pussy throb harder.

“billy…” you whispered, tears coming to your eyes. “you’re teasing me.”

his dry thumb began to rub circles around your sensitive clit, and the mixture of your slick and the rough skin of his dumb drew you into his control. in that moment — in that raw, vulnerable moment — you couldn’t think of anything else besides billy, and getting him to make you cum.

“mean, that it, sweetheart?” another slap to your clit. “you want me to show you mean?”

even in your haze, you were a brat at heart. with a smirk, yet shaking from how sensitive you were, you smirked at him. “don’t think you can.”

in an instant, he was on his feet. you struggled to ring out your tense muscles and stand with him, but billy wasn’t having it. he flipped you around so you were on your stomach on the dresser, legs hanging over the edge. billy pulled your hips up for you to stand on your toes, forcing your ass into the perfect position for him.

“slut for only me, huh?” he asked, kneading the skin of your ass in his hands. he slapped it once, twice, thrice — ripping little squeals from your petal pink lips. his thumb found its way into the outer folds of your pussy, barely entering. “won’t throw even a pity glance at anyone down there — but something about me just gets you this wet.”

he pushed his thumb into your sopping wet hole, and you squealed. you held onto the dresser to give yourself leverage to push yourself into his hand, but one of his hands held down your lower back.

“more, please…” you whispered.

“that smirk made me think you don’t deserve it,” he spat, still playing with your pretty pussy.

“billy —!” you screamed with exasperation. “please!”

with his thumb still in your pussy, billy leant down and wrapped an arm around your throat. with your neck in the crook of his elbow, he pulled your back to arch up towards him. billy placed his lips right by your ear, and spoke, “is that who’s got you this worked up, baby? huh? me? be sweet, and maybe i’ll kiss those pretty tears away.”

you hadn’t even noticed it — but he was right. your cheeks were stained with tear streaks that made them damp. with broken breaths, you spoke, “please — i promise.”

he began to pump his thumb into your pussy, while his other fingers worked light circles around your clit. “promise what?”

“that i’m — that i —“ you couldn’t get the words out. you were a struggling mess — clinging to the dresser with the little strength in your hands you could muster, and completely at the mercy of billy’s hold. his breath was hot against your face as heat rose throughout your body. “i —“

“fucked so dumb you can't use your words?”

“fuck —“ you cried, already almost succumbing to the feather light touches on your clit. “you’re the only one, billy — only one — please, just let me cum.”

“yeah?” he grunted. “gonna take what i give you?”

“anything, billy —“ you gasped. “please — just want you.”

billy kept his promise. he pressed his lips against your cheek, pushing your head slightly to the side. every muscle in your body was taut with trying to remain balanced and stay perked for every one of billy’s moments. his fingers in your clit began working faster and harder, and your body began to shake. you were so sensitive to everything around you — his kisses, his chokehold, his heat on your back, his fingers buried deep in your folds. you bucked his hips back into his hand, and everything exploded.

without billy’s hold, you would’ve collapse into the dresser. your knuckles were white as they bent, causing your nails to rip at the wood of the dresser. you back was arched completely towards the ceiling as you tried to remain in position. billy was whispering nasty, nasty, nasty things in your ear that coupled with your delicious moans.

“that’s it, baby, just keep cumming for me,” he rasped, groaning in your ear. “can be such a brat — but she’s got the prettiest pussy. i know what makes my girl tick.“

“yeah, yeah, yes —“ you cried, falling against billy’s shoulder. the world melted before you. your eyes were drifting open and closed. the haze had consumed your brain, and each of billy’s movements made a whine well up behind your closed lips. “fuck, billy, i can’t —“

his fingers didn’t stop, and you felt like you were about to collapse. “oh, sweetheart, too much for you?”

you were practically fucking sobbing at this point. “n-no-no—“

“greedy, baby,” he said, licking at your cheek. “thought you were gonna take everything i gave you?”

“your cock, billy — please —“

“naw, sweetheart,” he said stroking your cheek. “think you’re in over your pretty little head. can’t take anymore.”

“no, no, billy — i want your cock so bad —“ your whines were music to his fucking ears.

“yeah, baby?” he asked, shimmying off his pants. “you want my cock? think you can handle it?”

“i can, i can, i can —“ you chanted, your head swimming. you felt billy’s hands spread your ass, kneading the flesh in his hands. his cock slipped in through your folds until he bottomed out, pressing his hips firmly against your back side.

with billy’s mouth still so close to your ear, he rasped, “sucked my cock into you, doll. couldn’t help yourself, huh?”

you arched your backside into his hips, eagerly hoping to meet every thrust. billy had once hand holding your hips down, and the other was clutching the soft, supple skin of your throat. you could hear every labored breath of his, mixing with your own. this position was unlike any other: from the back was usually reserved for women of the night, but holding you? in such an intimate manner? with his lips dragging across the skin of your cheek? waiting for how you reacted to his touch?

you were a mess. mud in his hands — dirty and messy and everywhere —needing him to keep you together.

“nothin’ feels better than you inside me, billy,” you whined.

“i know, darlin’, i’ll always take care of you,” he groaned, lips pulling at your ear lobe which sent your nerve endings on fire. “don’t know how you do it t’me. y’let me, and i'll always be back in between these pretty thighs.”

the groan you let out was hoarse in the most feminine way. your hair was splayed out all around you, cascading down your back. with every thrust, your nipples, taut, hit the cool wood of the dresser and mirrored the smallest bit of pain you needed to leave reality. your skin was flushed and tainted with every touch and caress from billy he gave you. when he saw the blush on your cheeks, and the tears staining your long lashes — he could’ve come right then.

his girl. his pure, fucked out, sweet and scary girl. all his. a force to be reckoned with, but the prettiest sight to see. and you were all his.

however, he wasn’t through with you yet.

no. he was so mean, and he knew it — but he didn't care.

not when he had finally had you after so long.

it was right then that billy promised himself he would never neglect you for so long ever again. he knew that no one had ever touched, fucked, or loved you like he did. he knew that you never let anyone even get as close to him as you let him that night, and he would never forget that — nor would he be so careless as being ungrateful.

his girl — flushed, pink, and finally being able to know what it means to be so vulnerable with a man that she would never know an orgasm like this. he would set the fires of hell on anyone around you if it meant that you could feel this free, so wild, so yourself for the rest of your life. he knew what he had to do next.

he pulled out, and flipped you over so you were back against the wall and sitting up. he immediately stepped in between you and pushed your thighs and legs up so your calves would rest on his shoulders.

“need to feel how deep that pussy can squeeze me,” he grunted, pressing his cock into your folds.

you moaned at his words and movements, practically sand at this point. your body was numb and on fire and in water all at the same time — leaving you completely out of control. all you needed, no — craved was billy sending you over the edge. over the edge, please, over, over, over, need it billy, a pathetic mess you were, but neither of you would change it for the world.

billy began pistoning his hips into yours and you immediately leaned forward to grab onto his bulging biceps. you felt every hot breath hit your face with every thrust. the room was so hot, stuffy, humid, and yet you didn’t want it to end. all you could feel was your tight, soft walls squeezing the living hell out of billy and his beautiful cock.

“‘m gonna cum, billy,” you cried, squeezing your eyes shut.

“yeah, ‘cause you’re a good girl f’me, huh?” he bit. “always takin’ everything i give her. takes my cock so well.”

“only for you, baby,” you cried again, throwing your head back against the wall.

“oh — i don’t think so, sweetheart.” his thumb immediately went to your clit, drawing rough circles on the overstimulated rosebud. "i get to see those pretty eyes when you cum."

your body immediately went taut, sitting up. the slight shake of your limbs was apparent to both of you, and you let out little gasps because of how far you were driven from reality. his cock was pounding against that one sweet spot that made your knuckles white and your teeth bury themselves into the plump of your bottom lip.

“can’t,” you cried, tears beginning to flow once more. "oh, baby — i can't, i can't..."

“i know this pussy can handle it,” he bit. “what happened to being sweet, sugar? huh? goin’ back on your promise?”

his words were the last thing you heard before your body fell mercy to uncontrollable ecstasy. your mind, numb, was thrown back and forth between the throws of passion and the pull and push of billy’s hands bruising the flesh of your hips. you pressed your forehead to billy’s, sobbing through your gritted teeth. tears were pushing through your shut, wrinkled eyelids, and all you could hear was billy begging — coaxing that last orgasm out of you.

billy had won the fight, and he had earned every fucking orgasm he had given you that night. he needed it, he earned it, and he would not be denied it. testosterone was mixing with his blood, making his veins pound, and all he could think about how the scary and sweet girl he won a fight for was weak and needy for his touch.

desperate for a comfort that she hd only allowed him to give her.

he detached your foreheads so your faces were almost pressed together, sides of your noses touching. his lips were brushing against yours — but they weren't kissing you, no. instead, they were reminding you of exactly who you belonged to.

“sweetest fuckin’ girl i know.”

"luckiest guy in this whole thing — you get that? all fuckin' jealous of me."

“knows exactly what to do to fuckin’ please me.”

“pussy just won’t stop cumming, sugar? bet you hate me so much, huh?”

with one final pull of pleasure in your muscles, you screamed his name with a sob. a fucking sob. you were drenched in sweat, your own slick, and tears. fucking tears. they were everywhere — down your cheeks, your neck, and all over billy. your hands found the hair at the back of his neck, and you weaved your fingers through the tendrils for stability.

that was when billy’s orgasm hit him: when you were so weak you could do nothing but cling to him and cry for his touch.

the throaty groan that rumbled through his chest was unlike anything you ever heard. it was animalistic — a primal need was satisfied and everything in his body was singing at the release. he clutched your body to his and your skin warmed at the embrace. he delivered three final pumps into your puffy, pink pussy, and you couldn’t do anything besides take it. you didn't want to do anything else besides take it. the sound of his moans sent every hair on your body standing at attention and your fingers were stroking his soft skin for comfort.

“that’s it, baby,” you whispered, cockdrunk. “love when you're the only one that gets to use me like this.”

at that, he knew you'd be the death of him. he accepted it, and he was okay with it. — happy, even.

you were peppering kisses all over the side of his face as he was coming down from his high. a sleepy haze settled over his eyes, but instead he captured your lips into one final embrace.

“this is the second time this evening i’ve had my shit rocked tonight, darlin’, all because of you,” he whispered. “no dull moment with you, huh?”

“never, baby,” you whispered, letting your eyes fluttered closed as you leaned against him.

“good thing you’re mine,” he quipped, pressing a long and hard kiss to your cheek. “never could share a sweet thing like you.”

----

im buzzing after that

love u guys hehe

-L oxoxox

#william bonney #billy the kid #William h bonney #kid antrim #william h bonney x reader #william bonney smut #billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid smut #billy the kid x reader #billy x reader #billy smut #billy the kid imagine #billy imagine #William h bonney smut #tom Blyth #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow

2K notes · View notes

sweetestcaptainhughes · 3 months ago

Note

Ooh for your drabble challenge:

125. “Quit moving, I’m trying to sleep. Wait...are you...what?!”

Angsty!! -> 🙈 and with Nico Hischier. Please and thank you! 🩵

ooo of course I love writing some angst and I don't ever remember writing angst for Nico yet... I am truly sorry this took me an embarrassing amount of days to answer. 😔Also this turned out so much longer than I thought it would but I kind of like the background I gave the prompt.

Drabble Challenge. Drabble Masterlist.

"Quit moving, I'm trying to sleep. Wait... are you... what?!"

Sharing a bed with Nico Hischier was not something you were planning on doing when you agreed to go on this weekend getaway with your best friend. But little did you know that everyone but you and Nico were the only two single people in the group. Of course they only room left in the house in your air bnb by the time you got there was a makeshift office with a small twin bed in the corner. So now here you were sharing a bed with Nico, who just so happened to be your friend's partner's best friend who also happened to your ex-boyfriend.

Once you both made it into the tiny office/spare bedroom, immediately the words left your mouth, "Uh I can sleep on the coach in living room downstairs." Already turning around with your hand still on your luggage as you start to turn around but Nico lightly grabs your arm to stop you.

