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xxladymjxx · 2 years ago

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*not my gif*

Break pt. 2, Shield 💀🏵️

Summary: You return to school the next day, trying to avoid Eddie and Chrissy at all costs. But life is never that easy is it?

this text along with ' is your thoughts

Warning ⚠️: Angst, you're still heartbroken (if only you could get over it overnight, am I right?), Swearing, Flirting (because it's Billy), some jealous Eddie if you squint, some fluff because Dustin is the best (idk why you'd need a warning for that), fainting, longing

I made up the names of your teachers. 😂

Also reader is female.

Pt. 1/ Pt. 3

____________________________________

Waking up from your slumber, you hope the events of the day previous was just an awful dream. Once you force yourself out of bed and make your way to the bathroom you notice some faint looking tear tracks on your face. Eddie breaking your heart wasn't a dream. You groan, anger waking you up.

"Fuck," you say, looking into your vanity mirror, touching your face. You enter your shower, the warm water a welcoming feeling against your body. If you could you'd stay under the warm water forever, but alas, you must get to class. Finishing your morning routine, you take another look in your mirror, reminding yourself what to do if you saw Eddie or Chrissy.

"Avoid at all costs, if you must interact with either of them be stoic, uninterested, guard completely up. It's Friday, you can make it." Preparing yourself mentally for the day, you exit your bathroom and proceed to put on your clothes for the day. Once you deem yourself presentable, you head out the door, completely forgetting to eat breakfast.

Upon entering your car and starting it, your radio comes on, Dolly Partons Jolene began to play.

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

I'm begging of you please don't take my man

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

Please don't take him just because you can

'Fitting' You snorted. You weren't that big of a fan of country music but sometimes you could find solace in it, this being one of those times.

On the very small road to Hawkins High, Dolly Parton continues her song,

Your beauty is beyond compare

With flaming locks of auburn hair

With ivory skin and eyes of emerald green

Your smile is like a breath of spring

Your voice is soft like summer rain

And I cannot compete with you

Jolene

'Fuck, this is exactly what I'm dealing with right now. Only my Jolene won and I can't even bring myself to hate her.'

He talks about you in his sleep

And there's nothing I can do to keep

From crying when he calls your name

Jolene

And I can easily understand

How you could easily take my man

But you don't know what he means to me

Jolene

Good thing you didn't have to deal with that particular issue. You'd have to check yourself in the loony bin. You chuckle at the thought, trying to find the humor in the situation.

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

I'm begging of you please don't take my man

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

Please don't take him just because you can

You could have your choice of men

But I could never love again

He's the only one for me

Jolene

I had to have this talk with you

My happiness depends on you

And whatever you decide to do

Jolene

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

I'm begging of you please don't take my man

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene

Please don't take him even though you can

Jolene, Jolene

The song concluded as you pulled into a parking space of the Hawkins High parking lot. Turning the ignition off, you hear Eddie's car pulling up, blasting Black Sabbaths War Pigs. You make haste grabbing your backpack and exiting your car, you practically run to the entrance of the school, pretending you don't notice Eddie calling out to you.

"(Name)!" He shouted but you were already inside Hawkins High, on your way to class. Your first period: Math with Mr. Stevens, a class you didn't have with Eddie but Chrissy sat next to you. You could deal with her, you knew that.

Entering the classroom you notice Chrissy already in her seat, taking your seat next to her she greets you "Hey," she smiles at you.

"H-hey," you reply back, a bit shocked she spoke to you.

"I'm Chrissy Cunningham," she says, holding out her hand.

'Curse my good manners' you take her hand introducing yourself.

"(Name) (Last Name),"

"Nice to officially meet Eddie's best friend, he won't stop talking about you," she beamed.

You couldn't help but wince slightly at the mention of Eddie. At the same time something caught your attention.

"He talks about me?" You ask and she nods

'Why the fuck would he be talking about me to his girlfriend? Keep it together, (Name)' You were starting to miss Eddie and you couldn't have that, so you added,

"It's all lies," you joked "I didn't push her she just fell down!"

Chrissy bellowed at your joke until Mr. Stevens entered the classroom, she had to halt her laughs once that happened.

"Good morning, class," He greeted us all

"It's morning but it's not good." You joked again, making most of the class along with Chrissy laugh.

"Amusing, Ms. (Last Name), would you mind keeping from diverting the attention of the class for the rest of the hour?" He asks and you salute him. "You got it, boss," earning another few chuckles from your classmates.

Mr. Stevens began his lesson.

-Timeskip to after Math class-

You made your way outside of the of the classroom heading to your locker, praying no one bothers you. Making it to your locker you take what you need for your next subject, putting stuff you don't need for the rest of the day. You sighed, already wanting to go home.

"Hey, (Name)," it was Chrissy

'Fuck, GO AWAY' You inwardly screamed.

"Chrissy," you spoke lowly, trying to keep your composure. It wasn't math class, you didn't have a valid excuse to ignore her.

"Are you alright?" She asked you

'Well, I'm currently avoiding my best friend because he broke my heart yesterday, I'm trying to avoid you too, I feel like I'm slowly losing my mind, but I'm fine.'

"I'm going through some personal things I'd rather not talk about," you state plainly, hoping she'll take the hint.

She just nods "You're exactly the way Eddie described you,"

You looked at her, an eyebrow raised in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Well," she starts "You're funny, you're smart, and you're kind,"

She took a small pause "You said you're going through something personal, but I can tell from the way you look that it's taking its toll on you,"

'If only you knew'

"Yeah it is," you don't hide that from her at least.

"You've got people to help you through it, don't forget that. Including me."

'Dammit! Why can't I hate you?!'

Taking a deep breath you say "Thanks Chrissy, I'll remember that."

You look in horror over her shoulder, Eddie was walking toward you both. Chrissy followed your gaze and her face lit up. Quickly grabbing your bag, you close your locker saying "I gotta go to class!" You turn the opposite direction and speed walk to your next class.

-Timeskip to Free Period-

You had finished five your seven classes, no one seemed to bother you thankfully. You at this point begging for an escape from the prison that was your own mind and body. You retreated to the school library, you knew Eddie wouldn't come here unless it was for his campaign or he wanted to rent one of the Lord of The Rings book. Plopping yourself on a chair at the far end of the library, you pulled out some homework you were assigned too, wanting to get a head start so you didn't have to do much at home.

Writing down some notes, you were broken out of your trance by a familiar voice.

"Hey (Name)," he whispered, sitting across from you. It was Dustin.

"Hi, Dusty," you nod to him, giving him a hint of a smile.

Not waiting to draw attention to the librarian, Dustin took out one of his notebooks, wrote something, passing it to you.

This may sound like a stupid question but are you okay?

You glanced up at him from his notebook, you can see the nervousness on his face. You smiled, writing down your reply.

I wish I could disappear, if I'm honest, I know I'm just being paranoid but I feel like everyone knows Eddie basically dumped me and they're trying to rub salt in the wound

You passed his notebook back, continuing your homework.

Dustin looked at your response with apprehension, he wrote down his response, passing you his notebook.

Eddie wants to talk to you, everytime he spots me in the hallway he says "Where's (Name)?" I always tell him I don't know.

He passes the notebook back to you, you look at it and cringe.

I don't want to talk to him, I don't have anything to say. I never should've said anything, I ruined everything. 3 years of a friendship...I think it's over Dusty.

You felt a tear fall from your face and onto the paper below your face. Sniffling, you pass the notebook back to Dustin, crying as softly as you could

Dustin looked at your note then looked at you, his heart ached for you, he still felt in some way responsible for what happened. He encouraged you to tell Eddie how you felt, now things have taken a turn for the worst.

I'm here for you, (Name), anything you need just tell me 'kay? We have lunch coming up after this.

'FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!' You had forgotten about that. The world really hates you today.

You answer him, writing

Wonderful, I'm really looking forward to seeing Eddie and Chrissy be all over each other while I'm just...well you get it.

Now you REALLY wanted to go home, in fact you almost contemplated going to the nurse saying you didn't feel well, which wasn't a lie, you did NOT feel well.

Hearing the bell ring both you and Dustin gather your things, getting up from your seats and proceed to head to the cafeteria. Dustin lightly patted your back.

"I'm going to do what I can to keep you from being sad, even if I have to spill school lunch on myself," you let out a weak giggle

"Thanks Dusty," you patted his shoulder, "You're gonna make whomever you marry very happy."

He gave you a toothless grin, holding the cafeteria door open for you to go first, you smiled and thanked him again.

Entering the cafeteria you started to feel lightheaded but you shake it off, thinking its the lights.

Dustin walked in front of you and you walked silently behind him. Dustin got his lunch tray and you got yours right after. He looked at you, concern on his face "Are you alright, (Name)?" You looked at him a little dizzy "Y-yeah, I-I'm fine." You both walk to the D&D table.

Eddie was already there, sitting at the end table where he always sits, his eyes met yours with anger and annoyance, you looked away. You placed your lunch tray at the opposite end of the table and sat down, Dustin sat next to you, placing his hand on top of yours.

Looking down at your lunch tray your body suddenly felt heavy, waiting to fall to the floor, you look up at Dustin "Hey, Dusty, I'm not feeling to good, I think I may need to go to the nurse." You say getting up but your legs start to wobble weakly and you almost fall over. "Shit!" Dustin exclaims and he says without thinking "Eddie!" Eddie moved quickly as he moved toward you, he lifted your arm and got under it, forcing you to lean on him. The commotion earning the attention of some people eating their lunch.

"(Name) can you hear me?" Eddie says, scared for you.

Barely conscious you reply "Uh-huh," He starts to take you to the nurse, going as slow as possible and trying to keep you conscious.

"Hey," he snaps his fingers in front of your face, "Stay awake, (Name)!" He panics, exiting the cafeteria.

Even though your consciousness was slipping you could still hear Eddie's voice, you wanted to lean further into his arms, you longed for it. Being so close yet so far from him made your heart ache.

Another voice entered your field of sound, "Hey, Eddie," the voice gasped "(Name)? Oh no!" "Chrissy I'm taking her to the nurse."

'Son of a bitch! I don't want to see them!' you push Eddie away weakly, wanting to run from the situation. Your eyes try to focus on the blurry human figure in front of you, they got closer and your eyes got a clear image of them, you spotted pretty blue eyes and muscular build. It was Billy, your chance of escape right in front of you.

"Billy," you weakly held your hand out to him. "Help, me," you feel tears leave your eyes as your consciousness gives out and you fell forward, darkness consuming you.

-Third person POV-

"Fuck!" Billy caught your body, he immediately picked you up princess style but he felt Eddie's hand grab his forearm. "I'll take her," Eddie said with a firm voice to which Billy saw no threat and said "Why don't you leave her alone?" Billy practically growled at him.

"(Name) told me what happened between you guys, we both know I could take care of her, in more ways than one," Billy looked down at you fondly then took another look at Eddie who's jaw was clenched. Billy smirked at his reaction.

"Now, excuse me, I have to take gorgeous here to the nurse, you take care of yours," he gestures to Chrissy "And I'll take care of mine," Billy holds you closer, causing Eddie to subconsciously move closer to you, protectively.

Billy backed up "You plan on hurting her again?" He glared.

Chrissy looked at Eddie "What is he talking about Eddie?" Eddie stood frozen.

Billy lightly chuckled "Gorgeous here," he nods his head to your unconscious body "Confessed her love to Munson last night, to which your boyfriend rejected her coldly," Billy mock pouted, enjoying every second of Eddie's subtle reactions, jealousy evident on his face.

Chrissy looked shocked but at the same time sympathic with (Name)

"See you around, Munson," Billy sneered, turning and walking away, leaving Eddie and Chrissy looking stunned.

-Timeskip to the nurses office-

Groaning, you try opening your heavy eyelids to the bright light above you, your sight coming back into focus. Trying to get up, strong hands gently pushed you back down the nurse cot, "No you don't, gorgeous, stay put," You recognized that voice "Billy?" You ask weakly, turning your body to the direction of his voice.

"Yeah, I'm here," he says in a soothing voice.

The nurse comes in, "How are you feeling, Ms. (Last Name)?"

You slowly sit up with Billy's help "A little weak," you say, your voice going back to normal.

"But other than that I think I'm fine, perhaps a small headache."

"Well it's a good thing that Mr. Hargrove was here to bring you in,' she beamed at him and he winked in response, making her blush.

"Miss (Last Name), did you by any chance eat breakfast this morning?"

You recall today's events, starting from when you woke up, did your morning routine, and left for school....oh crap.

You facepalmed "No, I didn't," you say in embarrassment.

"I see," the nurse said scribbling down notes.

"Did anything happen to make you forget to eat?" She asked you, looking up from her notes

Taking a deep breath you say, "I confessed my love to my best friend last night and I got regected. I spent most of last night crying because of it. I've been distracted." You say not looking her in the eye.

"Mh-hm," she says, writing something down, "And where do you fit into all this?" She points her pen at Billy.

"I'm kinda her shield, she needs me to protect her from the Big Bad Wolf," Billy chuckles and his nickname for Eddie made you giggle.

You were so grateful for Billy at this moment, he was like a ray of sunshine. And bonus, he is really nice to look at, which is what you were doing right now.

"Well, miss (Last Name), you should be fine, once you get something to eat, I've also excused you from school the rest of the day,"

You were taken aback from this, "U-uh, thank you, ma'am, I'm grateful," you say, trying to stand up.

"What are you doing, (Name)?" Billy asked

"I need to go to the rest of my classes and get my homework. I only have 2 classes to go."

Billy put his hand on your shoulder, "Stay put, gorgeous. I'll get them for you, don't want you fainting in the hallway again," he winked at you, making a small blush appear on your face.

"What are your classes?" Billy asks

"I have Mr. Rockwell and Ms. Duffy my last periods," You say, twiddling your fingers. "You might get some odd stares, after all you did graduate last year," Billy just chuckled.

"If it weren't for you, I might not have graduated in the first place gorgeous," he smiled, turning to walk out of the patient room. "Stay put," he says, leaving.

You were left puzzled, you and Billy had a class together? Last year in fact, why didn't you remember it? What class was it? Sitting on the nurses cot, you patiently wait for Billy, your thoughts buzzing.

The nurse smiled "Is he your boyfriend?"

"N-no," you blush "He's just a friend,"

"He's quite charming," she says

"He is," you say, agreeing with her

"Well, feel free to rest in here, I need to go fill out some papers," she says walking out the door

"Thank you," you manage to say to her before she walked out.

Laying back down on the cot, you try to remember what happened before you passed out. You were in the cafeteria, Eddie looked irritated for some reason. It all came back to you at once, your body feeling heavy, Eddie's shoulder, Chrissy in the hallway, Billy's figure, you groan as you memories resurface. Fighting back tears in your eyes the nurse peaked her head back in, "You up for a visitor?" She asks, smiling.

'Can't you see I'm busy trying not to break down lady?'

"Who is it?" You ask covering your eyes, trying to keep the tears from falling.

"A Mr. Munson,"

'MOTHER FUCKER!!'

"No, thank you," you say quietly, trying to hide the irritation in your voice.

"Okay, dear, I'll tell him," she leaves you be, telling Eddie the news. You assume Eddie relents because you hear no protests.

'Billy, hurry the fuck up!!'

God must be showing you mercy because you heard the nurse say

"Oh, welcome back Mr. Hargrove, she's waiting for you,"

You let out an exhale you didn't know you were holding in, thankful for Billy. He makes his way into the room, walking toward you.

"Hey, gorgeous, I got your homework," he smiled, holding said papers.

"Thank you, Billy!" You smile back, but suddenly it drops.

"I-Is Eddie still out there?"

"I saw him leave, you're fine,"

"Good," you smile.

"He didn't seem too happy though, gorgeous," Billy smirked, obviously pleased.

"Let's head out," he says and you stand, legs slightly wobbly

"You need me to carry you, gorgeous?" He steadies you by placing his hand on your shoulder.

"No, I think I'm okay," you say, getting your legs to cooperate.

Thanking the nurse, you and Billy head out, destination: Parking Lot.

"Hey Billy?" You say, walking beside him, "Hmm?" He looks at you briefly before turning his attention back to walking

"Thank you for doing all this," you say with a bashful tone "Frankly I'm surprised you agreed so quickly." you added

Making it to the front doors, Billy held the door open for you, you step out. Billy just shrugged "I owe you," he responded, as though it were the most simple thing in the world.

Walking toward his Blue Camero you couldn't help but ask "What exactly did I do to help you graduate?"

Billy let out bellowing laugh "You don't remember?" You laugh awkwardly, "Sorry," you scratch the back of your head.

Making it to his car he caged you on the hood, both his strong arms on either side of you

"Billy? W-what---?"

"Want me to remind you, gorgeous?"

Your brain was short circuiting, you didn't know what to do as you starting looking around frantically.

Taking notice of your nervous state, Billy whispers in your ear "Just kidding, gorgeous, let's go," he pulls off of you and enters his car.

'He was just teasing, get a grip (Name)!' you shake it off, entering Billy's car on the passenger side.

"Let's head out, gorgeous," he starts his car and speeds out of the parking lot, terrifying you.

"Can you slow down, please?" You say, gripping his passager seat with your finger nails.

Billy speeds up "What was that, gorgeous?"

'This is his car, (Name). He won't kill you, shit I hope not.'

You do your best to relax as Billy drives you to a diner.

-Timeskip to after Lunch with Billy-

Giving him your address Billy drives you home. You let out a sigh of contentment, you were already starting to feel better. You smile to yourself as you look out Billy's window.

"Feeling better, gorgeous?" Billy comments, looking at you.

You look back at him "Yeah, thank you, Billy," you smile.

"Stop thanking me," he snaps and looks away, you think he might be blushing

"Sorry," you comment, giggling slightly at his bashfulness

"'S fine," he rolls his eyes, pulling into your driveway, coming to a slow stop. "I appreciate the drive home," you add, removing your seatbelt, trying to make your gratitude known.

He grunted, responding to you, getting out of his car. Billy moved over to the other side opening his passager door. "Come, on,"

You get out of his car "Thank you!" Your face pulling up into another smile, you didn't know Billy could be a gentleman. "Would you like to come in?" You ask him "You sure that would be appropriate, gorgeous?" You playfully roll your eyes "Come in, Billy,"

'He's nice, but he's not Eddie.'

'SHUT. UP. BRAIN.'

Opening your front door, you walk inside, you turn to Billy behind you, "Will you close my door and lock it, please, Billy?" He smirked "You plan on locking me away in here, gorgeous?" He asks playfully "I really don't mind."

You let out a hearty laugh. "As if, Billy. I'm just being polite. Make yourself at home," to which he follows taking a seat on your couch, glancing at your family photo on the side table.

"Your old man and old lady not home?" He questioned

"Nope," you say a little sadly "I'm home alone for a whole week," Trapped alone with your thoughts about Eddie and Chrissy.

'Fun,'

"So, Billy," you began "What did I do to help you graduate? I'm sorry, I really can't remember."

Billy threw he's head back and laughs and you couldn't help but join in. "We had a final for Ms O'Donnells last year, you didn't notice but I looked at your answers, knowing almost all of them would be correct."

"Wait, why didn't I notice that?" You had meant for that to be in your thoughts but you spoke it.

"You were too busy looking at Eddie, you got it bad for him, gorgeous."

You blush and nod your head, knowing he was speaking the truth. You DO have it bad for your best friend.

"So," Billy gets up "Same time Monday, gorgeous?" He was already leaving? Glancing at your clock it read 3:45 pm, "Already?" You ask "Yeah, I have to be home early or my dad will be angry." "I-I see," you say, sadness laced in your voice.

Billy walks over to you and hugs you "You're gonna be fine, gorgeous, I know you will," Despite everything that happened you believed him, things were going to get better for you somehow. You knew it.

Billy let's you go and heads out the door, you wait outside the screendoor waiting to see him off. Billy enters his car, starts his ignition, backs out of your driveway and drives off. You close your front door and lock it, letting out a breath.

Crashing on your living room couch, you allow yourself to relax. Your thoughts stray to Eddie for a second before you immediately shut them down

'No you don't, brain.'

Getting up with a start, you remembered something

Your car was left at the school.

You let out a very frustrated groan. You had to go get your car, it was a short drive to school so it wouldn't take you that long to get it on foot. Grabbing your keys, your walkman from your backpack you head out the door, locking your front door in the process. In your mind you say a prayer,

'Please don't let Eddie be there, or Chrissy,'

In your minds eye you see Eddie and Chrissy making out in his van. The sicking thought brought tears in your eyes. But another emotion followed clear as day: Anger. Anger at yourself, Eddie, Chrissy, life. These emotions were intense. You walk in the direction of the school, putting on your headphones you hope to drown out the world.

Keeping a good pace down the road, you make it to Hawkins High faster than you thought. You wonder how you got here so fast, it was just to get your car. The answer came unbidden into your head: You wanted to see Eddie. Fuck, you wanted to see him so badly, you almost couldn't stand it.

You shake off that one sided feeling and speed walk to your car, very noticeable in the almost empty parking lot. Looking around, you notice Eddie's van still in the parking lot, the same spot he parked in this morning. What was he still doing here? There was no Hellfire campaign to prepare for, Eddie hated being in this building, having to repeat Senior Year 3 times will do that to you.

'Don't bother, (Name). He's causing you enough pain without even being in his presence. Just get in your car and LEAVE.'

Heeding your own command you got in your car, starting it and pulled out of the parking lot driving back home. Looking in your review mirror you spot Eddie and Chrissy exiting the school, Eddie comes to a halt seeing your car. You think for a second that your eyes meet but you knew that wasn't possible.

Not even 5 minutes later you make it home. You enter your house and take a look at the clock, it read 4:15 pm,

'DAY JUST END ALREADY, I'M BEGGING YOU!'

You think about what other things you might have to do but nothing came to mind. Static erupted your relaxation as you hear

"(Name), do you copy? It's Dustin, over."

Getting up and going to your room, sitting on your bed, you pick up your walkie and say

"(Name) here, over,"

"Jesus Christ! I thought you were goner! Over."

Letting out a small laugh you say "No, Dusty I'm very much alive, over."

"Thank God!" He exclaims

"What happened after Eddie took you to the nurse? Over."

"He didn't take me, Billy did," you said "We made it to the hallway, I was barely conscious. Eddie was trying to keep me awake, then I heard Chrissys' voice,"

"Oh shit," Dustin says, you imagine him cringing

"Yep, safe to say I wanted to run but I was so weak I could hardly move. I saw Billy come into my very limited vision and I practically begged him to get me out of there, before I lost consciousness,"

Placing your hand on your head you fall back onto your pillows

"This is so difficult, Dusty, over." You say with your voice breaking

"Shit, (Name) I'm so sorry, over,"

Tears fall from your eyes as a sob escapes you.

"Wanna have a slumber party? Over," Dustin suddenly says.

"W-what? Over." You croak out

"Yeah! I can call Mike, Lucas and even Erica, can't have all boys at your house. Over."

"I-I dunno, Dustin, I don't think I'll be the best host," you say, nervously picking your finger nails

"I just don't want you to be alone, (Name). Over" he says

"Why don't I just come over to your place for a while? After all it's Friday." you compromise, meeting him halfway.

"Oh shit!" He shouts, making you jump.

"Eddie's here, over!"

Your stomach drops "O-okay, I'll talk to you later then, over!"

"I'll walkie you as soon as he leaves, over!"

"Got it, over and out!" You quickly got off the line and headed to your kitchen, running from Eddie even though he was nowhere near you.

Hearing your stomach growl you decide to make some dinner. A sandwich sounded great. Plus you wanted to stay close to your walkie in case Dustin contacts you. Eating and finishing your sandwich while doing your homework you looked at the clock in your room it read 9:45 pm,

'Dustin sure is taking his time, I hope everything is okay.'

20 minutes pass and you finished your remaining homework. Putting it in a safe place until Monday you hear the familiar static again

"(Name) do you copy, over?" It was Dustin

You hastily pick up "I'm here, Dusty, over."

"Eddie really wants to see you, (Name), like REALLY. I've never seen him like this before, over,

" you noticed Dustin's voice getting quieter gradually as he spoke.

You want to see him too, but.... At the same time you remember him rejecting you, telling you he's with Chrissy

"I want to see him too, Dustin, over," you admitted

"Talk to him, (Name)! You guys need to patch things up! Over,"

You gulped, a sense of Deja Vu taking over. You know Dustin means well, he really does. But was talking to Eddie worth more potential heartbreak? You took a chance once and it backfired.

"Dusty, I don't know," you spoke honestly.

"I-- Eddie," choking up you make your choice

"I can't, not again, Dusty. I hope you understand, over"

"Yeah, yeah, I understand completely! Over!" Dustin chimmed in

You dropped your head in relief, tension leaving your body "Thank you, Dusty, I just need time, over,"

"I care about both you and Eddie, I don't like seeing either of you like this, over,"

You can't help but smile "I know, Dusty, over,"

"You sure you're gonna be okay by yourself? Over,"

"Trust me, Dustin, I'll be okay. I just need to take this one day at a time, I'll walkie you tomorrow, promise, over and out."

Both you guys end your conversation, standing up you put on your pajamas and climb into bed, waiting for sleep to take you.

After an hour of tossing and turning you realized you couldn't sleep, thoughts of Eddie and the situation disturbing your rest. Sighing, you climb out of bed and enter your living room, if you couldn't sleep you might as well do something to take your mind off things. Sitting on your couch you grab the TV romote from the side table and begin to browse channels. Scanning mindlessly through different TV shows and movies you finally come across something you enjoy, a movie: Airplane.

Getting comfortable on your couch, you look forward to the laughter this movie gives you. You came across this movie while it was about 10 minutes in. Checking your clock it read 11:30 pm. Well, if you weren't going to get any sleep at least it was the weekend.

Aimlessly focusing on the movie you've seen several times before, softly laughing at the jokes that came on, you hear your phone ring. Deciding to let it go, if it was somebody important they'd leave a message. Getting up to check it, sure enough there was a message. Hitting the button you let it play.

"(Name) call me back, talk to me, please!" Eddies' voice was on the machine, hearing the desperation in his voice you picked up your phone and started to dial his number.

'What the fuck are you doing (Name)?' Stopping yourself at the very last number, your finger hovering over the digit. What WERE you doing? Going to go to Eddies rescue because he called you? Seemingly desperate?

'No you don't, Eddie!'

Slamming down the phone and erasing Eddie's message with newfound power you smile a genuine smile after what felt like centuries. While the heartbreak was still fresh you fully embrace this power, this is the backbone you needed. You were actually looking forward to school next week.

____________________________________

5537 words!

Woo! Decided to end this part with a hopeful ending rather than Reader succumbing to more despair! Be prepared for the next part ladies, it's gon be SPICY 🥵

Votes are appreciated, feel free to comment as well! God bless!

🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie my beloved #eddie x reader #eddie x you #stranger things #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn #joe quinn #Eddiemunson

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ateezmakemeweep · 4 years ago

Text

mingi x reader x wooyoung

word count: 25k

angst, smut

(part 1)

even before your relationship with wooyoung ended the way it did, you always wondered what drove people to cheat? did they just never care from the start, basing the relationship off lies and fake smiles, or did something happen down the line?

were there problems that only one person could see and didn’t feel comfortable enough talking about to the other? did they feel neglected or unloved, like they needed to seek out that affection and validation elsewhere?

or did they really just have no regard for another person, selfishly occupied with their own pleasures and needs while realizing, maybe, they didn’t care if they hurt the person or not.

if you asked your ex-boyfriend, he’d say it was none of the above - he’d say that it simply just happened.

that one second, he was in love with you and the next, he somehow found himself in a whirlwind of kisses and touches behind closed doors with someone who wasn’t you.

that while he knew it was wrong and unfair to you, a part of him felt like he couldn’t stop. like he could keep up this affair of being a sweet, loving boyfriend but also someone another person found desirable and attractive.

enjoyed the rush and thrill of doing something forbidden, even though it felt wrong.

but of course, he didn’t tell you any of this; you hadn’t talked to him since he cried outside of his dorm building begging you for another chance.

the same way you cried on the whole ride home and into your pillow that night, the night after that, and the night after that for about two whole months.

you can even admit, looking back at it now, eight months later, that you handled the breakup in a very cliche way: crying into a box of chocolates in bed and swearing that love didn’t exist. it was sad to you then, to believe so young that what you once felt was the best feeling in the world didn’t exist.

but the more time went on, the more you saw maybe you’d jumped the gun on that.

because just a few short weeks after the breakup, blocking wooyoung on every form of social media and telling your parents to never allow him in the house, you heard a knock at your door.

you approached it warily, eyeing the spray bottle on the counter and debating on arming yourself with that, before you saw a tall, familiar head through the glass window that definitely wasn’t your ex’s.

“how do you know where i live?” was the first question out of your mouth, not being able to keep the bite out of your tone or annoyance from crossing your face at mingi’s dejected form in front of you.

he had tried to talk to you the first few days after the incident, begging you to just hear him out and insist he never wanted you to feel stupid or in the dark; but that’s exactly how you felt.

how could you not, after knowing everyone in wooyoung’s life knew about him and lisa except you? everyone who saw you and him together, looked you in the face and smiled at you two together, while also being fully aware of what him and another girl were doing.

“nice to see you too,” mingi said, his hand toying at the back of his hair nervously, an awkward smile creeping up on his face as he tries to lighten the tense mood.

but you’re only a few weeks out of the gate of being cheated on and humiliated, the boy in front of you harboring that information until it all blew it up in your face in the most upsetting way; so you can only roll your eyes and slam the door in his.

or at least attempt to, before his foot slips through the open space and halts it.

“y/n, wait-”

“no, mingi. i have nothing else to say to you.”

“i know and i don’t blame you,” the boy says, his soft, kind voice a stark contrast to his large, looming appearance. “but you deserve an apology. just give me ten minutes to try and explain.”

you bite the inside of your cheek as you look up at mingi, annoyance flooding through your veins as you’re tempted to tell him to go fuck himself. that no explanation is gonna excuse him harboring that knowledge for months.

and he must know it too, because his face twists into one of remorse as he mutters a quietly spoken “please.”

and a small part of you knows he’s not the one who deserves this harsh reaction. he’s not the one who cheated and betrayed your trust; he had some allegiance to you, sure, being that he was your friend, but not as much as wooyoung did.

he didn’t promise to love you and assure you there was nothing to worry about that. that he only had eyes for you and wouldn’t even think about betraying your trust or affections. he didn’t look you in the face and promise he’d never hurt you because he loved you more than anyone.

and even so, he looks almost as pathetic and desperate as your ex did when he was begging you for a second chance.

“five,” you snap shortly, backing away from the door and watching as mingi’s eyes light up in surprise.

he gives you a small smile that would usually soften your heart but only proves to make you raise an eyebrow, leading him to the living room where he fills you in on the truth about the past six months.

how when they first kissed at a random party, wooyoung was shitfaced and didn’t even remember the next morning; it was lisa showing him a picture her friend had snapped in the span of a few seconds that reminded him, guilt flooding through him as he told the girl that could never happen again.

but it did end up happening again. when wooyoung wasn’t shitfaced and lisa was there in his dorm alone.

“he said that lisa was crying, something about feeling alone and upset, because all her friends had boyfriend’s and she felt like a single loser,” mingi says, remembering how down and confused his roommate was the next day when he came home. “and then before he knew what happened, she leaned in and kissed him and he...”

mingi looks up to gauge your reaction and sees you’re just watching him blankly, cold, emotionless eyes that don’t give away the fact hearing this is making you wanna cry and scream all over again.

“he was conflicted,” is what mingi decides on saying.

“not conflicted enough though,” you say, a mix of sadness and humor in your tone as you shake your head. “they were still fucking for two months after that.”

“they never fucked,” mingi is quick to clarify.

you raise your eyebrow and he nods his head as if to say it’s really true, your teeth sinking into your cheek again.

“they kissed and did...other shit,” mingi says, not thinking you wanna hear that wooyoung accepted far too many blowjobs from the girl. “but they never fucked. he said he...couldn’t.”

“wow. what a guy.”

you can’t even try to keep the dryness out of your tone and it causes mingi to press his lips together so he doesn’t smirk, instead looking over your face and frowning when he notices your eyes are puffy.

“i didn’t say that so you take him back or anything,” mingi says quietly, “i just... he told me all of this and i said he had to stop. that it wasn’t fair to you, even if it was just kissing and blowjobs.”

you wince upon hearing it put so harshly, mingi cringing as he realizes he let the details slip out.

“sorry,” he mumbles, a scoff leaving your mouth as you shake your head.