"Stop, You're not sleeping down there Y/N that room is full of windows and the light will wake you up tomorrow morning or literally anyone going to the bathroom in the middle of the night." His voice soft, almost pleading for you not to leave him in this room by himself.

Sighing deeply, closing your eyes for a few seconds the exhaustion of traveling creeping in on you slowly, all you were craving was somewhere to sleep. "Fine." you grunt, taking a deep breath you continue. "I'll sleep on the floor in here."

After being with him, you can translate the curse words that leave his mouth in Swiss German. Something along the lines of 'goddamn me, bullshit.'

"So what's your idea then?" The irritation clear in your voice.

"I am not letting you sleep on the floor Y/N/N." His voice more defined from earlier, the stubbornness clear in his voice now. You can physically see him take a shaky breath as his voice cracks due to nerves as he suggests "We can share a bed?"

Finally making eye contact with him for the first time since entering the room, your face full of shock at his suggestion. But all you see starring back at you is his soft big brown eyes begging you to stay. "It's a twin Neeks." you whisper suddenly scared of making your voice any louder.

"I know. But were both tired and we don't have any other options. Can we just go to bed please." he begs lightly reaching for your hand and it was as if as soon as his hand lightly creased yours, you were back in time to six months ago before you both decided you needed space because neither of you had time due to your careers to be in a committed relationship. And in that moment, you felt your heart break a little and your pulse quicken. "Please baby." Nico begged the nickname rolling of his tongue so naturally, your not even sure if he heard it himself.

But in an attempt to protect yourself you find your arguing even though your voice was above a whisper as you close your eyes. "We have other options Nico. You just don't like them." Opening them again after a few seconds you meet his face again and you knew there was no other option, you were about to share a twin size bed with your 6'1 ex boyfriend Nico. "okay." you admit in defeat, you swear for a second you saw a smile on his lips as he slowly pulls you to the bed and climbs in first putting his back against the wall, laying on his side.

It wasn't an ideal situation, deciding it was best to let lay on your side facing away from Nico trying not to touch him despite having no space. Apparently Nico had different plans when you felt his arms circle around your waist pulling you so your back was flesh to his chest. He did it so fast, as i it was second nature, an instinct taking over. Nico was asleep in no time, he use to claim he always was with you in his arms, and you could tell he was asleep by the little breaths he was leaving on the back of your shoulder where his head was tucked down. Sadly for you, sleep didn't come as easily it was if your brain and your heart were having an internal battle on what was happening. Trying not to focus on how safe you felt being back in his arms because this was a one night thing, trying to remind yourself the reality of the situation.

Somewhere around 3 AM you fell asleep, but you didn't sleep long as you look at the clock and see it was just a little after 5 AM. Your not sure if it's from Nico's body heat or just the fact of sharing such a small bed. But you felt hot and sticky all of a sudden. Trying to carefully remove Nico's arms off of you so that you could attempt to get comfortable and all fall back asleep for a few more hours. But there was no hope when you felt Nico whine behind you due to the movement.

"Quit moving, I'm trying to sleep." he whined pulling you closer and shifting back to both of your orginial sleeping position. In an insenence Nico felt it his entire body stiffened and opened his eyes in fear begging that you won't say anything about his morning wood but his fear was coming true when you asked.

"Wait." you said trying to decide if you felt his hard cock poking into your lower back or if you were making it up, but when you were sure you knew you were right you gulped and whispered. "Nico are you?" Slowly waiting a response you knew Nico was embarrassed, he let go of your arms and tried to turn his body to face towards the wall but wasn't as fast as you. Quickly you turned around in his arms lightly grabbing his forearm and lightly whispered his name again trying to meet his eyes. "Nico, look at me."

He paused in his movements in a few seconds he slowly looked down at you and asked "what?"

"It's okay baby, I miss you too." Not sure if your words would even make sense to anyone else but you knew Nico would understand. Breaking up was the hardest thing either of you ever had to do. "Nico I miss you with every fiber of my being and I think it's kind of hot that I gave you morning wood without even trying." you smirk at him. In an instant he closed the gap between you both into a messy kiss pulling you to lay on top of him. Neither of you knew what this meant but you knew one thing, whatever the next step was both of you were doing it together.

#nico hischier blurb #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier smut #nico hischier fluff #nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier fic #nico hischier #new jersey devils fanfic #new jersey devils imagine #drabble collection #schwritingsnh13

308 notes · View notes

blackcoldcrackedheart · 2 months ago

Text

🤷🏾‍♀️ write-y mood again because I'm not in a great mood rn.

"What the hell is this?" Buck wasn't expecting a brand new locker or anything, but he at least was hopeful that the locker assigned to him at the 118 was cleared out.

Chimeny, the guy Bobby said was a paramedic, rolled his eyes at him. "It's a hoodie, probie."

Buck knew the nickname was coming, he was half annoyed but pleased to hear it. He open the hoodie, it was well worn for sure- with the LAFD and 118 logo fading but it looked clean. He thought for half a second he could wear it but Chimney let out a "Huh, guess Tommy forgot it or something."

"Who?" Buck asked, sniffing the hoodie and impressed by the cologne the guy used. "Smells like black tea and leather."

He wasn't paying much attention to Chimney’s reaction when he pulled the hoodie on. He groaned in slight annoyance when he noticed the hoodie was a size larger than him. He looked at his reflection in the small mirror attached to his locker. "Not bad, right?"

Chimney snapped his gum, a brow raised suspiciously as Buck turned around with his arms up as if modeling the used hoodie. "Whatever you say Kinnard."

Buck pointed a finger at Chimney, a smug smirk on his lips as he explained "Hey, possession is 9/10 of the law." He stuffed his backpack and toiletries into the locker.

"And you don't think he would want his hoodie back?"

"Who?"

Chimney rolled his eyes as he led Buck back to the bay. "Tommy." Chimney answered gruffly, "Pretty sure the guy wouldn't appreciate a probie jacking his stuff."

Buck shrugged, "Well, if the guy misses it, I'll return it to him besides its not like this is his only hoodie. I'm sure I'll get plenty with my name on it."

Chimney said nothing, opting instead to grab two clip boards, "Whatever you say probie. C’mon, time to show you the best part of being a firefighter." He slapped one of the clip boards against Buck's chest, "Cleaning the toilets."

Buck was apparently too slow to react, Tommy looked down right amused and confused as he held up a familiar hoodie.

"Evan?"

Buck froze.

Okay.

Okay...

So Buck didn't put two and two together when he and Tommy had first started dating.

He had kept the hoodie.

Because it was a hoodie that was in good condition (and hey, it smelled good at the start).

(Buck was all too familiar with that scent now, it was Noir 29. One of Tommy's favorite colognes)

So Buck wore the hoodie occasionally, mostly at home or when he needed to run errands. It was his everyday hoodie.

He wasn't really thinking about the chances of Tommy ever finding out that Buck wore his clothes looong before they had ever met.

But...

Buck had come back to Tommy's after a rough shift and Tommy was doing their laundry since Buck's clothing had accumulated a lot since he was staying over at Tommy's more and more now.

He wasn't thinking of it. He had completely forgotten that he had worn the hoodie from work and tossed it in the hamper before going to bed.

So now Buck was enjoying a late breakfast cooked up by his boyfriend as said boyfriend pulled a rumpled and worn hoodie from their shared hamper. Buck nearly toppled over the chair as he tried to rush over, planning to grab the hoodie before Tommy could ask any questions. But it was too late.

"What's this?" Tommy looked at the hoodie with an amused and confused expression. Kinard was still on the back of the hoodie, and so was the 118 and LAFD logo.

"Evan?"

Buck froze.

His tongue felt glued to the roof of his mouth as he wanted to curse his younger self for having the audacity to steal the damn hoodie years ago.

"Evan?" Tommy's voice was soft and fond sounding as he waved the hoodie, his smile teasing as he asked, "Care to explain why you have my hoodie from when I was at the 118?"

Buck was ready to lie but Tommy stopped him with a gleeful and knowing look, "And before you try to convince me that I must have given it to you, I only had one hoodie from my time with the 118, I thought I lost it or something." He opened the hoodie and gave it a little shake, "I didn't think my boyfriend would have it though." He held his hands (still clutching the hoodie) behind his back as he took a slow and sauntering step towards Buck. "Since I know that I didn't give it to you, my question is how did you get it?"

Buck felt a shiver down his spine as Tommy looked him up and down, he felt his face heating up as he tried to come up with anything that could be seen as reasonable.

But nothing was coming to mind.

"Wanna know what I think?" Tommy asked, his voice husky and eyes dark as he stepped closer to Buck.

Buck wordlessly nodded.

"I think based on how worn this hoodie is that you had it for a while." Tommy smiled, waving the hoodie, "And since it now smells like." He took a whiff and chuckled, "Absolutely like you, like your body wash and detergent, I would say that it's worn a lot."

"Tommy," Buck could feel his heart stutter as Tommy came closer to him. "I can explain."

Tommy's eyes glinted with allure and mirth, his fingers toyed with the hem of Buck's shirt (also Tommy's). "Please do."

Buck swallowed, feeling flushed as he explained finding the hoodie in his locker when he first joined the station and how he had kept it because it was warm and it smelled nice (that had Tommy snicker and pull Buck closer to him) and that the hoodie just became a staple in his wardrobe. That he had never given it much thought about who had the hoodie before and it never occurred to him he would and was dating the original owner.

"Evan," Tommy wrapped his arms around Buck's waist, the hoodie over his shoulder now, "I don't care that you took the hoodie." He admitted.

"You-you dont?" Buck asked, nearly panting in relief.

Tommy shook his head now, "Sort of think it's sweet that you ended up wearing my clothes before we even dated. Plus," He pulled Buck by the chin and kissed him, feeling the tension in Buck’s body leave as he deepened the kiss. He pulled back, resting his forehead against Buck's, "I like that you were wearing my name before we even met." Tommy admitted, smug and assured as his hands went back to Buck's waist. He was pleased to see Buck look flushed for an entire different reason, his fingers dipped under the shirt, resting his hands against Buck's warm skin.

"I- uh when you put it that way." Buck laughed, his awe shucks smile had Tommy grinning as well. Buck pulled Tommy in for a kiss, smiling as they pulled away not long after.

Tommy set the hoodie against Buck's chest, the Kinard side on the display as Tommy looked at Buck appreciatively. "Hmm, Evan Kinard does have a nice ring to it."

Evan could feel his ears burn, his heart stammered against his ribs as he choked out. "Really?"

"Really.

#bucktommy #tevan #buck x tommy

277 notes · View notes

unsolved-duvall · 2 years ago

Text

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐀 𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞 - 𝐞.𝐦. (𝟏𝟖+)

older rockstar!eddie x fem!reader

part one | part two

summary eddie munson was a world famous rockstar. and, apparently, an asshole. but you weren't one to believe rumours, so when eddie asks to meet you, who are you to say no? (11.4k)

warnings age gap, reader is 22 and eddie is 40 (if this makes you uncomfortable please do not read! <3) smut, lots of smut. an overuse of nicknames (doll, angel, sweetheart, etc.), dom!eddie, choking, penetrative sex, oral sex f!receiving, fingering, slight overstimulation, reader cries once during sex but for good reasons! promise. minors shoo, i'll chase you away with a stick. don't make me do it. (if i've missed anything please let me know!)

This was a bad idea. You knew that.

You should go home.

But he was right there. And he was so pretty.

He had asked for you. He had picked you out of the crowd. And now you were in his hotel room.

You were so fucked.

You (and everyone who knew Eddie) knew that he did this all the time, it was practically an after-show ritual for him. Only on a very rare occasion did he go back to his hotel room by himself, or with the same person. It was always someone new, someone he had seen at the show, someone who caught his eye. And tonight that were you.

Okay, if you were going to be completely honest here, this might have been what you wanted all along. But you never thought it would actually happen, you weren’t that delusional. But you had spent a little longer on your appearance tonight, and you had worn that outfit that showed off all your best assets and made you feel really fucking hot.

And Eddie really needed to remember to thank you for that. Because once he saw you at the front of the crowd he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. In between songs he had walked over to the side of the stage, bending down so he could speak into the security guard's ear, and had told him the same thing he told him every night, accompanied with a point in your general direction.

So when the show was coming to an end, security walked over to you and said “When the show ends hang around okay? Eddie wants to see you.”

Oh.

You just nodded and blurted out something like ‘Oh yeah, okay, yeah, I can do that, thank you-” honestly you don’t even remember what you said, because your heart was racing as you realised what was happening.

The security guard just rolled his eyes and strolled back to where he was originally standing. You figured he was probably tired of the reaction he got every time he had to tell Eddie’s latest crush to hang around after the show.

He did it every night, and honestly, he felt bad for every single one of them. It was the same each time: he would tell them, they would freak out, they would spend the night with Eddie, and the next day he would have to awkwardly escort them out of the hotel and tell them not to “take it personally doll, this is just what he does” Because Eddie wouldn’t even wake up early enough the next morning to say goodbye.

He was a dick. But people fucking loved it and loved him.

“You okay doll?” That recognisable voice pulled you out of your daydream and back to reality, although right now you weren’t entirely sure there was much of a difference between your daydreams and what was really happening.

Standing in Eddie Munson’s dressing room wasn’t exactly something you thought you would ever be doing.

After the show ended you stayed where you were, anxiously moving back and forth on your feet and looking around to see what exactly you were supposed to do next. Sure you had been told to ‘hang around’ but what did that mean? Were you supposed to stay where you were, walk over to a security guard and tell them Eddie had asked you to stick around? No, bad idea. They’d think you were a crazy stalker and would most likely escort you out of the venue.

You couldn't see the man who had come over to speak to you. Your eyes continued to scan the room, looking for anyone who seemed to be signalling for you to come over; and just as you were about to admit defeat and leave, that same man caught your eye and nodded his head to the side.

You hoped that was meant for you, or you were about to severely embarrass yourself.

But, everyone else still there seemed to be talking amongst themselves, paying no attention to the man who now stood, looking rather impatient, next to the stage. Gathering all the courage you could muster (which truthfully was not a lot but fuck it) you crossed your arms over your chest and walked over to him.

“Can you get over the barrier or do you need my help?”

“Wha- I’m sorry?” you questioned him with perhaps a little too much confusion in your voice, and based on the look on his face, you already knew he didn’t like you very much. Or maybe he was like this with everyone. He worked for Eddie Munson after all and based on everything you knew about him, you guessed that job probably took a toll on a person. He was notorious for being difficult to work with. He’s lucky he was so fucking hot.

“Are you serious… Jesus Christ okay- can you get over the barrier or do you need me to lift you over?” He started walking over to you, making a rather fair assumption that you were about to ask for some help.

“Oh um yeah, could you…” He was already lifting you over before you could finish your request ‘Thank you, sorry… I just… I’m not normally this nervous” awkwardly laughing as you placed your feet on the ground and adjusted your clothes.

“Yeah, you and everyone else who does this each night” He didn’t say it very loudly, probably not intending for you to actually hear him, but you did. It didn’t upset you, you knew what Eddie was like. But you were slightly embarrassed that his security was seemingly very aware of how your night was about to play out.

He didn’t speak much. Eddie’s security. You had tried to make polite conversation by asking his name, but he was too busy leading you to Eddie’s dressing room. It was cold backstage, and busy. Lots of people moving equipment and talking about the next show, you were pretty sure they worked for the Band. You noticed a few other girls standing around, probably waiting for the other members of the band. You knew that the others didn’t have as much of a reputation as Eddie, but you would have to be pretty naive to assume they weren’t doing almost the same thing. They were just more subtle about it.

“He’s in there” He stopped so abruptly that you were lucky you didn’t walk straight into the back of him. You looked up and saw that the door was closed, but his security was making no move to knock or open it for you. You thanked him and he just gave you a nod and walked away. Okay. Guess you’re knocking on the door yourself. Because that’s not terrifying.

But you were already here, and it would be far more awkward to try and find your way back so you took a deep breath and knocked three times on the door.

“Yeah come in” Eddie’s voice sounded from behind the door.

Oh shit, he’s really in there, you thought to yourself.

With one last shaky breath and shaking your hair out you grabbed the cold door handle and pushed the door open, peering around the door frame before you walked in. You could see Eddie, he was standing next to a high-up table and was clearly busy with something. But you couldn’t see anyone else, which was a small relief.

Pushing the door completely open you stepped into the room. You took your hand off the door, and you were not expecting it to shut as quickly or loudly as it did. The loud bang of the door caused Eddie to turn around slightly too fast to be casual, and his eyes darted straight behind you to the door and then instantly back to your face, looking straight at you. But he quickly regained his composure and let his eyes rake up and down you. Yeah, so Eddie Munson did not do subtle.

You were pretty sure Eddie just said something to you but you were too busy looking at him. No not looking, staring. Apparently, you didn’t do subtle either.

You knew Eddie was pretty. But in person, this closeup? It was ridiculous. He was annoyingly hot. His curly hair fell around his face, bangs resting just above his eyebrows, framing his face perfectly. Your eyes scanned down to his lips, parted slightly, and you couldn’t help but think about what they would feel like on your neck. But his eyes were what grabbed your attention the most, they were almost hypnotising and you definitely stared at them for an uncomfortable amount of time.

“You okay doll?” Eddie repeated his earlier question, not bothering to bite back the smirk that painted his face.

“Yeah, I’m… I’m good!” You did not mean for that to come out as enthusiastically as it did. “I mean um, I’m good thanks, are you? Okay?” If you didn’t get your shit together and start acting less like a fangirl in the next two seconds you were just going to escort yourself out.

Eddie laughed under his breath and leaned back against the wall behind him “Well aren’t you polite” You weren’t entirely sure what to say to that, so you just didn’t say anything. Instead choosing to remain standing by the door.

Eddie lifted his hand that was holding an unlit cigarette and placed it between his lips. And quickly removing it again, for some reason.

Oh god, now you were staring at his lips. And his hands. He had really pretty hands, with lots of rings on his fingers. Did he leave the rings on when he-

“Is staring a normal thing for you or am I just that attractive, sweetheart?”

Fuck. Rockstars were so damn cocky.

“That’s funny” You responded, you had no idea where that confidence suddenly came from, but something about the way he looked at you made you feel safe. “You know what?” You said as you walked over to the lone bar stool next to the table, sitting down and putting your hands under your thighs (you didn’t feel the need to question why there was only one chair in his dressing room).

“You’re already flirting with me and you don’t even know how old I am, what if I’m like… I don't know, seventeen?” You held back a smile as you saw Eddie tense up and then quickly relax again.

“Very clever, but not clever enough doll.” Jesus you wished he’d stop with the nicknames, it really wasn’t helping your whole ‘act casual’ plan. Eddie fiddled with the cigarette in between his fingers as he carried on speaking, “this venue doesn’t let anyone in under the age of twenty-one. So, unless you were using a fake ID I figured it was safe to assume you’re not, in fact, seventeen.”

You looked down at your feet that were dangling just above the floor, you weren’t using a fake ID. But you had in the past, he didn’t need to know that though. Although you couldn’t imagine he was one to judge someone for doing something illegal.

“Okay fine, so I’m not seventeen. You still don’t know how old I am though. You don’t even know my name, Eddie” You shot back, trying to sound serious, but the humour underneath your statement broke through. You also weren’t sure if you were on a first-name basis with him, but what else were you supposed to call him?

Eddie never broke eye contact with you the whole time you were speaking, but you couldn’t quite read what he was thinking.

“You wanna tell me your name then, sweetheart? Or am I supposed to guess that and your age? You wanna make me work for it huh?” Eddie put the cigarette down as he pushed himself off the wall and rested his forearms on the table, getting just that little bit closer to you.

“Normally yeah, I’d make a guy work for my name, but I suppose you’re special, right?” You said quietly, your confidence quickly slipping away the longer he looked at you.

“You’re gonna give me an ego, doll. No one’s ever called me special before, especially someone as pretty as you.” Eddie was a flirt, you knew that. He probably told every girl he has never seen someone as ‘pretty as they were’. But, still, it felt nice. You certainly didn’t believe that no one had ever called him special before. He was Eddie fucking Munson, for crying out loud.

“I’m Y/N.” You told him, purposefully not mentioning your age. You were over twenty-one but Eddie was… older.

He was almost double your age, actually.

“Pretty name. Matches the face.” Eddie flirted. He was insatiable already. “And you’re… how old exactly.” Eddie clearly noticed the look of worry that flashed because he quickly added “I know, I know. You should never ask a lady her age, and all that shit. But uh, help me out here”

“Okay um, I’m twenty-two.” Eddie didn’t react at all like he was waiting for you to say something else, but when you didn’t he just said “So that would make me old enough to be your dad, right?” he laughed.

“Whoa, well I wouldn’t say that. You’re forty. My dad’s in his fifties so…” Why did you just bring up your dad, to the man you were pretty sure you were about to sleep with? Smooth.

Eddie walked around so he was standing in front of you, resting a hand on your knee and using the other to push your hair off your face. “So you’re not uncomfortable, at all? Look, baby, I’m older, you’re still young, I wouldn’t want this to be some power-dynamic situation where you feel pressured, or fuckin’ whatever”

Shit. He wasn’t a complete asshole. At least not right now, he seemed genuinely concerned about you feeling safe. But with his hand on your knee, you weren’t sure how the fuck he expected you to focus.

“‘M not uncomfortable. I wouldn’t have come back here if I was” Eddie tilted his head slightly, looking for more confirmation. “I promise. ‘M not a child, Eddie”

“No, you’re definitely not… a child” You could tell he was trying really hard to keep his eyes on yours and not look other places right now. His hand that moved your hair came to rest on your cheek.

This close to him you could see the stubble on his face, and the freckles that painted his nose and under his eyes. His eyes were even more dangerous this close-up as well. You were pretty sure he would do anything he asked you to right now, and you’d only been with him five minutes.

Was he about to kiss you?

You were pretty sure he was about to kiss you.

You hadn’t even realised it but you had let your legs fall apart so he was now standing as close as he possibly could be, your legs dangling around his. He just kept looking at you, rubbing his thumb on your cheek, whilst his eyes moved back and forth from yours to your lips.

And just as you were about to lean forwards, your lips parting,

He walked away.

What the fuck?

“You smoke?”

“Wha- I’m sorry?”

Eddie had sauntered over to another table in the corner, it was covered in empty food containers, drinks, cigarettes and god knows what else. He grabbed the leather jacket that was thrown haphazardly across the edge of the table and threw it on, he still didn’t say anything as he walked back over to where you were sitting and picked up the cigarette he put down earlier, placing it behind his ear. You hated it, but there was something about him that made it impossible to not watch him. And he knew it, too.

“I said do you smoke?”

“No, s’bad for you”

“Fuck you’re not about to start lecturing me are you?” The immediate exhaustion in his voice was evident, and you wondered how many times a day he was told to stop smoking. “‘Cause I like you so far, don’t turn into an asshole now”

“No f’course not I just- you asked if I smoked, that’s all”

“Okay, good. Good that you aren’t about to fuckin’ lecture me and force me to tell you to fuck off,” Charming, as always. “and good that you don’t smoke. You’re too pretty for that shit.”

Only Eddie Munson could be an asshole and compliment you in the same sentence.

Eddie turned on his heel and headed for the door, as he opened it he turned around, clearly expecting to see you standing right behind him, but you hadn’t even moved from where you were sitting. “You comin'? Or are you just gonna sit there looking lost all night?”

You stood up without saying anything and expected him to just start walking again, instead he just shut the door again, leaning against it and drawled out “you know why I asked for you to hang around right?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a pretty good idea.” You weren’t entirely sure what his deal was. He was both exactly what people said he was but also not like that. He seemed… you weren’t sure. It wasn’t that he was unsure of himself, it definitely wasn’t that. But if you didn’t know he did this every damn night, you’d say he was trying to hold back his nerves.