“it doesn’t matter. i’m over it.”

mingi’s eyebrow raises as he looks over your face again, not commenting on the puffiness under your eyes or the fact your hands are pressing into one another anxiously.

“i’m sorry i didn’t tell you,” he says after a few silent moments, his voice laced with such sadness and sympathy you can’t help but meet his gaze.

“i told him so many times to cut the shit, that it wasn’t fair and i was gonna tell you. but, really, a part of me felt like it wasn’t my place and i...i really just didn’t wanna make you sad,” he says, his voice and eyes honest and sweet even though you find his words incredibly stupid.

“i know that’s so stupid,” the boy acknowledges, a dry, humorless tone in his voice. “but i almost...wanted him to get caught, you know? so you saw it firsthand and realized, like, your worth, i guess. even though seeing that would’ve made you sad too, so i... i guess i really just don’t fucking know. i didn’t know what to do.”

and you don’t know if it’s because of his rambling or the absurdity of the situation but you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you, air leaving your nose that has mingi looking at you in surprise.

“you’re right,” you say a smile quirking at your lips that has mingi looking over your face carefully. “that is stupid.”

“but it’s also stupid to be mad at you, i guess,” you say when he looks down in embarrassment, emphasizing your last two words sarcastically as you sit back on the couch and look him over. “wooyoung was the one who was supposed to be loyal to me, not you.”

“but kind of me, too,” mingi says softly, his arm reaching out to pluck a piece a hair off your shoulder absentmindley. his touch is gentle and warm and his long fingers linger on your skin, the move shocking you as much as it comforts you.

mingi had been touchy and affectionate after just a few weeks of you knowing him, one to pull someone in for a hug or wrap an arm around their shoulder opposed to a stiff, clammy handshake. it was something you liked about him immediately, how warm and innocently affectionate he was.

“wooyoung’s my friend but so are... so were you.”

you watch his fingers rest on the couch cushion next to you as you let out a small, shaky breath, something about his words causing you to look up and narrow your eyes.

“were?”

a pink, dare you say, nervous, blush crosses mingi’s face that causes you to hold back a laugh, his eyes wide as he shakes his head quickly.

“are. you are my friend,” he clarifies quickly, unsure eyes still roaming you. “i just...wasn’t sure if you still wanted to be.”

his stammered words coupled in with his pink cheeks and dark, wind-blown hair have a small smile stretching across your face, a sigh leaving your mouth as you shake your head at him and shrug.

“well, i guess i can’t lose you too, huh?”

you’ve never seen a smile as big as the one that crosses mingi’s face after you say that, his arm reaching out and pulling you into him; the boy really does underestimate his size and strength, though, dragging you right across the couch and straight into his hard body where he begins to stammer out more apologies.

“tell you what,” you say, craning your neck to look up at him. “the next time some asshole’s cheating on me, just tell me right away and i’ll accept these 200 apologies from you, yeah?”

“there’s not gonna be a next time,” mingi promises, his familiar scent and loud, happy voice bouncing off your living room walls. “because i’ll beat the shit out of anyone who hurts you again.”

you roll your eyes as you push him over on the couch, letting out one of your first genuine giggles in weeks as you watch him flop on the cushions like a fish out of water.

and you really think mingi’s what you got through the months that followed that conversation.

because if he wasn’t driving down every few weekends to hang out, you were texting and facetiming almost every hour of the day.

he helped you through the rest of your senior year, when senioritis hit it’s peak and you all but refused to do any homework or projects. he was the first person you called when you needed motivation (or distractions), talking into the wee hours of the morning or falling asleep on facetime together.

he was also the first person you called when college acceptance letters came in, his deep, happy voice expressing how he knew you were gonna get in.

“and you’re gonna go to the one only thirty minutes away from me, yeah?” he asked playfully, your eyes rolling as you plopped down on your bed.

“yeah, right,” you giggle out, looking over the three pamphlets as you, really, try to consider how to even begin the process of choosing.

that’s another thing mingi ended up helping you with, weighing the pros and cons of each school with you and even suggesting you drive up to him so you can tour the college close to his.

you don’t know for sure but maybe that’s why you ended up accepting that offer, after seeing the beautiful campus in person, the friendly students and ‘spacious’ dorm rooms that looked a whole lot better than two out of state schools you’d have to wait until the summer to see.

but if you asked mingi, he’d say it was absolutely because of him - because now you could see him every day. now he could easily help move you in and bring you lunch and show you the spots off campus where they never check ids or question a bad fake.

and while all of those were certainly helpful, you especially liked that, when classes started up and nearly knocked you on your ass, mingi was there to help you some more.

“you said professors were nice!” you squealed, hitting him in the arm as you two walked into a coffee shop smack in the middle of your two colleges; it’s also the coffee shop you waited pathetically in this past valentine’s day, but you try to let that painful memory slip your mind.

“hey! i’m sorry, most of them are!” mingi defends, his eyes widening and a laugh nearly bursting from his mouth when he sees the five syllabuses you throw onto the table.

“oh? then what is this?”

and sure enough, almost every class lists required textbooks costing over $150, several papers throughout the year, and a strict two-absence policy that will result in a whole letter grade drop if broken.

“and then if we miss because of a death in the family, we have to bring proof! what kind of sick shit is that?” you squeak, arms flying and eyes nearly bulging out of your head; if you were already this fucked after only a week of classes, you don’t even wanna know how you’re gonna be when real work starts.

mingi takes a hold of your arms to stop your flailing, his large, warm hands seeping through the sleeves of your shirt causing you to look up at him.

“babe...you gotta calm down.”

you don’t remember when he started dropping little pet names like that, or when his touches got more frequent and lingered, but you only know it’s something you guys don’t comment on. how, sometimes, both of you can even hear the others fastened heartbeat if you’re close enough or will meet gazes before shyly looking away.

you look up at him with a pout, the teasing smirk on his handsome face making you wanna stomp on his foot.

“i don’t wanna take a picture with my grandma’s corpse,” you whine, knowing that if anyone were watching you both right now, they’d think you were nuts.

“and you won’t have to,” mingi says, an inappropriate laugh bubbling from his mouth that causes you to smack his arm roughly. “why are you hitting me!” he yelps, a soft, amused smile on his face. “i’m trying to help you.”

and because you’re whining and he’s laughing, amused eyes locked on one another while his hands run up and down your arms soothingly, you both miss the fact that someone was around to see you both.

someone watching with hard eyes and a sinking heart at hearing your familiar laugh, at seeing your eyes twinged with amusement and happiness looking at someone who isn’t him.

but he knows he doesn’t deserve to see that anymore. that he ruined that chance with you and he shouldn’t even be surprised that you were able to move on to someone better.

even if that someone was his friend, a fact that’s making his blood boil right about now.

“you good?”

yeosang’s voice pierces wooyoung’s ears the second they leave the coffee shop, a knowing look on the boy’s face as the other can only shrug.

“yeah,” wooyoung says quietly, looking back through the window to see you dragging mingi to the counter by the hand.

your touches look comfortable and familiar, like you’d spent weeks, or even months, growing closer to one another; he knows that it takes you a while to warm up to people, only letting a select few in - which now probably worsened after the shit he did.

with that knowledge, he also knows that it doesn’t even matter if he wasn’t good (which he’s not, he feels it in the way his chest is aching and veins are burning) because he knew it was a mistake.

he knew sneaking around and lying to you was leading him down a path that would cost him the best thing that ever happened to him. he was the one suffering without you while you’re, apparently, able to move on.

and evidently, he’s also the one whose always been selfish - hoping that there’s a way you’ll somehow forgive him and see that, even though he wronged you, a part of him still wants you.

and he always gets what he wants.

“y/n, c’mon pleaseeee.”

it’s the eighth time mingi whined that sentence to you over the phone this week, a sigh leaving your mouth as you smack your hands onto your comforter.

“mingi, i’ve said the same thing for the past four days! what makes you think my answer’s gonna be any different tonight?”

the first month of school had, admittedly, kicked your ass.

it wasn’t even that the work was challenging or daunting, you liked what you were learning and you even made a few friends in your classes, but it just feels like you’ve never gotten a moment to yourself since this all started.

if you’re not surrounded by classmates or your roommate, you’re working at the coffee shop you and mingi frequented so much, they offered you a job. but with your roommate gone this weekend and you not on the work schedule till sunday evening, you intended to spend the next two days in bed.

catching up on shows, taking naps in between, taking some time to catch up on reading - you were only gonna move when your bladder and stomach begged you to, not a tall, whiney man.

“because i’m begging,” mingi sighs, knowing with 100% certainty you’re already curled up in bed with your laptop in front of you. “how many fucking times are you gonna rewatch love alarm?”

your mouth drops open as your eyes fall to the screen, jojo and sun-oh’s faces staring back at yours causing your cheeks to flush; how the hell did he know that first of all?

“until season two comes out,” you whine back, a laugh bubbling out of his mouth before he sighs. you roll your eyes at the sound, pushing yourself to your feet to grab water from the mini fridge. “if you wanna hang out so bad, come over tonight and watch with me.”

“you know i would but i already told people i was coming,” he explains, a pout on his face he wishes you could see in an effort to persuade you (even though you’d probably just curl your lip in disgust).

“then have fun and enjoy! i’ll be watching sun-oh whisk jojo away and-”

“i know why you don’t wanna go.”

the words die in your throat just as you hear him say that, his voice low and sympathetic that has you poking your tongue into your cheek; he only uses that voice when he thinks you’re about to be upset by something.

and it’s not hard for you to gather what he’s thinking, given that he wants you to go to your ex-boyfriend’s campus party.

“if you’re thinking what i think you’re thinking, then you’re wrong.”

because if he has this notion that you don’t wanna run into wooyoung, then yes, he’s wrong. sure, you don’t wanna particularly see him, but it’s been months. you’re over him and you know he’s over you, there’d be no reason to alter your life in hopes to avoid him.

“what do you think i’m thinking?”

“we’re not doing this, mingi,” you groan, pushing yourself away from the counter and heading right toward your warm bed. “i’m not going for no other reason than i wanna stay in my bed for the next two days. you can come over after if you want but i’m not setting foot in that disgusting frat house. have fun and don’t drink too much!”

and with that, you hang up and crawl under the blankets with a content smile on your face.

one that drops when you hear a knock on your door thirty minutes later, already knowing by the distinct pattern that it’s no other than the boy you hung up at the start of your episode.

“that was a quick party,” you say when you open the door, leaning against the frame as you stare at mingi with a raised eyebrow.

he looks the same way he did during the conversation that rekindled your friendship, his hand toying at the back of his hair and a nervous smile on his face.

“yeah...” he laughs out awkwardly, the stare he’s giving you causing you to shake your head immediately.

“you didn’t go, did you?”

“no. i wanted to pick you up first.”

he sees fury cross your face and your arm reaching out to smack him, his hand quickly catching it and pulling you into him.

“c’monnn, we’ll only stay for an hour. and then we’ll come back here and finish love alarm for the 700th time.”

your eyebrows narrow at you stare up at the boy, so annoyed at him ruining your night you don’t even realize how close your bodies are pressed up against one another. his hard, toned chest against yours that would, without a doubt, make you flush if you realized.

“please,” he whines, a pout on his face as he tightens his hold on you. “i don’t wanna go alone, i told them i was bringing a friend. and i miss you. we haven’t seen each other in a few days and-

“just shut up,” you growl, pulling him in your room by his shirt because you just know he’s fucking relentless. you close your laptop begrudgingly, throwing him a dirty look before you go to the closet to change out of your sweatpants.

“you should wear the jeans with the-”

the look you throw his way immediately causes him to stop talking, a smirk crossing your face as you turn away and curse him out in your head for looking so handsome, maybe you couldn’t resist walking in with him tonight.

but you also couldn’t resist the way your eyes roamed the crowded frat house forty minutes later, the familiar scent of alcohol and sweat invading your senses.

there’s just as many people as last year when you came, a sticky cluster of bodies that is all too off putting when you were just bound to your bed in pajamas and fuzzy socks.

you’re also all too aware of the setting that’s giving you flashbacks, beer pong tables and what seems like dozens of pretty girls with dark hair littering the house - it’s making you far more uncomfortable than you care to admit.

“y/n,” you hear a voice say, your neck turning toward the male presence. it takes you a few seconds to remember who he is, attractive features you remember thinking were so regal causing you to smile politely.

“you should tell him it bothers you,” you hear yeosang say, looking over at the boy with a wide eyed gaze. he says it so straight forwardly that it causes you to grow nervous, biting your lip before you open your mouth to speak.

“what?”

he raises his eyebrow and you know he’s seeing through your lie. the lie that you’re not all bothered by being here and watching him play with another girl. a girl you’re almost positive has ill-intentions. and now you see where yeosang’s bluntness comes in.

“that him and lisa make you uncomfortable,” yeosang tells you, looking over and seeing them smile at one another in victory. “because you’re worried, aren’t you?”

it’s the first time it’s been verbalized and it makes your stomach squeeze painfully, sadness and anger and disappointment flooding through you.

“should i be?” you squeak, since you know he sees you them a lot more than you.

“i don’t know,” he says, the both of you looking over in time to see lisa smack wooyoung’s arm playfully as she throws her head back. “should you be?”

that was the first and only conversation you had with the boy and yet he hinted more to you than anyone else in your life at the time; granted it was still early in but he had obviously saw something, too.

maybe a suspicious glint in wooyoung’s eye, lingering over lisa despite your presence a few feet away. maybe he could tell you weren’t gonna be enough to keep him loyal, maybe he-

you shake your head of these thoughts, reminding yourself that you’re over this.

you’re over him and the way he made you feel and everything about the whole breakup entirely; why would you want someone who, when it came down to it, didn’t want you back?

“hi, yeosang,” you say with a sweet smile, mingi greeting the shorter boy before someone else pulls his attention away. you let out a sigh and roll your eyes, a deep chuckle leaving the boy who pats the seat next to him.

he’s not surprised to see you but he is surprised that you came here tonight, of all places. where he knows wooyoung is lingering and knows when he sees you, he’s gonna come over with sorrow in his eyes and a voice to match.

ever since the breakup, yeosang had been the one there for wooyoung. he knew what the boy was doing was wrong, and he felt bad for you, but he also knew wooyoung could do anything and he’d still be there for him.

he could disagree with him and find his actions and decisions questionable but in the end, he’d be there for him.

that’s why he saw and tended to the breakdown wooyoung went through after everything happened. watched the boy become a shell of the person he’d been, no longer happy and bubbly and, instead, drowning his sorrows with alcohol when he wasn’t doing the bare minimum for school.

yeosang had to tell him more often than not, with some tough love, that he had ruined everything between you two. and for him to wish that he could talk to you or get another chance was incredibly selfish.

but through all of that, he was there for him. would stop him from drinking himself into a coma or take him out of the house to distract him any chance he got.

especially because a few weeks after everything, mingi had started distancing himself. the boys had still lived together until the semester ended in may, but it’d been obvious the boy wasn’t as...tolerant of wooyoung as he was.

and now he sees why. with the way mingi’s soft eyes are looking at you from across the room, watching closely as you sit down next to him and send a polite smile his way.

“so what, you loved these parties so much you decided to come to school here?” yeosang smiles teasingly, a deep chuckle leaving him when your face turns into a grimace.

you tell him how you go to the school just a half hour away, how it was the only school you were able to tour in person and how, with sinking suspicions, that mingi played a big role in you coming here.

“my roommate is so nice though,” you share with him, a happy smile on your face as you tell him about the girl whose face piercings and dark makeup are a complete contrast to her sweet, soft-spoken personality; you remember thinking when you first met that she was gonna rip your head off, especially because you came in jabbering with an even more excitable mingi.

but she loved him and you immediately and as far as roommates went, you couldn’t be happier.

“and i work at a coffee shop now. i was a little thrown off the first few weeks but i think i’ve finally adjusted,” you giggle out, a small smirk on his face that you find far too endearing.

“that’s good,” yeosang says before he reluctantly adds, “i’ve seen you working there a few times.”

“oh?”

your eyebrows pull together as you cock your head to the side in confusion; you’d never seen him in there before. and you think you would’ve recognized him immediately, even outside of this sleazy frat house.

“yeah, the first week of classes we were there and saw you and mingi,” he says, “then i went back and saw you working behind the counter.”

you don’t comment on the we, because you have a good feeling about who he’s talking about, so you only nod and smile, telling him to say hi next time and you’ll give him a cookie on the house.

“i know she didn’t just offer you a free cookie,” mingi says, plopping down next to you and throwing his arm around you. “i ask all the time and she laughs in my face.”

“because you come in every day!” you squeal, smacking in the stomach lightly. “they’d go broke and i’d be fired.”

“you’re a grimy fuck to even ask,” yeosang says, a laugh bubbling out of your mouth at the look on mingi’s face. you listen to the boys bicker back and forth as your eyes roam the room, everything about the scene so familiar but also different.

you don’t feel uncomfortable or nervous for the same reasons you did a year ago, when the music was too loud and the scent was overwhelming and there were just too many people.

now you’re uncomfortable and nervous about just who’s lingering in this crowd, like you’re about to be met with something, or someone rather, that’s gonna hurt you.

even though you’ve convinced yourself that you’re okay and you won’t care. you won’t care in the slightest if you see lisa under wooyoung’s arm across the room, if you see now that those months really did mean something to them and they were able to prevail.

nope. it won’t bother you at all; in fact, you think two people like that probably deserve each other.

but your roaming eyes say otherwise. the nervous knot in the pit of your stomach and the way you press yourself closer to mingi (in a way he doesn’t comment on but welcomes) says if you see them together, you might lose your shit just a little bit.

“you good?” mingi asks lowly in your ear, his large hand falling onto your knee. you feel the warmth through your jeans and the indents of his rings against your leg, looking up at him with a forced, tight smile.

“i’d be better if i was in bed like i planned,” you say through clenched teeth, a deadly look in your eye that should make him fearful but just makes him laugh.

“oh, c’mon, aren’t you having fun? you got to see your old friend-”

“yeosang.”

and like the universe was showing mingi just how much fun it was allowing you to have tonight, a voice that makes your blood run cold finishes mingi’s sentence.

your eyes snap to the boy you haven’t seen in over eight months, a face that once made you so stupidly happy with his wide smile and sparkling eyes; you remember when you first met him, you were so confused by the look them.

why he looked at you so fondly and made your heart flutter even though it shouldn’t have been.

and that’s the exact feeling you’re getting right now, seeing the boy who, the last time you looked at him was crying and begging and desperate, look at you with glossed over eyes and not a hint of a smile.

“hey, woo,” yeosang says, noticing his friend’s lingering gaze and your obvious discomfort; he doesn’t think an atmosphere has ever gotten so tense so fast.

it takes him a second to stutter out the response “hi,” his eyes moving from yours to mingi’s hand on your leg before back to you. you can’t help the way you quirk an eyebrow at him, almost daring him to say something about mingi’s hands on you before he shakes it off and looks to yeosang.

you only listen to the boys speak as you look down at your feet, mingi’s arm tightening around you when you start to wiggle them. it’s a nervous habit he’s picked up on after these months of getting to know you and, apparently, he’s not the only one who remembers it.

“you do that every time i sit next to you.”

you peer up at the senior who’s insisted on spending lunch with you for the past three weeks, the ever-present teasing smile on his cocky face making your eyebrows pull together.

“do what?”

he nods his head down to the floor where you’re tapping away, toes wiggling in your shoes as the balls of your feet bounce up and down slightly.

your cheeks flush and you shrug your shoulders, not wanting him to know that, while you’re confused by his company, it doesn’t make you any less aware of how attractive he is. doesn’t make the stupid little crush you’ve developed on him any less intense or you any less nervous.

“oh,” you say quietly, a blush creeping onto your cheeks that makes his teasing smile widen.

“yeah, oh,” he mocks, his eyes lighting up with amusement you know it’s directed toward you. you narrow yours at him but it doesn’t deter him in the slightest, his foot hitting yours under the table playfully.

“it’s okay, i think i just make you a little nervous.”

“nervous?” you ask, a scoff leaving your mouth as you shake your head. “why on earth would i be nervous?”

and with a playful cock of his head, a smile on his face that only grew softer and sweeter over time, he so boldly said “because you like me too, don’t you?”

you catch wooyoung looking at your feet and immediately stop bouncing them, putting your right sneaker over your left before looking up at mingi with a small smile.

“i’m gonna go get a drink.”

“i’ll come with-”

“it’s fine, it’s right there,” you say, nodding your head into the kitchen only a few feet away.

you leave before mingi can even respond, quickly getting up and scurrying away from the tense atmosphere you know is partially because of you. you need to just get away from all of that for a second, knowing that this was a possibility tonight but didn’t think it would happen so fast.

it’s easy to think you’re over something when you’re not presented directly with it but, now, seeing him makes all those masked feelings come to the surface.

how hurt and betrayed and upset you were by what he did. how you tried to convince yourself that you were over everything simply because you know you deserve better; and while you know that, it still doesn’t quell the memories.

doesn’t stop you from thinking about the nights before he went away to school, the two of you under the stars when he assured you he loved you and didn’t wanna break up with you. teased you for thinking he’d wanna break up with his high school girlfriend when he went off to college.

“i don’t wanna break up,” you whimpered against him, your hands fisting his grey sweatshirt as you hid your face in his neck. he pressed a kiss to your head, bringing a hand to your back as he rubbed up and down soothingly.

“who said anything about breaking up, my love?” he cooed, the term of endearment causing your stomach to swoop.

“i-i just assumed you wouldn’t wanna be with your high school girlfriend in college,” you say quietly against him. “it would make sense, i guess, so i can’t say i blame you but-”

he brings your face to his as he places a firm kiss on your lips, melting into you as he palms your cheek softly. you kiss him back immediately, feeling your heart break at the thought of never being able to do this again.

“i don’t know why you’re thinking like that,” he mumbles once he pulls back, running his hand through your hair before tucking the strands behind your ear. “but get those thoughts out of your head. i’m not breaking up with you, baby. in case you forgot, i just told you i loved you the other day.”

“i know but-”

“but what?” he asks with a smirk, pushing you down on your back and rubbing the stray tear off your cheek. “you think i just say shit to say it?”

“no, but-”

“then stop. i’ll tell everyone at college i have a high school girlfriend and they won’t have shit to say about it.”

it doesn’t stop you from remembering how much his voice and eyes used to calm you, how, in a setting like this, one look from him would completely put you at ease and make you feel better.

“y/n.”

you immediately grow tense at wooyoung’s voice saying your name, not having heard it fall from his lips in what felt like forever.

you’re debating whether you even wanna turn around and look at him again, knowing you can just go on your way and completely ignore him. knowing you should go on your way and completely ignore him.

but instead you turn to him and give him a blank look, waiting for him to say something else before you turn back and rummage through the cooler for a soda. your hand searches through the freezing ice for a red can of coke, the tips of your fingers growing numb as you fish through the water.

partially because you can’t find one and partially because you don’t wanna turn back around and face him.

“you drink now?”

your neck cranes up to look at wooyoung, his eyes soft and curious as he looks down at you. you hate how your body still responds to him, how he still looks so handsome but also like he lost a little bit of weight.

you hate how a part of you is concerned about that, wondering if he hasn’t been eating well or is doing drugs harder than pot.

“no,” is all you say shortly, deeming your efforts for a soda useless and shaking the wetness off your hand. your eyes fall to his empty ones and you raise an eyebrow, surprised not to see some sort of can of alcohol near him.

“i don’t really drink anymore,” he offers after a few silent seconds, your eyes raising to his before mingi’s voice plays in your mind - “wooyoung was so shitfaced the first time they kissed, he didn’t even remember. he didn’t know until lisa showed him a picture.”

“i didn’t really ask,” you say before you can stop yourself, his face falling before a sigh leaves his mouth.

“i guess i deserve that,” he mumbles lowly, your teeth sinking into your cheek before you turn to leave.

you begin to wonder why mingi and yeosang let him follow you in the first place before you feel a hand lightly touch the back of your arm, your neck snapping back and arm pulling away when he mutters your name pleadingly.

“how have you-”

“we’re not doing this.”

“i just wanna talk, y/n,” he says quietly, the sad desperation obvious in his tone. “i haven’t seen or talked to you in months.”

“and why is that, woo?”

you don’t even mean for the nickname to fall from your lips but it does, twists his stomach in a way that makes him feel even more shitty and defeated and guilty.

tears prick your eyes as you realize you haven’t said that name since febuary, his own softened gaze on you making you shake your head and take a step back.

“if we could just talk for a few-”

“we’re not doing this,” you repeat firmly, taking a step away from his looming presence. “i wasn’t even supposed to come tonight.”

“but you came with...mingi?” he asks lowly, like spitting the boy’s name out was the hardest thing he had to do in months.

but you bet what you had to do over these past few months was harder.

finish school while also dealing with the heartbreak that comes with being betrayed in such an awful way. building back up your confidence and worth and trying so hard to convince yourself you didn’t do anything wrong.

that’s why you narrow your eyes at him and shake your head, holding back the slew of curse threatening to leave your mouth.

“yeah. i did,” you say confidently, your eyes roaming back to mingi to see him making his way over to you. “and i’m sure there’s someone waiting around here for you, too.”

you watch his face crumble and mouth open to speak but you’re quick to shake your head and walk to mingi, rage filling your chest when you feel wooyoung’s warm, strong hand grab you by the wrist.

“y/n, wait-”

“don’t touch me,” you spit out, ripping your arm away from him harshly.

you can see he regrets the movement the second you look at him but can’t find it in yourself to care, giving him one last look before walking over to mingi - his face, too, is apologetic but much more fearful than your ex’s.

“he said he was going over to-”

“love alarm. now. before i bash your head in and never agree to anything ever again.”

“we’ll pick up snacks,” he says, a hesitant, happy smile creeping up on his face despite your unwavering expression. “my treat.”

“no shit your treat,” you grumble, your hand snaking through mingi’s larger one as you pull him out of the frat house into the cool, fall air.

it’s the much needed crispness you need after the sweaty, tense air you were just subjected to, you and mingi hand in hand as you walk to his car parked a few blocks away.

there’s only a few moments of silence before he addresses the elephant in the room.

“did he say something to you?”

you look up to see mingi staring at you with a soft expression, a sigh leaving your mouth as you nod your head. he stops you both from walking, his hand moving to your hip as you two stand in the street.

there’s a soft glow on him cast from the street light, his eyes roaming your face making his heart pang in your chest. he can see your tense and upset right now, your lips rolling over one another like when you’re trying not to cry or scream.

“are you okay?” he asks softly, a question that would usually make you roll your eyes making your face soften; you know the boy has his faults, a little confused and naive and doesn’t always make the right choices, but he always means well.

he truly cares for people and doesn’t like seeing them sad.

“i’m okay,” you confirm with a small nod, a tiny smile pulling at your lips. “i...it’s over now, you know. it’s different seeing him after all this time. harder than i thought, really, but it doesn’t matter anymore.”

mingi nods his head as he squeezes your hip lightly, taking your hand back in his. they swing playfully in between your bodies, a touch that seems very juvenile and platonic filling you with a warmth you don’t think you should be feeling yet.

you told yourself to wait a year. you even heard somewhere that, for as long as you’ve been with someone in your younger years, you should try to be single for the same amount of time afterward.

take a moment to focus on yourself and ‘soul search’ for the things you want in life.

but having mingi by your side has made that goal harder, or maybe easier depending on how you look at it; especially because his touches linger and make you want more. his eyes watch you so softly and the smile that lights up his face when he first sees you makes you happier than you’ve been in a while.

“we’re not friends with her anymore.”

you don’t expect him to say that but it makes your eyes widen.

because for as long as you guys have discussed wooyoung and the situation, neither of you have ever addressed lisa directly. where she is now or if they remained friends - you told him a million times that you didn’t care.

and even after seeing wooyoung tonight, you want that to still ring true; but again, your actions don’t match your thoughts.

“oh?”

“yeah. a few weeks after that happened, woo refused to be in the same room as her. said it made him sick.”

a scornful laugh threatens to leave your mouth at that, since the last time you’d seen them together, their tongues were down each other’s throats and he was mostly definitely not sick by it.

“anytime we were with her and her friends, he’d leave and say he didn’t wanna be around her. then he just started to avoid us so we eventually just cut them all off. we didn’t really like them anyway, to be honest.”

it takes you a few moments to process his words but it proves to just be too much for your emotionally drained, distraught mind.

“why are you telling me this?”

mingi’s hand tightens ever so slightly on yours as you two continue to walk, his thumb rubbing against your cold skin as the silence remains.

you can only hear the gravel beneath your feet and the last few cicadas that can stand the crip fall weather, looking ahead in the darkness and wondering if he’s ever gonna answer you.

“because he’s waiting for you.”

your feet halt and you look up at him, eyes wide and shocked as he looks down at you. you can’t quite make out the expression on his face, maybe something like fear or hesitance that makes your heart lurch.

“he...told yeosang he wants you to forgive him. and to give him another chance.”

a little bit of every emotion rips through you at this knowledge, rage and annoyance and outrage but also a little bit of sadness you’re not ready to address.

“he’s got balls, i’ll give him that,” you mutter, a smirk quirking on mingi’s lips as he nods his head. he doesn’t know what to say so he doesn’t say anything, torn between his lasting bits of loyalty to wooyoung but his feelings for you.

because over these past few months, he’s wanted nothing more than to kiss you and hug you and make you see you can trust him - not only as a friend but a boyfriend.

a much better boyfriend than the one you had; but he understands you need a friend and he’s okay with that - more than okay, really. though the looks you give him make his heart pound just a little harder, like when you lean your head on his shoulder during a movie or play with his fingers until you fall asleep on his lap.

“but...i think there’s better people out there for me,” you say quietly, head cocked to the side as you start to toy with his long fingers. it’s flirty and daring and maybe a little vengeful after your conversation with wooyoung but you also know it’s genuine.

that the feelings you have for mingi and the way he makes your chest warm is very much so real.

“don’t you think?”

a smile lights up his face and he has to tell his heart to calm down before it explodes, a knowing glint in his eye as he looks over your face and nods his head.

“i do think,” he says, tapping you on the tip of your nose in a way that makes you giggle. you watch as he turns and bends down, a smile lighting up your face as you immediately move to jump on his back.

“now what snacks do you want for tonight, little one?”

the next three weekends you’re deemed safe from any college parties, either your shifts at the coffee shop or mingi’s school work keeping you free from his whining or incessant phone calls.

but the second you heard a knock on your door one saturday night, your movie on in the background and popcorn popping in the microwave, something tells you that you’re fucked. that you’ve steered clear of that sticky, overcrowded house for far too long, and it’s like the tall, handsome boy at your door has realized it.

“you’ve evaded me long enough.”

“sadly, i don’t agree,” you respond dryly, a smirk on the boy’s face as he lets himself in before you can close the door. you let out a groan as he helps himself to your freshly cooked bag of popcorn, throwing the pieces in his mouth as he tells you to get dressed.

“now why would i do that?” you ask, hands on your hips and a snippy tone already in your voice.

but it doesn’t deter mingi in the slightest; if anything, it almost eggs him on even more. his eyes squinting before he abandons the popcorn and charges toward you, large hands gripping your waist as he guides you to your closet and tells you to change.

the deep, commanding tone in his voice should make you angry. it should make you roll your eyes and tell him he’s not the boss of you. that you have no intentions of going out and he could either leave or stay for the movie.

but it’s the contrast of that and the sweet look in his eye that always gets you. how he can be tough and commanding but then cute and playful.

it’s always what gets that feeling of electric between you, his body looming over yours and eyes staring up at one another challengingly. a part of you always wants to tell him to fuck off but then know you wouldn’t be able to handle the sad, mildly pathetic look on his face.

“it’s halloween-themed. but no costumes,” he says, tightening his hold on you and toying with the ends of your white t-shirt. “so match with me.”

your hands travel to his broad shoulders, his muscles under your hands affecting you far more than you’re leading on. a part of you wants to feel just how warm and soft his skin is, trail your finger over his collarbone until he groans or warns you to watch it.

your nails dig into his back ever so slightly, your brow cocked and head turned to the side as you slowly start to step closer to him. his knees hit your bed frame just as you push him back, his butt plopping on your comforter as you stand in between his legs.