Or maybe he just did this so much that it was starting to bore him.

“Okay. so?” He wasn’t even looking at you as he said it, instead choosing to stare at the ceiling.

“I don’t know what you’re asking me here, Eddie.” You whispered.

Eddie lowered his gaze to your eyes and stood up straight, no longer leaning against the door. “Can I fuck you, sweetheart? Do you want that?”

Oh fuck.

You nodded, certain that if you tried to articulate yourself you would find that words escaped you.

“Use your words for me, come on doll, need to hear you say it.” Eddie moved towards you a bit and picked up the pendant on the end of your necklace, flipping it over in his fingers as he waited for your answer, never once breaking eye contact.

“Yeah I- I want that. Want you to fuck me.” You blurted out.

A smile broke out on Eddie’s face as he dropped your necklace and turned around, opening the door and walking out “Come on then.”

You didn’t figure you were in a position to ask any questions, so you just followed him. Wherever he was going, he was going to fuck you once you got there, so you were happy either way.

What you didn’t know was that you had utterly confused Eddie.

You see, normally when Eddie invited someone backstage, it took them about two minutes before they were trying to jump his bones, kissing his neck and telling him how hot he was. It was easy like that, but you? You didn’t even try and touch him, which was… respectful. He wasn’t used to that. Not that he didn’t want you to touch him, he did. He had just never had to make the first move before, or straight up ask someone if they wanted him to fuck them.

But you did want him. He could tell. The way you couldn’t stop looking at him, even when he wasn’t even doing anything. The way your thighs rubbed together when he called you ‘doll’ or ‘sweetheart’. Or the way your breath hitched when he asked you if you wanted him to fuck you.

You were also really fucking pretty. He felt his heart race when you first walked into his dressing room. Sure, he had seen you in the audience and thought you were cute, but it was different when you were standing before him. But of course, he pushed all those thoughts away, You were a hookup, that’s all. That’s all he wanted. Maybe out of spite to himself, but he would never let anyone be more than that. And you weren’t going to be any different.

The drive to the hotel was pretty quick. Fifteen minutes at most. You had followed Eddie to a car that was waiting just outside one of the back entrances and he had even gone as far as to open the door for you. What a gentleman, maybe? You still could not figure him out.

Once Eddie was in the car, the driver set off. Neither of you said a word to the other. Instead, you sat in oddly comfortable silence. Letting the city lights and moonlight leak into the car as you were driven through the bustling metropolis.

Occasionally you’d look over at Eddie, and each time you did would find he was already looking at you. The first couple of times you looked away again, staring back out of the window at the starry night sky, looking at the constellations and trying to figure out what the fuck was happening. You were sitting in the back of a car with Eddie Munson. And he was taking you back to his hotel.

The third time you looked over at Eddie he was moving over to sit right next to you. You shifted slightly so you could look at him without having to twist your neck as far. “Hey” you murmured.

“You know normally by now, you would be sitting on my lap, whilst I feel you up under your clothes.”

“Oh, how romantic” You chirped back.

“What can I say, I’m a modern-day Romeo.”

“Can I say something?” You asked him, breaking eye contact, choosing to look down at your legs instead.

“Fucking hell- I- yeah sure.” His voice was laced with annoyance “You know they normally don’t talk this much either.” Eddie shot back at you.

“Okay well I was gonna say, you’re not as much of an asshole as people make you out to be. But then you kinda were an asshole, so, never mind.”

You looked back up at Eddie to see a grin on his face. “What?” You barked out.

Eddie held his hands up in mock surrender and only held back a laugh at your annoyance. “You love it, sweetheart. Or else you wouldn’t have agreed to meet me, let alone get in the car with me. And come back to my damn hotel room.” His voice dipped much lower than you had heard it all night, it was all smug and had an air of ‘I know I’m hot as fuck and so do you’ about it.

You swallowed and tried to look back out the window, anything to avoid looking right at Eddie. But he lifted his hand and turned your head back to him, once you were looking at him he lowered his hand from your cheek and let it rest on your jaw.

“Now, Can I please kiss you?”

Fucking finally.

You barely had time to nod before his soft lips landed on your own. Barely had time to think before the kiss turned heated, Eddie leaning his head one way and you leaning yours the other so you could be as close as possible.

Noses squished against each other and lips moulding together in perfect rhythm. It was like Eddie had lit a fire in you because you couldn’t get close enough to him. You lifted yourself up and swung your leg over Eddie’s lap, he quickly realised what you were doing and moved his hands to grab your hips, helping you settle on top of him, the whole time not once breaking the kiss.

Your hands went straight to Eddie’s hair and he moved from your hips to your back, letting them feel every part of you, until they eventually went to your hair, too. He took your bottom lip between his teeth and pulled back slightly, causing you to let out the smallest whimper.

He went straight back to making out with you, but you could feel his smirk against your mouth. As your lips moved together you started rocking your hips back and forth, slowly and experimentally.

But it was enough to cause Eddie to let out a groan, which only encouraged you even more, doubling down on your efforts to kiss him, pressing your lips deeper and harder against his, and he only returned the same energy, pushing himself forward and pulling you closer to him, letting his tongue run over your bottom lip, begging for entry.

You parted your lips instantly and he wasted no time letting his tongue meet yours. You tried to fight for some dominance in this situation but he quickly took control. His tongue in your mouth and one hand on the back of your neck, the other holding your hip to control your movements.

It was hot. And you were really fucking needy. You had almost forgotten that some poor driver was sitting directly in front of you, behind the separator. Probably trying to get to the hotel as fast as possible. You didn’t blame him.

You and Eddie were making out like if you didn’t you would die, and honestly, that was exactly what you felt like. Everywhere he touched you left you wanting more and more and more. His kiss ebbed and flowed through you, making you roll your hips against him even more.

His lips on yours left you convinced that you had died and gone to heaven. His tongue exploring your mouth made you feel like your heart was going to beat out of your chest. He knew what he was doing. Of course, he did.

Just as your hips grinding against him was getting erratic, the car stopped. And Eddie pulled away from you instantly. Both of you breathing heavily, you more than him, somehow. Did he have more oxygen in his body or something, what the fuck? You had both had your tongues down each other's throat, how did he seem slightly out of breath and you felt like you were fighting for air? Eddie patted his hands against your hips, signalling for you to get up and out of the car.

The door opened and you stepped out as smoothly as you could, which wasn’t easy when you were just being felt up by a rockstar in the back of the car, but you gave it your best shot. The late spring air caressed your face and you felt yourself relax for the first time all night; moving away from the car as Eddie said something to the driver you stepped onto the lawn in front of the hotel and felt the dew-dropped grass crunch under your shoes.

The hotel was big, fancy, you didn’t feel like you belonged there. You couldn’t even count how many stories high it was, the lit-up windows seemingly going for miles, hypnotising you as you stared up in awe.

Truthfully you were more shocked that the band’s management still let them stay in places as lavish as this, they were renowned for being… destructive. You had heard countless stories of Eddie and his bandmates going back to a hotel drunk or high (most of the time it was both) and destroying their rooms, disturbing the other guests and probably other things they had most likely paid the media not to leak.

Some said that Eddie and others had mellowed out recently, with Eddie turning forty. If you asked Eddie he would take offence to that, and say something precocious like he was “just getting started”. Whatever that meant.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by a hand coming to rest on your lower back, and you knew it was Eddie without having to turn around.

“Come on, I stay out here for too long we’ll be fuckin’ swarmed,” He told you.

“You get a lot of people waiting for you at hotels?” You already knew the answer, you had seen the insanity for yourself on TV. Hundreds of fans crowded the hotel hoping for a glance at the band.

“Yeah, somethin’ like that. They just want me to sign something so they can sell it. I don’t do that shit.” Eddie explained as his security hurried you both into the hotel.

His security led you through the lobby and joined you in the elevator. Which you were pretty sure was the most awkward two minutes of your life. You felt like a little kid being dragged home by her parents and they were too annoyed with you to even hold a conversation. Eddie didn’t seem to mind it though, leaning to the side and resting against the elevator wall, closing his eyes in exasperation when his security murmured something along the lines of “I’ll knock on your door at 9 tomorrow.” Eddie didn’t bother to respond or even show that he had heard him.

Soon the elevator stopped and his security stepped off. He turned around and gave you both a curt nod before letting out a sigh and walking off.

The elevator doors had barely shut, and it hadn’t even started moving again before Eddie was on you. Pushing you back against the wall of the elevator, his hands on your waist, a small sigh left your lips at the speed and energy of it. He dipped his head to your neck and let his lips explore everywhere. Your hands flew up to his hair to keep him pressed against you and when he found your sweet spot you couldn’t stop the moan that slipped out, and you felt Eddie’s mouth turn up into a smirk against your neck.

He was mouthing at your neck like he needed it to breathe, alternating between pressing kisses and sucking at your skin, letting his teeth graze your skin. Soothing the love-bitten skin by running his tongue over it once he was satisfied with his work. You already knew you would have to cover those with makeup for the next few days, or maybe you wouldn’t, letting everyone see Eddie’s mark on you, you hadn’t decided yet.

You were so lost in the feeling of Eddie that you hadn’t heard the sighs and whimpers you were letting out, but Eddie couldn’t miss them if he tried, he thought you sounded angelic.

“Fuck doll, barely even touched you and you’re making such pretty noises f’me” Eddie raised his head to look at you, his lips red and swollen. “Gonna let me see what other noises I can get you to make?” You let out a hum of agreement.

Eddie grabbed your face with one ring-clad hand, forcing you to look at him, and not at his lips (in your defence, you hadn’t even realised you were staring at his lips). “I asked you a question sweetheart.”

He leaned forward so his lips were grazing your ear as he spoke, “I said, are you gonna let me pull even more noises out of you? Answer me, come on pretty girl.”

“Yeah, yeah. Please Eddie I-” The elevator doors opened just as Eddie was laughing at the neediness in your voice.

Eddie’s eyes dipped down to your neck again and then back to yours, before grabbing your hand and dragging you behind him, walking at a considerable pace. He was just as desperate as you were, he was just much better at hiding it.

Eddie opened the door to his room and you had about five seconds to see that you were standing in a hallway, leading off to the multiple rooms. You let your eyes wander around the enormous suite before Eddie was turning around and kissed you, lips smashing desperately against each other. It was the type of kiss that took all the air out of your lungs, your hands grabbing blindly at his jacket, clinging to him like he was your lifeline.

You felt Eddie starting to lead you back and quickly your waist hit the small glass table that was next to the door. You reluctantly broke away from the kiss, turning your head to look down at the table that Eddie seemed to want you to sit on.

“It’s glass,” You said simply.

“Baby that table probably cost more than your rent. S’not gonna break.” Eddie let his hands wander underneath your top, drawing small shapes on your back whilst he waited for you to be where he wanted you.

“Telling me it costs more than my rent is not calming my nerves here!” You exclaimed,

“Would you get on the fucking table so I can eat you out”

Well, when you put it like that.

You placed your hands on either side of you on the table and Eddie lifted your waist to help you up. “Thank you” Eddie drew out the syllables as he spoke, and his voice was laced with sarcasm, you hit his shoulder. His lips turned up in a smile and he reconnected his lips to yours. The kiss was slower this time, but still desperate. Eddie stood between your legs and you were quick to wrap them around his waist, pulling him flush against you, letting him roll his hips against your centre and you moaned against his lips. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, exploring you as you let him take control.

Just as you were about to beg for more Eddie pulled away from your lips and dropped to his knees, placing your legs over his shoulders, dusting light kisses along your thighs. And it was only at that moment that your brain caught up with your body. Eddie Munson was between your thighs, and it felt so right. Your heart was racing and you felt goosebumps on your arms, but you felt so comfortable with him.

Oh shit. Do not fall for him.

This was a bad idea. You knew that.

You should go home.

But he was right there. And he was so pretty.

He had asked for you. He had picked you out of the crowd. And now you were in his hotel room.

You were so fucked.

“Hey, where’d you go?” Eddie ran his hand along your outer thigh, his other coming up to push his hair back off his face.

“I- shit, sorry, I’m okay. Promise” You tried to assure him. You really were okay, this was just a lot.

“We can stop. Or slow down. Jus’ tell me what you need me to do.”

You needed him to go back to being an asshole and make it easier to leave in the morning.

“Need you. Need you to touch me.” You breathed. Eddie bit back a smirk and gently pushed your skirt up around your hips, you felt your breathing speed up already, your legs spreading wider as his soft lips kissed lovebites onto your inside thigh, slowly moving closer to where you so desperately wanted him. He pulled back to admire the purple bruises he had sucked onto your skin, leaning forward again to press light kisses over them. “Eddie, please” your voice came out breathy and quiet, you barely even recognised it as your own.

“What’s wrong sweetheart? You wanted me to touch you, yeah? S’what I’m doin” Eddie was teasing you and you knew it, your fingers gripping the side of the table so firmly that your knuckles were going white.

“Need more.” Was all you could tell him, all of your focus being pulled to where his hands were running up and down your thighs again.

“Tell me doll, you gotta tell me where you need me or I can’t help you baby” you could tell how much he was enjoying your reactions just from the tone of his voice, he was trying to be serious and controlling but you could hear the smile in his voice.

You hummed out in protest and tried to move your hips closer to him, but as soon as he saw you trying to move his grip on your thighs got tighter, stopping you from moving.

“You gotta use your words for me angel or I’m gonna get bored here” Eddie slipped into the dominant persona so naturally that you couldn’t help the pang of guilt that rang through your body at the reminder that he did this with lots of people, you weren’t the first and definitely weren’t going to be the last. And you hated how that thought made you feel.

Not wanting Eddie to notice the way your face dropped for a split second you quickly pushed the thought away and felt the desperation build up again.

“Need your mouth, please- just please Eddie”

“Good girl” You felt heat rush to your cheeks at his words, Eddie noticed too, but he didn’t say anything. Not yet, anyway.

“Can you lift your hips for me darlin? Need to get these pretty panties off you, yeah?” You instantly lifted yourself up as much as you could, as Eddie slipped his hands under and pulled your underwear down your legs, throwing them somewhere behind him once they were off.

You could thank all the gods that Eddie didn’t tease you anymore. He pulled you to the edge of the table and your ankles crossed behind his back in an effort to keep him close to you, certain that if he didn’t touch you right there and then you were going to combust.

Eddie ran a finger along your cunt, finally getting to feel how desperate you really were. “Shit sweetheart, you’re fucking soaked, huh?” You whimpered at his words, not trusting yourself enough with words. “Yeah? s’okay I’ve got you, gonna make you feel so good I promise” Eddie dipped his finger against your entrance, gathering your wetness before going straight for your clit, rubbing slow circles right over that sweet spot. Your hips bucked at the small movement and Eddie looked up at you, his brown eyes peeking out from behind his overgrown bangs.

The amount of need he saw in your eyes was almost enough to make him pick you up and carry you to his bed there and then, but he was a firm believer in the more fucked out someone was before he had even fucked them, the better the sex. So, he fought every instinct in his body and dropped his eyes back to your cunt, finally attaching his mouth to you, making you mewl and whimper above him, immediately moving one of your hands to hold his head against your core, your fingers tangling into his curls.

Eddie knew what he was doing, his tongue running along your slit and moving up to suck on your clit, shaking his head whenever he did, causing you to throw your head back, eyes shut so tightly it almost hurt. Every time he felt your thighs tighten around him, or heard your breathing speed up, he pulled off your clit and went back to running his tongue through your cunt, stopping you from getting to where you really needed to be, but still feeling fucking ridiculous.

“Eddie- need your fingers, please” You begged him, you just needed to feel more of him.

He pulled back and smiled up at you “Look at you baby, using your words to tell me what you need.” As he said it he gently ran one finger along your cunt, dipping it inside you slightly in an attempt to work you open, but you were so needy he really didn’t need to.

His words made you clench around nothing and all you could do was mewl out longing pleases and eddies. Reciting his name like a mantra.

He whispered out little shh shh shh’s as he made delicate work of slipping his middle finger inside you. Of course, you had touched yourself before, but Eddie touching you surpassed anything you had ever made yourself feel. Just one of his fingers was enough to stretch you out, but you still needed more.

“More please- please” You couldn’t take your eyes off of Eddie, at how he couldn’t take his eyes off your cunt, where his finger was dipping in and out of you “I got you angel”.

Eddie slipped another finger inside you, it felt uncomfortable for a second and your eyebrows scrunched together as you tried to adjust to his fingers inside you. But that dull ache was soon relieved when Eddie curled his two fingers up inside you, hitting that spot that you had never been able to reach, or anyone else you had slept with had been able to reach. He kept a steady rhythm, not pulling his fingers in and out anymore, instead, he just kept curling his fingers perfectly each time. It had you seeing stars and your breath caught in your throat as you tried to calm yourself down.

“Yeah? That feel good, baby?” Eddie teased, lapping his tongue against your clit again, forcing you to let out the prettiest string of moans he had ever heard. “Fuck doll, anyone ever made you feel like this before, huh?” You were so fucked out already you just shook your head, trying to push his head back down, a silent plea for him to put his mouth back on you.

“No? That’s a fucking crime sweetheart. None of the boys your age are doing it for you huh?” Little whimpers and moans let him know the answer to his question without you having to say anything. The man was a menace, holding a conversation with you whilst he had two fingers curled inside you.

Oh, and you finally had an answer to your earlier question. He did keep his rings on whilst he fingered someone. Which you were ever so grateful for. It was the hottest thing you had ever seen or felt. The metal of his rings rubbing against you had your eyes rolling back into your head.

“Just needed someone who knew what they were doing to touch you, right?” Eddie was definitely a talker. Not that you were complaining, especially since you could barely string two words together right now.

He continued lapping at your clit whilst his fingers worked inside you, your moans getting louder by the minute. If you weren’t so busy with Eddie’s head between your legs you might be worried about getting a noise complaint from the other poor guests who could probably hear you.

You felt that coil in your stomach start to tighten and you let your hand that was resting on Eddie’s head pull oh his hair, eliciting a groan from him, his eyes searching for yours and when he found them screwed closed he used his free hand to grab one of yours and hold it, letting you know he knew you were close.

“Can you let go for me angel, hm? Come on, I got you”

That was all it took for the coil to snap, your whole body felt like it was burning, in the best way. Your grip on Eddie’s hand got tighter as he worked you through it, his fingers slowing down but not stopping, his thumb rubbing circles over your clit. All you could do was moan and whimper above him, letting out a stream of oh gods and don’t stop. Eddie was saying something to you, you could hear his muffled voice but your ears were ringing and everything was too much but you never wanted it to stop.

Until suddenly it all became too much, your legs instinctively trying to close, hand coming down to move Eddie’s away from you. He picked up on your change in demeanour instantly and slowly took his fingers out of you, pressing small kisses to your knee as he let you calm down.

“Fuck, Eddie-” Was all you could say when you’re senses came back to you.

You realised you were still holding Eddie’s hand, but you didn’t make any moves to let go. Neither did he.

“Yeah? Not bad for an old man, huh?” Eddie chirped.

“Fuck off, you’re forty. That’s not that old” You retaliated, watching as Eddie stood up from where he had knelt before you.

“Oh well thank you, sweetheart.” His voice dripped with sarcasm as he pushed your hair away from your face. A gesture that felt oddly romantic given the way you had found yourselves in this situation.

Eddie moved to slot his lips over yours, taking your bottom lip between his and sucking. You melted into the kiss and ran your tongue over his bottom lip, begging for entrance. He let you take control for a few seconds before he slipped his tongue into your mouth and you tasted yourself on him. The whimper that you let out was downright pornographic but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed.

“Fuck sweetheart, wrap your legs around me” Eddie’s voice was raspy and it cut through you like a knife, you didn’t even ask him why before you had your legs tightly holding onto his waist. He wasted no time picking you up from the table and carrying you to the bedroom, taking extra care to lie you gently down on the bed in the middle of the room, crawling to hover above you and attach his lips to your neck, sucking right onto your pulse point, causing a desperate moan to leave you.

Your legs tightened around him and he ground his hips down into you, his desperation was evident even though he was trying hopelessly to seem calm and collected. But with you lying underneath him that seemed to be impossible. With his head buried in your neck as he desperately worked to leave you covered in as many marks as possible, you tried to shift his weight off you so you could flip yourselves over. But he just tightened his grip on your waist, and hand that he still hadn’t let go off. Keeping you firmly pinned to the mattress.

“Eddie, I- oh fuck” he ground his hips down against you as you began speaking, stealing the breath from your lungs. “Eddie, do you not want me to…” Your confidence suddenly slipped again, you wanted to offer to suck his dick. But you had only given head a couple of times, each time being to a guy your age who was probably just grateful to have a girl on her knees in front of him. Eddie was older, and a world-famous rockstar. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself. But you really wanted to taste him.

“What is it doll?” Eddie pushed as he dusted light kisses across your jaw, rubbing circles over the slip of skin that was exposed where your t-shirt had ridden up.

“Can I- can I suck your dick?” Your voice was small and Eddie couldn’t tell if you were just nervous or if you didn’t actually want to.

“You don’t have to sweetheart, don’t worry about it.” Either way, he wasn’t going to let you do something unless he was absolutely positive that you really wanted to. He dipped back down and pulled you into a long, deep kiss. Your hands flew to the back of his neck as you kissed him back, all tongue and teeth, but you wouldn’t want it any other way.

“I want to though” You insisted, barely moving your lips off of Eddie’s. Eddie’s long hair fell around you both, cutting you off from being able to see anything other than his face as he leaned over you.

Eddie still wasn’t sure, he noticed the way your hands that you had on the back of his neck had moved so you could mess with your fingers. He didn’t know you well enough to know if that was a nervous habit of yours, but it was one of his, so he took a safe guess that you were probably more nervous than you were letting on.

“S’okay doll. Honestly, if I get your mouth on me this’ll be over a lot quicker than either of us want.” He moved to rest all his waist on one hand, the other moving to push your t-shirt up, he looked up at you to make sure that was okay and when you nodded with way too much enthusiasm, he let out a quiet laugh and lifted your t-shit off you, lowering himself to place kisses down your chest and stomach.

Feeling his lips on your skin sent a bolt of electricity shooting through your body and suddenly all you needed was to feel him inside you. You whimpered and grabbed the back of the top he was still wearing, you hadn’t even noticed he had already taken off his leather jacket. Eddie soon realised what you wanted, sitting back on his haunches to pull his top over his head.

Your eyes dropped down to stare at Eddie, his pale body covered in tattoos, across his chest and arms. Your hand impulsively reaching out to trace over them. Eddie smiled and picked up your other arm, dotting little kisses up and down it. You lowered your hand that had been tracing over his tattoos and began to undo his belt, frustration quickly building as you couldn’t get it undone.

Eddie noticed how your brows knitted together and felt a pang of adoration in his chest at how sweet you looked lying below him. He took both of your hands in his as he guided your hands to help you undo his belt, breathing out a small “good girl” as you let his fingers guide yours.

Once you had both undone it Eddie reluctantly pulled away from you and stood up to push his jeans and underwear off, grabbing a condom from the bedside table. You pushed your skirt off and when you looked back up at Eddie your gaze dropped down and your breath hitched in your throat. He was… big. You felt your whole body tense up as you realised you had never been with someone that big before. Two of his fingers alone were enough to feel a lingering pressure in your stomach.

Eddie leaned back down over you and pressed a gentle kiss on your lips, his hand caressing the apple of your cheek as you widened your legs more and he settled between them comfortably.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Eddie whispered as he moved to adjust your legs around him and grab a pillow from the bed. “Can you lift your hips-” You moved slightly so Eddie could place the pillow below you. “Thank you, baby” He praised you as you followed his instructions instantly.

“D’you still want this?” Eddie asked suddenly, his voice dropping back to his normal tone, rather than the more controlling, deeper one he had been speaking with before. You nodded your head quickly and muttered out a little “please” as he carefully watched your face.