“no,” is all you say, a knowing smirk on your face as you watch his eyes flame with something like arousal and disbelief.

he shakes his head and watches you walk to your closet, throwing himself back on your bed with a silent groan and a plea that, tonight, you don’t push him too much.

but a few hours into the night, a few too many beers in mingi and your own growing attraction toward him has the night leading in that direction.

you knew mingi was a good dancer, something you learned at one of these parties last year. it was the only thing that made you smile on those nights actually, watching the boy go from bumping and grinding to jumping around like a kid with a sugar high.

and lucky for you, tonight, he was going with the former. his body placed behind yours, not a stitch of alcohol coursing through your veins, as you guys dance and giggle and and talk to a few people from his classes.

it’s something very casual, nothing innately sexual about your moves other then your bodies are close and you can feel his groin against you. but you’re both just moving to the beat, your head thrown back on his shoulder as a girl tells you all about mingi’s public speaking skills, or lack thereof.

“he gets sooo red it’s actually kind of cute,” she tells you, the wink she throws your way making you both share a smirk; because anyone with eyes can see that, embarrassed or not, terrible at public speaking or not, he’s cute.

“ehh, he’s okay,” you tease lightly, his hold on your waist tightening. you squeal when his cold hand touches the sliver of skin exposed from your shirt, elbowing him lightly before turning around and poking at his cheek.

“what?”

“i’m okay?” he mocks, the look on his flushed face making you giggle into him.

“well, what do you want me to say?” you ask, cocking your head to the side in a way you know is gonna cause trouble. but you wanna push him to that point, the excited warmth fluttering in your chest when he looks at you in a way that makes you feel wanted.

you hadn’t been able to see it at first, mingi’s clear affection and liking toward you meanwhile he thinks it was there even when you were with wooyoung; but of course, he knew better than to act on it, watching your smile and laugh from afar and hoping that wooyoung knew how lucky he was.

because he’s pretty sure since the moment he met you, when you came in holding wooyoung’s hand with a small, shy smile on you flushed face, he even wanted you then.

but now, it’s like the roles have switched. now, there’s a very drunken, very pissed off wooyoung standing across the room wishing he could be the taller boy.

he’d been watching you two since the moment you arrived, what sparked the alcohol he guzzled down in a matter of a few hours after he told himself he was done drinking.

yeosang told him to stop drinking beers so he moved to shots and that’s why he’s currently stumbling around and muttering under his breath, already the defeated, shitfaced boy no one wants to be at a public event.

he knows he shouldn’t feel it, the anger brewing inside his chest at seeing you and mingi pressed up one another flirting. but he is. he’s so fucking mad and jealous and seething, it’s only a matter of time before the slightest bit of sanity he has left breaks.

makes him stomp over and grab you in a way he knows isn’t right. in a way he knows will make you hate him even more; but maybe that’s why he does it. just completely self destructing because seeing you again, and seeing you with someone else, has really put things into perspective for him.

that he’s not the sweet, perfect boyfriend he thought he was and, instead, someone very flawed and toxic. someone who hurt you and is now expecting a second chance solely because he loves you.

someone who, after seeing his ex girlfriend try to move on and build up her confidence again, ends up stumbling over and grabbing her by the arm anyway.

one second you’re looking up at mingi and smiling and the next your neck nearly snaps off, looking down at the tight grip on your arm as you hear a familiar voice growl to the taller boy that you and him need a minute.

you don’t know why or how mingi allows it to happen but suddenly, you’re outside. the cold air surrounding you does nothing to calm your burning veins, ripping your arm from wooyoung’s grasp and pushing him back with all the strength you could muster.

“what the fuck are you doing?” you ask, not even have spotted the boy all night. “i told you not to touch me.”

“i know you did. and i know you hate me. and i also know i deserve that but-”

“no shit,” you snap, taking a step backward and looking the boy up and down who you barely recognize right now. he still looks like the person you once loved but his demeanor is so incredibly different, eyes hazy and bloodshot from the alcohol you can smell on his breath.

“i miss you,” he mutters lowly, the drunken slur to his words making your stomach twist. “i just...i just wanna talk, y/n and if you still-”

“i don’t wanna talk to you.”

and if wooyoung was sober and in the right frame of mind, he wouldn’t have approached you to begin with. he wouldn’t have dared put his hands on you again and begged you for a second chance like he did that fateful afternoon.

but because he’s a mess, because he’s been a mess for the past several months, he looms over you and keeps his eyes on you as the next words leave him.

“but you wanna talk to mingi?”

“don’t you dare start that shit,” you spit out, every angry, red-hot emotion searing up in your veins - but you’re happy it’s not tears, at least. you think if you cried in this man’s presence again, you’d have to hide away for the rest of your life. “you don’t get to do that.”

“i don’t get to feel jealous that i can’t talk to the girl i lov-”

and similar to the slap you gave him that day, when you walked in and saw another girl in his lap, you can’t stop yourself when you do it this time either. have him taint that word and feeling for you anymore than he did when he lied to your face for months.

“it’s your fucking fault, wooyoung. you did this. you cheated on me and completely proved that that’s not true,” you snap, anger-filled eyes burning into his. “so don’t say that to me.”

“you don’t know what i feel,” he counters lowly, a slur to his words that has you knowing this is not the time for this conversation.” i’m telling the truth.”

he stumbles closer to you and you’re so focused on staring him down that you don’t see his hand move to your waist.

“you don’t know how much i fucking regret it. please, baby, if you’d just-”

“get away from me.”

“get away from me,” you say, attempting to rip your hands from his grasp. but he only tightens them and brings you closer to him.

“just please, give me five fucking minutes, y/n, so we can finally-”

“if you just listen to me, maybe you’ll-”

“stop,” you say, struggling to pull your hands free. you need to get away from him. you can’t hear him sound this pathetic and sad and begging.

“stop. let go of me, wooyoung,” you say, voice firm and strong despite how shaky and upset you’re getting on the inside. the familiarity of this scene is too much, his desperate pleas and your building sadness and hurt making a lump form in your throat.

“did you know i was drunk when it first happened?” he slurs out, his glossy eyes looking at you with such pathetic desperation. “i didn’t even know what the fuck happened the next morning. i didn’t remember anything, not even how i got home.”

you swallow down any response regarding the first incident, feeling tears burn your eyes as you shake your head at him; you can see she completely took advantage of him but...

“but what about the time after that? and then the time after that?” you ask, watching as his face falls and you feel heart break in a way it hasn’t in months; he may be telling the truth about the first time but if that really were the case, it wouldn’t have happened when he was stone cold sober on a friday morning.

“what about those two months after, wooyoung?” you voice aloud, begging the tears behind your eyes not to fall. “were you shitfaced then?”

“no but i-”

“exactly,” you spit out. “you knew what you were doing then. so get the fuck off me and leave me alone.”

“i can’t, please just-”

“wooyoung, stop.”

it’s mingi’s deep voice that pulls you and wooyoung out of the heated discussion, your ex tightening his hold on you and attempting to pull you behind him.

he doesn’t wanna lose you yet, you’ve been gone for months. even if you’re fighting and even if you hate him, he’s selfish and he needs you. he wants you still.

“you stop, mingi,” wooyoung growls, a new type of anger flooding through him. he releases his grip on you and stumbles toward the much taller boy, seemingly unfazed by the size difference as he shoves him back.

“if anyone should be pissed here, it’s me. stealing my fucking girl like some little bitch.”

“she’s not your girl anymore,” mingi says lowly, his eyes and body tense as he stares down wooyoung. “if you weren’t shitfaced right now, you’d remember that. and you’d remember why.”

“you’re such a-”

“enough, woo,” you say quietly, the nickname that rendered him hurt three weeks ago when you said it making him snap his head back to look at you; and before you can see his softened, glossy eyes, you warn him to never do this again before you turn to go home.

you hear footsteps follow behind the whole way, knowing that it’s mingi and knowing that his head is probably trained on his feet right now. you don’t stop walking until you’re at his car in the campus parking lot, leant against the side and looking up at him for the first time in twenty minutes.

he sees unshed tears in your eyes and his face immediately crumbles, about to take you in his arms when you hold out your arm and shake your head.

“please... don’t ask me to come to another one of these.”

guilt immediately consumes him and his adams apple bobs, a quick nod of his head before he pulls you into his chest. you sniffle against his shirt and inhale his scent. you couldn’t help in the beginning but compare him to wooyoung, the different smell of his cologne and broader chest under your head.

it was a good different but you hate that, even after an exchange like the one you and him just had, your mind still goes back to wooyoung; you still think about him and compare them and maybe that’s why you’re crying right now. too

“i’m so sorry, y/n,” mingi mumbles against your head.

you don’t even realize there’s tears on your face until he pulls back and wipes at them, that broken feeling within your chest so painful it feels like you’re about to collapse.

“i hate him, i really do,” you whimper out, shaking your head and wiping at your red face. “i...why did he do it? i thought i was over it, mingi. why am i not...” your voice breaks and you shake your head, struggling to breathe and get the words out in the cold air. “i fucking hate him.”

mingi can only hold you and rock you gently, his warm arms never leaving you as he tries to mend your broken heart. it’s something he’s been trying to do for months and will continue to do, wanting nothing more than for you to be free from the damage wooyoung did.

and if it were that easy, he’d be able to look at this moment in a few months time and see this was when his love and affection for you shined through and helped you. helped you see that there are other people who want to help you and be there for you, who will try their best to treat you better than the boy who hurt you.

but, unfortunately for him, things are never that easy.

you threw yourself into work and school in a way you’d never done before.

if you weren’t doing study sessions with a few people from your classes or spending nights in the library, you were busting your ass cleaning tables and dealing with overly nice college kids who attempt to make up for the mean and bitter middle-aged.

true to mingi’s promise that october night, he never asked you to go to another party again; instead, he’d crash your movie nights afterward, only ever staying at the frat house for an hour or two because “they get old real fucking quick.”

but he never says the same thing about your friday and saturday nights, even though they religiously consist of laying in bed, eating junk food and watching cheesy romantic dramas.

so whether you were taking pity on him or your study groups pleas to meet them at a bar down town finally got to you, you were en route with mingi and a far too chatty uber driver for a night of “much needed fun and drinking,” as one of your friends put it.

“i’m kind of scared,” you mumble to mingi, a smile pulling at his lips at your innocent confession. you’ve never been to a bar before, let alone one that is known to serve under age kids and is raided by the cops monthly.

“i’ve never been here but i’ve heard it’s fun. the music is pretty good and there’s a live band that-”

“are you two a couple?”

you and mingi eye each other suspiciously, a smirk playing on both your lips at the man’s awkwardly blurted out question. it’s almost as awkward as you saying yes when mingi says no, the taller boy’s face falling as his head snaps to you.

“wait...i mean...yes?” mingi says, hand going over your mouth as you hold back a giggle.

you both hear the man laugh out a response, you far too consumed by mingi’s shocked face while he’s still trying to process why the hell you had said that. he can see it’s all teasing and fun though, a glint in your eye that makes it obvious you were only saying that to quell an uncomfortably nosy question.

but he’s not ignorant to the fact of how much he wants that to be true.

“why would he even ask that?” you giggle out as you two walk into the bar, not a bouncer or real id in sight. “right in the middle of our conversation, no less. what a weird thing to do.”

a smile creeps up on mingi’s face as he already sees the effects of your three spiked seltzers from back in your dorm, his hand brushing your hair behind your ear. his eyes linger on your pink cheeks and he has to stop himself from laughing, the two of being pulled from the moment just as it started.

“maybe because he thought we looked-”

“y/n!”

the familiar squeal of your lab partner’s voice causes you to jump, mingi’s body still close to yours as you say hello and introduce them to each other.

“for tonight, this is mingi, my boyfriend,” you tease, the wink you throw his way causing him to shove you playfully.

the girl can only watch with a smirk, knowing that when she drags you to the bathroom in 20 minutes because she broke the seal, she’s gonna have to ask you all about that.

“hi mingi, boyfriend of the night,” she says, the shy but handsome smile he throws her way all too endearing. her hands falls into yours as she beckons you both to the dance floor, dragging you away just ahead enough to ask if you plan on keeping him longer.

you only roll your eyes and push her playfully, looking back to smile at mingi who’s watching you in a way that makes you think, tonight, you’re finally gonna kiss him.

or that could just be the alcohol coursing through your veins, another cup of vodka and something, you don’t even know what your friend asked for. but it’s good, cold and sweet and you’re gone enough where you can barely taste the sting of alcohol going down your throat.

you wouldn’t say you were drunk, courtesy of the huge meal you and mingi had back at your room, but you’re definitely a little tipsy. tipsy enough to dance without a care in the world, not distracted by the big groups of people or much too stuffy environment.

you were there to have fun and dance, any problems from school work or shitty customers or a lingering ex-boyfriend the last thing on your mind.

you haven’t seen wooyoung since that october night, when he was far too drunk and far too emotional and made you cry far too similarly like when you first broke up.

it’s always a sad, hopeless cry, knowing that you shouldn’t still be hurting but feeling it deep within your gut that, whether you want to admit it or not, you still were. you were still hurt by the betrayal of someone you loved so much, even though you wished you could just turn those feelings off.

and despite all of these feelings inside of you, you’re surprised to learn that, in your impaired state, you’re not a sad drunk yet. you’ve been laughing and smiling and dancing, bouncing your attention between your study group friends and mingi who spotted a few guys from his classes.

which should’ve been the first indication that wooyoung was lingering around this bar.

he spotted you a few times during the night but knew better than to go over, remembering the last time he saw you, he got a well-deserved red mark on his cheek. he also saw how mingi watched you, a soft fondness in his gaze that hurt him as much as it comforted him.

because he thought you’d be safe with him tonight. that he wouldn’t let you out of his sight or allow you to stumble off to the bathroom by yourself.

but when the several cups hit you all at once, an unpleasant pressure on your bladder, you told the group you were gonna go pee and walked off without any response. it was so fast, one minute laughing and dancing and hearing the pounding music in their ears and then the next realizing you weren’t there.

“oh...my god, my hair,” you whined in the mirror as you washed your hands, brushing through the frizzy, knotty strands.

“it looks bea-beautiful!” another tipsy girl smiles, stumbling over to you and holding herself up on the wall. “don’t be silly!”

a giggle bubbles out of your mouth as you look at her in shock, her three friends coming out and praising each other is a similar way.

it’s an oddly intimate and sweet ten minutes in the girl’s bathroom but it keeps you smiling even on your way out, waving goodbye to them before you turn back around and bump into someone’s chest.

“oh, i’m sorry, i-”

“it’s okay, pretty,” a deep unfamiliar voice says, his voice far too brash and flirty for your liking. you look up to see glossed over eyes and a smirk covering his sweaty face, the faint scent of alcohol and b.o making you queasy.

“how’re you doing tonight?”

“i’m fine,” you say, every bit of you now sobered as you watch his predatory gaze. the bar is still pretty crowded but the bathrooms are dark and off to the side, something you hadn’t even noticed in your tipsy state.

“you here with someone tonight?” the boy asks, eyebrow raised suggestively as he takes a step closer to you.

you swallow nervously as you nod politely, a tight smile on your face when your heart starts to pound. something innate within you is scared, the dark vacant corner only making you more nervous when your back hits the wall behind you.

“you’re pretty. so i guess it’s a boyfriend, huh?”

“yes,” you say shortly, wishing you could push him back or or yell or slap him the way you did wooyoung. “so if you’ll excuse me, he’s probably wondering where i-”

but before you can move around the boy, a clammy hand on your elbow pulls you back to the wall. you immediately feel your heart drop into your stomach, panic setting in as your eyes shoot up to the man’s face.

you don’t like the look behind his beady, glossy eyes and if you can’t get away within the next few seconds, you’re probably gonna scream.

“now hold up now,” he says playfully, the slur in his words and stale smell of beer on his breath only making this worse. “maybe i’m b-better than your boyfriend,” he hiccups in your face, breath wafting in your face and making it pinch together.

“i don’t think so,” you hum under your breath, shaking your head as you pull your arm out of his grasp. “so please leave me alone now.”

but he doesn’t.

“hey, hey, hey, wait,” he says, a crooked smile on his face as he blocks his bigger body with yours. “just give me a chance, yeah? let me buy you a drink?”

your eyes flare and fists clench at his persistence, the way he’s inching closer to you and not taking no for an answer really making you mad. making you ready to stomp on his foot and kick him between the legs.

“c’mon, your boyfriend doesn’t even know you’re gone,” he says, an attempt to sound sly and convincing only making your skin crawl even more. “he’s probably with some other chick. let me show that i’m much better than him, babe.”

his hand reaches out to touch your shoulder, a clammy thumb running along your bare skin. “he doesn’t know how good he has it if he let a pretty little thing like you walk off alone.”

“i know how good i have it actually,” you hear a voice mutter, one that, up until this very moment, would’ve made you angry or sad; but now, you don’t think you’ve ever been more grateful to hear him.

you hear footsteps coming closer and each one fills you with relief, the thought that he’s about to kick the shit out of him the least of your concerns.

“so i suggest you take your fucking hand off her.”

your eyes meet the tight ones of wooyoung over the boy’s shoulder, his jaw clenched and gaze calculating as he debates ripping the guy off of you and shoving him against the wall or tugging you behind him.

he goes with both.

taking you by the hand gently but firmly, your body bumping his as he puts you behind him. and then similar to how you were caged in, wooyoung does the same to the boy an inch or two taller than him; but it’s like neither are even aware of that.

wooyoung’s body is stiff and rigid, the vein in his neck popping out as he stares down the guy. what freaks the creep out the most is, even by how pissed and dark this psycho is looking at him, his gaze looks...careless. like he wouldn’t even hesitate beating the shit out of him despite the way they’d be thrown out of here in three seconds.

“didn’t know you were real, dude,” the man stutters out, as if that is a good enough excuse to pin you against the wall and harass you.

and wooyoung must find it absurd too, a scoff leaving his mouth as he cocks his head to the side.

“would it matter if i wasn’t?” he growls lowly, his body hot and angry as he takes his shirt in his hand. he wraps it around it to the point of choking the guy, his body thrashing underneath his hold.

“get the f-fuck off me you psycho.”

“you don’t like it, do you?” wooyoung asks, a sinister smile on his face as he steps closer to the boy. “being caged in by a fucking lunatic? are you scared now?”

your eyes widen at the dark tone in wooyoung’s voice, your quiet call of his name falling on deaf ears. he’s too focused on not beating the fuck out of the guy in front of him, his hand tightening as he decides to throw him into the corner of the wall.

you watch the man’s head smack off the wood trim and immediately screech, a chastising call of wooyoung’s name that has him grabbing your hand and heading for the exit.

you’re about to object until you see he’s only bringing you outside the bar, sitting you down on a bench outside and welcoming the cold night air; it’s mid-november, only a week until thanksgiving break, and it’s unsurprisingly very bitter out.

he helps you sit down before letting out a shaky sigh, his hands running through his hair like he’s trying to calm himself down and not run back in to finish what he wants so desperately wants to. he’s pacing slightly and you’d be probably be scared if it was anyone else, watching his jaw tick and vein pop in his neck.

“you’re jeaaalous,” you tease your boyfriend of three months, watching his eyes follow two boys who had talked to you after class; you’d become friendly with them the first day of classes, their bright smiles and funny remarks immediately making you feel comfortable with them.

“no,” he growls lowly, his hand wrapped around your waist the whole time you go to your locker. you bite down on your lip to hide your smile but it does nothing to keep your giggles at bay, your back pressed up against the cold metal as he looks over your face.

you cock your head to the side and smile teasingly at him, your thumb soothing over the ticking vein in his neck. the feel of it under your skin makes you wince a little because it seems almost dangerous, like his head or neck is gonna explode.

“no?” you repeat, cocking an eyebrow as he looks at you in disdain. “then what’s this?”

his hand reaches out to grab yours, quickly interlacing your fingers as his other rests next to your head on the cool metal.

“nothing,” he responds dumbly, dipping his head and hiding the possessive flare in his eyes as his next words fan over your ear. “i just don’t like seeing someone with my girl.”

you shake your head of the memory and see wooyoung making his way over to you, the boy slowly kneeling in front of you as he meets your glossy gaze.

“you okay?”

you lick over your dry lips, a lump already forming in your throat at his closeness and the softness in his voice. you can tell by his eyes that he hasn’t had a stitch of alcohol tonight, everything about him looking so similar to the boy he was last year during this time.

before things went to shit and before he started the double life you both still haven’t recovered from.

you don’t know if you could get the words out if you tried so you can only nod, your cold hands in one another. it feels as if a little bit of everything about the past five minutes has sobered you, fear and comfort and the coldness that should be alerting you to get away from the boy looking at you the way he is.

but you can’t seem to do that, lips pressing into one another when you feel that lump growing bigger and bigger. you think you stop breathing when he reaches up to cup your cheek, his warm palm on your face for only a few seconds before you let out a shaky breath.

you know this isn’t good. that you and him together alone right now isn’t good. months of telling yourself you hate him and that he should rot before seeing him before your eyes and knowing that a part of you still cares for him.

“wooyoung,” you mumble warningly, that breaking feeling within your chest knowing you can’t have him touching you.

his face falls at the same time as his hand, splayed out on your jean covered knee in a way that feels so foreign but familiar. his hands are smaller than mingi’s but there’s something about them that almost makes you feel more comforted, remembering the times like this he would hold you and make you feel better.

made you feel like no one would ever hurt you because he was there.

“i’m sorry,” he says quietly, his voice deep and full of genuine sorrow.

but you don’t know what exactly he’s sorry for. for the drunken man, for him touching you, for what he did? you go with the first one, because you’re not ready for the conversation the other two need.

“not your fault,” you hum quietly, trying to talk through the growing lump in your throat. “just a drunk asshole.”

“not about that,” he laughs out humorlessly, rising from his spot below you and sitting down next to you. he’s close enough to where you can feel the heat radiating off his body but your arms aren’t touching - just a few centimeters separate you.

“i’m sorry about our last conversation. it...wasn’t fair of me to do that and say anything to you.”

you shiver as a biting gust of win blows past, your arms wrapping around yourself as you simply nod. you can’t really think of what to say. because you don’t wanna say it’s okay, it’s not, but he also seems genuinely apologetic.

“i’m trying not to drink anymore,” he explains to you, not quite sure how to take your silence and choosing to fill it. you can hear some embarrassment laced in his voice, his eyes trained down on his dirty sneakers. “it’s...caused me nothing but problems.”

caused him to lose you and fuck up time and time again. misplace all of his priorities and transform him into a person who lost his happiness in the span of a few months.

“i messed up that night obviously, though,” he chuckles out, not a trance of humor in his tone as he meets your gaze. usually it’d be him watching you be nervous but now he can feel the shift in dynamic. that even though you’re still uncomfortable and nervous too, you still have the upper hand.

you can decide right now if you’re gonna start this conversation or tell him to go fuck himself.

“i’m sorry you had to witness that. i know it was really fucking shitty of me.”

“it was,” you agree quietly after a few silent seconds, wooyoung’s heart dropping in his stomach as he prepares to get his ass handed to him. “but i don’t know if that second slap was warranted.”

that loud high chuckle you’d always complain was ear piercing bubbles out of his mouth and you can’t help but bite back a smile at hearing it, resisting the urge to giggle right along side with him.

“it definitely was. i was a dick.”

you only shrug your shoulders, something pulling in your chest the more you two sit down beside one another and actually talk. not curse or slur words at each other or put your hands on the other but actually have some sort of discussion.

“it wasn’t right. what i did.”

and then just as you were starting to feel good about all of this talking stuff, your heart falls in your stomach and you wanna run from away from this conversation. a part of you doesn’t wanna reopen these wounds but another part of you knows they were never really healed or closed.

especially not after seeing him again.

“i can’t even tell you why or what happened because i don’t even fucking know. i missed you even though we saw each other and talked a lot but...she was just always fucking there. would never leave me alone and i was so stupid to not realize it.”

that’s something he always reflects back on, how you saw something the first day you met her but you both chopped it up to insecurities.

“and then i think i just started to lie because i loved you. which doesn’t even make sense because you don’t lie to someone you love. but i was so selfish and desperate to keep you. i knew you’d leave me.”

“no shit, wooyoung,” you can’t help but say, the quiver in your voice one you can’t stop as you hear all of this from his mouth. “the first night when she kissed you drunk, you should’ve told me. the fact that you didn’t...makes me thing you knew it was gonna happen again. without alcohol.”

“i didn’t tell you because i thought you’d be mad. i know i would’ve been.”

“i don’t think you’d be mad if someone took advantage of me,” you confess quietly, something you now know was absolutely the case. “but truthfully, it wasn’t even that, woo. you lied right to my face when i asked you in my room that day.”

“we’re just friends,” he says and you bite the inside of your cheek so you don’t scream; you hadn’t said anything like that so why is he telling you that? “she only texted me for the schedule, love.”

you look up to meet his gaze and see a frown on his lips, his eyes trailing over every part of your face.

“do you trust me?” he then asks suddenly, seeing all of the doubt and hesitation over your face. you immediately nod your head, feeling tears burn the back of your eyes at the idea of starting a fight.

“then why does it seem like you don’t?

“you made it seem like it was me. and that’s why i really tried to fucking hate you,” you confess, voice wavering and watery and you even hear how it sounds like you’re about to have a break down. “being with her was bad and me needing to see that was bad but you...lying like that was worse.”

he swallows the lump in his throat as tears sting his eyes, his jaw clenched and eyes on the concrete so tears don’t fall.

“a part of me thinks i should hate you,” you say after a few silent moments, wondering if he’s even listening to your words anymore. “but i...” your voice breaks and the cold air stings your watery eyes, successfully (and thankfully) halting your words.

and whether wooyoung noticed your shivering or saw your eyes, you feel him move beside you before his sweatshirt is placed around your shoulders. the scent of his cologne could make you burst into tears on the spot, the teakwood scent you loved so much further overwhelming you.

“thanks,” you mumble quietly, his hummed response the only sound between you two for the next few moments.

the muffled music and chatter from inside the bar could be heard from the street but it seems as if no one is out tonight. just you, wooyoung and the lingering silence that comes with sitting beside an ex who hurt you and an ex you’re still in love with.

it just so happens that, for you, both of those are still the case. no matter how much you wanna deny it or pretend that’s not the case, him sitting beside you and giving you soft little smiles is making you weaker than you wished.

you know you should get up and leave, tell him this isn’t a good idea and that you should go back inside to mingi and your friends. but it’s like your brain and your body are at a complete disconnect, welcoming the warm heat from his jacket and the strangely comfortable presence of him beside you.

“i still love you.”

the wind blows by at the time he says that and, at first, you think you made it up. that your deluded mind is hearing things and you really are just far too vulnerable and upset right now.

but the when you peak at him, you can tell by the look on his face he’s not sure if he said that either. actually confessed to you in such a way he knows is wrong and unfair but just couldn’t stop because to the core, he’s selfish when it comes to you.

he always has been.

“i always will. i always did.”

and when you feel yourself start to break, the tears burning at the back of your eyes coming to the surface, you feel the anger and spite finally leave your body and be replaced with a sad, pathetic version of it.

“i don’t know how i’m supposed to believe that,” you whimper out quietly, your eyes roaming his face in a way that breaks his heart; your eyes look so sad and defeated, he just wants to pull you into him. “i don’t even know why you’re saying this to me right now, woo.”

but he knows it’s in the way you still call him that with ease, like you don’t even realize you’re saying it and it’s just completely natural, that that’s exactly why he’s saying it.

that he wants you to see, even though he made a mistake, there’s still something to hold on to.

“i miss you,” he tells you softly, his voice low in a way that makes you swallow the lump in your throat. “i really fucking miss you, y/n. and i love you.”

“you’re not being fair,” you whimper out, the tears brimming your eyes falling down your cheek as you look at him. that’s when it really hits him how much he hurt you, how much you avoiding him and blocking him out of your life was meant to shield you from this.

“that’s not fair at all, wooyoung. what am i supposed to do? just forget it? believe now that you love me? you said the same thing then.”

“and it was true then,” he says, his tone more desperate and tight. “it was a mistake, y/n. the first time and the times after that. they’re lousy excuses but i’m being honest.”

he reaches out to wipe your tears and you can’t find the energy to pull away, exhaling a shaky breath when his thumb wipes at your face. his touch is gentle and soft and makes this moment even more hard for you, the look on his face making your heart wrench in your chest.

“please, baby. i know it’d be hard but if we could just-”

“don’t. please.”

you pull your face away and shake your head as you look at him, wiping your wet cheek with the back of your hand.

“you’re not about to honestly suggest we date again? are you out of your fucking mind?”

“no no no. not date,” he’s quick to clarify, his hands up in innocence. “if we could just be friends. friendly. not...avoid each other and argue every time we see each other.”

he lifts his hands to your face again with a pout on his, swiping both thumbs under your eyes; you notice his own eyes are teary but don’t even wanna think about him crying in front of you.

it hurts you as much as it enrages you, remembering the last time he broke down in front of you.

“i don’t want you to cry every time you see me,” he mumbles lowly, his gaze looking over your face with such affection you can’t bear to look at him anymore.

“i don’t...i want...i...”

“i’m never gonna trust anyone ever again. do you fucking realize that, wooyoung?” you cry, his voice ringing in your head from january, when now you know he had already been with her, asking why you didn’t trust him. “you were with her and turned it around on me and asked why i didn’t trust you.”

“i want you to trust me.”

but he says that like it’s easy. like you can just so easily forget everything and trust him blindly. like he didn’t do anything wrong.

“i don’t know, wooyoung.”

he sees the fear and apprehension flickering behind your eyes, a sigh leaving his mouth as guilt starts to wash over him. he shouldn’t be doing this right now. he shouldn’t be asking you to do this when he’s not even sure you’ve forgiven him yet.

he shouldn’t be feeling this intense want and need to have you to himself again.

you both hear the faint sound of the door swinging open but pay no mind to it, too lost in the intense gazes and buzzing air between you two. you know you shouldn’t be considering this just as much as he shouldn’t be asking but here you are, actually considering his words right now.

“just...think about it?” he offers, eyes glinting with hope and affection that would usually soften you in a second. “i know it’ll take time but maybe we can just try?”

you lick over your cold, chapped looks as you look at him, every part of you knowing you should be saying a big fuck you and fuck no to him.

“i’ll wait for you again,” he adds, a hint of teasing behind his words as he thinks about your first few months together. him sitting with you every day during lunch and you outright ignoring him for half of them. watching as your confused expressions and sneers slowly morphed into smiles and giggles.

realizing that, he was right to think you guys were good for each other, because being with you was one of the easiest things in the world when he wasn’t being a fucking asshole.

“you barely waited,” you grumbled lowly, remembering the events from high school a lot more along the lines of him buying you snacks, asking you to a different movie every weekend and not giving you a moment to yourself during lunch.

“a whole two months actually,” he says, the amusement in his voice making a sad smile cross your face. he can tell it’s sad by the way it doesn’t meet your eyes and it makes his heart hurt just a little bit, his hand moving to yours so your cold fingertips brush.

“i’ll wait as long as you need this time. and if you decide you don’t want to be friends...that’s fine, too. i’ll...accept it and never talk to you again.”

you hate the way your heart pangs with hurt at that idea, terrified and embarrassed by how fast things changed in three months. how three months, you never wanted to see him again and now the prospect of that is physically paining you.

but could you put yourself through this? should you put yourself through this? he could be lying again. he could just be-

“y/n?”

mingi’s deep voice pulls you from your thoughts as you jump at the sound of him, your eyes meeting his confused, cautious gaze before quickly snatching your hand away from wooyoung; but it’s obvious he already saw how close you guys were, on top of the fact his sweatshirt is wrapped around your shoulders.

“you okay?” mingi asks as he looks at you, his gaze shifting to wooyoung and hardening every so slightly. “why are you upsetting her? haven’t you done enough?”

“mingi, it’s-”

“some drunk asshole was harassing her because someone let her walk off alone,” wooyoung says to the boy, standing from his spot next to you and walking over. it’s at that time your friends come out and their eyes light up upon seeing you, quickly rushing over and dabbing at your red, damp face.

mingi and wooyoung continue to have a stare down as you’re bombarded by drunken coos and sticky hands, the taller boy watching you carefully before wooyoung clears his throat.

“guy said she had a boyfriend but that’s not the case, is it?” wooyoung says, the shift in him to being conniving and mean at the way he sees the boy looking at you. “no matter how much your bitch ass wants it.”

“fuck you,” mingi spits out, “you don’t deserve to even speak to her after what you did.”

“you don’t deserve to give me advice after you tried to swoop in and steal her.”

“she’s not something to steal, asshole. i’ve actually been there for her, wooyoung,” mingi says, his tone deep and gruff as he resists the urge to thrown him up against the wall. “watching her cry and get through the shit that you inflicted on her.”

the words effect him just as much as mingi wanted them too but he’d never let the boy know that, instead narrowing his eyes and shoving the boy backward.