Your enthusiasm seemed to please him enough to carry on, and he kissed you once more before moving his hand down to guide himself into you. He ran his cock through your folds and groaned at the wetness he found there “Shit doll, you need it bad huh?” You moaned out as the head of his cock hit your bundle of nerves, bucking your hips up and digging your fingers into the bed. He shushed you and pushed your hips back down “I really gotta teach you some patience angel.” He told you as he ground his hips forward, grinding over your dripping cunt but not pushing in.

“Just so desperate for someone to finally fuck you how you need aren’t you?” Your head lolled to the side as he kept grinding into you, hitting your clit each time. “Uh uh, eyes on me sweetheart.”

You used all the energy you could muster to lift your head back to a position where you could look right at Eddie. “There she is, I’m not even inside you yet and you look fucked out, this enough for you?” Eddie cooed. “Don’t even need my cock inside you, do you?” The desperate cry that came from the back of your throat at his words almost made Eddie feel bad, but you sounded so pretty. “No no, please- fuck please.” Your legs tightened around his waist in protest to what he just said, Eddie bit back a smirk and let out a “yeah?” in fake pity.

“Need you inside me fuck- just please Eddie I–” Your cries were getting more desperate by the second and Eddie shushed you as he lined himself up at your entrance, pressing a light kiss to your neck to soothe you. “Okay angel, I hear you. Gonna make you feel so good, I promise.”

Eddie began to push inside of you, but only got so far before you let out a sound that sounded far too close to discomfort for him. He stopped moving and looked up to see your eyes closed tightly. “Hey, hey, look at me, come on.” You had never heard his voice that soft before, but you did what he asked, looking at him.

“You okay?” He asked, concern laced in his voice.

“M’okay, you’re just… bigger than I’m used to” A cocky grin spread across Eddie’s voice at your words and you gently pushed on his shoulder. His ego didn’t need to be any bigger than it already was.

“You want me to stop? I can eat you out again if you want?” He sounded so sincere that when you went to open your mouth to respond you couldn’t think of anything, so caught off guard by ‘asshole rockstar eddie’ being the exact opposite of what everyone knew him as.

“Sweetheart? You with me?” He held your face in his hand and rubbed his thumb along your jaw.

“Yeah um– no just keep going, please, I just needed a second to get used to it” You told him, a small laugh from you making him relax again. He attached his lips to yours and kissed you dizzy. A deep kiss that had you whimpering softly against his lips and distracted you from the pressure of Eddie pushing into you again.

“Fuck you’re so tight doll” Eddie said against your lips. The pressure built up again and you held onto his shoulder, digging your nails into the skin there.

“You’ve gotta relax for me angel, okay? Deep breaths, yeah?” Eddie whispered against your jaw, desperately trying to hold himself back from slamming into you, but you felt so good already.

You nodded and took a deep breath, but it was Eddie attaching his mouth back onto the sweet spot on your neck and sucking that relaxed you the most. The need that overtook you let Eddie finally bottom out, both of you letting out filthy moans at the feeling. “Fuck good girl, there you go, feel so fucking good” Eddie praised you, not moving yet, giving you time to adjust to him inside you. But you were sure that if he didn’t move soon you were going to cry.

“Eddie please move, I’m okay– Need you to fuck me” You begged. He pulled up from where he was tracing kisses down your throat, readjusting himself to rest on his forearms either side of your head.

Eddie pulled his hips and back and pushed all the way back in, your legs secured around his waist, keeping him as close to you as possible. The way he grinded his hips into you had you seeing stars, soft whimpers falling from your lips every time he pressed into you harder and deeper.

At one particular thrust you let out the the most pornographic moan you had ever heard yourself make, making Eddie fuck you harder, making sure to hit that spot deep inside of you that no one else had ever reached before. Your cunt clenched around him at the sensation and he let out a deep groan from the back of his throat, his hips faltering for a second before he pushed back into you even harder than before. “Fucking Jesus– shit y/n you can’t do that to me” he moaned out “Gonna make me come so fuckin’ fast, you’re so tight already oh my god– .” He was just talking to distract himself from his impending orgasm at this point, determined to make you come before him.

You and Eddie found a perfect rhythm after a while, your hips rolling against his as he kept hitting that sweet spot inside you. Your eyes closed and Eddie wasn’t having any of it, repeatedly telling you to look at him. But no matter how many times he said it your eyes would inevitably close again, too overcome with pleasure to focus on anything else.

Eddie brought his hand to your neck and simply rested it there, giving you the freedom to tell him to stop or move it if you didn’t like it. But when your hand moved to rest over his and you looked up at him with fucked-out eyes, he tightened his hold on your neck and you cried out. “Yeah? You like that, you just need someone to be a little rough with you huh?” Eddie teased, “It’s okay, just wanna be treated like a whore sometimes is that right? God you’re so fucking good for me doll”. His hand kept a firm hold across your throat, making sure to squeeze in the correct places so he didn’t cut off your air supply completely, but gave you that feeling of euphoria you craved.

It was all too much, but not enough at the same time. Your arousal covering your cunt and things, the noises were filthy but it felt so good that you weren’t embarrassed by how you could hear how wet you were each time Eddie drove his cock into you. Your thighs were numb around Eddie’s waist, your hips burning as you felt that coil tightening in your stomach again. His hand around your throat pinning you to the bed was your last straw, you felt tears prickling at the corner of your eyes from how good you felt.

“Fuck Eddie– I’m gonna-” You tried to tell him, his grip on your neck loosening slightly, making it easier for you to speak.

“You’re gonna come again angel?” You nodded, whimpers and moans falling from your lips. Eddie moved his hand from around your neck, moving it between your two bodies until he placed two fingers over your clit, rubbing fast circles over it.

Your back arched off the bed and your mouth hung open in a silent scream. “There you go, good fucking girl.” Eddie exclaimed, watching you in adoration as you came undone beneath him for the second time that night.

You didn’t even know how long your orgasm lasted, but Eddie worked you through it until you came back around. Looking up at him above you, damp hair clinging to his forehead, kiss-bitten lips parted as he let out quiet moans at the feel of your cunt around him, you could see how desperate he was to come.

“God, can you turn over for me doll” Eddie asked, but he was already pulling out of you and gripping your hips to put you in the position he wanted you. Your legs felt like they were going to give out any minute, but you didn’t care. You moved onto your front and Eddie pulled your hips back against him as your back arched up, burying your face into the pillow in front of you. Eddie slipped back in and you practically screamed out at the overstimulation, but you never wanted him to stop.

“God that’s it– gonna come soon angel, doing so well for me.” Eddie’s voice came out raspy and his voice broke at the end. You only pushed your hips back into him harder.

You felt Eddie still inside of you as he came hard and fast, not bothering to hold back the tidal wave of moans and groans that left his lips as his orgasm washed over him. His hands holding your hips so tightly you wouldn't be surprised if there were bruises there in the morning.

He took a minute to compose himself before he pulled out of you, you whimpered at the feeling and he whispered comforting sh-sh-sh’s and apologised repeatedly. You managed to gather enough energy to turn yourself back over. Eddie walked back over to the bed, his boxers already back on. He knelt on the end of the bed and pulled some tissues from the table nearby. “Open your legs for me doll” You did as he asked, letting out little gasps as he cleaned you up, still sensitive from everything that had just happened. “You want a top to sleep in? Or…” Eddie asked, slightly more abrupt than you had been expecting, but you figured it was just the comedown after sex.

“Yeah please” you answered quietly, reaching out to grab one of his tops he had already gone to get for you. You threw it, and your underwear, back on. Not entirely sure of what happened now, but when Eddie simply turned off the lamps around the room and climbed into bed you followed his lead and he only reached over to pull you across him as he fell asleep.

There weren’t any more words exchanged between the two of you as you finally drifted off to sleep, limbs tangled together.

You woke up to the morning sun beating through the windows. The spring sun sitting high in the sky, lighting the room up in a near-magical way. You awoke in almost the same position you had fallen asleep in, except now you were facing away from Eddie, instead of being buried in his still bare chest.

You yawned quietly and stretched your arm above you, careful not to wake Eddie. This was all still so surreal. Your eyes scanned the room you had woken up in, being able to take in your surroundings properly for the first time.

Your gaze was drawn to the living room that was directly across from the bedroom, there were no doors leading to the two rooms, instead being replaced instead by overly-sized archways which allowed you to see right through the bedroom to the living room. The rooms were only separated by the wide hallway.

The living room was ginormous, and one wall was simply a massive window, overlooking the city skyline, it was beautiful, you couldn't deny that. The couch sat in the middle of the room with a glass coffee table in front of it, decorated with magazines and a vase of flowers. You took a wild guess that those were always there, you didn’t imagine Eddie was requesting for flowers to be put in his room.

A tv sat on the other side of the room, with various other decorative pieces scattered around, the most eye-catching was the massive rug that covered most of the floor. The dim lights illuminated the elegance of the place, and you couldn’t help but feel this place was the opposite of Eddie.

You felt your stomach drop at the realisation that you still didn’t understand Eddie. He had been perfect last night, it felt like something out of a romance novel where the guy is the perfect man, attentive and caring. But he wasn’t like that at the start of the night, and by the end of the night he didn’t say another word to you.

Before you could overthink it anymore a loud knock rang through the suite. You remembered Eddie’s security saying he would come over in the morning, but Eddie wasn’t stirring. You considered shaking him awake, but just as you were about to turn over and wake him another knock came from the door. Louder this time, followed by a deep voice calling out Eddie’s name, saying something like “Get your ass up and out of bed or I swear to god–”

That seemed to cut through even Eddie’s deepest sleep and you felt the bed dip as Eddie begrudgingly got up and padded over to open the door before it was knocked down. You didn’t think he had noticed you were awake too, so you didn’t move, instead staying in bed and listening to the conversation happening down the hall.

“Ah! He’s still alive, that’s always good to know, makes my job easier.” you heard the sarcastic remarks of Eddie’s security, hearing humor in his voice for the first time.

“Do you like pissing me off this early in the morning, John? Or is it a happy accident?” Eddie retaliated, sounding much too like a sullen teenager for a forty year old man.

“Happy accident. Is the young lady awake or do you want me to come back?” John asked, peering behind Eddie trying to catch a glimpse of you. He couldn’t of course, you still hadn’t moved from the bed.

“No she’s uh– asleep.” Eddie’s voice got quieter as he said something else to John. So quiet you didn’t hear the rest of the conversation, just the door shutting about a minute later, and Eddie’s footsteps as he made his way back to the bedroom.

Your eyes met as he walked in and you sat up on the edge of the bed, ankles crossed as you placed your hands behind you, leaning back. You saw Eddie carrying the clothes that had been left in the hallway the night before, placing them down on the bed and nodding his head in acknowledgment.

“He’s like a grumpy dad or something” you tried to joke, letting out a feeble attempt at a laugh. Not that he was even old enough to be Eddie’s dad, in fact he was probably only a couple years older than him.

“Uh-huh.” Was all Eddie said, but you thought you saw him tense up. So, you took your second wild guess of the morning that maybe you shouldn’t bring up parents with Eddie, seemingly a sore subject for him.

That was something else about Eddie. He had been in the public eye for nearly fifteen years now, and yet no one knew anything about his life before. Literally, nothing. You figured that had to be deliberate, there was no way no one had found out anything about him, or what his life was like before, but if they had, they had probably been paid off to keep their mouths shut. You couldn’t imagine why, almost every rockstar had a dodgy past, scandals and an arrest record were commonplace. They didn’t care about any of that, but Eddie was different.

Eddie’s morning voice cut through your thoughts. “John will uh, be back in like two minutes. So, you can get dressed if you want.”

Oh.

You watched Eddie as he threw on a pair of jeans and a top, not bothering to look at you as he all but told you to leave. “He’s already called a cab for you so– yeah.” You wanted to say something, ask him something, anything. But you didn’t know what.

This was what he did. You had known this going into it.

Instead you threw on your clothes from the day before, barely having time to put your shoes on before there was a knock on the door. Your head flew up to see Eddie was already staring at you as he leant against the archway to the living room. He quickly turned away as your eyes met and he pushed himself off the wall to walk over and open the door. You followed far behind, standing halfway down the hallway, holding back tears you could feel forming. You were so fucking stupid.

As soon as the door opened John saw you stood there. You swear you saw something like pity flash in his eyes before he went back to his usual, somewhat angry, demeanor. “I’m gonna go see if the other guys are up yet, need to talk to them about some changes for tonights show.” Eddie’s voice was quiet but you could hear it all the same. John just nodded and moved to the side to let Eddie past.

You thought he would say goodbye to you.

Say something before he left.

He didn’t.

He left you standing in his hotel room, his security guard waiting to walk you to the cab waiting for you outside. Your stomach dropped at the realisation that you weren’t any different to the others. That he probably spoke to everyone the way he had spoken to you, looked at them the way he looked at you.

It would have killed you to realise that he didn’t speak to everyone like that, and he certainly didn’t look at everyone the same way he looked at you. And he knew that, and it scared the shit out of him.

So he left.

authors note my loves! this took me far too long to write so i hope you enjoyed it, at least a little bit <3 i apologise for any spelling or grammar mistakes but i'm posting this at 2am so it is what it is. also, this is still only my second ever fic, so please go easy on me, i'm way too sensitive <3 okay bye love you

taglist @squidwards-fave-tentacle @hbaramas @cardiganquinn @etherealeddie @eddies-girl-22 @tlclick73 @c0untryclub @eddiemunson95 @thatfantagirl @icant-hangout-imdrumming

6K notes · View notes

delusionalwh6re · 7 months ago

Text

teach me

aged up!neteyam x fem omatikaya!reader

summary: as your friend group becomes more sexually advanced you decide to turn to one of your closest friends for help

warnings: 🔞 smut with a plot, p in v, dom but sweet teyam, oral (f receiving), virginity loss, fingering, sexual fantasies and conversation, and dirty talk

“the two of you did WHAT?” li’ona gasped as her eyes widened in shock

rey’eng giggled as she playfully slapped li’ona on the shoulder “you heard me”

the girls started to whisper and start discussing their own hookups. you were sat with your group of friends like you usually did. all of you would meet up every other moon to catch up, discuss duties, gossip, and as you got older talks of.. sex

out of all of your friends you seemed to be the least experienced. your friends knew this about you and never judged you for it. they always gave you advice for when your special day would happen whenever it did. you were grateful but couldn’t help but feel left out

“hey!” kiri jumped up out of nowhere scaring the other girls as she made her appearance known

you giggled at their reactions “hi kiri”

“y/n!!” she cheered before taking a seat next to you “what a bunch of scaredy cats..”

you let out a laugh as she laughed along with you

“so what are you guys talking about?” kiri asked as your laughter died down

the girls started to get silent as conversations defused and your eyes widened a bit at the information rey’eng just shared

kiri side eyed everyone before rolling her eyes “okay i know you guys just heard what i said”

she turned to you and all of sudden you couldn’t help but look into the sky and admire all of the beautiful ikrans.. have they always been that gorgeous?

you kept looking up until kiri eventually stopped burning a hole into the side of your face

“well..” li’ona started before looking at the girls faces who seemed to be a bit scared

rey’eng finally blurted out “i hooked up with someone in the clan”

kiri widened her eyes with a gasp “with who?”

li’ona sucked in a deep breath before looking at rey’eng who gave her a fake encouraging smile

“well it starts with lo and ends with ‘ak” she sighed

“you fucked my BROTHER?” kiri raised her voice as she immediately put the pieces together

well that was funny to witness. later on, you and kiri decided to do your own thing. apparently there was this party that she heard was happening so she being the curious girl that she was wanted to check it out

“you don’t wanna go huh?” she looked up and down at your tired like state

“don’t take it personal” you smiled at her with sympathy

“don’t worry girl, i know you did all those chores earlier and had a long day. maybe next time?” she rubbed your shoulder

you smiled at her cheekily “i love you”

“everyone does” she sassed

you stuck your tongue out at her before you guys pulled each other into a hug and said goodnight

as you guys went your separate ways you felt a bit more at peace. the walk to your marui wasn’t too far so you enjoyed the quietness before entering your home. once you entered you immediately went into your sacred space which was your room to finally have some time for yourself

you took off all of your garments and jewelry before making your way to your makeshift bed. you grabbed a book that norm gifted to you and a candle before finally relaxing

however it didn’t last long because all of a sudden you heard a noise outside. your ears perked up and you waited in silence to see if the noise would happen again

“hello? y/n! i know you’re still awake” a voice whispered

you smiled as you recognized that voice and immediately got up. you walked over to the little space where you had a ‘window’ to look outside

“hi neteyam” you smiled looking down at him, you find it only a little amusing how small he looked all the way down on the ground and couldn’t help but laugh to yourself

he smiled up at you “hey pretty girl”

you playfully rolled your eyes at the nickname. he had been calling you that for years now. you and neteyam had been friends for the longest, even considered yourselves best friends. there were many nights when the two of you would meet up to hang out. you felt so safe around him, he genuinely brought you peace

you guys continued smiling at each other as he made his way up to your room. his tail hitting a few of your things causing it to knock down

“oh, im sorry” he rambled as he picked up your stuff while more things fell down with every movement of his tail

in his defense the area was quite small for such a big man like him so you found this very funny

“geez tey, did you lose control over your tail or what?” you knelt down helping him pick up the things he knocked over

he laughed at you which led to the two of you laughing like children at his foolishness. the laughter started to die down as the both of you reached for your bracelet that had fallen. both your hands touched causing you to slightly gasp and look up at him

“sorry about that” he whispered, his tone raspy as he was now only a few inches from your face

you and neteyam had been close before but this time felt so different. much more intimate.. you didn’t know what it was but you were starting to have a feeling

“it’s okay” you whispered

the two of you held eye contact which felt like forever before he awkwardly broke it “man, everyone is at that fucking party”

“really? i mean i kinda assumed since it’s never THIS quiet. kiri told me about that and i guess everyone took this advantage and ran with it” you shrugged making your way back over to your bed

he chuckled “guess so, i was just over there and it’s actually kinda fun”

you tilted your head “so why’d you leave?”

“because my favorite girl wasn’t there” he shot you the most cheesiest smile making his way over to you

“you’re so CORNY” you laughed flicking his arm

“whatever, you love me though” he leaned down trapping your thighs between his arms as he leaned over you

“believe whatever you want mighty warrior” you bit your lip with a smirk

he hummed slightly shaking his head while eyeing you up and down. a smirk slowly approaching his face before opening his mouth to say something until he stopped

“what’s that?” he noticed a purple sparkly book on your shelf above your bed

you turned your head to look back at what he saw. your eyes widened at the very obvious diary you had sticking out. you hurriedly scrambled to try to hide it before it was snatched right out of your sight

you felt your stomach starting to burn up at the thought of him holding your most sacred secrets and desires..

“neteyam! give it back!” you jumped up trying to reach for it

he got up moving away from you “why are you acting so weird? we never keep shit from each other”

you huffed “okay well this is different! that’s personal”

he squinted his eyes at you before a smirk grew on his face “what are you hiding?”

you felt your body heat up because you knew exactly what was in there. you had these.. feelings for neteyam ever since you guys became friends. but as the older you guys got they only grew stronger. some of these feelings even making you feel things around your body… you didn’t know what they meant but all you knew was every time he was in your vicinity you got tingles

“teyam! it’s really nothing seriously” you started to throw a tantrum like a child

he wasn’t buying it at all “mhm, whatever, here” his face went blank as he handed you back your diary

you felt a pinge of pain in your heart as he did so. what neteyam had said was true, the two of you never kept secrets from each other. so to him it looks like you’re hiding something or your friendship was starting to grow apart

“nete im sorry it’s just-” you were cut off by a piece of paper all of a sudden dropping out of the book

you felt your soul drop into the core of your asshole as neteyam of course decided to pick it up. once he did he handed it straight to you without looking at it, but curiosity got the best of him and at the last second he caught a glimpse of it..

he snatched the paper from you and got closer to get a better look. you watched in pure horror as his tail shot up in an act of alert and his eyes widened

“i can explain” you started to ramble “it’s not what it looks like i swear. im not a freak i promise”

he laughed to himself quietly “oh yes you are”

his eyes finally met yours and his smile dropped. there was a silence, and to you it was very awkward…

“say something” you shut your eyes tightly to avoid his cold gaze

you body shivered as you heard nothing but his breathing and body movements getting closer. once his chest was practically onto yours he stopped. there was nothing but quiet now until he decided to speak up

the side of his face went past yours as he began to whisper in your ear “why are you drawing pictures of me naked y/n?”

your eyes opened to be met with his golden yellow ones looking straight into yours. your breath immediately hitched at the closeness between you two. your heart was thumping against your chest and you couldn’t help but think about all the times you guys had a ‘moment’

his hands sneakily snuck to the back of your slim waist to give it a light squeeze “i asked you something”

“neteyam please..” you started melting under his touch

“please what syulang?” his hand moved the free braid out of your face to get a good look at you

your hand reached up to grip his “i need your help”

“my help?” his face scrunched up. he didn’t have much time before you had dragged him onto the softness of your bed

“what do you need my help with?” he asked again as his eyes scanned your body. he felt like you were being really strange and he just wanted you to fess up to him

“can you teach me how to.. touch? wait just hear me out! it’s really random but i feel comfortable with you. i love you and you make me feel safe. i just want to learn” your eyes finally met his as you went on your rant

his body stiffened and he tried his hardest not to laugh at you because he knew you would get upset. the last thing he wanted was to make you back down from any of your desires because you felt he didn’t believe in you. that wasn’t the case in your friendship

he bit his tongue before opening his mouth to speak “where is all of this coming from?”

you sighed and sat next to him “all of my friends! they’re always talking about fucking and sucking. i feel left out i really do. i haven’t done anything besides kissing.. and i know you aren’t a virgin. it’s just like everyone around me is growing up and im stuck in time you know?”

he was obviously taken back by what you had said because he didn’t even think about it like that. he was your best friend so he had never looked at you any different. in his eyes you just weren’t ready and he didn’t see a problem with that

“y/n, i love you, i really do but im not taking your virginity” he shook his head and looked down at his lap

you frowned a bit and thankfully he didn’t see it “why not?” your body turned to face him completely to get his full reaction

“because, that’s supposed to be special. why would i take that away from you? you mean a lot to me and the last thing i wanna do is make you feel anything less” he shrugged all of a sudden finding your blanket very interesting as he traced his finger on it

you squinted your eyes at him “was your first time special?” you had only known about this because your friends are a bunch of mouth runners and one day mentioned this girl who had relations to neteyam

he actually never told you about this so you assumed he had a secret girlfriend on the low. your assumptions seemed to be somewhat correct as your friends ‘updated’ you. they told you about the multiple times they saw them together and how they could be fuckin’ around

as your question sunk in his brain he thought about it, he really did. then the realization hit him. his first time wasn’t really special either. he made it special for the girl of course but on his end it came.. naturally?

he didn’t feel the need to take things slow. mainly because it was after a party and the two of them were tipsy. so things happened and the next day neteyam didn’t really feel anything, he didn’t know how to explain it which is why he never even told you

“y/n, please just think first” his hand grabbed yours

“answer my question” your voice came off as stern

he scoffed and stood up “okay fix your tone, this isn’t some game. this is serious. i don’t want you to regret this”

you copied his actions and stood up “regret this? neteyam you’re the only man i’ve ever wanted! why do you think i haven’t done anything?”

his body stiffened up “really?” he walked closer to you and you smiled

“of course, ever since that day i almost drowned in the river and you jumped in to save me” you laughed as you stopped to think about the memory

“then my dumbass started drowning too because neither of us could swim” he laughed along with you

you covered your mouth as you started to snort “and your dad had to come save both of us. i always find it cute you did that though. you really tried your best”

he smiled “yeah i never let you go. i thought if this girl goes out im going out with her. even if it was at the ripe age of 12”

you giggled placing your arms around his neck bringing him closer “yeah, it’s always been us huh?”