“our shit’s between me and her so maybe fuck off for once and leave her alone,” wooyoung says, popping his neck to the side as he watches mingi’s jaw tighten. “look like a pathetic little puppy following her around.”

“more pathetic than pining after someone you cheated on? you know you fucked up and now that she’s moving on, you’re pissed.”

“who the fuck said she’s moving on you-”

“mingi, we’re gonna go.”

it’s your soft voice that breaks up their lowly growled conversation, wooyoung’s dark eyes changing as he turns back to look at you. you hold his gaze for a few seconds before meeting mingi and the boy can’t even lie in saying it hurts how much more comfortable you seem looking at him.

wooyoung can barely hear mingi mumble his response, letting out a groan when the taller boy shoulder checks him and says “they’ll see him around.” the boy bites back a snarky comment as you meet his gaze again, flickers of hope and confusion and fear in your gaze.

he can only assure you with a soft smile and hope that you really see he meant every word he said.

“i couldn’t even tell if he meant it, you know,” you tell mingi on the walk home, wooyoung’s sweatshirt still hanging from your body.

the walk from the bar to your dorm is only about twenty minutes, you and mingi’s hands bumping clumsily as you walk down the main road.

“like he seems sorry and he just said we’ll be friends. but i can’t....actually trust him again. what he did was wrong and i can’t just forgive him.”

mingi’s been quiet during your rant for the past few minutes, only the occasional hum or nod assuring you he’s even been listening. but it’s when you crane your neck up to look at him you see his face is...unusual.

expressionless, almost, in a way you never see on the usually happy and smiley boy.

“mingi? are you okay?”

“hm? yeah, i’m sorry,” he says, shaking his head before his arms bumps into yours.

your eyebrows pull together in suspicion, about to ask him if he’s even been listening before he beings to talk again. “do you actually feel that way, though? that what he did was wrong and that you can’t forgive? or do you just think you should feel that way?”

“i-”

the question strikes you more than you thought it would. because the answer seems obvious - you shouldn’t wanna forgive him. you should know what he did was wrong, know it in the way loyalty and trust is such a crucial part to relationships.

but forgiveness is where that line gets blurred for you.

hearing him and seeing him look and sound apologetic was hard. thinking back on your relationship and remembering how good you guys were together was hard. trying to put yourself in his situation, although you’re not sure you would’ve been in it in the first place, was hard.

and it’s not like he’s asking you to trust him and be his girlfriend again.

you’re just gonna...slowly repair your relationship again, right? but when you utter that thought to mingi, his feet stop moving and he looks down at you with an unconvinced expression.

“you say that, y/n, and i wanna believe you,” he says, his hand toying at your fingers as he tries to remain gentle and calm. “but...i don’t know. you guys looked...”

the softness and affection was obvious, the possession and love behind wooyoung’s eyes matching your soft but fearful gaze was eye opening.

if he didn’t know any better, he would’ve seen a couple making up from a fight. a happy, loving couple who was able to get past a hardship in their relationship and would be able to thrive again.

“what?”

“you guys looked like you were...together. i thought i interrupted something,” mingi says honestly, remembering how you jumped away and your hands and face followed. “kind of seemed like you guys were gonna kiss.”

“mingi, that’s definitely not-”

“and look, if that’s what you want, that’s fine. but, please, y/n. you have to be careful. you can’t forget how much he hurt you and really have to consider if he’s being-”

and maybe it’s because you just wanted him to stop talking about it. or because your mind is muddled and confused and still swirling with the effects of alcohol and the tension with wooyoung. or because, underneath all of this drama, a part of you also has come to like mingi.

or at least, the comfort and feelings of affection and desire he gave you. he’s been there for you since the beginning and after a few months, you always thought this moment was gonna happen. you just didn’t know when.

you didn’t know when one of you was gonna grow the balls to kiss and see what happens after that.

it takes him a few seconds to respond before you feel him kiss you back, lips parted and his hand in yours moving to your hips. he pulls you against him the more you kiss, like you’re pouring every emotion you’ve experienced tonight into him while he’s pouring every emotion he’s held back for months.

he just doesn’t know that at the time.

he just knows that you pull back and smile at him in such a pretty way, a blush on your cheeks and glint in your eye as you tell him you really are only considering a friendship with wooyoung.

but you go home that night not thinking about the kiss or mingi’s sleeping body beside you. you go home thinking about how nice it feels to be wrapped in wooyoung’s familiar scent and jacket.

almost like, when you close your eyes, you can pretend the body next to you is his.

truthfully, you didn’t know how that kiss was gonna effect the dynamic between you and mingi. you didn’t know if things were gonna be awkward or different or if now all of the expectations changed.

but even that night when he dropped you off, and stayed for a sleepover which was not unusual, you curled up in bed with a bag of chips and your laptop as you each shared a headphone.

and nothing felt different.

you two just went along with your usual relationship, not even mentioning the kiss until it became something that happened a day ago. then a week ago, then two weeks ago, then over a month ago, until it kind of seemed like something you guys were never gonna talk about.

but school and work kept you both busy anyway, the last few days before christmas break full of studying for finals, finishing projects and dealing with the holiday rush of customers stocking up on sugary desserts and espresso shots.

among those customers in the coffee shop was wooyoung, the boy coming in three times a week for his usual order of black coffee and a chipotle chicken club.

at first, you could tell the remnants of your conversation outside the bar were lingering. you were both apprehensive, his eyes guarded and voice overly polite every time he ordered or thanked you.

you kept up your professional attitude but still felt that familiar feeling of nervousness bubbling in your stomach, torn between giving him another chance as a friend or saving yourself the possibility of getting hurt again.

but it was in the little things he did over the weeks of him coming in that eventually wore you down.

when a particularly unpleasant customer gave you shit, he was quick to jump in like a ‘good samaritan,’ share a not-so-nice few words that had you biting back a smile and instead telling him it was okay.

he always ordered two drinks by accident, his black coffee and an iced coffee that would sit on his table for a few minutes before he came back over to you and your coworkers claiming he didn’t need it anymore.

but he knew it was your favorite drink and he could tell you needed a pick me up, working well into the evening until the sky fell dark and streets grew empty.

which brought him to his current predicament, the last person in the coffee shop while you closed up alone on the not so decent side of town; he noticed you closed alone on thursdays and it never sat right with him, watching it happen for two weeks before deciding he wasn’t gonna allow it anymore.

“hey, we close in about ten minutes. can i get you anything else?” he hears you ask, his head snapping up from his phone. there’s a rag in your hand and a small, polite smile on your face, looking him over warily.

“oh nah, i’m good,” he says, a shake of his head and a small laugh leaving his mouth. you purse your lips to the side and nod unconvinced, going back to the counter to finish cleaning.

you let out a small sigh when you realize you forgot to text your roommate to come pick you up, your car in the shop and god knows how much money down in your back account. but before you can even get to her contact, you hear wooyoung coming your way.

“thanks again, y/n, ” he says, gesturing to his empty cup of coffee in hand.

“you’re welcome! have a nice night, wooyoung,” you smile politely.

you think that maybe saying his name over and over will remind you of what he’s done to you, halt the stupid butterflies in your stomach that erupt every time you see him enter the coffee shop or catch him looking at you.

he smiles but doesn’t respond, only looks you over before looking out the window and then back at you.

“so, how’re you getting home?”

you press your lips together as you now realize why he’s been lingering tonight, a scoff leaving your mouth as you shake your head at him; he must’ve noticed your car not in the parking lot before.

“i was wondering why you were lingering,” you mumble, a chuckle leaving his mouth that makes a small, uncontrollable smile pull at your lips.

“knew you were on to me,” he quips playfully, winking as he goes over to the garbage and throws out his cup. “lemme drive you home.”

“i was gonna call my roommate to get me, it’s okay,” you insist, wiping out your phone again and scrolling to her name. you hear his footsteps approach you again, his hand reaching out slowly before gently falling onto your arm.

and even though you heard him, you still jump at the contact, what feels like an electric shock zipping through your skin you know is all in your head.

“c’mon, y/n, that’s not necessary. i’m here,” he whines slightly, eyes pleading and soft with a smile you’re trying so hard to resist. you lick over your dry lips and narrow your eyes slightly, letting out a sigh when you can tell he’s not letting up.

and it’s late. it’s so late and you’re tired and still have two papers to finish and edit tonight. you might as well, right?

“fine.”

he smiles happily before guiding you to the front door, watching you lock up before you silently walk to his car. he opens the passenger-side door and you give him a strange look, never having seen him do that before, before thanking him.

the car ride is quiet and awkward and cold for the first few minutes, you softly giving him directions before he turns on the heat and you sigh in relief. he side-eyes you as you put your hands to the vent, relishing in the hot air on your cold skin and he can’t help but smile at the sight.

“hands are still like icicles, i see.”

you look over and see the smirk on his face, probably remembering how when things were different, you’d warm your hands up on his skin despite his screams. sneak your hands under his shirt when you’d star gaze at night or hold onto his arm and giggle as he begged you to take them off him but never made any move to get them off.

“always,” you say shortly, a slightly strained but breathy giggle leaving your mouth that makes his heart pull in his chest.

the quiet hum of the car surrounds you both for the next few moments, an unspoken tenseness in the car from the reminder that, last time you were alone, he said he still loved you and you had a breakdown. he begged to be friends again and you left him without an answer.

an answer that’s now lingering between you two, trying to decide if this is gonna be something that’s able to be repaired in some way or you’re both gonna let the fond memories and old feelings die out.

you can’t even lie and say you weren’t going back and forth about it some nights, when your bed seemed too cold and memories were playing and, for some reason, your thoughts of mingi weren’t enough.

but you were terrified. every part of you was terrified to open this relationship back up just to possibly be hurt again. put your time and effort into him and make more memories that could potentially be tainted again.

you suppose that’s a risk with any relationship though, because mingi hurt you too and look at you two now; you don’t think your friendship with him has ever been stronger.

you let out a sigh as you wrack your brain, so lost in thought and the building ache in your temples that you’re barely able to hear wooyoung call your name.

“y/n?” he repeats, smiling softly when you look over at him in a daze and hum lowly.

“you good?”

“y-yeah,” you stutter, cheeks flushing a warm pink that wooyoung’s always sworn is the cutest thing about you. even more cute than when you stutter over your words or lick over your lips when you’re lost in thought.

“i...i was just thinking...” you continue a few moments later, your heart saying fuck it because your brain seemed to have lost this battle a while ago.

“about?” wooyoung prods gently, looking over at you as he stops at a red light; he can see your apprehensive, your quietness and shifting eyes one of the telltale signs.

“about...what we talked about the other night,” you say, peering over to see him watching you patiently, softly, so much like the way he’d watch you in the beginning.

“about trying to be friends.”

his eyebrow raises and he can feel a lump already forming in his throat, the smile he puts on his face one to disguise how fucking nervous he just became. because he was serious, no matter how selfish he’s realizing he is, if you tell him you don’t wanna be friends, he’s gonna respect that.

no matter how much it’ll pain him.

“and?” he asks, tightening his hand on the steering wheel when his eyes fall to your lips; watching as your tongue swipes over them before meeting his gaze again.

the look in his eyes makes more butterflies erupt in your stomach, a soft intensity that momentarily makes you forget everything he’s done; it also might be responsible for the next words that leave your mouth.

“i...think we can try.”

and you didn’t know it at the time but that was that sentence that sealed your fate for the next two months, mirroring the happy smile wooyoung throws your way as your heart lurches in your chest.

his hand twitches to take yours in his but he knows that’d be absolutely inappropriate so he only grips the steering wheel tighter, thanking you softly and promising that he’s not gonna fuck this up.

and for the next week, he doesn’t; you two fall into a schedule you would’ve never anticipated at the beginning of the school year.

he comes in a few hours before your shift ends, studies for finals with cups of coffee and desserts until he’s the last one in the building with you. he helps you clean and close up, his signature high-pitched laugh echoing through the empty walls when you smack him with a rag or yell at him for trying to steal another cookie.

he brings you home every night, your finger tips colliding as you warm your hands with the vents and smile shyly when the sensation from your skin meeting zips through you.

it’s a dark and clear night tonight, what seems like darker than any other december night, and there’s hundreds of stars in the sky. it’s something you both notice but don’t have the hearts to comment on, both of you catching the other peeking out the window or admiring the sight above you at a red light.

you bite down on your lip when he catches you, a blush creeping up on your face before you stutter out a question. the first one that comes to mind.

“you excited to be going back home?”

the smirk on his face is so obviously teasing but you don’t have the stomach to be snippy right now, grateful when he decides to play it nice tonight and answer without calling you out.

“how ‘bout you? your parents must be so happy.”

“they are. not happy that i’ll be using their car all break but i think they’re still happy,” you giggle out, wooyoung looking over at you an eyebrow raised.

“it’s still fucked?”

“yeah,” you sigh out with a shrug. “it’s okay though, it’ll definitely be fixed by the time i’m back for the spring.”

“that’s true but then how are you getting home tomorrow?”

and that’s how you ended up driving home for christmas break with wooyoung, his pleas, your apprehension, your parents confusion and mingi’s utter disapproval making the trip a very questionable one.

but it had made sense, you guess, saving your parents an hour drive to a destination wooyoung would be going to anyway.

“y/n, are you sure you’re okay with this?” mingi had asked, sitting atop your bed as you folded your clothes into a suitcase. you noticed the way the smile fell from his face when you told him, your stomach twisting as something that strangely felt like guilt began to surface.

but you shook it off and smiled softly at the boy, insisting that an hour with him would be okay.

“he’s been coming to work and driving me home every night this week, mingi, and i haven’t had a breakdown yet. it’ll be fine.”

the boy doesn’t find your comment assuring in the slightest, narrowing his eyes at you and feeling something pull in his chest. he doesn’t think you’ve realized how much you’ve drifted this week, small things that maybe he’s being too sensitive about or thinking too much into it.

but he’s wondering why you never asked him for a ride. or why the texts you’d usually send him about rude customers or funny co-workers have dwindled this week. he’s wondering why, for some god forsaken reason, your eyes are brighter and there’s a look on your face that just seems happier.

ignorance is bliss though and that’s why mingi just nods his head at you and opens his arms, smiling into your hair when you agree to take a quick 30-minute break for an episode that turns into almost three hours of cuddling and giggling.

“that’s not what happened at all!” you squeal, hitting wooyoung in the arm as he incorrectly recounts meeting your parents for the first time.

“there’s no way i did that!” he says, his lips quirked up and a laugh bubbling in his chest.

“you literally did! i almost died, that’s how i remember so well,” you screech, never forgetting that the first time you introduced a boy to your parents over dinner, he patted his lap and told you to take a seat.

wooyoung bursts out laughing the same way he did then, your mom looking at you two half in amusement and half in shock while your dad didn’t miss a beat and patted his lap for his wife in return; you were both pink in the face and smacked their arms playfully.

“your dad always liked me, i never understood why and now i certainly don’t.”

you bite down on your lip to control your growing smile, the two of you sharing memories the whole ride down.

it’s probably the worst thing to do at a time like this, where you’re both back in familiar settings, with a hundred different reminders and memories of one another. where you now only have each other and an old group of mutual friends with way too much free time you don’t know what to do with.

“you were funny i guess,” you tease lightly, a small giggle leaving your mouth when he side eyes you with mock annoyance. “remember when you got him the toilet golf for christmas?”

wooyoung throws his head back in laughter again and you both giggle and squeal for him to keep his eyes on the road, hitting him in the arm playfully as you tell him it’s still in his bathroom to this day.

“he’s probably real good now, too,” wooyoung says with a wink, the roll of your eyes making him bite back a smile of his own. “what’re you guys doing for christmas this year?”

you share holiday plans for the remainder of the car ride, telling him that you’ll be going to your aunt’s a few hours away from christmas to new years day. there’s only about five minutes left until you’re home when wooyoung’s next words stir you into shock.

“maybe we could hang out when you’re back. go ice skating or something.”

you press your lips together as you look at him, his face relaxed and eyes on the road like the suggestion had been the easiest thing in the world. you don’t know that, internally, he was kind of freaking out. hoping he didn’t just back track all the progress you guys have made, just within this car ride even.

ice skating was something you guys did last year together, your hand in his before you promptly fell on your ass but he saved you every time. you were still newly dating and it was all very sweet and pure, cheek kisses and awkward fumbling which were the telltale signs that you were a new couple in the honeymoon phase.

“i....”

the words seem caught in your throat, knowing you wanna say yes because friends ice skate. friend hang out like that, this shouldn’t be a new concept to you.

he can sense your apprehension and quickly meets your gaze, his face falling before he’s quickly shaking his head.

“only if you want to,” he smiles softly, an uncharacteristic shyness on his face and in his voice. “if you’re bored and got nothing else to do, ya know.”

not because he desperately wants to be with you during this break. not because hanging out with you this past week has been the happiest he’s felt since almost exactly a year ago.

“no, yeah, sure. that’d be nice,” you eventually stutter out, a smile breaking out across wooyoung’s face that calms all the anxiety and tension in your body. you can feel this attachment is wrong and unhealthy but it’s like you have no control over it anymore, blinded by him and the memories and the way he makes you feel.

the way you watch his car drive off after he walks you to the door, already buzzing with excitement for your...friendly outing with wooyoung in the next few weeks.

the holidays pass as quickly as they came and soon enough, you’re running around your room picking the finishing touches on your outfit as wooyoung is set to arrive in a few minutes. he had called you this morning after he woke up, telling you to dress warm and that he’d see you later tonight at six.

you hear your door bell ring and your eyes widen, moving to the clock to see he’s, surprisingly, five minutes early. you deem your matching boots and jacket good enough, running down the stairs and to the door.

you’re only faintly aware of the fact you can’t see his head through the top glass window the way you saw mingi’s when he came to your house last winter, shaking the memory from your head and smiling when you see wooyoung standing there with a cup of hot chocolate.

“hey b...y/n,” he smiles, his heart pulling in his chest so much he almost slipped up and forgot you’re only friends. but you just look so pretty and this feels a lot like a date, his stomach twisting and heart pounding in such a foreign way; he hasn’t been on a date since...

“hi! thank you, woo,” you smile softly, taking the cup from his hand and ushering him inside quickly. “just gotta find my keys. my parents are still at my aunts.”

“was hoping to see your dad, ask him about his golfing skills,” wooyoung teases, not coming to terms with the true anxiety and shame he feels knowing the older man definitely knows what he did to his daughter.

but if he does, you don’t make any indication of it; only smile at him and nod your head toward the couch, telling him you’ll be ready in a few minutes. he goes into the living room and smiles upon seeing your christmas tree light up with white lights and homemade ornaments.

your house smells of vanilla and the fireplace is crackling, a perfect warm contrast to the cold, biting weather outside. he plops down and watches the fire crackle, the heat warming his face and making him lean back with his eyes closed.

the warmth of the fire makes him melt further into the couch, sinking back into the comfortable couch until it almost feels like he could fall asleep.

you walk back in a few moments later and see the sight before you, your eyes widening and heart lurching because fuck. he has no right looking like that, sprawled out handsome and relaxed on your couch with the soft fire glowing on his face.

your eyes rack down his body quickly, his eyes closed and legs spread, head tipped back against the couch in a way that looks like he... you have to shake your head out of the daze, your own cheeks flushing because you feel like an absolute gawking pervert right now.

even though you’re painfully aware of how long it’s been since you last...

you shake your head again and make you way over, his eye peeking open upon hearing your footsteps, your pink cheeks and wet lips making him swallow and twitch in his seat; you look so fucking pretty tonight.

“hey,” he smiles, voice gruff and low as he looks you over. “you look nice.”

“you too,” you smile softly, your eyes moving from him to the roaring fire. “do you like it?”

but his eyes are still on you, roaming your body in a way that has his cock straining in his pants. he’s missed you and fuck has he missed those parts of you, too. he can see something behind your eyes but he’s not sure if it’s just his own lust creeping up on him, a hunger that he never thought he’d see again from you.

“like what?”

his voice is deep and gruff and sounds so rough, you have to stop the shudder from going through you. you can only swallow the lump in your throat, trying to ignore the sensation ripping between your legs as you look at him watching you.

with eyes so dark and lustful you can only hope that your own desire isn’t imagining it, staring back at him as you lick at your dry lips and remind yourself to breathe.

“th-the fire,” you say nodding your head toward the flames he was entranced by before. “do you like it?”

“oh,” he laughs out, the lump in his throat and growing arousal far too much right now. “yeah, i do. it’s nice.”

you nod your head as you look down and play with your fingers, bag hanging from your shoulder as you watch him from the middle of the room. the air is thick and the room feels 100 degrees, your heart pounding in your ears as you hear the whipping wind outside.

that’s where you guys should go right now. in the cold. around people. not alone in a hot space that’s only getting more and more tense.

“i...should we go or?”

he looks from you to the window to the fire and then back to you, a small pout on his face as he leans himself back on the couch. “five more minutes? it’s so fucking cold out and this is nice.”

you almost wanna say no because the tension is too thick right now but you also don’t know if you could move if you tried, nodding your head as a quiet “sure,” leaves your mouth.

the room is silent and you’re looking at him while he’s watching you, the need to swallow becoming more and more prevalent before you cock your head to the side.

“is it really cold out? should i wear something heavier?”

you know you don’t have to. this is your heaviest winter jacket, you just need to say fucking anything before you do something you might regret. or not regret at all, anything to feel relief and remember the way his lips feel against yours.

“no, that should be fine,” he says, smiling as he looks over your outfit and face again. “you look good. really good.”

a shy smile crosses your face and you feel a blush creep up on your face, looking down at your boots that may or may not be new.

“thanks. so do you,” you say softly, meeting his gaze and biting down on your lip when he smiles teasingly at you.

“is that why you’re all the way over there?”

your eyes narrow and breath hitches and you almost think he knows how much he’s effecting you right now. how long it’s been since you’ve had any sort of contact with another person that wasn’t completely platonic or pure.

“shut up,” you mumble, taking a few small steps toward the couch but still keeping your distance. he raises an eyebrow almost challengingly and that’s when you feel yourself growing more suspicious, cocking your head to the side as you blatantly look him over.

you watch him roll his tongue over his lips before looking into the fire place, that familiar tick in his jaw and neck making you smirk before feigning innocence again.

“you really like that, don’t you?”

his eyes raise to you, not a trance of teasing or amusement on his face as he look at you. it’s all dark and lustful and you don’t know where this is all coming from but it’s creeping up on you fast.

“the fire, i mean,” you add, nodding your head toward the furnace again.

his eyes narrow and jaw clenches, your teeth sinking into your lip to stop the smirk from creeping back up on your face; but it must not help completely because you watch a different sort of look cover wooyoung’s face.

one you haven’t seen in a long time.

“a lot of smart ass remarks for someone who’s standing across the room,” he bites back, eyes widening and cock twitching when you shrug your shoulders and are suddenly standing right in front of the couch.

you can only look down at him with a small smirk on your face, eyebrow’s raised as if to say now what are you gonna say? but you should know by now that wooyoung is almost never speechless or action-less, spreading his legs out on the couch just a little bit more before a teasing smile crosses his face.

he repeats the actions he did that first day meeting your parents, tapping his lap again as he licks over his lips and tells you your seat is still here. he knows it’s a risk and so do you but it doesn’t stop you from looking over his body, everything in you screaming that if you do this, there’s no going back.

you’re gonna be back to where you were months ago, caught in a cycle of worry and fear and all-consuming emotions, something dangerous and draining when a person like him knows they have power over you.

but right now, after the past three months of going back and forth with him and sorting through your emotions, you just wanna forget everything. turn your brain off for a second and do something, anything, that’s gonna make you feel something other than sadness and anger and confusion.

“come here.”

the command is gruff and deep and makes your lower stomach swoop, your fingers falling to zip off your jacket before your bag lands on the floor with a plop and you’re straddling your cheater of an ex-boyfriend right on your living room couch.

your lips collide and he groans at the same time you moan into his mouth, a mess of open-mouthed kisses and tongues that feel so pent up and natural, it’s like neither of your brains are on.

when you move against him and feel his hard cock under you, it only spurs you on to do it more. press your body into him and wrack your fingers through his hair.

he growls into your mouth and places his hands on your hips, his finger tips digging into your shirt as he disconnects your lips for air and travels down your neck.

his kisses are wet and sloppy but you throw your head back anyway, every part of your body burning and begging and aching to be touched by him. and it’s like he knows it, he still knows every part of your body better than you or anyone else in the world, sucking a hickie into your neck as his hands cup your ass.

“jesus christ, y/n,” he growls into your skin, your eagerness and closeness and warm body against his making all the blood go right to his cock. you can feel it pressing harder against you and let out a whine, pulling his face away from your neck so you can crash your lips against his again.

it’s a flurry of kissing and sucking and biting, your own hands ripping your shirt over your head before wooyoung’s face is in your chest and sucking hickies onto your skin. you lean your head back and let out a whine, your hand tightening in his hair before you push him back and pull at the bottom of his shirt.

he can only smirk at the pout on your face, pulling you into him and placing a kiss on your cheek. “still so fucking good for me, aren’t you?” he hums lowly, waiting until you nod for him to pull his shirt off and place a smack on your ass.

it echoes through your empty house and you let out a whine, pushing yourself against him before he takes your face in his hand.

“and you’ve only been good for me still, right?” he asks lowly, his voice deep and possessive in a way you’ve never heard before. it sends butterflies right through your stomach and in between your legs, wetness pooling in your underwear as he tightens his hold on you. “no one else has fucked you, right?”

and you know that should be the tipping point.

you know you should rip yourself away from him and slap him again, ask him why the fuck that matters when you know for a fact he’s been with someone else too. he’s been with someone while lying to you and acting as if everything was okay. that you were never indebted to him after the breakup and you still aren’t now.

but instead, you shake your head and look at him all wide-eyed and glossy, your breathy “only you have fucked me,” making him growl before flipping you over and ridding you from the rest of your clothes.

he falls to his knees before pulling to the edge of the couch and devouring your dripping pussy, his tongue lapping at you in a way that makes you scream out and push yourself against him. your stomach is tightening and legs are shaking and you can’t stop the moans that are leaving your mouth, repeating his name like a mantra as he slips a finger in.

“oh god, baby,” he growls against your wetness, your hole so tight around his finger he can’t wait to be buried inside of you.

“let- let me ride you,” you beg despite the way you’re still pushing yourself on his face. it’s a pleasure you don’t ever want to stop but you also wanna feel him inside you, missing so desperately what it feels like to be full of his cock.

“ah, ah, you gotta come on my tongue first,” he demands lowly, curling his finger inside of you and making you cry out. “you’ve been such a good girl for me. don’t get bad now.”

“b-but i wanna-”

he sucks your clit into his mouth and you scream out, legs shaking and hips bucking into his face before your orgasm hits and you’re shaking against the couch.

you barely have time to catch your breath before he lifts you up and pulls you on top of him, guiding you over his cock before you sink down on him and you both moan out at the same time.

“oh my god,” you whine out at the same time he grunts “fuck,” your movements slow and easy as you adjust to his size in you. but once the slight sting has dulled and he feels you relax slightly, he pulls your face to his and connects your lips.

“now ride me, baby. i know you’ve missed sitting on my cock, haven’t you?”

with your hands gripping the back of the couch, you nod as you start to lift your hips up and down, leaning forward every so slightly so you can feel something against your already stimulated clit.

“answer me. who’s are you? who’s cock have you missed sitting on?”

“y-you, wooyoung. you. i’ve- i’ve missed your cock,” you whine, your hips moving more frantically the more you bounce up and down on him. your breaths are labored and the room feels at least 30 degrees hotter, his grunts and groans and your high-pitched yelps filling the festive living room.

“you don’t know how long i’ve been waiting for this tight pussy again,” he growls out, when he feels himself getting close and needs you to come again before he can release inside of you. “i...you’re mine, baby. you fucking get that now, don’t you? you’re mine. and you’ll always be mine.”

“yes,” you whine out, frantically moving against him before moaning out when he starts fucking up into you. “yes, yes, yes. yours, wooyoung. p-please come, let me come, i wanna feel you-”

his last final grunt cuts you off and you feel your own orgasm take over, both of you riding out your highs and moaning each other’s names over and over until your ears are ringing and hearts are pounding in your chests.

you’re faintly aware of his hand rubbing up and down your back, his lips pressing a soft kiss against your head before he pulls out of you and lays on the couch.you close your eyes and let out a tiny whine at his exit, a small smile lingering on wooyoung’s face as he grabs a baby wipe from the bathroom to clean between your legs.

you smile lazily at him when you see him between your legs, cheeky fuck he is placing a teasing kiss between on your clit as he walks away laughing at your squeal.

he collapses on top of you when he’s back, holding himself up so he doesn’t crush you completely and places another kiss on your neck. he peppers them down your skin and you can only smile, still on the high of your orgasm and feeling loved that you can’t register all the other emotions fighting to break through.

fear and confusion and maybe even slight panic, realizing you just gave in and fucked the life out of the ex-boyfriend you know you’re supposed to hate.

the doorbell ringing is the first thing that brings you back to reality a few minutes later, jumping up and nearly smacking wooyoung in the head had he not also lifted his head. his eyes are wide but not as bad as you, a smirk on his face as he asks if you’re expecting company.

“i don’t think so?” you say, pulling on your jeans before you start to frantically search for your shirt. wooyoung’s quick to throw you his, a knowing smile on your face because you remember how much he loved to see you in his clothes after you guys had sex.

and that hasn’t seemed to change.

“it’s definitely not my parents, they’d just use their key,” you assure him, attempting to fix your messy sexy hair that wooyoung’s always thought was the sexiest shit. “i’ll be right back.”

as you walk through the kitchen and peer out the front door, it feels like time stops when you see a familiar head of hair through the window. it’s like an exact parallel of the day mingi came to see you when you guys made up, except you hadn’t just fucked wooyoung on your couch.

and sure enough when you open the door, there mingi is with a handful of flowers and a large cup of tea in hand.

“hey! sorry i’m late, i can’t believe how much-”

his face drops the moment he takes in your appearance, messy hair, flushed pink cheeks, hickies on your neck, and an inside-out t-shirt that leaves little to the imagination of what you just got done doing.

“traffic there was,” mingi finishes quietly, staring back at your surprised, shocked face in a way that makes his heart drop in his chest - you didn’t remember.

“i...hi,” is all you dumbly say, the high from before quickly vanishing as you stare at mingi who’s looking more broken-hearted and confused by the second. it’s already making you wanna cry, his usually starry eyes dim and confused as he looks you over.

“did...you forget i was coming?” he laughs out, humor in his tone that sounds so horribly masked you have to hold back tears.

“happy new year, y/n! let’s hope this year brings us-”

your aunts words are cut off by blaring of your phone, mingi’s name popping up on your screen making a smile break out across your face; you’re not surprised he’s the first one calling to welcome you into the new year.

“you should get that,” your aunt smirks, a blush on your cheeks as you shake your head and tell her it’s not like that.

but she thinks the smile on your face says otherwise, the giggles and laughs and the way you throw your head back as you talk to the person on the other end of the phone.

“i should be back in two days, you can come see me then drama queen,” you smile into the phone, mingi’s whiney complaints that he misses you so much, he doesn’t think he remembers what you even look like. “i’ll be home around six, i expect you there with flowers and a hot beverage.”

“oh my god.”

guilt like you’ve never experienced rushes through you all at once, face pale and mouth open as tears build up behind your eyes. mingi can see them building and already knows what’s happening, a lump forming so tight in his throat he can only shake his head.

“it’s okay, y/n.”

because he saw the car across the street; he thought, maybe, it was a coincidence - ignorance is bliss, after all, but he knew your reaction was gonna be the only thing he needed to see. and the tears in your eyes makes it pretty obvious what’s going on right now.

“wait. no mingi, it’s not. please. just let me-”

“no, it’s okay, really. i- i should’ve told you i was still coming. how were you supposed to know?”

“we talked two days ago. i- i remember talking and planning it, i just...”

wooyoung called me, too. wooyoung called me and asked to go ice skating and it was like after that, everything else was gone from your memory. you were so consumed by that you forgot you were supposed to-

“it’s okay,” he assures again, a small sad smile on his face as he holds out the flowers and drinks. “consider it a special delivery.”

and when you don’t take it, just continue to stare blankly at him, he places the drink and flowers on the steps and turns around wordlessly. because he’s not about to break down and have this conversation with wooyoung in the house, have you explain yourself when he obviously misunderstood things here.

he’s just about to his car door when he hears your footsteps running after him, his eyes closing tight to fight off the few small tears building in his eyes.

“mingi, wait. please wait, i-”

“it’s fine, y/n. i...i was stupid,” he laughs out humorlessly, turning around and looking over your already tear-stained face. “i misunderstood and that’s okay. i...we never officially said we were doing hanging out and i-”

“you didn’t misunderstand anything,” you’re quick to tell him, your mind completely clear as you take in mingi’s dejected face; you know you’re both not only talking about tonight’s plans.

you’re talking about the past ten months together. the friendship you built and the lingering touches and smiles. the way you made each other feel so safe and content and at ease. the way you only ever really smiled and laughed around one another.

his face looks familiar now though. his entire demeanor looks familiar, except you think you recognize more because you remember feeling like you looked a lot like that last winter. like you saw something you shouldn’t have and felt hurt in a way no one’s hurt you before.

and you think those might’ve been the wrong words to say because within the next few silent seconds, mingi’s face morphs from devastation to the smallest hint of anger you’ve ever seen from him.

“don’t say that.”

tears fall from your eyes and you feel like you can’t breathe, watching him grip the handle of his door like he’s dying to get the fuck in his car and away from your house.

“if...if i didn’t misunderstand anything, y/n, then i... this...” mingi shakes his head because he can’t even fathom this whole situation right now. but he knew from the beginning your relationship was very up in the air, the two of you never officially claiming to be anything.

“we never talked about anything. our feelings or the kiss, so i did misunderstand things,” mingi confirms again, because this rationalization is easier. not feeling the need to hate you and yell at you and ask what the fuck you were thinking is easier.

“i thought you were just...you know, figuring it out still so i didn’t wanna pressure you. but maybe that was wrong, maybe you just never wanted-”

“mingi, please. no. i know this looks bad but we can-”

“y/n?”

wooyoung’s voice makes you both freeze, you keeping your gaze on mingi while his goes to the boy at the door. you can’t see the challenging look in wooyoung’s eyes or the smug look on his face, mingi’s hand tightening on the door as he tells you he’s leaving now.

“what?” you cry out, eyes wide and watery as you shake your head frantically.

you know you’re being unfair and you know this is over but you can’t help but hold onto just for a second longer, your heart pulling so horribly in your chest, you’re not sure you’ve felt pain like this before.

“i’m leaving, y/n. get away from my car, okay?”

he keeps his voice soft and sweet and quiet, begging you to just go back to wooyoung as he keeps his eyes trained away from the boy. because he knows if he looks at him again, he’s gonna run over and beat the shit out of him.

“mingi, please, i didn’t-”

“it doesn’t matter anymore,” mingi says coldly, voice a bit harsher and louder. “just get away from my car.”

“i know it looks bad but please, mingi, please, i didn’t mean to-”

“get the fuck away from me.”

your face falls and lower lip quivers, mingi’s face crumbling before he runs his hand over his face. he takes a few deep, calming breaths before his large hand cups your face, daring wooyoung to come over and say something right now, as his thumb runs over your cold skin and wipes at the wetness.

“i’m sorry. i just...i have to go.”

“i didn’t mean to hurt you,” you blurt out, knowing and seeing clear as day that’s what happened. “i didn’t know... we never said...i...”

you don’t know what to say but you know this all feels very fucking wrong. you know that you feel like you messed up one of the best friendships and relationships you’ve ever had, the pulling feeling deep within your gut making you wanna vomit.

“i know, y/n, it’s okay,” he assures gently, his hand falling from your face and making you feel ten degrees colder. “i just gotta go, okay? please.”

your face crumbles as you find that you can’t look away from him, only backing away when he’s able to open the door and wedge himself in.

he turns on his car and puts it drive before he can even put his seatbelt on, his eyes never leaving yours until he’s taking off down the block and suddenly the neighborhood is quiet.

you hear footsteps making their way up behind you but can’t move from your spot, staring at the spot his car just occupied before arms wrap around your body.

you can feel now that they’re far too cold and far too short and feel far too wrong. how could you have not felt this before? known that this just didn’t feel right?

“wooyoung’s my friend but so are... so were you.”

you watch mingi’s fingers rest on the couch cushion next to you as you let out a small, shaky breath, something about his words causing you to look up and narrow your eyes.

“were?”

a pink, dare you say, nervous, blush crosses his face that causes you to hold back a laugh, his eyes wide as he shakes his head quickly.

“are. you are my friend,” he clarifies quickly, unsure eyes still roaming you. “i just...wasn’t sure if you still wanted to be.”

his stammered words coupled in with his pink cheeks and dark, wind-blown hair have a small smile stretching across your face, a sigh leaving your mouth as you shake your head at him and shrug.

“well, i guess i can’t lose you too, huh?”

“i’m happy you’re mine again,” wooyoung whispers in your ear, his breath ghosting over your lips in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. “we can work through this, okay? you know how much i love you, baby.”

but do you really know that? what about when the next girl comes along, with dark hair and a pretty smile and makes him feel so desired, he just tells you that again because he knows, in the end, you’ll believe him?

the end

tag list: @mochibabycakes @atinyarmyx1 @middle-of-a-wonshua-sandwich @minbinwhore @chrryhwa @chogiout @marksflvr @bunbaebae @markleeyeosang @inkigayeo @nlost21 @toffee-hwa

#this is so twisted and toxic #but alas angst won again <3 #dont take back a cheater irl!!#the love alarm s2 debacle was also very self indulgent #wooyoung #mingi #wooyoung angst #mingi angst #ateez angst #wooyoung scenarios #wooyoung imagines #mingi scenarios #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #mingi smut #wooyoung smut #ateez smut

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takenbyheartstrings · 3 years ago

Text

PUB QUIZ

this is for @tomhollandfics 2022 fic event! go check it out <3

summary: every saturday sucks, until it doesn't.

pairing: enemies to lovers!au, tom holland x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT!!!, angst, fluff, swearing.

word count: 9.2k

authors note: hope you enjoy!! also did not proofread so sorry if there's any weird/confusing bits!

Prompts: “I act like I’m jealous because I am!” “That was the prettiest sound I’ve ever heard,”

ADD YOURSELF TO MY TAGLIST HERE or send me an ask :)

It was no secret you hated Tom Holland. Forced to be friends by everyone around you. Your friends, your parents, your brother. It was no secret that Tom Holland hated you too. There wasn’t a memory where you couldn’t remember not bickering with him and not arguing. It was something so natural for the two of you. Sometimes, you, however, couldn’t even remembered where it started. You couldn’t remember the day you had decided to hate him. That’s why you always dreaded Saturdays. He was the reason you dreaded Saturdays.

You loved his brothers his parents. They were lovely people, they always seemed to make you feel at home. They were kind to your brothers and kind to your parents. Tom was kind to your brothers and parents, not to you at least. At some point you got tired of the arguing and bickering. But, alas, your pride couldn’t be overcome. So that lead you here. Arguing and bickering with Tom Holland once again.

You sat outside the Holland house in your car on a Saturday afternoon. The time was five o’clock, and dinner was usually served at six. Your boyfriend lays a hand on your thigh, sighing. He never liked Tom, from the moment he met him. He hadn’t liked what you had told him about Tom either. How this feud had carried on since the two of you little, which James decided to voice his opinion and call it childish, to which you shut down with a small glare.

James’ hand squeezes your thigh softly, “We can tell ‘em you’re sick if you don’t wanna go in.” He smiles, “Full vomiting and everything, I can pull out all the stops.”

You roll your eyes, “You say that every week and every week I say no.”

He shrugs, “One day you might say yes then,”

You and James had met almost two years ago, it was cliché, but he had offered to buy you coffee after calling you pretty, to which you looked at your shoes and smiled back up at him. Ever since then the two of you hit it off. You brought him to the family dinners on the third month of the two of you dating, to introduce him to your family and the Hollands – who certainly counted. Nikki and your mother gushing over how attractive he was and congratulating you, and being the only sister at these dinners, the fathers and brothers continued to test him.

But the whole time Tom was uncharacteristically silent. He hadn’t said anything, hadn’t made fun of James for picking you, nothing not a peep. In fact, he had his dinner, took about three bottles of beer to his room and left. Didn’t make a good impression on James and certainly hadn’t won any points with you – you expected even if he was a shitty human being toward you, he would be nicer to the person you had graciously invited to the family dinner. You and Tom were practically family, whether the two of you liked it or not and you expected better.

The two of you got out of the car quickly after your mother had texted about seeing James’ car across the street. You both walked inside as you carried a pot of creamy mac & cheese that you made every Saturday morning. Paddy, Harry and your brother Harley (who was the same age as Paddy) always ate all of it, leaving almost nothing for you. Even if you made a larger pot, they all found some way to fit it into their mouths and stomachs.

You put the pot onto the dining table, as James went out to the backyard to say his Hello’s to everyone, and Tom closed the fridge making you jump slightly. Taking a swig of beer, deciding to hand you, his bottle, offering you a sip of your own. You had no idea what was going on.

Was he being nice? Was he trying to poison you?

You decided no on that one since he had just taken a sip of his own. Your eyes remained interlocked with his as you took a sip, placing the glass bottle back down on the table. That was the first thing that had happened that fucked with your brain for the rest of the night. Tom had stayed talking with your brother and his own, James joining in the conversation not long after, leaving you with the parents. The father’s talking about golf, your mother noticed you zoning out and shook you a little.

“You alright, y/n?” She asked, you only nodded your head. Unable to say anything else, still stunned from your exchange with Tom earlier.

You sighed, feeling flush, making your way to the bathroom quickly, wiping your face with water and a towel. You opened the door to be met with James' face, a look of concern taking over his features as he looked at you. You felt tired, and your exchange had been the only thing on your mind. Why'd you feel like this?

"You okay?" James questions you as the two of you stand in the doorway of the Hollands' downstairs bathroom.

"Yeah 'm just a little tired." You spoke softly a small smile on your face as you looked up at James who seemingly towered over you.

James leaned down, pressing a kiss to your lips as you were soon both interrupted by a loud scoff, there stood Tom. His arms crossed as he rolled his eyes. James face flushing a bright red colour and you looked down at your shoes, "There are rooms in this house,"

You rolled your eyes back at the curly haired boy, "Oh! Great Idea, next time we'll use yours." James' hand wraps around your waist with a smirk as you both look at Tom.

His jaw clenches but not because of what you said - okay, maybe a little, but instead because of the way James' hand slithered around you. How smug the boy looked. But Tom had never seen you so flustered by James, at least not in the way he had by offering you a sip of his beer. Tom always managed some way to fuck with you on Saturdays. Sometime's it would be small, winking usually got you all tied up, but today he had taken a step further and he was enjoying the show.

Tom slowly took a sip of his beer once more and kept his eyes on you. Holding your gaze as you gulped, he winked at you and walked away. James' hand tightening around you as he did so. James looked down at you softly, noticing your sick expression.

"You sure you're alright?" James questioned.

You could only nod, smiling back up a him, "Y-yeah." A tight lipped smile placed on your lips as you took yourself out of his hold and made your way back into the backyard, sitting down next to your mother.

The rest of the night went by quickly, you ate a perfectly good steak by your father and Dom. Enjoyed a beer or two before realising you were the one who had to drive because James had one too many to drink. Plastered, he got into the passengers seat, his hand set on your thigh, burning your skin.

The next Saturday was the same. Tom teased to finding ways to make you flustered. He was enjoying it till you started fighting back. There it was. The competition, the rush. Your boyfriend sat beside you as you took a swig of beer, holding Toms eyes, letting out a moan as you finished, your boyfriends hand gripped your thigh. This was dangerous but you couldn’t stop and neither could Tom. You had never thought about Tom in any other way than hate before. It was weird feeling something different. But the quips and rude comments continued.

“God, Y/n, how much can you fit in your bloody gob?" Tom comments as you shove your third nugget, to join the two already in there.

It takes a second for you to chew your food and respond, but when you do, it's the most satisfying thing you could ever feel, "Wouldn't you like to know?" You winked in his direction, a smirk playing on your lips.

Your boyfriend bats your arm, "Y/N!"

You laugh, and Tom rolls his eyes, "Looks like James already knows." The two of you stop laughing and it was Tom's turn to smirk as he walked away, joining his brothers and yours in their game of football.

Four Saturdays later, you made your way over to your vanity, tonight the family was going to a pub quiz. Something that the family could all bond over, something that got you and Tom to work together. James had unfortunately missed the last couple you and the Hollands had been to. So, this would be his first time going to the pub quiz with your family, at least. You and Tom always forgot the hate on this night, it was weird, the second it started you were on each other’s team and the next Saturday the two of you were back to your usual bullshit. That’s why the family always loved pub quiz, you and Tom got along and there was booze. The only difference being, you and Tom got along.

You quickly applied some mascara and eyeliner to your eyes, styling your hair and slipping on a pair of jeans that fit perfectly around each part of your body and black tank top, Demin grazing your arms as you slid on a jean jacket. Feeling confident in the way you look, you smiled softly at yourself, James appearing in the doorway.

“Are you checking yourself out?!” He laughs.

You turn to him slightly mortified, “No, I’m not!”

He kisses your forehead before checking the time on his phone, “We best get going otherwise we’ll be late.”

You nodded as the two of you headed to James’ car, the drive was short and the two of you stepped out of the car, feeling a slight breeze, shivering a little, you made your way inside, and as you did the warmth hit you, letting your shoulders relax a little bit and your figure let a breath of relief out. You saw your parents, your brother and The Hollands already sitting at a table, as you joined them, Tom scoffed.

“James is slowing you down, you’re ten minutes late.” He rolls his eyes as James looks slightly offended, but the high that the two of you are usually on has already begun as you look at your boyfriend and back at Tom.

“You’re so right!” The two of you laugh as Tom hands you a beer, James stands there a little shocked but takes a seat next to your brother, as you’ve already sat next to Tom.

James bumped Harley on the shoulder, “What is going on with them?”

Harley chuckles, “The family calls this a holiday, it’s where Tom and Y/n actually get along due to the pub quiz. Paddy and I have this theory it’s because all their hatred is focused on everyone else since we have to beat everyone. I swear to you, they act like they’re in love or s’mthing.” Harley shrugs, as James’ jaw tenses.

He looks at you and Tom cracking jokes with each other as the quiz was about to begin, you and Tom turned to each other, grabbing the whiteboard, and writing down the team name the two of you chose every time you two did this. “Y/n & Tom.” Only because they were the only two who really played this. Everyone else just came for the drinks and Paddy and Harley would scroll through TikTok laughing at stupid shit. The moment James saw the team’s name was the moment he decided that tonight would be a long and jealousnight.

James couldn’t even comprehend why he was feeling jealous over the two of you as he watched you that night. You hated Tom. You did. You talked about it all the time. The way he would post something stupid on his feed and the way you would complain about him endlessly on the way back from Saturday night dinner. But apon coming to this pub quiz, which he had officially decided was a mistake. He saw you and Tom. He didn’t see the hate. He didn’t see your eyes boil with fire like every time you talked about him. All he saw was you and Tom.

All he saw was the way you and Tom bounced off each other effortlessly. All he saw as you and Tom high-five and or hug when you got something hard right. All he saw was the way Tom’s arm slung around you as the two of you talked and write down answers. The way you leaned into his body and the way Tom’s arm stayed there for majority of the time. All he could see was the way you held his hand when they would take a little bit longer than usual to announce the answer and the way you and Tom would look at each other when the relief of getting it right had finally hit. You had never looked at him like that.

But what James couldn’t feel was how warm you felt as you leaned into Tom. How you had forgotten your boyfriend was even there. How you held onto Tom’s hand for dear life when they would take too long and how when Tom would look at you, you would get butterflies in your stomach, fluttering around like crazy. How you could stare into Tom’s chocolate brown eyes for as long as you possibly could, intaking all his features before you started to hate them again next Saturday. But that was just it. You didn’t hate him, and Tom didn’t hate you either. But the difference between you and Tom was that he knew the day he decided to hate you. He knew the day that everything had changed for him.

You and Tom had never really gotten along, and he hadn’t known why. Sure, the two of you bickered and argued, but this day had just upped the ante for him the next week. He decided he would decide to hate you rather than let his feelings for you guide his distaste – his denial.

You walked into the backyard that evening holding James’ hand. A large smile plastered on your face. You had never looked at Tom that way and he envied it. He envied the way you held his hand. He envied all of James. He envied the way James could hold you at night. He envied the way James could take care of you when you sick or tired. He envied that James was the one who got to touch you and not himself. He hated the way you looked at him. He hated the way you looked at him because it wasn’t him. He hated every second of just looking at the two of you. He hated every second of you laughing and leaning into James’ body. He hated the way he could make you nervous and flush. He hated the way that wasn’t him.

That’s why he said nothing. That’s why he didn’t introduce himself. Because he shouldn’t have to introduce himself. That boy next to you. That boy next to you holding your hand and peppering kisses onto your forehead should be him.

That’s when Tom decided to hate you. Tom decided to hate you because he couldn’t have you. Because he couldn’t call you, his girlfriend. Jealously was soon the only emotion he would feel when he was around you. Because everywhere you went, you were with him. You were with James. But he was relieved when he hadn’t showed up to the first pub quiz, especially since this night was important to you, no matter how stupid it was. James knew you loved Trivia. Always opting to play a quick round in the car, testing James’ knowledge on facts that he thought were stupid, but you thought were necessary to know. Nonetheless for the years you had been dating James had never shown up to a pub quiz.

It was dickish of Tom to get closer to you like this, using your vulnerability as a way to become your friend, to give you platonic kisses on the forehead and your temple, the rest of the family was a bit surprised at first, but after a couple weeks of pub quiz, they grew used to you and Tom’s strange relationship. But it was also dickish of James – he would always complain he was too tired to go or had work to do. Which was a shitty excuse for an out because he had never liked trivia.

You had told Tom that on the first night he hadn’t shown up to the pub quiz – yes, you were drunk, forgetting the fact that you were supposed to hate Tom and he was completely sober, knowing he would have to drive his family home. But he didn’t care.

He just loved the sound of your voice, no matter how slurred your words.

But the day Tom started hating you was the day he met James.

But it seemed as though that day had never happened at all. Not in this moment at least. Not when Tom pressed a small kiss to the side of your head as you leaned into him once more. Forgetting James was even there. James looked around at the rest of the family, Harley and Paddy were laughing their asses off at some stupid video. Dom, Nikki and your parents were all in conversation over some TV Show they had all been watching, slowly shifting the conversation to Paddy and Harley and the school bake sale that would happen soon. The kiss is what made James mad. He was started to deal with everything else, but the way Tom had kissed your temple had shown a lot more of just innocence. Harley was right, the two of you were acting like you were in love with each other. The two of you acted like James had never existed in the first place. You had iced him out, neglected him almost the whole night and if James hadn’t slammed his hands down on the table before running out of the bar with his own jacket during the intermission, you would’ve continued to do so.

You jumped slightly, distancing yourself from Tom slightly as you got off your bar stool and ran after James into the cold night that came over the city, there were a couple lampposts lighting up the walkway and the neon sign of the bar that sat in the window, other than that night had completely fell over everything. Cloaking the blue sky that had been there before.

“James where are you going?” You chased after him, your throat choking up as you saw your boyfriend leaving, it was stupid, but this night was important to you. You wanted to share that with him. You thought you weresharing that with him.

He turned on his heels to face you, “I’m going home, y/n. You don’t need me here you’ve already got a boyfriend here.”

You were taken aback for a moment, “Excuse me?” You questioned, “What the fuck do you mean?”

“Tom.” He scoffed.

You rolled your eyes, “What about him?!”

“The two of you are so clearly into each other,” He deadpans, and you stay silent.

You didn’t know how you felt. Confused? Angry? Sad? Where was he getting this from? What was he saying to you? Why was he acting this way? There was so much to unpack, your heart hurt from the words James had said. You didn’t like Tom and Tom didn’t like you. You had always hated Tom… hadn’t you? Sure, you thought he was cute when you were a younger girl. But every girl in your grade thought Tom Holland was the cutest boy they had ever seen. He was charming, his curls were pretty, and his brown eyes were a chocolate brown – something you could look into forever. Was James, right? Did you still like Tom?

No. You loved James.

The two of you had thought about marriage and the thought of having kids. The two of you lived together and you wouldn’t trade your relationship for anything in the world. You wouldn’t trade his warmth, his strong arms wrapped around you in your sleep. But when you thought about it, for that moment, in that moment. He was more like Tom than you thought he was.

He had brown curly hair and paled skin; his eyes were smooth as chocolate. He wore glasses just for fashion and would get sloshed on beer every Saturday night. When you and Tom were somewhat civil, he would make jokes with you and make you laugh – harder than James had ever made you laugh but their jokes were of the same tone. You stood there for a moment just staring at James coming to the realisation. He had similar freckles to Tom. He was almost the same as Tom. Not a lot separated them apart.

Did you like Tom? No. No. No. You didn’t. You couldn’t.

You gulped, “James I don’t like Tom,” Although the words that came out of your mouth were true, “I love you.” They didn’t sound convincing enough, not even to you. Not even to yourself.

“Bullshit,” He groaned rolling his eyes, arms crossed over his chest, “You like him. You haven’t ever looked at me the way you look at Tom.”

“Why are you acting like this? Like you’re jealous? I’m with you. Not with Tom.” Your eyes threatened to spill tears.

“I ACT LIKE I’M JEALOUS BECAUSE I AM!... and I shouldn’t have to be.” His voice raises, taking you aback, sighing, “I thought I could deal with it. You constantly talk about him and how much you hate him. You constantly argue with him when we go to your family’s place on Saturdays and tonight, what the fuck was that? His arm around you all night, kissing you on the forehead,” He chuckles, tears streaming down his face, “For god’s sake you’ve got a handshake! The way you looked at him and the way he looked at you is not how two people who hate each other look at each other.”

You stand there, your jaw to the ground at his words, “James,” You sigh, running a hand down your face, “I love you, I’m with you.”

“But you’re not with me! Tonight, all you’ve done is ice me out! I’ve tried to help and the two of you just didn’t hear me – both of you too focused on each other to care about anyone else. Even your own brother said the two of you act like you’re in love.” James wipes a few tears, “I don’t want you to feel like you’re stuck with me.”

“I don’t feel like I’m stuck with you, James.” He wasn’t wrong, but he wasn’t right either. You didn’t know how you felt with James, and you loved him, you did. But tonight, you came to the realisation that you weren’t in love with him. You were in love with someone else.

“We’re done.” James finishes his monologue as he looks into your eyes, brimming with tears, “I love you, y/n, you are the love of my life. But upon seeing everything tonight, it’s clear that I’m not yours. I really hope you can tell Tom how you truly feel, and I hope he can tell you the same. Because he loves you, y/n.”

You and James stand there for a moment. The two of you almost a metre apart but it feels like ten. The world around you stop short, and it feels like everything’s frozen. Time started to slow around you as you watched James get back into his car. Your sobs were the only thing that filled the air of the London streets. But if you were so sad why was part of you relieved? Why did part of you feel like there was a weight lifted off your shoulders. Something you hadn’t known was on you. Something you hadn’t felt. You watched James pull out of his parking spot, his car driving away. Time sped back up for you, even if it had only been two minutes.

You made your way back into the Pub, quickly brushing the tears from your eyes. You opened the door and all you could see was Tom – you saw him in a different light now. As he sipped on his beer, his beanie covering his hair, but his curls hung out of it, regardless. How his cute little flannel fit him perfectly, and his smile when he saw you come into the pub and how his face fell when he had noticed you upset. How his eyebrows furrowed as he watched you watch him, face and eyes filled with concern for you, and he was feeling all of it. He could see your eyes were red and the way you sniffled brushing your nose. Your eyes threatening to spill once more, but that was quickly replaced by a smooth smile that had taken over your face – to the natural eye, someone might assume that you were fine and happy. But Tom knew you better than that. He knew you so well, he knew not to question you.

“Where’d James run off to?” your mother asked as you approached the table, your smile faltering, but replaced so quick that nobody but Tom had noticed.

Your smile felt forced by you, but seemed perfectly normal to everyone else, “Had to go home, he was–” You struggled to find an excuse, but recovered quickly once more, “–He felt sick, yeah.” You sounded like you were assuring yourself.

You took your seat back down next to Tom, sinking into him as his arm wrapped around you once more. For a moment you had forgotten what happened with James for the rest of the night, bouncing off Tom’s answers, your smile becoming more genuine as Tom made you laugh – as he warmed your belly and filled it with butterflies.

But that all came to an end when the quiz ended, and you said goodbye to everyone. Standing outside the pub, opening UBER on your phone – everyone was a good car ride away, take them half an hour to drive you home and half an hour to drive back to theirs. Especially at ten thirty at night. But Tom looked at you, feeling his own stomach flutter and as you opened the app, he jumped at the chance.

“Hey, I can drive you home,” Tom offered as you looked at him – he was supposed to hate you, why was the euphoria of the pub quiz lasting longer than intended?

You smiled softly, “Are you sure? I don’t wanna be a burden.”

He nods, assuredly, “Yeah, I-I’m sure,” He trips over his words, quickly picking himself back up.

“Okay.” You feel like you could cry, a small gesture, but appreciated on Tom’s part. He was being nice to you, and you didn’t want to question your luck anymore.

He leads you to his car, nothing flash, a black Toyota Corolla. You got into his car, and he started the ignition. You looked at the surroundings. You’d been in Tom’s car once before, but it was a twenty-minute drive and the two of you had argued the whole time. This time, whilst the two of you weren’t, your eyes flickered around the car.

He had his teacher’s badge hung around the mirror, something he’d use on the weekdays at his job as a Drama teacher. You’d only heard little about that – but you promised yourself as you got to know Tom better and tried to get to know him better, you’d ask about his students. About him. A couple empty coffee cups in the passenger’s side, and a mug in the cupholders. Typical for Tom. When he hadn’t a beer in his hand, he had a mug full of Camomile tea, honey, and milk.

He pulled out of his parking spot as he turned on the aux, music playing from his phone through to his car, a soft tune. He hummed the words to the song, his hand gripping the wheel, your eyes looking over at him, gracing his figure as you ogled over his muscles. You let out a small breath, running your hands down your legs.

“So,” You started, “How’s the teaching stuff going?”

He hummed softly, “It’s pretty alright – the students I teach pick the subject, so they all want to be there,” He turns to you and smiles, “Makes my life pretty easy,”

You chuckled, “I can imagine, they’re all doing something they’re so passionate about!”

He matches your smile, “Yeah, it’s truly a beautiful thing,”

The two of you go silent, a comfortable silence, a sweet silence, watching the road in front of you. The headlights on the side of the street lighting up the car, making Tom’s figure shine and accentuating his jawline. But this time you weren’t looking at him, Tom was looking at you. How you shone, how you shined under the light of the street. His eyes flickering between you and the road. Trying to keep his eyes on the road, but it was hard to keep his focus with you sitting right next to him.

You finally got to your apartment, the apartment you shared with James. You froze, staring at James’ car on the side of the road, tears threatening to spill once more – and they did. You started crying and Tom had no clue what to do, but freak out quietly and pull over, he did so carefully. He turned off the ignition, sitting in silence, letting you cry.

He turns to you, his expression soft, “Are you… okay?” He questions cautiously.

You shake your head, gulping, “I- James broke up with me tonight,” You sobbed, Tom’s hand resting over yours, rubbing it softly with his thumb – his touch electric to your skin, making you feel more loved than James had ever, only ever grazing his finger over your hand.

Tom’s expression broke – he was happy. But he felt guilty for feeling so. He felt so relieved. He was going to do it slowly (and you had planned to as well), but he wanted to get closer to you, he wanted to ask you out. He wanted to love you like James never could. But right now, he had no time to worry about that. He didn’t want to see you cry. He had never wanted to see you cry, he just wanted to make you smile.

Tom dared to ask, “What happened?”

Your eyes softened at the boy, you couldn’t tell him the truth – that would mean Tom finding out that you liked him, and you couldn’t do that, so you shook your head, “I- It’s- It’s not important,”

He understood that you hadn’t want to talk about this. He only nodded, “Well, you can stay at my place tonight if you don’t wanna go in there.” He offered – he didn’t know what came over him. This wasn’t normal, he should act like he hates you. But he can’t. He can’t look at you like this and pretend to hate you. Not like he always had. Even when he convinced himself that he hated you, he never really had. Not truly.

You looked up at him, hopeful, grateful, “Really?” your eyes welled.

He nods, “Yeah of course, you’re a friend.” He dared to say, but you just smiled.

You liked the sound of that friend. He was your friend, and he was here for you when nobody else was. You smiled, only nodding, crying again. Still full of sadness, but it had a pinch of happiness. Tom pulled out of the spot he had put himself in and drove a few blocks and over to his house. It was a small place, he shared it with his best friend Harrison – who was a sweet person, amazing, if you will. Kind and compassionate. You had met him on a ton of occasions. As Tom had pulled into his driveway, he informed you that Harrison wasn’t home and that he was away with his girlfriend for the weekend.

As the two of you walked into the house, Tom threw his keys into a bowl on the mantel.

You admired the place; it was quite nice. They had a cute little white couch, that went into the shape of an L and a nice TV. Your eyes connected to the kitchen that intersected with the lounge room, it was a nice white kitchen. The house was cleaner than expected for two Twenty-Six-year-old men. Both teachers, one P.E. and one Drama.

“Make yourself at home,” Tom gives a tight-lipped smile as you sit on the couch, taking off your shoes and setting them to the side.

He sits beside you, “You can take my room, and I’ll get you a change of clothes if you’re fine with wearing mine?” He questions, it’s a risky question but he asks it anyway, “You can take a shower too if you need to.”

You’d never seen this side of Tom before and it was making you melt, “Uh, yeah, that would be nice,”

“Right, I’ll grab you a towel and some clothes,” He makes his way into his bedroom, and comes back out wielding a white t-shirt, some checkered boxers, and sweatpants.

You took them graciously and made your way to the bathroom.

You came out of the bathroom, your hair wet and your eyes red, probably from crying Tom had guessed – but that hadn’t stopped you from being the most beautiful girl Tom had ever seen in his whole entire life.

Tom led you to his bedroom where you tucked yourself into his Queen-sized bed, Tom left the room with one last glanced as he looked over you, before closing the door behind him.

That was two years ago, now you were sitting in Tom’s room but for totally different reason.

“Okay, what movie do you wanna watch?” You smiled softly at your best friend, taking a seat.

James was officially a lost memory. You thought about him sometimes. How your life could’ve been if you didn’t love Tom the way you did. As much as you did. But the more you thought about it the more the two of you were a lost cause. Gone. Nothing could change that. It hurt sometimes, not having someone to love you like he did. But getting closer to Tom and becoming what was your closest friend, was good enough for you.

Tom sighed, “I was thinking Iron Man?”

You smiled, a hum escaping your lips, “But which one?”

“Iron Man Three.”

You cheered, moving closer into Tom, the two of you now cuddling, “Obviously the best one.”

His scent was intoxicating, it was like a breath of fresh air. You could only smile against his chest as it rises and falls with every breath. You were both lying down on his mattress, one that you had shared one too many times after drunken pub quizzes and oh, so many victories. Your arm wrapped around him as he held the bowl of popcorn beside him, the MARVEL logo flashing on the screen.

Tom looked down at you, the red light flashing across your face, afraid of what he felt for you. Love and nothing but. You’d never told him why you and James broke up and though it was too long ago, he still questioned it. You hadn’t told anyone – and he only knew that because he’d asked around. Sure, it was a little bit of an invasion – but in his defence he was still supposed to hate you back then. Not that it would make it any better. But then, he didn’t have to ask you. Because he already knew. Too afraid to ruin the friendship if something didn’t work out between the two of you.

Tom leans against your old island, as you shove some of your old things into cardboard boxes. You’d told Tom not to worry and not to help since you’d only be a few minutes and a few minutes turned to hours. Tom constantly offering to help you pack your things but refusing because it was nothing you couldn’t handle. You told him you’d ask for help If you needed it and the look on your face was telling him to back off – and you meant it.

You’d left to go grab a couple snacks as Tom stayed behind, packing up the rest of the things you had asked him too. He obliged and started doing so. He didn’t get a lot done before James walked through the door, seeing Tom packing up his ex-girlfriends’ things.

It had been a week since the breakup and seeing Tom there wasn’t helping anything especially, he was the whole reason for everything.

“Fuck are you doing here?” James questioned Tom as he stood in the doorway.

Tom sighed, placing some duct tape over the top of the cardboard box he had just packed, before looking up at James, “Look, mate, I’m just trying to help Y/n. She’s hurt and I’m her friend.”