“always” he licked his lips wrapping his arms around your waist looking deep into your eyes

there was a comfortable silence between the two of you. not like before when it was awkward at the beginning of this conversation. not like any times before this either, it was a look of love and lust

“are you sure?” he whispered his features softening as he looked at your face

“with every bone in my body” you leaned closer ghosting your lips against his

his eyes made their way down to look at your lips before looking back up at your eyes “lay down”

your stomach turned hearing his words and tone of voice. your feet slowly made its way back to your bed. moving backwards you still held eye contact with him as your head filled with dirty thoughts

you could tell he was thinking about similar things too just by the way he was looking at you with low eyes and while biting his bottom lip with anticipation. the back of your knee hit the frame of your bed so you laid down letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding

in a mere couple of seconds, he was hovering over you. his arms trapped your head as he admired you from above “what do you want me to do?”

you threw your head back “don’t make me say it”

“nah, you wanted to learn right?” he teased

“teach me everything” you breathed out

he hummed slowly looking down at your bodies on one another. becoming satisfied as he noticed your hips moving upward impatiently silently telling him where you want him

“down there? you wanna be touched down there?” he looked back up at you

“please” you whimpered

“perfect start” he kissed the crease of your neck causing you to gasp. slowly he made his way down the rest of your body starting with your chest and ending with your navel

his veiny hands made its way down to the side of your thighs. he made sure to kiss every single inch of your lower half making you feel praised. unlike the times he had sex, he was gonna make this time special with you. for the both of you

“can i take this off?” he kissed the top of your pussy through your loincloth

“yes, yes you can” your back arched slightly at the contact

he hummed in satisfaction before untying the strings. once he did, his hands lifted you up by your ass to slide it down your thighs and legs. his ears perked up as your scent became stronger. he looked between your thighs to see them covered in your own slick

you were extremely embarrassed by how reactive you were being but you couldn’t help it…

you felt neteyam staring at you and refused to look down. you knew you would be met with a cocky smirk on that gorgeous face of his. so you closed your eyes waiting for him to do whatever he planned

he laughed quietly before dragging his fingers along your inner thighs. each second moving closer and closer to your core, your breathing got less steady. he started by letting a finger swiftly glide up your slit. this caused you to shut your eyes tighter as a gasp left your mouth. he slowly played with your flesh trying to get you used to the feeling before going in for more

“mhm” you hummed as he added another finger gradually moving faster

“you like that?” his breath hitting your core

you breathed out arching your back slightly “yes”

his other hand worked its way to the side of your thigh to caress slowly “tell me what you want baby, you gotta talk to me”

your breathing stopped to gather your thoughts. your mind felt fuzzy and his fingers weren’t helping. every movement he made had you feeling mushy and he didn’t even hit any spots yet

“i want your mouth on me, please tey” you whined

“yeah? that’s what you’ve been thinkin’ about huh?” he slowly pushed a finger in your hole causing you to moan

“yes!” your thighs tried to close around his hand at the sudden pleasure

“nuh uh, keep ‘em open” he demanded moving his free hand to pry your thighs open

“okay, okay” you reached down to grab the back of your thigh fighting the urge to clamp them shut

“good girl” he placed a sloppy kiss directly on your clit causing a wave of euphoria all throughout your body

“neteyam!” you moaned loudly throwing your head back

he kept placing kisses while curling his finger inside of you. your slick easily letting him slip it right through you with no issue. moving his digit faster and faster. as time passed he found it reasonable to add his second finger. your hips thrusting against nothing as the feeling of his fingers curled against your gummy walls

“oh shit” you finally opened your eyes to look down at him

his tongue swirled all around your bud in circular motions. his eyes caught onto yours as he increased the pace of his movements. he made sure to make it sloppy, backing up slightly to spit onto your clit before diving right back in. before you knew it, he was completely devouring you

clamping his entire mouth onto your bud just to suck on it like a pacifier. now having all three of his fingers inside of you stretching you out perfectly. you were in complete bliss

“ouu!! tey, oh my gosh, FUCK” you squealed reaching down to grab onto anything. his hair being the first option. you grabbed onto his braids tightly. he seemed to like it too because a moan was muffled right against your pussy

you let out a moan at the vibrations. your moaning getting louder and louder as his mouth went to work on you. you started to feel an odd feeling in your stomach and tried pulling him away

“teyam, babe, i feel weird” you squirmed around trying to push him away

he only moved back slightly “you’re about to cum” his lips were swollen but he didn’t seem to care because right after he said that he went right back to eating you like you were his last meal

“shit” your thighs slightly shook as the knot in your stomach grew tighter and tighter. you squeezed your thighs around his head. grinding your pussy against his face with the little strength you had left. his free hand held onto the side of your thigh as a sign of comfort

he caressed the skin before making one harsh flick with his tongue and you were gone. the tightness in your lower stomach has finally been released. you felt hot as a sticky liquid spilled right out of you

neteyam pulled his fingers out of you at the perfect time to watch your cum spill onto the blanket below you, he laughed to himself

“what’s so funny?” you asked after gaining your consciousness back

“oh nothing. just thinking about how many times you’ll be doing that tonight” he looked straight into your eyes sucking on his fingers

you gulped thinking about all the other things you guys could do. you cheeks burned up causing them to be a darkish purple which neteyam took note of

he chuckled at your flushed state backing himself away from your thighs. now crawling above your body to settle himself right in between them

“hi” you whispered smiling up at him shyly

“hey mama” he smiled back at you caressing your cheek

he leaned down placing a soft kiss on your lips. you hummed satisfactorily as your hands gently went around his throat to pull him in closer. he kissed you so tenderly like you were going to evaporate at any second

you couldn’t help but love him so much in this moment. sure you guys were being sexual but that’s not all what it felt like, it felt like a secret love coming up to the surface in an act of compassion

he pulled away to lay his forehead against yours “are you sure you want this y/n? we can’t go back after this” his breath fanned over your face slowly just like his breathing. “yes i want it”

you nodded reassuring him as your hand slid down his chest slowly. his breathing increased at the contact before waiting for you to continue whatever you were trying to do. your hand slowing as you made your way to his loincloth

“take it off please. i want you. i want you inside of me, make me feel good teyam” you begged

he groaned before lifting off of you. you looked up at him through your long lashes. his gaze becoming colder as he untied the strings on his loincloth. you continued making eye contact with him as the clothing on both of your bodies started to disappear. his hand reached down to your chest to pull the loose leaves off of you now making you completely nude in front of him

your bodies were chest to chest. you felt his heart racing just like he felt yours. you knew that this was going to change everything but a part of you did not care. you waited for this for so long and you finally got it, everything felt right

“it’s gonna hurt, let me know if you want me to stop” he leaned against the arm that was placed to the side of your head as his free hand went down his dick

“okay” you nodded suddenly feeling nervous. your friends told you the first time always hurts at first but there was no going back now. you hid your face in the crook of his neck as he slowly pushed himself inside of you

there was definitely pain, although he stretched you out it was nothing compared to this. he was big, no, huge

you hissed and threw your head back fighting off the tears that flooded in your eyes. he placed a comforting hand on both of your cheeks

“shh, i got you, you’re okay. im sorry i know this hurts” he kissed all over your face in attempt to ease your pain

you let out a long breath “it’s okay, can you move? i’m good i promise” you nodded at him placing your dainty hands on his broad shoulders to motivate him

his hands gripped onto the sides of your waist as he began thrusting into you slowly. checking on you every now and then. your jaw dropped as you looked down to see a bulge in your lower stomach. he lifted your leg up slightly for more leverage before looking at you. you bit your lip and decided to be bold by wrapping both your legs around his waist completely

he grunted as you brought him against you closer with a proud smirk on your face “oh yeah you’re in for it now”

you giggled at his words before yanking him closer to place a passionate kiss on his lips. he suddenly sent a hard thrust into you causing you to pull back with a moan “you’re so fucking big”

“i know” a cocky smirk made its way on his face

his hands were placed at the side of your head. he groaned as he sped up his thrusts hitting your sweet spot causing you to see stars

“OH RIGHT THERE!” you screamed as you gripped onto the blanket below

he held onto your thighs bringing them closer up against him “that shit feels good right?”

“yesss, oh you’re fucking me so good” your jaw dropped as he moved his hips in a circular motion while thrusting faster inside of you

your hands found their way onto his back. you wanted to bring him closer and closer. you practically needed to be inside of him because it just wasn’t enough

“this is what you wanted right?” he watched your face ball up in pleasure as he suddenly threw both your legs over his shoulders in attempt to get you to stay still

“too much! it’s too much i can’t” you cried

he laughed shaking his head before lowering himself down chest to chest with you. you screamed as you felt him reach inside your stomach. “you’re gonna take it”

and with that he trapped you between his arms and began wildly thrusting inside of you. all that could be heard was your moans, his grunts and the sound of skin slapping. you were so grateful that EVERYONE decided to go to that party or the whole damn village would know you’re getting folded right now

“fuck! this pussy is perfection baby” he moaned kissing the side of your cheek that had a tear falling down in pleasure

you couldn’t speak anymore, this man was impaling your insides and you never felt so good. “i’m close, neteyam im gonna cum” you whined feeling your legs go numb

“cum for me my love” he mumbled against your ear causing you to immediately let go

you screamed as your second orgasm spilled out of you. you tried catching your breath as you held onto him to gain your composure

“babe?” you whined almost inaudibly “hold on baby, i’m almost there” he reached up grabbing your neck as he chased his approaching orgasm

your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he slid in and out of your gummy walls. he panted as his thrusting started to get sloppy

“im about to cum. you’re gonna make me cum all inside this pretty pussy. can i? is that what you want?” he whimpered

is this man tryin’ to kill you?

you wrapped your arms around his neck and decided to help him by bucking your hips up into his “yes! i want it. cum inside of me. it’s all yours, this pussy is yours neteyam”

he moaned loudly at your words before shooting his load deep inside of you. the both of you letting out whimpers and gasps as your juices were now flowing together. your lower halves were completely covered in them

he looked up at you to already meet your admiring gaze. he couldn’t help but smile at you. you tilted your head as you started blushing like a school girl with a crush

you were so sensitive you hissed once he started to pull out of you. he helped soothe you by placing gentle kisses on your lips and praised you to take your mind off of it

“you did so good for me, im proud of you my gorgeous girl” he kissed all around your neck while caressing your neck

you melted into his touch and even placed some kisses on him too since you knew he didn’t receive much affection from anyone. he blushed at your actions and before you caught him he flipped you guys over to where you were now able to lay on his chest

exhaustion quickly took over you as both of your bodies started to calm down

“im so tired” you mumbled tracing hearts on neteyam’s chest

“oh i bet you are, being a freak can get very tiring” he teased

you laughed and playfully slapped his chest causing him to laugh with you. your arm draped over his chest as the two of you were now cuddling

“you good?” he asked genuinely massaging your hair as he looked down at you

“never better” you smiled up at him with love

he returned the smile “good, now you have something to share with your little friends”

you bit your lip with a smirk as he landed a gentle slap on your ass “mhm, they don’t need to know”

“oh?” he sounded shocked “so you wanted this for your own fantasies huh?”

you giggled leaning up to grab his face “bingo!”

“silly girl” he shook his head “and you love me” you leaned closer to his face with a small smile

“yes, i do love you” he grabbed your face gently before planting his lips on yours

authore speaks!!

YALL… oh em gee 🤭🤭

IDK ABT OTHER WRITERS BUT ARE YALL ABLE TO TAKE IT SERIOUSLY WHEN WRITING SMUT? bc i most certainly can’t 😭 i can read smut with the most blankest stare but when i write it i giggle and get so flustered

and do u guys like the long smuts with a plot or should i make ‘em shorter and get into it faster?

love, liana

#avatar #avatar the way of water #atwow #neteyam #atwow fanfiction #atwow neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam smut #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam x reader #neteyamsmut #avatar smut #james cameron avatar #avatar fanfiction

586 notes · View notes