“Your friend? You guys hate each other.” James slams the door behind him with a huff, walking into his kitchen.

“Yeah, well after her boyfriend abandoned her at the pub quiz someone had to drive her home and give her a place to stay and that someone was me.”

James threw his keys down onto the counter, “So as soon as I leave the two of you magically get along? That’s a lot from you, Holland. You’ve got something else going on, you’ve got some sort of ulterior motive with my girlfriend–

“Ex-girlfriend,” Tom interjected, “I don’t have any ulterior motives with Y/n! We just became friends.” He lied, he wanted to be your friend. But also, your boyfriend. He just wasn’t sure you felt the same.

“Bull-fucking-shit.” James curses, “Look, Thomas,” The name sounds like a poison to James. It is a poison to James, “Stay the fuck away from her.”

“Mate, you don’t own her!” Tom defends you, “She’s not your property and you can’t tell her what to do and what to do and even if you could, at most, influence her choices, you lost that privilege when you dumped her in the middle of quiz night.”

James’ jaw clenched, “Well we broke up because of you, Thomas.” He spat.

Tom’s face was a written exam of confusion, “What do you mean, ‘because of me’?”

James huffed, “My god you’re as fucking blind as she is! She’s in love with you and you’re in love with her. It doesn’t take someone with eyes to see that. Even her brother said the two of you act like you’re in love. On quiz night you had your arm around her the whole time, kissing her forehead and whatever the fuck else.” James was angry.

… and Tom could only provoke that, “Yeah. I am. Good to know you can see it.”

His hand tensed around you as he thought of the memory, pulling you closer, breathing in your strawberry and mint shampoo and listened to you mutter some of the lines from the movie that you had memorised. Something he thought was way too cute and just all in all adorable.

Tom didn’t want to ruin the mood – he didn’t know what came over him. Maybe the memory triggered something in his mind that enabled him to want to do this, “I know why you broke up with James.” He muttered softly as you tensed up, still cuddled against him.

“How do you know?” You tried to stay calm, “Who told you?”

“He did.” Tom spoke.

You sat up pulling yourself away from Tom and began pacing around the room, “When did he tell you Tom?”

“Two years ago.”

“Ohmygod,” You buried your head in your hands, “And you just sat around here knowing I was in love with you and still being my friend – sharing a bed with me? Leading me on?!”

He stood to meet your eyes, “Y/n, I just wanted to see if we could be friends first, I wasn’t leading you on.”

“Yes, you are, Tom!” But you registered what he had said shortly after, “Wait, what do you mean first?”

“The reason I acted like I hated you was because of him. Was because I was jealous of him. So, if I couldn’t be your boyfriend, and being your friend would put me in pain, I decided to try and hate you – keyword is tried.” He blushed, looking down at his feet, “It was an asshole move, I’ll admit that, but I feel the same way about you.”

You smiled softly, all embarrassment fading away, “Y-You do…?”

He nods softly, “Yeah, I do.” His eyes flickered down to your soft-looking lips, his finger then running over them, feeling their plush, “May I?”

“Yeah, you can.” You smiled softly once more, feeling his lips pressed against yours, both of you smiling against it, feeling needy.

Both of you so engulfed in the passion of each other, his tongue slipping into your mouth. Both of you stumble back, tripping over each other’s feet, stumbling onto, and falling on the bed, both of you laughing softly – your lips falling onto each other’s again.

His hands ride up his your shirt, and you shudder at his touch, feeling a sense of euphoria already, groaning against his touch. He’s only grazed his hands on you. Making you feel something already, making you want him more than you’ve ever wanted anyone before. Making you need him.

You pull your lips away for a moment, as he kisses your neck, your words tickle the side of his face, whispering against his ear, “Tom, I need you.”

The way his lips fall back onto yours is just a conformation of what he wants, he wants you.

The desire starting to make you both feel things as Tom’s jeans start to get a little tight and you feel yourself start to get wet and you had barely done anything to each other. God, you wanted him so bad. Your hands run under his shirt, your lips parting for one moment as it slides over his head. His do the same to yours as he notices you’re not even wearing a bra.

“Holy shit,” He mutters softly, pressing a kiss to your neck, a moan escaping your lips, “My t-shirt without a bra, that’s so fucking hot.” He peppers kisses down your chest before his mouth wraps around the nub of right tit. His tongue playing and sucking it. Your hand slithers into his hair as your head comes back, and you release a moan.

You can feel Tom shudder at the sound of you, his other hand fondles your left. He removes his mouth, placing one last kiss on your tit. His hands trailing down your sides, as he teases the waistband of your pants.

“This, okay?” He asks softly, playing with the waistband awaiting your answer.

“Uh-huh, yep.” You nodded, just wanting Tom to hurry up. You just wanted him to use you how ever he liked. You didn’t care what he did. He could make you feel good no matter what.

Tom pulled down your pants and panties with them, as he discarded them onto the floor, he left kisses all down your belly, before moving in between your thighs, “God, you are so beautiful,” he says looking up at you, and you can feel yourself starting to feel flushed.

He doesn’t let you respond, as he places kisses in your inner thigh, teasing you with his mouth, getting close to your pussy but not doing anything about it, leaving you on the edge. Wanting his touch more than ever. You just wanted him to feel you. To taste you.

He finally ran a soft finger against your pussy, feeling your wetness – he bites his lip, running his finger up and down, “So fucking wet – all this for me? You shouldn’t have, darling.”

You squirmed under his touch, just wanting him to touch you, to finger-fuck you. To stick his cock inside of you. You honestly didn’t care what he did. You just needed to feel him. Tom’s fingers ran against you, teasing you, as you moan, wanting more from him. Wanting everything. God, this was pissing you off – but also making you extremely turned on. You knew that this would make you feel better than you’d ever felt before – because it already had felt better than you’d ever felt before and he hadn’t even really started to touch you.

He started to place kisses on the lips of your pussy, before finally letting his tongue enter your slit, his tongue teasing your g-spot as you moaned again. He toyed with it, making it his. Letting his tongue flick, it and circle it, rubbing you before inserting one of his fingers into you. God, it felt so good, as he touched your g-spot making you moan again, a small ‘fuck’ escaping your lips as your hand made its way into Tom’s hair once more, taking a ball of it in your fist as he ate your pussy, pumping his fingers in and out of you.

He pulled you away, leaving you starving as he sat up and started to unbuckle his pants, you knew he was going to fuck the living daylights out of you, and you were ready for whatever had in store. His cock falls out of his boxers, and you’d never seen anything like it. It was large and thick, making your mouth drool. It was all you’d think about.

“Holy shit,” You muttered under your breath, but Tom had heard your words, smirking to himself knowing you were impressed. That gave him some vote of confidence.

Your eyes trailed Tom’s body, from his sweaty, curled, and messed hair. Down to his plumped lips, that had been red from kissing you, tasting you. All the way to his chiselled body, lines that indicated that he had been working out. A sight he showed off quiet often, but it was a beautiful one always – especially like this. Landing on what would soon be inside you. You couldn’t take it anymore, and it only took six words.

“I need you.” You gulped, swallowing all the pent-up drool and spit, “All of you.”

Tom could only smile, pressing his lips to yours, before inserting his cock inside you, slowly moving in and out of you to build up the want. The need– and it was working. He moved in and out of you, pressing your g-spot slowly, before pulling back out. Making you moan. Making you wetter – you didn’t think you could get wetter.

His kisses moved from your mouth to next to your ear as he whispered into your ear, tickling your sense as he spoke, “How do you want me?” Tom questioned you, as he felt you shiver against him as he continued to move in and out of you, awaiting your answer, he kisses your cheek softly.

“Fast and rough, Tommy, please, I need it.” You whined, turning him on more.

He held himself up before moving faster against you, moving from a slow pace to something fast in a short second, moving his body as hard as he could against you, surprising you but making you moan nonetheless, and it was loud. You had never felt this way before. So hot, so wet, so turned on and it was all Tom.

Your bodies flowed like one, moving in sync, as you felt each other. Your mouth never leaving the others, both sweating, panting, as you pulled away for a breath before placing your mouth back on his. Your tongues in a constant, sloppy, meet.

It your arms were wrapped around his back, holding him as his movements pressed against your g-spot harder than ever, slowly moving one of your hands to stimulate your own clit. Rubbing it in circles, playing it in your fingers. Your sensitive throbbing. You could feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm and Tom could feel it took as your pussy clenched around his cock.

“Fuck,” Tom’s lips fall off yours for a moment as he kisses your neck, moving faster in you, as you move your own fingers faster, letting yourself feel everything.

“Tommy I’m gonna–” You moan as Tom groans.

“That’s right, cum for me, darling, let it all out.” He speaks into your ear.

You can feel that familiar knot in your stomach, as you let yourself release. Tom feels you twitch against him as you do so, holding him close. A moan of several octaves escaping your mouth. Tom starts to slow his movements down and kisses you, “That was the prettiest sound I’ve ever heard,” he speaks as you kiss him once more.

You run your hand down Tom’s chest, your hand moving around his cock. He falls back onto the bed as you sit up, admiring the sight of his shaft. Your finger running along the slit of his cock as precum falls. You run your hands down your thighs, using your own wetness as a lubricant – which only makes Tom lick his lips and want you more. You tease his cock by running a finger over the tip of his cock, making him moan. You placed a kiss on the tip, tasting his precum before running your hand up and down his cock.

You pump your hand up and down his cock, as he moans and groans, “Fuck, you’re so hot.” You speak and Tom groans softly, his back arching and his head falls back – just like yours had earlier.

You slowly wrap your mouth around his tip before taking his cock into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down softly, before moving it faster, slightly gagging, but letting the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat a few times before coming up for air. You gasped softly, letting yourself catch your breath, before letting your mouth play with his tip and you moved your hand from the base of his cock up and down and continued to do so.

You placed your mouth around his cock taking in his whole shaft once more, his moans being the only thing you can hear as you could feel him start to twitch.

“Fuck, y/n, I’m gonna cum.” He speaks softly before he starts to twitch a bit more.

You keep your mouth over his cock, taking it all in as he groans loudly, grabbing the sheets beside him as you continue your movement, your mouth filling with his sticky, hot and white load. You pull your mouth from his cock, now covered in cum, but also let some fall from your mouth.

Tom swears he had never seen a girl so perfect.

You swallowed his cum, letting the salty taste coat your throat.

You fell beside Tom, after taking a sip of water from his water bottle. Both of you sweaty and wrapped up in the sheets that were once made, you snuggled up close to him, his arms wrapped around you. Leaving you somewhat protected. Safe.

A few months later, you and Tom were in a committed relationship to each other, you now lived with him (and Haz moved into his girlfriend’s place) rather than your shitty complex that was almost too far away from Tom and your family on Saturdays, which the two of you now came to in the same car.

Your families were happy for the development of the two of you and your relationship – moving from people who used to hate each other to people who can’t stop thinking about each other almost never. Saturdays were now enjoyable. You didn’t dread Saturdays anymore.

You had eventually met Tom’s students at a school dance which Tom insisted he take you too. Most of them had told you they liked you more than him, which you were happy to boast about as he smiled at you being so good with the kids at the school.

Everything was going so well; it was going great.

You were in the isle of your TESCO as you were walking in the freezer isle, looking for some ice-cream to buy for movie night that night, as a familiar face walked into the isle. One you hadn’t seen in years.

James looked tired, the bags under his eyes were heavy and his shoulders were slumped, in comparison to you, who had started to get a good night’s sleep and had developed fantastic posture. James’ face lit up as he saw you.

“Hey, y/n.” He speaks, a soft smile upon his lips.

“Hi, James.” You gave him a tight-lipped smile, not really wanting to speak to him. Yes, you still held a grudge against him. But he wasn’t wrong – you were with Tom now; Had been for a while.

“Look, y/n, I just wanted to say I’m sorry and that I shouldn’t have ended things. I really do regret leaving things the way we did. I neverintended to hurt you. I still love you. Come back to me, y/n. Be with me… please.” James speaks.

But just like a cliché, Tom walks down the aisle, wearing his shit happens hoodie and sweats. Looking as cute as ever as he inspects a box of Coco Pops, “Hey, babe, I know we don’t usually but should we–?” His eyes fall upon James as he looks up at you and him talking.

James furrows his eyebrows, “Babe?”

“Yeah, uh, we’re together mate. Looks like you were right.” Tom shrugs, rolling his eyes at the boy – he wasn’t afraid to show his emotions like you were. He had the upper hand. He was now with you; he had done something James had sworn he would never let happen. He lost the fight and you and Tom both knew that you’d won each other.

You sigh, “James was just telling me that he still loves me, wants me to get back with him. Isn’t that, right?” You questioned.

James scoffs, “Yeah. I had. I’m way better for you than–”

“No.” You cut him off, “You’re not. You dumped me because you were jealous of a friendship and okay, sure, we acted like we loved each other but that’s because we did! I tried to stay with you that night and you ended things and walked away. You left me there. So shut the fuckup.” You huff as James looks at you perplexed.

Both you and Tom walk back down the aisle as you start to chuckle, “Tom I didn’t get any ice-cream!” You laugh into his shoulder. The both of you in the cereal aisle.

“‘S Fine, we’ll get some at a petrol station or something,” He starts to join in your laughing as you wrap your arms around him placing a kiss to his warm lips.

“I love you, Tommy.”

“I love you more.”

a/n: endings a bit cheesy but i'm not appalled by it LMAO

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tags: @enilemes @hollandfanficlove @wanniiieeee @youlikethatdontyoucupcake @itszulli @raajali3to

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officialscaramouche · 3 years ago

Note

ayo feel like doing a gorou confession fic for me? pretty please with sprinkles on top (you know that fucking tiktok)

Ofc Pizzato anything for u my dear 🥰

Pairing: Gorou x gn!reader

Warnings: slight angst

Word count: 1,969

You heard a couple friendly knocks on your office door, eyes glancing to the clock to see it was a little past noon and you knew exactly who it was. “Come in,” you chime, putting down your pen and stretching upwards with a smile.

“Helloooooo!” You hear as the door swung open, Kazuha flaunting an envelope between his fingers. “Letter time!”

You sweep to your feet and give him grabby hands. “Give it to me!” He chuckles and places the thin paper into your hands. “Tell me who it is already,” you giggle as you rip it open and slide the letter out.

“No,” he sighs, rolling his eyes. “I keep my promises.”

You quirk and eyebrow before you fold open the letter. “Even if I bribe you with dango?”

Kazuha smiles. “Even if you bribe me with dango.”

You grunt and groan but it quickly stops when you unfold the letter, reading the contents.

Good afternoon, cupcake, it starts. You blush at the pet name. I hope your day is going as well as mine. I’ve just won the office lottery! I’m going to ask for more snacks in the break room. That way, everyone benefits too! Specifically though, I want more sakura mochi! The ones you made for us were delicious. Share your recipe? :3

I adore you, your secret admirer.

You squeeze the letter to your chest and squeal, your face warm from blushing and your heart pounding against your chest. “Oh, Kazuha, whoever this person is, I really wish they’d come up and confess!”

Kazuha tuts and wiggles his finger. “But then the mystery wouldn’t be there anymore.”

“Screw mystery!” You squealed, gazing down at the illegible and scratchy handwriting, the mysterious stains and fur all over the page. “I’m ready to hear these words in person.”

Just then there was a knock on your door and a quick turn of the knob, one of the top brass leaning against your door frame. “Good morning, Chatty Cathy’s,” sang a familiar voice and ear twitches.

You wave while Kazuha bows, hiding the letter behind your back. “Good morning, General Gorou.”

The tail behind his back wagged discreetly as the two men share a knowing glance. “Kazuha,” the general clears his throat. “May I speak with you?”

The samurai nods his head and gives you a little wave as he walks out the door. “Bye boys!” You sing, tucking the letter back into the envelope and putting it away.

The next day, as routine, a little past noon you heard three friendly knocks on your door. You excitedly put your pen down, closing your ledger and standing out of your chair and onto your feet. “Kazuha,” you grinned. “Come in!”

He pushed the door open with his back, lugging a big box with some plastic sticking out from the top. “I’m just a mule to you guys aren’t I?” He groaned, lifting the box up and onto your desk. “This is ridiculous.”

You stood on your tippy toes to try and peek inside the box without being obnoxious. “What is it?” You hum, getting more and more restless.

“Your letter, what else?” He kind of snapped, letting out a deep sigh and rolling his eyes. “I wish he’d confess too. That way I don’t have to carry these things.”

You pulled back the top of the box that was just out of your reach. “Here,” pushing your hands away, Kazuha tore the box apart to expose a giant basket full of goodies and flowers. “The letter.”

Kazuha snapped the taped-on letter from the plastic and handed it to you. Wasting no time at all, you rip the envelope open and unfold the letter.

Dearest [Y/N], you’ve pierced my heart like an arrow through a target and I simply cannot get you off my mind. I heard from the grapevine that you wish for my confession. …Maybe I shall do so in the near future? It’s not that I do not want to be yours, but rather that you make me quite nervous. Still, we see each other for terribly brief moments but these moments are the most precious to me. Hopefully I can muster up the courage to finally tell you how I feel. In the meantime, please accept these treats and toys imported from across the globe. My favorite are the dog-shaped biscuits.

Your shy admirer.

Looking up from the letter you find Kazuha stuffing his face with some chocolatey cookies from within a tin box labeled ‘Fontaine.’ “Are those good?” You ask, reaching in and stealing one.

“Mhm,” Kazuha hums, taking a bite out of the one in his hand. “I’ve never had Fontaine chocolate. I guess the rumors about being the best were true.”

You melt under the sweet taste and crunchy texture, thinking that if your crush’s letters had a taste, it would be like this. “This is so nice,” you sigh, eyes sparkling as they gaze upon the basket. “Do you think he’s going to confess to me?”

Kazuha stares out the windows of your office that peer into the rest of the building, watching a certain general spill water on himself and the resistance leader. He takes another bite of a cookie. “Maybe.”

You squeal in delight and spin around in joy. “My heart’s beating so fast! I hope he does it soon or I’ll explode!”

Kazuha chuckles and playfully shoves you aside. “If you explode, I’m eating all of your snacks.”

“No! They’re mine!”

Weeks— almost a month— go by with no further letters. Kazuha stopped coming by, whether at noon or otherwise. The only knocks you got were visits from Kokomi about the budget or from other soldiers carrying reports and receipts from spending. Your heart ached at the sudden lack of contact, wondering if you had done or said something wrong.

Maybe your eagerness was intimidating and this mystery man just wanted someone to flirt with without commitment. Maybe he got bored of you. Maybe he didn’t want to talk to you anymore.

Regardless, you wanted to try and spark it back up in case you’ve stepped on some toes without realizing. That night when you got home, you tossed the ingredients for sakura mochi into a bowl and got to mixing.

The office ate everything you brought before lunchtime rolled around. With such great success, you had confidence that he’d reach out to you tomorrow, if not today.

But alas you were left in silence once more, leaving your heart to crumble and ache. You were quick to recover, considering you never met the guy— let alone knew his name. But you had no time to be worrying anyway, because in a couple of days one of the squads were returning from the front lines and you needed to factor in medical costs. Apparently they took a hard hit when Sara Kujou showed up with her samurai. Kokomi was depending on you, and you didn’t want to let her down.

You spend these few days really crunching the numbers, making sure that every wounded soldier would get the basic medical necessities with some left over for any miscalculations. With every i dotted and every t crossed, you stuffed your report into a fancy envelope and handed it to Kokomi. “Thank you [Y/N] for your hard work under such a sudden timetable.” She thanked, tucking the envelope under her arm. “The team should be arriving tomorrow, so I will be submitting this for review immediately.”

You bow respectfully and offer your thanks for praise. “It’s no problem at all, Her Excellency. I was given ample time to prepare the balance sheet.” You begin to turn when you’re stopped once again by her.

“Before you go,” she smiles softly. “Would you mind helping out at the infirmary? We’re short handed right now with the sudden intake of Delusions.”

“Of course, Her Excellency. I will be there whenever you need me.”

You weren’t specialized in medics but you had helped around often enough to know the basics. And anyone could become a master at immediate medical attention after doing it so many times.

The flood of gurneys was a little disheartening to see, but you were still thankful for all that they do for the greater of the country. It must be scary being at the front lines, but everyone knew what they were signing up for.

You catch sight of Genera Gorou and Lord Kazuha chatting with Lady Kokomi before you were assigned to a batch of wounded soldiers, feeling a little bad for harboring ill feelings toward the young lord for disappearing. ‘You could’ve at least told me that you were leaving,’ you thought as you rinsed the injured area.

“I can take over from here,” the head medic stepped in, slipping on a new pair of gloves before getting a closer look at the soldier before you. With most of everyone patched up and recovering, the medic team was able to take control of the infirmary once again.

You wash your hands and check the clock. A little past noon. It’s funny how at this time you would’ve waited with bated breath for a couple of knocks. But not anymore.

You step out of the infirmary and find Kazuha and General Gorou sitting outside on the benches there. “Oh, hi boys,” you say surprised.

Kazuha grabs and shakes your hand. “Thank you for helping out our soldiers,” he says seriously.

“Oh, it’s not that big of a deal,” you mutter. “I do this all the time.”

A calloused hand pushes Kazuha’s away and shakes your hand firmer, harder. “No, [Y/N],” Gorou says with a sort of oomph behind his words. “These are my men…my family. They would be suffering if not for your help.”

You look to the side uncomfortably, a little put-off by the tension in the air. “And that’s why—!” Gorou continues, suddenly eight decibels louder. You hold eye contact with the general, his face darkening into a deep red flush, his eyes glassy and ears twitching. He squeezed your hand harder and shut his eyes. “M-My C-C-Cupcake!!! P-Please let m-me take you on a date!!!!”

Kazuha winced at the loudness of his friend, covering one of his ears but still smiling nonetheless. The people walking by stared and mumbled, but it didn’t matter as you felt your heart pound against your chest. You felt your eyes well with tears as now your face flushed red, the general cautiously opening his eyes to see your trembling lips and pathetic pout. “A-Ah! [Y/N], don’t cry!!”

You tug on his hand hard, pulling the man into your arms and squeezing him tight. You sobbed into his chest, hearing and feeling how frantic his heart was beating as well. “You idiot!” You shout into his battle-worn chest. “Don’t disappear without telling me…”

Gorou caressed the back of your head and chewed on his lip, his tail drooping with guilt but twitching with excitement for being in your arms. “Did I…scare you?” He whispered tentatively, choosing his words carefully.

You pull away and wipe your eyes, Gorou watching you closely and holding tightly onto your waist. “I thought you got tired of me…because I stopped hearing from you.” Gorou frowned and cupped your face, thumbing your cheeks gently. “I even made sakura mochi and I didn’t—”

“You made sakura mochi??!??!!! Is there any left?!?” Gorou’s jaw dropped. He let you go to turn and run to the break room, halting before running back to embrace you once more. “Heh, uh…” he chuckled nervously. “I’d actually…rather hold you like this…”

You couldn’t fight the smile that spread across your cheeks, flushing your body against his chest. “That’s okay,” you giggle. “There aren’t any left.”

You had no idea that his ears could flatten sadly like that.

#writing #Gorou #Gorou x reader #angst #fluff #oneshot #a stupid capricorn

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knchins · 4 years ago

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Not Your Friend - Tsukishima Kei

Summary: Tsukki invites you over for Thanksgiving dinner after a day at the Labor Thanksgiving festival. But things start to fall apart when he introduces you to his family as his friend instead of his girlfriend.

Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x Fem!Reader

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.6k (not 206 omfg ally get it TOGETHER)

Server Collab: @haikyuucreations - Home Sweet Home

Warnings: Angst (w/ a happy ending), Very brief mention of sex, stuffed animal abuse (jkjk)

Notes: Anon I hope you don’t mind a happy ending because I totally intended to leaving it open ended but then my heart hurt too much and I had to make them happy in the end. Anyway first collab piece for hqc! Please enjoy <3

Even though you had been dating Tsukishima Kei for a little over six months now, you were still surprised when he invited you to a Thanksgiving Day dinner celebration with his family and closest friend Yamaguchi Tadashi. He had mentioned the festival that would take place earlier in the day and that after the two of you explored a bit, you’d go back to his home and have dinner with his mother, older brother, and best friend.

It was a little odd because Tsukishima had disagreed on group dates or meeting your own family multiple times. He always found excuses to not do it. He would only say that he liked to keep his love life private, and asked that you would respect that. And so far you had. You didn’t talk about what went on between the two of you with anyone outside of your relationship, even your friends. You would be vague about your dates and if you had a fight then you’d pretend like nothing was going on. He wanted privacy and you wanted to give that to him.

Despite that, you were really excited to finally meet his family. He had told you a lot about them and you had always wanted to meet them. You didn’t think he would have agreed if you had simply asked, so you never voiced your wishes to him. Luckily it seemed that time made him comfortable enough in your relationship to want to introduce you to the other people in his life finally.

That morning you put on one of your best outfits, something that was cute but suitable for meeting your boyfriend’s family. Once you were finished getting ready, you went outside to meet Tsukki at his car. He would never go up to the door, no matter how many times you told him it was okay. He smiled softly at you, approving of your attire. “You look cute.” He said before driving you to the festival.

The day was spent playing games and enjoying each other’s company. A few people recognized him from seeing his games with the Sendai Frogs and told them how they were big fans of him and the team. You knew he didn’t really care for the attention, always making an excuse to pull him away from the intruding person so he could relax by your side again. Tsukishima was always appreciative of how well you seemed to be able to read him. Despite his usual cold demeanor, people just seemed so eager to aggravate him. It was incredibly annoying.

Luckily, the fans bold enough to interrupt your time together were few and far between today. Tsukki won you a stuffed brontosaurus, making sure you tell you how inaccurate the plush was as you hugged it close to snuggle with it happily, listening to him list why it was improbable for a dinosaur to be neon pink with orange spots. Of course he added how the head wasn’t shaped quite right and the proportions were a tad off. It was enough to make you giggle as he took you back to his car to take you to his family home.

Anxiety fluttered in your chest as you watched the scenery pass you by in the window. What if they didn’t like you? You wondered to yourself. What if they thought you weren't good enough for him? A million negative scenarios and interactions raced through your mind as you thought of every conceivable way that you could screw this up. If this didn’t go well, then he’d probably never let you see them again. The thought of that hurt more than anything.

After failed scenario number five hundred and thirty seven, Tsukki pulled up to his family home and parked out front. He opened the door for you and you stepped out, choosing to leave your new beloved (though inaccurate) dino behind. You didn’t want them to think you were childish because you loved stuffed animals.

As he shut the car door behind you, Yamaguchi arrived with a wide smile. He greeted you enthusiastically, hugging you before giving Tsukishima a look that you couldn’t quite decipher.The three of you headed inside and deposited your shoes at the door as Kei’s mother came to greet you.

“This is my friend,” Tsukki began before telling her your name. You couldn’t stop your eyes from widening in shock, looking at him with hurt as you tried to reel in the fresh set of tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. Friend? That’s all you were to him? Since when?

You managed to compose yourself enough to bow to her as she told you it was nice to finally meet you. She then told Yamaguchi that she missed seeing him every weekend like she did when they were in high school together. The two began a friendly conversation as they retreated into the next room.

Still frozen in place, you tried to grasp hold on your shattering heart. After everything, the ups and downs, the hiding you away, the confessions of love, the sex, he still somehow thinks of you as only…a friend? There was a lump in your throat, making it painful to swallow. Tsukishima didn’t seem to be pressed by the state you were in, he simply walked further into the house to catch up with his mother and friend.

You took a deep breath to try and regain control of yourself. You attempted to numb the pain in your heart, simply thinking that if he just wanted to be friends then you’d simply treat him as a friend and nothing more. Two could play this game, not matter how much it hurt.

Tsukki introduced you to his older brother and his significant other. You and Yamaguchi chatted with him while Tsukishima went to help his mother with something in the kitchen. You tried to keep yourself in the moment and to not think too much about the greeting. Though, he repeated himself again when introducing you to Akiteru. Being friendzoned on what you thought was a date was possibly one of the hardest things you’d ever had to do. You wish you could go back in time and decline his invitation to come over in the first place.

Yamaguchi could read you like an open book. Not that you were incredibly hard to read in the first place, but it was easy to see that something was bothering you. Of course he knew exactly what was on your mind. He took you to the side after you finished chatting with Akiteru. “I’m sorry, I probably should have warned you I had a feeling this would happen.” He said to you in a quiet voice so that no one else could hear him.

“I just want to go home.” You confessed. Despite how delicious the food smelled, you had no desire to even be near Tsukishima after what he had just done to you. The pain was simply too fresh, the wound too new. “I think I’m going to be sick…”

He rubbed your back in an attempt to comfort you. “I think this is just his way of testing you.” Yamaguchi said, hoping that it would make you feel better. Alas it only made you feel worse. Why the hell did you need to be tested? Had you not gone through enough together in the past six months? Anger was starting to overwhelm your hurt and Tadashi attempted to backpedal. “I could be wrong though. Sometimes I don’t know what goes on in his head.”

You dabbed at your eyes with the end of her shirt sleeve to try and keep the tears from falling. “Can you sit between us?” You asked, “I don’t want to be next to him right now.” He nodded, understanding how you were feeling. He wished he could pull Kei aside and ask him himself what was going through that head of his. Why was he doing this to the girl that he said he loved? Sometimes he could be such an enigma.

Akiteru informed them that dinner was ready and the table was set. Tsukishima as already seated, Yamaguchi stayed true to his word and sat down next to him while you sat next to Yamaguchi. You could feel Kei’s eyes on you, wondering just what you were doing, but you ignored him totally. You told his mother that everything looked and smelled wonderful and she thanked you happily.

The six of you began to eat, and everything tasted as good as it looked. It was almost worth the heartache that Tsukishima was putting you through, though you had already decided if he was so ashamed of you then you didn’t need to be in a relationship any more. You were hurt, angry, and at this point didn’t know what else to do. If he wanted to break up with you, then he could have found an easier way.

The dinner was tense to say the least. You did your best to ignore Tsukishima, even though his family kept asking you questions about one another. How you met, did you hang out often, and many other questions that made it obvious that they were trying to see if the two of you were just friends or not. You kept your answers polite, but made it clear that you weren’t in an intimate relationship with Kei, at least not anymore.

The slipup caused everyone to stare at you with wide eyes, even Kei himself. You not being together anymore was certainly news to him, though he played it off like it was no big deal. He wondered if this was because he didn’t claim you as his significant other right away or if maybe you’d been wanting to break up for some time now. His own mind was clouded with doubts and anxieties as he became even quieter at the table. It was obvious that there was something going on between you two, it was just unclear what exactly that was.

Once everyone had finished eating, you helped Tsukki’s mother clear up the dishes and put extra food away. “You know, my son has a very interesting way of handling information he doesn’t want his family to know.” She said as she passed you a dish to dry off. “He has always been a very private person, even as a small child. I never quite understood where he got it from.”

You weren’t sure what her point was, drying off another dish with the towel in your hand. “He never tells us when he has a girlfriend because he’s afraid we’ll bother them.” She said admittedly, “He thinks we’ll pry too much. I think he keeps it a secret more due to his own insecurities than anything else.”

“Sometimes being kept a secret doesn’t feel very good.” You replied, not knowing what else to say to her. “Being kept in the dark isn’t that great either.”

“Well, no.” She said back as she finished the last plate and handed it to you. “But he doesn’t have a whole lot of practice with that sort of thing either. I don’t think he reads women very well.”

You nodded, wanting to believe that his denial of their relationship was simply due to him being an insecure idiot, but it was a little hard to believe. It still felt more like he was ashamed of you. “He’s never actually brought anyone over besides Tadashi before.” His mother said, “I think this was a big step for him.” She left to go tackle another chore as you stayed in the kitchen, nibbling on your lower lip. Did you possibly jump the gun?

Tsukishima walked into the kitchen and you realized the two of you were alone. He had an apathetic look on his face. “So we’re not together anymore?” He asked, as if the conversation at dinner was unclear.

Your eyes narrowed and you threw the dishrag at him. “I don’t know, Kei, you tell me.” You hissed before crossing your arms over your chest. “Can you please just take me home?”

He was frowning, which although wasn’t totally unusual, it was more pronounced than normal. He nodded his head, letting out a soft disappointed sigh before letting everyone know he was going to take you back to your apartment.

You walked with him to his car, allowing him to open the door for you. You got in, putting the stuffed dinosaur in the backseat. Honestly you didn’t even want to look at it anymore, you had already decided that you’d pretend to forget it there.

Tsukki got into the driver’s side, buckling his seat belt and starting the car. Already he knew things were worse than he thought. For as long as he’d known you, he’d never seen you abandoned a stuffed toy. You’d always keep it in your lap or in your arms, somewhere close because you wanted it to feel loved (he really didn’t understand this but chose to let it go). He swallowed hard, trying to figure out a way to fix things before they were beyond repair.

The drive was extremely tense. He caught you sniffling back tears a few times, the need to console you growing more and more despite the fact that now his heart was breaking too. “Listen,” He said, addressing you by your name, “I was going to tell them, but I wanted them to get to know you first without any pressure.” He was inwardly hoping that the truth was enough to heal your hurt, though he wasn’t entirely sure if it was or not. “I knew they’d pry and I thought it would be easier on you if I just said you were a friend.”

“Kei we’ve been dating six months now and they didn’t even know you were seeing someone?” You asked, though his explanation did help somewhat, it was still unacceptable that you had been kept such a secret. “Why are you so ashamed of me?”

“I’m not ashamed of you.” He said back, his voice raising a hair at the accusation. “I never said that I was. I just don’t like them butting into my private life, that’s it. It had nothing to do with how I feel about you.”

You shied away at his loud volume, sinking into the seat like a child that had just been chastised. “That’s what it feels like…” You mumbled back meekly. “That you don’t care enough to tell them about me.”

He glanced at you before looking back at the road. “How many times have I told you that you mean more to me than anything in the entire world?” He asked, sounding tired. “I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you.” He always hated saying those words, but sometimes the moment did call for it. Moments such as this. “I just didn’t want my family to pester me about you nonstop. They get carried away and it's overwhelming.”

You were quiet, unsure what to say. “Why didn’t you just tell me that beforehand so I wouldn’t have gotten hurt?”

His cheeks turned a light shade of pink, “I was going to tell them right away but I panicked at the last moment. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, really.”

You blinked slowly, reaching into the backseat for the dino and hold. The action made Tsukishima let out a sigh of relief. It was at least a sign that he hadn’t ruined everything completely. “So are we still broken up?”

“No,” You muttered back to him awkwardly. “I’m sorry I made you leave early.”

He shrugged, “I’d rather just be with you anyway. Akiteru can be such a pain.”

A small smile broke on your face as you rode the rest of the way in a happy silence.

Mobile Masterlist || Request Rules || Collab Masterlist

Tag List: @dabi-hates-fish, @hawkward, @writeiolite (I think you wanted to be tagged Io, I don’t exactly remember ad;lfkja;dlfja;sdlfj)

#haikyuucreations #tsukishima kei #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyuu imagines #tsukishima imagine #tsukishima kei x you #tsukki x reader #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima akiteru #tsukishima angst #yamaguchi tadashi #hq requests

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chocolateslatte · 5 years ago

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🚨The Rise of Skywalker Detailed Review and Spoilers Ahead🚨

George Lucas: “If the boy and girl walk off into the sunset hand-in-hand in the last scene, it adds 10 million to the box office”

The “fairytale” we got: A long long time ago in a galaxy far far away, there was a curse of pain and death in a family that just went on and on. They were never able to break it and they all die, the end.

Well, you did it JJ, you little punk...you ruined 40 years of cinema. Kids are coming out of theatres crying, they can’t understand. I guess this was the “fun and hopeful ending” you were speaking of during the press tours. Are you on crack or something, or just sadistic....why would you promote it like that!? Did you forget Star Wars at its core is a story of hope, light, a fairytale in space for children? They did it...they united Reylo’s and Fanboys through hate.

JJ you do realize tragical romances are only tragically romantic if there was romantic buildup? Romeo and Juliet married in secret, Anidala did as well and flirted in the fields. How was this supposed to be satisfying? A five-second beginning, middle, and end. How this went through multiple execs is beyond me.... I would have understood if Reylo was Rian’s creation. BUT JJ LITERALLY was the one who told Rian to go forth with it...he created Reylo so you can’t say the last Jedi derailed things on that front. JJ wasn’t brave enough for his own vision. This movie was like “the crimes of Grindlewald”, a lot of stuff happening that made me feel nothing.

Okay, first things first. The OG trilogy was necessary, the prequels were necessary to set up that Vader did not start off bad. What was necessary about the sequels? They just dismantled everything the Skywalker family worked for. Why did we have to see ALL of our favorite characters die? Was the aim that a villain can only be redeemed through death? How original. I’m convinced what they were planning for since force awakens was a journey from villain to hero...but instead we got this a 10min redemption resulting in death a la Vader. Why call Adam Driver’s character a “Disney Prince”?When did Happy endings become so controversial? We go to the movies to feel hope, to escape reality...George Lucas understood that. JJ’s trilogy is uninspired, bland and contributes nothing to the saga. JJ went as far as to recon his own “The Force Awakens”.It had the chance to define generations but no. Literal and utter garbage. Rian made some odd choices but he was bold, unafraid and had the vision. HE knew emotion was at the heart of Star Wars.

WHERE DID THE SKYWALKERS RISE? MORE LIKE RISE OF PALPATINE, HE BLOODY WON

BUT my problem is not with the ending, it’s the bloody entire movie. This movie made me realize that it's not Reylo that I am a fan of, it was Ben, Leia, Han, Ani, Padme, and all those other characters. I’m upset because this movie is not my Star Wars: of family, love and above all else hope. This is just a 2.5-hour video game with no emotions. This trilogy was all angst with NO payoff.

Okay, you will never ever convince me Palpatine was planned the whole time. This whole movie was retcon for the Last Jedi that pissed off the fanboys. Lucas films did not have an outline for the three films and Rian derailed whatever they wanted to do....except they didn’t even tell him what they wanted! This should be a cautionary tale of why you need to plan. Kylo ain’t bad, Snoke is gone....well pull out Palpatine I guess. This whole film is JJ’s mad scrambling. Alright, I will humor you, tell me how Palpatine came back when he fell down a shaft and exploded....not *boom boom because of force*. The force in this movie is not canon George Lucas force, it’s just an easy out whenever JJ wants one.

1. Opening Crawl: As soon as I saw this I knew all the leaks were true, I wanted to bolt from the theatre. When I saw them in August I laughed cause it was so ridiculous it couldn’t be true. How could Disney let a whole movie leak? The plot seemed like a bad fan-fiction. Actually, fanfics are way more true to lore. Anyway, so Palpatine “announces” that he’s back. Is this the shrewd Chancellor Palpatine we know? Certainly, not...why in the world would he announce it rather than keep on the DL and just attack. Yo Palps ain’t this dumb why would you let them (the resistance) prepare?? Because of plot...well okay.

2. Did Last Jedi even happen: this film is the sequel to the force awakens, like TLJ never happened...except it’s acting like there was some movie in between that JJ made. Okay, so why is Kylo trying to run Rey over with his tie fighter...he doesn’t really want to kill her. It’s just meaningless action shots. And don’t get me started on exposition, the dialogue: “hey look its the Knights of Ren”. Except they do nothing. Cool cool. Kylo’s character goes back to Force awakens era like no development had occurred...except he’s not even there he’s just messing around not even being a real villain. JJ’s specialty is set-up and he does this beautifully....but he can not wrap up and follow through.

3. Rose Tico: yup last Jedi never happened, she has nothing to do. She and Finn are irrelevant. Finn has reverted to being obsessed with Rey. Cool Cool. I honestly feel so bad for the lovely Kelly Marie Tran. How did you relegate a relatively big character into the sidelines?? Why introduce two new characters this late. Rose could have filmed in for them...but alas we must snub Rian at every turn because that’s just how petty JJ Abrams is. ( don’t get me wrong Jannah was cool)

4. The Rise Of Poe Dameron: Finn has been relegated to a side character who does nothing and just yells “REY!”. It was a great setup, a stormtrooper who was force sensitive but doesn’t want his life to be fighting for nothing. You could have explored trauma, the discovery of the light but nope nada. Tell me the point of his character journey. So flat and static. And with Jannah and the ex stormtroopers they could have gone with the arc of these lost, sad kids coming together to find family.

5. Leia: Okay you’re telling me our Princess would give up on her son before he was born, just throw away her lightsaber and accept Ben’s fate? Cool alright. And she knew about Rey Palpatine and didn’t say anything...my princess would never.

6. Mary Sue Rey: Ahh Rey this girl feels no emotion in this movie...just like the audience. Sure she’s trained but she can just do stuff with the “force” that even Jedi masters can’t. Stopping a whole starship, something even Yoda could barely do...yup she can do it. Beat Kylo all the time except one, yup she can. Manipulate the force in mind-boggling ways, heal people...sure Luke couldn’t but Rey certainly can. Cause she is the chosen one...hell even Ani wasn’t this talented and he had years of training. Poe and Finn have a genuine connection, Rey just seems disjointed (totally understandable why)...but if so the ending is even worse. She doesn’t even find peace with her friends. She’s not realistic and human like Luke and Leia were.

Force sensitivity in the galaxy: What a perfect setup, the boy with the broom at the end of TLJ that was force sensitive. The message is that the power to use the force was spreading through the galaxy. No longer confined to the elite. People were hearing of Luke’s battle of Crate and rising.

7. Kylo/Ben: I still maintain that he, other than Ani was the most nuanced character in the whole saga. His arc from Force Awakens to Last Jedi had progressed. How great that even someone from the legendary line of skywalker and solo could fall to the dark again. He wasn’t flat, he was a tortured boy that was conflicted since the first movie. How great would it have been to see him as a conflicted supreme leader, which was set up in TLJ. But *gasps* a plot of his very own, no can do, this is the nature of JJ’s crush on Rey and Daisy.

Disney released comics that made us sympathize with him, to see that all along he was manipulated by Snoke, and Palpatine the voices in his head. Neglected by those who were supposed to love him. Adam Driver was cast perfectly, he had almost no lines that weren’t related to Rey’s charcater arc. If he were a woman I’m sure everyone would be offended. That single line’s delivery “Dad-”

Come on Poe had more lines than him, and Driver according to JJ was half of the protagonist. He was pitched an arc opposite that of Darth Vader that’s why he signed. Man JJ really did do everyone dirty.

8. Ben had no lines while redeemed other than “ow”...I am so sorry ADAM that this nasty ass JJ did this to you...this part was 100% improv by Adam, I am willing to bet my life on it. You know why “ow” was brilliant? Cause it meant he felt pain and emotion, he was no longer hiding behind the hardness of Kylo REN. Adam’s performance as Ben left me speechless, he was convincing as Kylo, intimidating...but as BEN he shines in the way only Solo’s can. The way his eyes become determined once he accepts he must give his life, and he does so happily for the love of his life. His soulmate. Star Wars and JJ never deserved the talent that is Adam Driver.

9. They are supposed to be equals in the force yet they missed the opportunity to fight Snoke together. Tell me how they are equals. He existed only to further Rey’s plotline.

Oh and the other Jedi including Anakin whisper and help Rey...when his own grandson has been asking for help in distress for like 30years. Nice real nice.

10. Finally Reylo: it felt unearned cause there was no buildup, JJ just threw it in for kicks forgetting all the P&P parallels he was shooting for. An afterthought. Driver and Ridley’s acting saved the day, they had no lines. Adam Driver is truly one of the finest actors. You could see the difference between Ben and Kylo in his subtle gestures...the sass was pure Han Solo.

11. And then the death: I wouldn’t even say we won, but at what cost. We won in no way. Had he died fighting I would have understood, but this death was so unnecessary and put in just for the fanboys. Let me say again I would have been okay with death had it been justified. How is this any different than Vader x Luke. JJ can only copy not create. How crazy that you can just bring people back from the dead...Anakin is here like, am I joke to you? I could have brought Padme back say what???? What was the point of his whole fall to the dark. The force is infinite, that’s the whole point...once you know how to use it you can’t run out of it like juice. Oh, and Ben did not become one with Rey but rather the Force according to the Disney website. So why pray tell did he not appear as a force ghost? I’m convinced JJ was on crack.

12. No Mourning BEN no acknowledgment: 5 seconds! And then she moves on from losing her soulmate, half of her soul. She loses it over Chewie but nothing, no emotion not even a second over her other half. Seriously? No one ever knows Ben came back...nada. JJ set up Reylo, time and time again he has said that he crafted the story around the romance. He was left scrambling after Last Jedi and this was a last-ditch shock ending. No Reylo theme song, no across the stars

13. Last Jedi told us you don’t have to come from a powerful family to be important. THE WHOLE thing was that you could be force-sensitive and be a nobody. Nobodies can become somebody. A Hero is not born but made. The force lives in all beings, not just powerful families. It inspired me, what a great message to young guys and gals. Kylo’s line, “you come from nothing, you are nothing...you have no place in this story” finally turns out true. You have to come from something to have a part in the Star Wars story. And Rey had darkness inside her cause she was human. Because none of us are pure, we are shades of grey. But no, it’s cause darkness only runs in families. In the Last Jedi when she wants to see her family all she sees is herself and a shadow (Ben) who joins with her. Please do explain this JJ. And if this granddaughter thing was set up I would have had no problem...but they pulled it from their asses. You can have nothing but mean something. But no pander to the fanboys. In the end, a Palpatine lived and all the skywalkers ended....and we are supposed to have hope. Palpatine really did win.

14. Rey’s biggest fear was ending up in the desert alone, we were told “the belonging she seeks is ahead not behind” and “there’s someone who could still come back”. They mentioned she felt just as alone with the resistance. Only the other half of her soul understood her. This is truly tragic and sad...I am so heartbroken for her. And don’t tell me she isn’t there to stay...the soundtrack is called “a new home”. Enjoy the rest of your days being exactly where you started Rey....but hey at least you got a droid boo. I’m convinced this is not the balance JJ envisioned in the first movie. At one point in TFA Rey looks up sees an old woman alone, scavenging in the desert. This rattles her to the core and it starts her journey of wanting a better, different life. I am so sorry Rey. Okay so you may say she has the resistance and her friends...but let’s consult the last Jedi. In the end when everyone is on the ship...Rey is surrounded by friends yet looks more alone than ever. No one but Ben, maybe Luke, Leia, and Han understood her pull to the dark.

How sad that these two hopeless souls who had never known a moment of belonging and true love, found it for all but a few seconds.

I will quote: “preventing female characters with strong, compelling narratives from experiencing love, intimacy, and affection is just as regressive as reducing them down to sexual accessories. Assumes that women must choose between a romantic interest and depth of character”

Men really can not write good female characters, can they? A woman really can’t be a badass and end up with the love of her life

15. The Skywalker’s and Redemption: How truly truly sad that Han and Leia gave their life for their son who also died at a young age. ALL the Skywalkers and Solo’s have a tragic end. This is not what George Lucas wanted. What a tragic way to end this saga...they weren't able to break the curse. AND to all those troubled kids out there that lashed out and made terrible mistakes in their youth....doesn’t matter what you do dying is the only way out. You could have exiled him, made him pay in other ways. Nothing can be done to make up for your sins but death, no amount of good means that you can come home. To the young boys that get wrapped up in terror organizations, sorry the only way you can be redeemed is death...don’t bother changing and coming back. They could have exiled him, had him start an academy with Rey for Jedi kids. He could have spent the rest of his days redeeming himself. Why tell us he was literally preyed upon, haunted, and manipulated as a child. Even in a fantasy world, a victim of mental illness and abuse can not catch a break. Ben as a child could not fall asleep due to the demon-like voices in his mind. Everyone abandoned him in his time of need. Ben never desired power like Anakin, he went over to the dark because “the voice” of his grandfather promised belonging. I am shocked that this is the message Disney sends us. Oh and yeah you can totally take on the Skywalker name for kicks...the disrespect I swear

16. The worst bit is that I am 90% sure there was another ending that was scrapped. There was a promo shot of Jannah in a field, soft lighting, lush planet. It was exactly like P&P. Daisy Ridley said the lasts scene was known to only Her, Jannah on that panel (Driver was away). Convinced Jannah was looking at Rey and Ben starting a new life away from the desert which she and Luke hate so much. Hence the production of “A New Home” soundtrack. Hence why the “Farewell” song played behind Reylo kiss was hopeful. Why Luke’s soundtrack when he became part of the force was not triumphant. Why the death scene was sudden and cut weird and no sorrow from Rey. CAUSE THEY SCRAPPED THE ORIGINAL ENDING LAST MINUTE. Everyone knows JJ was still editing one month before. The concept art which was supposed to be released this month has been pushed to March. Why you ask? They need to remove the pages with a happy ending. He just didn’t have the guts, pandered to everyone and yet no one. He was successful in creating a beautifully filmed action-filled movie with none of the heart of Star Wars.

And then she goes and buries Anakin’s saber on freaking TATOOINE. He HATES Sand and Luke wanted to get away from there as soon as possible. Of course, a Palpatine would torture them that way. But nostalgia is the cash cow so. JJ can only generate nostalgia, not create original stories. IF he had any creativity she would have buried it at Padme’s grave.

The fanboys say “leave the romance for the romance movies”....have you seen the original trilogy or the prequels? Star Wars has always had hope and romance entwined with it.

SO AFTER 40 YEARS...PALPATINE WINS...HIS BLOODLINE LIVES ON

...and people thought the prequels were bad

JJ you also said that your goal was for people to come out of the movie feeling more hopeful and happy then they went in...yet here I am. My roommate literally had to console me and buy me ice cream. I am just so numb. I am sure the casual fan will enjoy this, as seen from the rotten tomatoes ratings. I think the critics were too generous with this one,

Star Wars is very simple at its core, Good vs Bad and Dark vs Light. The kids are expected to understand that a Palpatine being the only one who lives is hopeful? That is the conclusion of three generations of Skywalker sacrifice...

This is how the Skywalkers are remembered...In Tragedy and Curse??

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villainousshakespeare · 4 years ago

Text

Learning a Lesson Chapter 9

iLearning a Lesson Chapter 8

Part 1 Here, Part 2 Here, Part 3 Here, Part 4 Here, Part 5 Here, Part 6 Here, Part 7 Here, Part 8 Here

Young Actor Tom Hiddleston/OFC

Rated E -Smut, Angst, Complicated Relationship - Teacher/Actor Posing as Student, Feels, Flirting, Fluff, Oral Sex, Sex, Shower Sex, Threats, Breakups, Angst…

ANGST IN THIS CHAPTER! (but don’t worry… I’m a hopeless romantic)

Summary: It’s your first day as a teacher and things are going well. That is, until a tall, gorgeous boy with blond curls and dramatic ways saunters into your last class. When he ignores all the swooning girls to flirt outrageously with you, it is secretly thrilling. Even more so is when he tries to steal a kiss after class ends. How long will you be able to keep your defenses up?

Up and Coming actor Tom is under cover in high school for research for a movie, but the pretty drama teacher is making the long assignment so much more enjoyable

@arch-venus25, @caffiend-queen @ciaodarknessmyheart @frostbitten-written @just-the-hiddles @kellatron55 @myoxisbroken @nonsensicalobsessions @poetic-fiasco @shiningloki @shae-annelore @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy @hiddlesholic @yespolkadotkitty @vodka-and-some-sass @wolfsmom1 @tom-hlover @toozmanykids @delightfulheartdream @whyispistashanuttaken @hopelessromanticspoonie; @loki-yoursaviourishere @is-it-madness

The Monday morning walk to school was the longest of Emily's life. With every step she took she was tempted to turn around and run the other way, hiding under her blankets and weeping rather than going on. Only a deep seated stubborn streak kept her from giving in to her fears and doing just that.

She needn't have worried. Tom was true to his word. There was no sign of him to be found in school. No infectious laugh ringing through the hallway, no tousled halo of blond hair floating above the shorter students amidst a throng of admirers, and no ice blue eyes seeking hers for a secret wink or speaking glance.

Emily told herself it was for the best. She hoped she would eventually believe it.

The other god-send was that Jim Howard seemed to have called in sick. A substitute was in his classroom when she got there, and never had she been so glad to see the old woman than she was that day. She assumed that it was his pride that kept him from walking into the building with a black eye and a swollen jaw, and took evil delight in the fact that Tom had so thoroughly trounced him.

Tom. There he was again. She could not go five minutes without calling him to mind. It was going to be a long day. Hell, it was going to be a long forever as far as she knew. How long would it take to get over the golden boy who had so completely won her heart?

Half a day was how long it took for the news of his exit to hit the school grapevine. Emily began hearing his name whispered during her fourth period class. By the time that class ended and she made her way to the staff lounge it was all anyone was talking about. Ada, Janis, and Mike were gossiping about it when she came in, a pathetic lunch of coffee and a banana in her hand.

"Well, anyone with eyes could have seen that that boy should be a movie star," Janis was opining. "It doesn't surprise me one bit."

"Oh, come on Janis," Mike laughed, skepticism showing, "he was handsome, sure, but there's no way you saw this coming!"

"I'm not saying that," Janis sniffed. "Obviously I didn't know he was an actor. But if anyone in this school was destined for greatness it was Martinsson."

"Hiddleston," Mike corrected her. "Apparently that's his real name. You're awfully quiet, Emily. You were close with the boy, weren't you? Tutoring him after hours and all?"

"Not that close," she said with a half shrug. "He claimed to want help with an audition monologue, but that was obviously for show. We never actually worked on it. Just class."

The words were true enough as far they went, even if the meaning behind them was an all out lie.

"Still, he clearly preferred you," Ada said, giving her a probing look. "I heard all sorts of chatter about how he always flirted with you, volunteering to read romantic scenes with you. I was a little jealous, to tell the truth. I mean, and I can say it now that I know he's a genuine adult - what I wouldn't have given for a chance to sculpt a nude of that boy!"

"No wonder Howard hated him so much," Mike laughed good naturedly. "It seems it's not just the high school girls who had a thing for him."

Emily did her best to tune them out after that, and took to eating in her classroom. The days blended into each other, with no end of the day secret to make them stand out as special.

The kids in her drama class were all excited of course. The thought that they had read scenes with an honest to goodness actor, one who was going to be starring in a movie, made them practically giddy. Kate began recirculating the lie that the two of them had been involved, and no one dared to correct her. Emily was angry on his behalf, offended that anyone would believe he would fool around with a student, until she realized the implications of that thought.

It was that guilt that was the worst. Well, along with the loneliness. Even if he had been an adult, she hadn't known that. She had thought him no different than Kate or Zack or Jamie, and she had slept with him anyway. She deserved all the pain she was feeling. Deserved more than that; to loose her job and never be hired again, even. More and more she slipped into a depression.

It was nine days after she had thrown him out of her apartment and her life that the first letter arrived. She grabbed her mail from the small slot inside the door and rifled through it on the way up the stairs as she always did, expecting nothing more than bills and solicitations. When she turned over an envelope addressed in an instantly recognizable hand, she felt as though she had been punched in the gut. Hands shaking, she opened the seal, afraid that if she didn't do it at once she would never find the courage, and unfolded a letter.

"My Darling Emily," it began in Tom's loopy mess of long hand, "I know I have no right to write to you, having broken your trust in the most caddish way possible. I only hope that you will allow me the opportunity to once more take advantage of your goodness of heart and kindness of disposition, that I may try to explain why I orchestrated such a hurtful charade.

"As you are patently aware now, I am an actor of both stage and screen. I take my profession very seriously, perhaps more so than it deserves, though I like to believe that you among all women will understand why. If I can peel away the layers of a character enough to expose the beating heart within, allowing my audience to sees even a piece of the truth of humanity in my portrayal, then I truly believe that I am contributing something to this shared experience we all are living. Pretentious as that sounds, it is my goal every time I assume a role, be it Iago or a soldier, or even Mr. Toad.

"When I was cast as a student from the States, I knew I had my work cut out for me. I was educated, I blush to say my love, in the best schools in England: Eton, Cambridge, and RADA. My good fortune has been quite excessive, I know, though no teacher I encountered in all of my tutelage could hold a candle to you, my darling. In any case, I was woefully unprepared to know the struggle such a young man was going through. My director came up with the idea to have me pose in a small town school, and I admit I leapt at the chance.

"Never in a million years would I have guessed that I would meet the woman of my dreams in such a situation.

"I confess that in the beginning I flirted with you to amuse myself. You are quite breathtakingly beautiful, my sweet, and I was bored beyond belief. As the days went on, however, I began to uncover the woman underneath the starched blouses and pencil skirts. A woman with a mind that soared and a soul that sung. One who shared my passion for stage poetry, and did not back down from a challenge.

"In short, my darling Emily, I fell in love with you.

"I should have told you the moment our relation crossed over the line. Alas my love, I fear that it is a coward who worships you. I was afraid that if you learned the truth you would be angry, and I wanted to collect as many precious moments with you as I could before your warm eyes turned cold. My sin is great, I know. I do not deserve to be forgiven. Nonetheless, I place my heart at your feet in hope that you will take it up, take pity on me, and not stomp it beneath your shoe.

"The film I am working on seized the opportunity afforded by my early matriculation to begin shooting. I am relocated to New York City to start principal photography. I know it is a mere two hours from you, and yet it feels the length of the world. Knowing I will not see you each day, hold you at night, is a weight on my soul that I know I have only myself to blame for.

"I ask nothing of you, my dearest Emily, but that you allow me to write to you. I do not expect you to write back, although I live in hope that one day you will. The distance keeps us apart, but perhaps that need not be all bad. Perhaps it can give you time to heal and to trust me once more. Let me write to you, to tell you about myself - my real self - and try to win your friendship back if nothing else. It has been the most important of my life.

"I do not flatter myself that I will ever hold you again, kiss your soft lips, feel you beneath me as you gasp in passion. I have too great a mark against me to hope for such grace. I would die to have it, but will not impose it on you. Just let me try to heal the hurt I have done, and I will be content.

"If you cannot find it within you to accept my offer of friendship in the form of epistles, simply write me with one word. 'Stop' and I will cease. You are in control, my heart. I will bow to your wishes.

"Please take good care of yourself, my Emily. I wish I could be their to tend to you myself. Be warry of the dread maths teacher. I know it is no longer my place, but I would ask you to not be alone around him.

"Enough of that. I will end for now. Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow.

"My heart is yours.

All my love,

Tom."

Emily read the letter through, barley able to make out the words through the tears welling in her eyes. When she had finished, she collapsed onto the bed and read it through again, openly weeping this time. All of the pain and guilt she had been holding in came flooding out. In the end, she had to put the letter aside so that the deluge of her tears didn't permanently mar the ink composing the lines. By then she knew it by heart, but she still loved to see his strong hand scrawled out over the page.

She did not for a moment consider writing him to stop. Perhaps she should have. There was no future she could see for the two of them. Her trust had been shattered, along with her mental image of herself, by the situation. On top of that, he was away, filming a movie in the big city that she rarely went to. When this movie was ended, who knew where he would be? Jetting off to exotic countries? Treading the boards in London? His life was exciting and adventurous, and she was a little mouse of a school teacher from a small town. How could they hope to make a relationship work, even without their drama?

The letters came far more frequently than she had expected. While it was not every day, Tom was clearly grasping every spare moment he had to pour out his heart to her. He told her all about the filming process. She felt as though she knew his costars, so vividly did he depict them. Against her will, Emily would find herself laughing at ridiculous anecdotes, or groaning in commiseration at delays in the shooting.

In the midst of all of these tales of misadventures and productivity, Tom made clear to he still hoped to win Emily back. He never missed an opportunity to praise her, calling her darling, his sweet, his dear, his love. He mentioned how he had suggested that one of the teachers should be young, smart, and sexy as an homage to her, though no one could possibly do her justice. He let slip that he had been making his costars groan with his continual referencing her, to the point where they teased him any time her name arose.

At the end of each letter he dropped all pretense, stating plainly that he loved her and would do anything to win her back. He insisted that he would wait, that the decision was entirely hers, but that he lived in hope that one day she would write him back, telling him she forgave him. Until that day, he would soldier on and try to deserve her.

Several times Emily found herself sitting down, trying to pen a reply to him. She wanted, desperately wanted, to do so. But each time, the fear would come crashing down and she would end up tearing the letter to shreds.

About two months after the letters started, there was a longer than usual gap between arrivals. Emily began to think that he had given up on her, and a panic she had never felt gripped her. She had not realized the extent to which she had been living for his words.

When an envelope finally arrived, it was in an international envelope, and the return address was London, England. That was it, then. He was out of the country. All of the stories of his homecoming, complete with welcoming family, were a dagger to her. He still professed his love, but now an actual ocean separated them along with the sea of emotion.

Their were two more letters, spread over a month and a half, and then nothing for three weeks. Depression returned. She had all but given up when a card shaped envelope, gilded on the edges, arrived in her box.

***

"Alright, out with it!"

Emily looked up from the pile of papers she was grading to see Ada standing in her classroom door, arms crossed over her paint splattered apron and a determined look on her face.

"Out with what?" Emily asked, confusion genuine.

"It's been four months, Emily," the older woman said, shutting the door behind her as she walked in and sat at one of the student desks. The same desk, Emily couldn't help but note, that had once been Tom's.

"Sorry?"

"Four months that you have been moping around! Barely showing your face in the teacher's lounge, looking like someone stole your dog and kicked your kitten. This, from the girl who was such a spark of joy when she was hired that she even ignited passion for teaching in an old war horse like me!"

"I'm sorry," Emily mumbled.

"Don't be sorry, girl! Tell me what's wrong!"

"It's nothing."

"Emily, do you think I'm blind?" Ada asked with a sigh.

"No..."

"Or that I'm stupid?"

"Of course not!"

"Good," Ada snorted. "As I am neither. Four months ago, a certain long-legged boy with more looks than are good for anyone swaggered out of this school, and you have been a ghost ever since. It's not hard to put the pieces together."

Emily gaped at her, all color draining from her face. If Ada knew, or strongly suspected, was it then general knowledge? Was her shame a joke amongst the faculty, or a cause of scorn?

"Don't worry, hun," Ada said, as though reading her mind. "Most of the people around here are blind and stupid. No one else has any idea. Well, maybe Jim, but that's a whole other can of worms that I am not too keen on digging around in. So, you fell for the boy, huh?"

"You must despise me," Emily said, voice hardly above a whisper.

"So you're failing is that you're deaf," Ada shook her head. "How many times did you hear me rhapsodize about him? Hell, I was undressing him with my eyes every damn day!"

"But you never took it farther than that."

"No, I didn't. But then I am decades older than either one of you and was not given the opportunity. Who knows what I might have done if he had batted those long golden lashes at me and flashed a dimple."

"You wouldn't have slept with a student," Emily said doggedly.

"Is that what this is? That you feel guilty? Tell me something, Emily: would you ever even consider anything inappropriate with say... Jack Simmons, or Zach Lewis, or Dan Fielding? Would it even occur to you?"

"No," Emily said at once, repulsed by the very idea.

"Of course not. Because they are children. The Simmons boy is a hulking child, true, but even though he is big, he is still an adolescent. You can easily tell in a moment he is not an adult. Now, compare that to Tom. He has a baby face, and is all gangly, but there was something about him that flatly identified him as a man. You knew that, instinctively. That is why you let things play out the way you did."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because I know you," Ada said simply. "You are a good person, with a moral compass. Was it a stupid thing to do? Of course! It could have ended horribly for you, and thank god it didn't! But don't beat yourself up for listening to your intuition when it turned out to be right! Even if the boy did end up being a snake."

"What if he wasn't?" Emily asked carefully.

"I just assumed... he left, and you didn't seem happy about it... Emily, what did happen?"

Emily looked at her friend, chewing on her lip as she decided what to say. Ada already knew the worst; what harm could it do to let her in on the rest? In a rush it all came out. The clandestine affair, the trouble with Mr. Howard, seeing Tom on Nicholas Nickleby, their disastrous fallout, all of it. Ada sat there rapt as Emily spilled the whole sordid story.

"He really punched Jim?" Ada asked when she had finished, a huge grin spread over her face.

"Twice," Emily confirmed, answering smile on her own mouth. "Hard. Knocked him flat onto the ground."

"Oh, would I have loved to have seen that."

"I could have lived without it, honestly."

"Oh, hun, I don't know what to tell you," Ada shook her head. "I don't even know whether to feel jealous of you sorry for you. Both, I suppose. Ah, to be young again."

"He's been writing me letters," Emily confessed, face reddening. "Ever since he left."

"What does he say?" Ada's eyes were huge.

"Different things. How his day is going. About the filming. That he loves me and wants to be with me."

"Well what the hell are you doing here then?" Ada stood from the desk to stare at her.

"Ada..."

"Girl, if that young man wanted me, you can bet that nothing would keep me away!"

"He's in London," she muttered.

"Did something happen to all the airplanes?"

"No... In fact..."

"In fact what, Emily? Spill it? Give a woman something to live vicariously through!"

With a sigh, Emily dug through her bag and pulled out the card she had received the day before. It was an invitation to a movie premiere in New York City. Folded along with that was a train ticket, prepaid first class, and a small note:

"I would not wish Any companion in the world but you, Nor can imagination form a shape, Besides yourself, to like of.

Tom (with all thanks to Miranda in The Tempest)"

"Well," Ada smiled at her, "when shall we go shopping? You, my dear, are going to need a dress!"

#Tom Hiddleston #tom hiddleston rpf #Tom Hiddleston/OFC #fic #fanfic #love #angst #pining #letters #love letters #smut (in other chapters)#teacher/student relationship #BUT NOT REALLY #he is undercover for a role #I am a sucker for a happy ending I promise!

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sometimesitrytowritethings · 4 years ago

Text

Mountain Man: Part 6

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Angst, Swearing

Summary: You never thought you’d love again. Then Arthur Morgan came into town. Fate continuously has you meeting each other in odd ways, and a troubled past is something you are both familiar with. Perhaps that’s what will make this time different.

-----

You awoke the next morning to the sound of birds chirping and early morning sunlight streaming into your room. You could vaguely hear Ben’s voice from downstairs as he chattered away to either Mary or Ms. Chadwick. A glance at the wooden clock hanging on the wall over the door told you it was not quite 7:00 - and since Ben seemed thoroughly distracted you decided to stay in bed and take a few extra minutes to yourself to reflect on the night before. It had been a long time since you had awoken with a smile on your face, but today your grin stretched from ear to ear.

After your fortunate (or unfortunate?) interruption the night before, the two of you had decided it would be best to call it a night. Aside from the fact that you barely knew each other, Valentine was a town without secrets, and if anyone caught a glimpse of what you had been up to, you would never live it down.

After you managed to catch your breath, you had tugged on your jacket, rebuttoned the top few buttons on your blouse, and were straightening up your hair when a sudden wave of thorough exhaustion hit you. You had had more than enough excitement for one day, and were ready to get home and collapse in bed - even if that meant you were forced to leave the man in front of you.

The man, whose face had still been flushed, and who hadn’t bothered to fully rebutton his shirt. The man who still was looking lustfully at you, even as he stood a few meters away to contain himself. Dragging him home with you, bringing him up to your room, was so incredibly tempting. Alas, your exhaustion won out, and you forced yourself to head home alone.

Originally, you had wanted to avoid any awkward silence on your trip home and bid him farewell when you had reached the street in front of the sheriff’s office. However, after having walked you around the building and to his horse, still hitched at the saloon, Arthur insisted on walking you the rest of the way.

Luckily, the walk was short, and although the two of you were lost for words, the silence somehow wasn’t awkward. Rather, it seemed that both of you were lost in your thoughts, moseying back and occasionally eyeing the other. You reached the boarding house in no time.

The lights were all out, the house again quiet as everyone slept. In the window, you could see the faint outline of Ben’s wooden horse, which he occasionally left out to watch for you when he went to bed. The corners of your lips turned up into a small smile at the thought of your son, worried about you after today’s adventures, putting up a lookout so that he would know when you were home.

In the yard, Arthur tied off his horse’s lead, and walked you up the few steps to the door. You followed his lead, stopping when he turned to you. “Look…” he started, taking off his hat and running a hand through his hair. “What you said back there…”

“Did I mean it?” you finished for him, not wanting to allow him to dig deeper into that well of self-deprecation that he was constantly drinking from. You let out a breathy laugh, it really was unbelievable how much he doubted himself. The old floorboards on the porch creaked slightly as you stepped closer to him, taking his free hand in yours. “Yes… absolutely,” you told him quietly, before standing on your toes and placing a light kiss on his cheek. Not giving him any time to respond, you brushed past him and to the door. “Goodnight, Mountain Man.”

You don’t know how long he stood there once you had gone inside, but once the door had closed you had leaned against it and held in an excited squeal. It had been so long since you had felt this. This exciting, heart-pounding, overwhelming feeling hadn’t been a part of your life since Andrew, and you couldn't help yourself - you wanted more.

Slowly, you had made your way upstairs, careful to avoid any creaky floorboards. Ben was fast asleep in bed, the drawing once again clutched to his chest. You again pried it from his hands, careful not to rip it, gave him a kiss on the forehead, and fell into bed, exhausted.

The next morning, having allowed yourself a few extra minutes of rest, you finally got out of bed and made yourself ready for the day. A wide smile graced your face and you were wholly unable to shoo away the butterflies in your stomach. It felt like you were once again a lovestruck teenager, and for some reason you were completely fine with that.

You took your breakfast inside with Mary and Ben, who had somehow whipped up a feast of scrambled eggs, fresh bread, and aromatic coffee. You suspected it was more Mary’s doing than Ben’s, but thanked the two of them equally, regardless. You smacked an intentionally wet kiss on Ben’s cheek, the smile never leaving your face, and ate.

---

A few hours later, the three of you had cleaned up the dishes and since moved to the living room for a game of dominoes. You sat alongside Mary on an aging yellow sofa, in front of a low coffee table. Ben bounced up and down on his knees, kneeling on the dingy rug in front of you. The dominos were an old set, inherited from your mother-in-law who had bought them as a child. The paint was fading, and a couple of pieces were lost to the ages, but they were still playable, despite their faults.

After a few rounds, a timid knock on the door reached your ears. You, already too far behind in points to even consider a comeback, stood from your seat to answer it.

You laughed at the other two, shushing them as you exited the room. The hallway was bright in the mid-morning light, reflecting off a small, dingy mirror on the back wall. There was an obvious skip in your step as you made your way to the door, which creaked lightly as you opened it to reveal a familiar man standing on the porch.

He was dressed in the same clothes as the evening before, his hair slightly mussed, and was looking out into the field in front of the house. His arms rested on the porch railing, his hands clasped together. He must have heard the creak of old hinges, because he quickly turned to face you almost immediately after the door had fully opened.

The grin on your face, ever present since the previous evening, only grew wider upon seeing him. “Arthur!” you smiled, stepping out into the morning air and starting to close the door behind you. “What are you doing here?” you chided, grin morphing into a playful smirk. You tilted your head to the side, taking in the man before you.

He cleared his throat and reached up to take his hat from his head. For some reason, he didn’t return your flirting, which made you falter. You were immediately beginning to feel the seeds of doubt growing inside of you. Was he regretting the previous night? Did he come here to tell you that it couldn’t happen again?

Quietly, he spoke your name and cleared his throat. “I… I was comin’ to see... a friend,” he managed, looking at the ground.

And there it was. The way he paused before saying “friend” made it all click into place. Unless he was here to see Ms. Chadwick, there was only one other person he could possibly be visiting.

Mary.

Mary, who needed help finding her brother. Mary, who had seen former acquaintances in town. Mary, who had mentioned calling on her long lost love for help.

Of course that love was Arthur.

You cleared your throat again, regaining your composure and taking a small step back towards the still ajar door. “Oh… well that’s good,” you plastered a practiced smile on your face. Covering your sadness and disappointment had become second nature to you in the last few years. “Here I thought you were following me or something,” you teased, hoping the disappointment in your voice wouldn’t come through.

It did.

Arthur, thankfully, at least pretended he didn’t notice. His response was more in line with your meetings throughout the week, beginning with what should have been one of those loud barks of a laugh. Instead, it was breathy and dejected. “What kind of man do you take me for, miss?” he retorted, evidently trying his best to ignore your feelings and hide his own.

It didn’t work.

“I’m not so sure anymore, Mountain Man,” you breathed, far less flirty than you had originally intended. You wanted to sink into the floor. On the off chance that he hadn’t noticed your disappointment earlier, he most certainly would have after that comment. You looked away from him and cleared your throat into your hand, hoping to cover your crestfallen face.

“It’s nice to see you, of course,” he muttered, breaking a very awkward silence that had overcome the two of you. He continued fiddling with the edge of his hat and looked at you from his position across the porch. “But is... um… is Mrs. Linton in?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and glanced back toward the door. “Oh, Mary?” you responded, feigning slight surprise. You were right, and you hated it. Why couldn’t he have come to visit Ms. Chadwick? “I think so, I’ll go see…” you murmured, biting your lip and turning to walk back into the house, closing the door as you did so.

For a second, you leaned back against the door as you had the night before. But this time, you were significantly less giddy. A strange feeling had overtaken you - another of those that you hadn’t felt in years. Jealousy.

You contemplated not calling for her; going back outside and telling Arthur that she had already left. You shook those thoughts off almost immediately, however. Not only was that a completely obvious lie, but what good would it do? You had known him for only a few weeks, had seen him only a few times. A night of something almost intimate behind the sheriff's office gave you no claim over him. And god forbid you stand in the way of reuniting a lost love.

If he wanted to be with Mary, if he still loved her, you weren’t going to stop him. “Mary?” you called, your voice slightly hoarse. You swallowed your pride and fiddled with the ring on your finger. “You have a caller!”

“Thank you!” you heard her from the living room, followed by the sound of her standing and delicate footsteps moving towards the hallway. “Coming!”

Before she made it out of the room, you pushed yourself from the door and opened it slightly for her. She slipped past you without another word, but with a hopeful smile on her face. In the few weeks she had been here, you had yet to see her like this. She was glowing.

You closed the door behind her, fully intending to give them their privacy and head back into the living room, but the way she breathed out his name as the door creaked to a close stopped you in your tracks. It was full of love, longing, disappointment; more emotions than you had seen the woman express in her entire time in Valentine.

The temptation to listen in on their conversation was too great. Quietly, carefully, you leaned back against the door, pressing an ear to the wood. Luckily, the old door was as bad at blocking sound as it was keeping out the cold in winter.

“Hello, Arthur,” Mary breathed. You could picture her looking at him fondly, lovingly. As if their relationship had never ended. As if she had never remarried.

Then it was Arthur’s turn. Although his voice held the same fondness, the same longing, the same love, it was more disheartened. It was the voice of a broken man. “Mary… I, um…”

Mary interrupted him, knowing he wasn’t a man of words, knowing it was hard for him to express his feelings. “I heard you and your friends was around… I…” it was her turn to falter, as if she were unsure of where to steer the conversation.

“Okay,” Arthur continued, when it was apparent that Mary didn’t know what else to say. “Where’s what’s-his-name?”

“Died,” her response was short, and you could hear her footsteps on the porch as she walked closer to him.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” Arthur responded. And from what you could hear, he did sound sorry. But there was something else, something new in his voice that was hard to hear through the wood of the door. Hope.

“Yeah, me too,” she answered, quickly, trying to move the conversation forward and away from the increasingly depressing topic. “Happened a while ago. Pneumonia.”

“Bad business,” it was a formality, really. He obviously couldn’t immediately come out and ask why she was there, if she was there for him. But you knew it was coming. Now that the re-introductions were over, it was inevitable, and you couldn’t bear to listen any further.

Quietly, you pushed yourself away from the door, trying hard not to listen to any more of the conversation. It was obvious enough from his earlier demeanor that Arthur was still in love with her, and now that she was free again, he had his chance. He could finally live the life that he deserved, and you most certainly would not be one to stop him.

After all, you barely knew the man. He wasn’t yours to claim and he certainly wasn’t yours to lose.

Not ten minutes later, Mary bustled back into the house and stole your attention from the living room, where you had started a new game of dominoes with Ben as a distraction. She made her way down the hallway, a renewed spring in her step and a happy smile on her face.

“Oh, you won’t believe what’s just happened,” she told you, drawing your hands into hers and sitting beside you on the couch. You could practically feel the excitement radiating off her. “I’m just… oh, I’m so happy.” She looked into your eyes, her own brimming with joyful tears.

You looked back at her, again swallowing the lump in your throat and pretending not to have heard any of her conversation with Arthur. “Hm?”

Hands still clasped in yours, she continued, “It’s Arthur. I knew it had to have been him that you met in town the minute I saw that drawing.” She looked towards Ben, who had since turned his focus to the two of you. He was fiddling with two of the dominoes and grinning back at her.

“The horse picture?” he asked, standing from his place on the floor and coming to sit with the two of you on the couch. Mary finally let go of your hands and scooted to the side to make space for him. Excited to have been helpful, he wiggled his way in between the two of you and allows you to wrap an arm around him. “It’s my favorite! Mr. Mountain Man can draw real good!”

“Oh, he certainly can, Ben,” Mary cooed, releasing one of your hands to ruffle his curls. He giggled and ducked slightly out of her way. “And if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have been certain that he was in town at all. But as soon as I saw that drawing I knew it was him, and I wrote to him last night.”

She turned to look at you again, and you prayed that you were effectively hiding your dismay. You plastered a forced smile to your face and nodded, letting her continue despite the hurt.

“And he came! Not a day later, and he’s here and helping me find Jamie!” she explained further, confirming what you had already suspected. “He… well, it’s wonderful to see him again. I’ve thought of him so often, especially after Barry, and… it… it really feels like he’s changed. He used to be so rough and… reckless. And he’s certainly still rough, he’s still running with those brutish outlaws, but it seems like he’s grown. He’s… he’s calmer. He’s thinking things through.”

You cleared your throat and nodded, unable to speak, and instead let her continue her lovestruck rambling.

You knew what it was like to lose someone you love, and you knew what it was like to desperately want them back in your life. So, if Mary and Arthur might be able to have that, you certainly weren’t going to get in the way. She didn’t need to know about whatever it was that you had had with him. She didn’t need to know how you felt. You didn’t want to ruin her happiness. Besides, if he loved her, whatever you had had was irrelevant anyway.

“I… I think he’s changed… he’s changing... for the better,” she continued, gently saying your name with a hopeful smile. “I think we may have another chance.”

She stayed on the couch with you and Ben for only a moment longer before standing and leaving the room to pack in a flurry of anticipation. Her light footsteps reached the top of the stairs before you heard your name being called. “Would you mind being a dear and helping me gather my things?” came her voice through the hallway. “I’d like to meet them at the train station as soon as they return.”

You sighed, pushing yourself off of the old couch reluctantly. “Of course, Mary,” you called back to her, smiling bittersweetly down at your son and placing a kiss to his forehead, more thankful than ever that you had him.

#rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #Arthur Morgan #Arthur Morgan x reader #arthur morgan x f!reader #f!reader

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goutheswimqueen · 4 years ago

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thoughts on free! s3? what do you think went wrong/right/what you wish it would’ve went etc

I could quite literally go on FOREVER about season 3 and y’know what you asked for it so I’m just gonna ramble until I feel good about it lmao.

Now first I have to say that I wholeheartedly love season 3 with the deepest passion in my bones. I genuinely didn’t think that we were ever going to GET a season 3 in the first place, so the fact that it exists is just... so meaningful to me as someone whose favorite franchise is Free! and someone whose life was saved by these dumbass swimmers.

I will say that season 3 isn’t what I wanted from it. I wanted it to be centered on Nagisa, Rei, Gou, Sousuke, Ai, and Momo. I love Haru with my entire being but I really really REALLY wanted to see a series centered on the Iwatobi trio. They’re so underrated and I felt like they were lowkey sidelined in Eternal Summer so I wanted to see them shine and grow together in their third year. But of course Kyoani has just been setting them aside more and more as time has gone on so I feel like that was nothing but a hopeless dream lmao. I have a lot of headcanons and AUs about what went on with everyone who was still in Iwatobi while the rest of the gang was in Tokyo. The little bits that Kyoani gave us of them were beautiful, I will admit. Episode 11 is my FAVORITE episode of season 3. The fact that Rei WON A NATIONAL RACE??? Like, come on. I wish we could’ve seen the work that he put in to even be able to do that in the first place. That moment where he ponders what he’ll be doing after high school really gets to me too because I would love to know what the fuck he and the others are gonna do. I wish we could’ve seen the moments in their third year that led to whatever decisions they will make. I wanted to see the Iwatobi trio go through the absolute wringer together lmao. I wanted angst I wanted to see their journey that led them to where they are now. I wanted to see more of them growing with the new trio too. I wanted to learn more about Gou and Sousuke’s past through their interactions in her third year. If the season was longer I feel like they could’ve had it be half the Iwatobi arc and half the Tokyo arc, y’know what I mean?

Nonetheless, I love season 3 for what it was. I’m so beyond happy that they brought in Asahi, Ikuya, Natsuya, and Nao, you have no idea. The High Speed! characters hold such a special place in my heart. I wish Asahi would’ve had more of an arc/character development though, and I wish Nao was more included. I think Natsuya’s character arc was my favorite of the whole season. Seeing the trash traveling man that he had become and his interactions with Rin and Sousuke really stuck with me for some reason. And that line that he had when he was talking to Ikuya and fucking crying like, “a dream to fight for my strength and pride, plain and simple.” That shit fucked me up bro. We all meme about Natsuya a lot but I feel like there’s a lot of deeper shit there that’s yet to be explored. When we met Ryuuji I was genuinely convinced that he was Ikuya and Natsuya’s father because it would explain a lot about Natsuya’s behavior. A trash dad who wasn’t really there for his family and just kinda fucked off to travel the world training swimmers until he found one that met his expectations? That would’ve added so much to Natsuya and Ikuya’s background stories and their character arcs. Like can you imagine? Natsuya not initially going into professional swimming because the fact that his father LEFT to find a swimmer to train instead of training his own damn son because he didn’t see that potential in him??? Natsuya being inspired by Ikuya to work hard to prove their father wrong??????? Nao punching Ryuuji square in the nose the moment he sees him???????????? A fucking gold mine that Kyoani could’ve dove into, but no he’s related to Shizuru lmao.

I could go on forever about Natsuya in season 3 cuz I just really, really loved his arc but I’m gonna keep rolling haha. Hiyori was probably the most unexpected thing from season 3 and I just... love him so much. Like his absolute snakey behavior gave me the same chills that that scene of Sousuke pushing Haru against a vending machine in episode 2 of Eternal Summer gave me. I LOVE that shit. The Free! antagonists just keep getting bitchier and bitchier lmao. I also relate to Hiyori on a deeper level. I too have been selfishly protective of my best friends in a way that... really just wasn’t the way to go. Like jeez Hiyori I understand how you feel but maybe let them talk to Ikuya at least once??? Chill with the possessiveness? Idk I know Hiyori is the source of a lot of discourse lol, but that’s just how I feel because of my own similar experiences with myself and others who’ve acted in a similar way. I do wish his beef at the other boys wasn’t solved by just fuckin... swimming with Haru lmfaoooooo. Like I wish they just would’ve added more to his conversation with Ikuya when he asked him to join the relay with him.

I was quite satisfied with Rin’s arc in season 3. It just like, made perfect sense to me I guess lmao. I know he wasn’t there much but I don’t know what else they could or should have done with him, if that makes sense. The fact that his coach is Ai’s uncle is just the best thing ever too lmao.

I was also very happy with Haru’s arc actually!! Seeing how much he has grown makes me feel like a proud mom. Ya boi is tired of the bullshit and the miscommunication haha. Of course I’ll always wish he didn’t go into pro swimming but alas, gotta deal with it I guess. I love his dynamic with Ryuuji and the way that he has dealt with pro swimming though. And his decision to go into the individual medley absolutely made me lose my mind. I didn’t know I needed to see him swim the other strokes until it happened and I just, I loved that so muchhh.

I alsooooo enjoyed Ikuya’s arc. Seeing someone from your past again like that can 100% have that effect on you. I just kinda wish we understood more about like, why he just randomly faints while swimming sometimes? I feel like they didn’t solidly explain it? Cuz I don’t think it was always from overworking himself. Idk maybe I’m just a dumbass and remembering incorrectly.

Kisumi deserved better. YOU CAN’T TELL ME THIS BOY DOESN’T HAVE UNDERLYING ANGST THAT KYOANI HASN’T DELVED INTO. He gave us that line of “We’ll never make friends like the ones we had back then” and then him worrying about whether or not there was anything he could do to help with the Ikuya situation. This boy feels left out and you can’t tell me otherwise and it is 100% because of the fact that he’s not a swimmer. Someone give this boy a basketball team that he can experience that kind of bond with PLEASE. I AM BEGGING ON MY KNEES!!!

Makoto also deserved better. Like, okay, don’t get me wrong, I absolutely loved his arc with the kids and Nao and all that. I love his new dream. BUT!!! Kyoani has yet to go into depth with his insecurities with Haru. I’m still not over that damn dream he had on that bus. All we got in season 3 was Makoto’s aNGSTY looks when it came to his relationship with Haru lmao. GIVE MAKOTO A BIGGER ROLE AND A BIGGER ARC DAMMIT. He’s one of the most popular characters I’m surprised his angst hasn’t been touched on more. This dumbass just needs to stop holding things in i SWEAR TO GAWD.

I thought the inclusion of Albert was kinda weird, dunno what the point of him is aside from making Haru shake in his bones. Kinjou is definitely interesting. He scares me lmao, but I am here for that. Give us an antagonist who is just absolutely unhinged at this point LMAO. I have some headcanons about him too but I feel like the new movie coming up is going to crush my dreams soooo yeah.

Isuzu is a goddess. I’m so happy she’s finally here and she has a name and a FACE. We learned that the Mikoshiba bros had a sister before we even knew that Momo existed lmao (Sei mentioned her in a drama cd from season 1). I almost thought they were never going to give her to us but she’s here and she’s beautiful and she’s everything that I wanted her to be. I’m so happy she thinks Gou is cute and that GOU LIKES HER and I just ugh yes thank you so much Kyoani I never expected that we’d actually get this but I’m so happy we have it. I hope she goes to Hidaka Uni and gets to race Haru like she wanted haha. And I’m so happy we got to see her swim! Our first in-anime female swimmer with a name. I love her.

Speaking of FEMALE SWIMMERS. Sighhhhhh.... My biggest disappointment. Aki Yazaki. Where is she? We deserve her!! I promise we do!! She was SUCH an important character in the High Speed! novels and kyoani decided that she just doesn’t exist anymore lmao (biggest reason why I’m not the biggest fan of the Starting Days movie). At this point I’ve lost hope that she’ll ever be included in the anime, and it makes me so sad. I love her so much and there’s so much potential for an amazing beautiful story arc with her if she reunited with the boys. I don’t think we’re going to get a season 4, (the new movie is scaring me making me think it’s the end of the series with the way it’s been advertised...) but if we DID get one I imagine it beginning with Haru walking through a snowy day, huddling close to himself to shelter from the cold, when he passes by a tall figure and catches a glimpse of familiar caramel hair with a loose little braid peeking out from behind one ear and a large scarf that has gotten quite messed up over years of wear and tear, a memory clicks in his mind like a light switch and he stops in his tracks to turn around and let a long forgotten name slip from his lips: “Yazaki Aki?” ... cue opening sequence. LIKE WOULDN’T THAT BE SO AMAZING???????? I WOULD FUCKING SHIT MYSELF OKAY YOU DON’T UNDERSTANDDDD. Aki is one of my favorite characters I’m so mad she wasn’t in season 3. I’m also mad that Satomi Nii wasn’t there either like!!! She would make a great trio with Ikuya and Hiyori that’s all I’m sayinggggg. I would probably start crying if either of them showed up at some point like genuinely I would just be a mess sobbing on the floor. ALSO I FEEL LIKE GOU AND ISUZU WOULD ABSOLUTELY LOVE THEM LIKE PLS GIVE ME THE GIRLS THAT WE DESERVE!!!

The art style of season 3 was pretty good. The only thing that bothered me about it was how fucking WIDE the characters’ shoulders were sometimes. Especially with the big bois like Makoto and Sousuke. Like please god no stop that. I’m always gonna miss the art style from season 1 tho, the crazy expressions n shit that were there were just too GOOD lmao. I feel like in season 3 they kind of attempted to bring that back but it just wasn’t executed the same and done to the same extent. R.I.P. the comedy from season 1, it will be forever missed.

I love the opening and ending themes, always. So fucking good. I’m so happy all the characters were included in the end theme animation sequence. I’ll never get over Gou and her BEAUTY.

ANYWAYS. Those are my thoughts in the general sense. Idk if I forgot anything because I have so many thoughts that’re all unorganized haha. If anyone wants me to talk in more detail about anything specific I am soooooo down! Thank you for sending in this ask, talking about this show makes me happy hehe.

#asks #haowls #dttf #dive to the future #season 3

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roses-ruby · 6 years ago

Text

Cherry Muffins and Lavender Tea

Namjoon x Female Reader

Genre: College AU, Sugary Fluff, Humor if you squint, Smut but it’s ugly, and the teeny tiniest angst

Warnings: curse words, sex, orgasms, oral (female receiving), choking kink, daddy kink, hot biker Namjoon, sex with clothes on, might make you hungry (i’m not sure about everything that’s considered a warning sorry! If there’s something you want me to add, tell me)

Word Count: 8,196

Summary: You’ve got feelings for my man Namjoon, the scary looking dork that drops by where you work. But how will you relay them?

A/N: My first story! Omfgsfkhbifb I’m nervous so please leave a kind word, I’ll love you forever. Might have mistakes cause i’m an idiot. None of this would have been possible without the great @countrysundae she’s my darling and inspiration and I love her sooooo much and you should too!!! Please appreciate her Pisces ass, and send her some love! Oof anyway, please enjoy

10:30

Originally set for 8, 10 fucking 30 is when the bells of your alarm informed you to awake for maybe the 99th time that morning. Groaning in displeasure you move your stiffened muscles to shut the damn thing off. This is a process that’s become a routine; waking up way later than originally planned, no matter how many timers set, or reminders kept. Even though you admit you are sleep deprived constantly, it doesn’t make you a heavy sleeper habitually! You wake up to the tiniest noises at night, from your roommate trying to sneak back into the shared room in ungodly hours of the night to the leaking tap in the bathtub. And yet your phone’s alarm is your placebo-it does absolutely nothing for you.

Though you do try. You keep about 5 alarms on at once, to your roommate’s expense who somehow is both a night owl and early bird all at once. Speaking of which-

“So, the witch finally sees daylight,” snickers Sana

“what the fuc--how long were you there?!” You rasped, grabbing at your erratic heart

“Just got in 5 minutes ago, that was my first alarm and trust me when I say I would’ve strangled you if I heard another.”

It’s true, she’s done it before. Your poor roommate was an occasional victim of your ruthless sleeping habits. You’d sometimes slip into conscious from slumber to hear her whine about your blaring alarms in her own sleeping state. Other times you’d wake up from a pillow landing on your face from a girl who’s had Enough.™ But you didn’t feel too bad for her, since you’ve given her the option of waking you up herself and she’s proven frivolous far too many times for such a simple task. Lowkey? She deserves it.

“Ooh another fun night, huh?” You grin in your sleepy state

Sana giggles “Mhmm, think Mark’s in love with me the poor chap,” she mocks his English accent making you both laugh at yet another fuckboi who’s become a victim to Sana’s lethal looks. Giving her a glance over, from her messy hair and smeared lipstick you conclude she indeed had a very fun night.

Sana came from a well-off background and had it all. Good-looks, smarts, the money, and a very good heart. She didn’t have to go to university, but her mom was not having it. The whole ‘be grateful for the opportunity people suffer to receive’ speech led her here. A parent’s guilt tripping wasn’t something you were unfamiliar with. You considered yourself an average person. Kinda cute, smart, headstrong and half of a pretty good character…Your parents on the other hand, were really wimpy.

“We always thought you’d go to the neighborhood community college”, your dad remarked in horror holding the prestige upper state university’s acceptance letter that arrived recently.

Your dad, who thinks jaded denim vests are cool.

“You’re too young to be living on your own, you’re still a bird who can’t use her wings correctly, not ready to leave the nest!” Said your distressed mom, who’s solution to all bad food was to put more cheese on it.

Don’t like your chicken curry? Pass on the parmesan sprinkler!

You hear the bang of hands on the table and a chair screeches, “let her go, she’ll come back with her tail between her legs”, your little brother who plays fortnite all day and is going through his ‘I hate feelings but secretly cry every night’ faze shouts before storming off towards his room.

All you do is sigh and roll your eyes, picking at your over-parmesaned chicken curry with your naan as your parents continue to nag, cause after this whole fiasco your mind was certainly convinced.

You’re going to the university.

Now that you are here, nothing was easy even for someone as headstrong as you. You were smart enough for a scholarship, but living expenses were something else entirely. Which led you to seek employment at a small café, a few miles from your university. It wasn’t the most bustling of places as it drew in a handful of consumers a day, even your fellow students chose the McDonalds right across the street. Everyone enjoyed the quick coffee and frozen fries, rather than your place’s slightly pricier fresh brews and handmade savory biscuits. Alas, you considerably appreciated the quiet composure your café provided. From the dim soft white lighting, to the 60’s slow jazz-which you routinely exchanged with a Studio Ghibli playlist from YouTube discreetly, blended well together. Gave you time to catchup on your schoolwork. Your boss was a chill 42-year-old who won the lottery a few years back, and let you clock in any time before 12, even if your morning shift began from 9. Maybe it had something to do with how the last waitress quit to work at McDonalds.

And he was always there.

Kim Namjoon. The quiet stud that had captivated your heart without even trying. Also, the fucking reason you wanted to get up earlier in the mornings damn it!

Namjoon was a psychology major who was always reading a new book. Mostly from his favorite author Haruki Murakami. And he always stopped by at the place you worked to indulged them. Parking his Harley-Davidson Softail outside and softly walking in with his old school leather jacket and gloves, ripped jeans, a book in his hand, his huge hard…helmet forgotten on the bike’s handle. He’d gently relay his familiar order of cherry muffins and lavender tea, raking his hair back with those beautiful black gloves, and striding to his usual seat in the back of the café.

He’d grace your presence 3 times a week, usually at 9:30 before his 10 am classes; another early bitch bird. All you wanted to do since then was to be able to take his order.

You had met Namjoon at the beginning of your first semester last year. But he hadn’t harbored much of your attention until that fateful day. Chilly winds and frequent rain were what you were adjusting to, as fall was in its peak with every other color on the leaves a vibrant orange, grabbing at your focus. Having arrived on time for once, you were engaged in your workspace. The co-owner and your co-worker of the small café, the boss’s niece, had taken a day’s leave, and you knew she’d beat your ass if you were late. Tray in hand, you served a bacon quiche and caffé americano to the table refuging a girl in an infinity scarf and glasses who didn’t bother to look up from her phone, when the door chimed open

It’s him again, you thought at the tall stranger you’ve seen around your campus in all black stepping towards the counter. He had small droplets of water on his leather jacket and hair from the rain. You didn’t realize you were staring until he awkwardly looked directly at you, standing with an empty round tray at the side of the table of the occupied girl, who you know is also taking a secret glance at him, and shyly smiles.

Cute.

You walk yourself behind the counter and smile, “hey there”

“Hi, um two cherr-“

“-y muffins and lavender tea, right?”

He nods

“Why don’t you just say the usual?” You laugh, wringing up his order in your old school register

“I didn’t think you’d remember me out of all the customers,” he states bashfully, dimples on display

“‘all the customers?’’ you laugh louder, “we get like 15 a day, I’m sure I’ll remember you”

“Oh, I thought I just came too early”

“You definitely do! I don’t have the energy to get up and comb my hair at 9 in the morning, much less bike to a café for cherry muffins”

“You like it?” he grins “it’s a Harley-Davidson, my dad owned one”

“It’s as pretty as you sweetie,” you don’t know where that confidence was coming from, because you’ve definitely haven’t talked to a boy like this before. Blame it on the chilly weather.

“oh, thank you,” he rakes his leather gloved hands through his hair, looking down at his shoes

Stepping towards your tea station, you grab open the bag of loose organic dried lavender buds, on the shelf above. Picking up a measuring spoon, you scoop and slide in some buds in the French press. You grab the boiling water on the electric stove, next to your station and slowly pour it onto the herbs. You close down the French Press and set a timer for 6 minutes.

Taking a breath, you look around the café. Namjoon stands there as towering as a tree, looking at his book, ‘Women who Run with the Wolves.’ Most people would go sit down if it wasn’t pickup, but he always stood right at the registrar. Strange. Unsurprisingly, you remember being intimidated as hell in the beginning. Usually people that come to the café are chill in the ‘harmless millennial hippie’ type of way, dressing themselves in mutable colors. But he looked like he would yell if you even slightly messed up his order or gave a ‘wrong look’ to his bike. You loosened up when his order was always so easy, and his book choices always so cute. You almost bust out laughing when he came in with ‘A fault in our stars;’ especially when he sat at his table with glossy eyes, trying to finish the last pages. His smile also melted all worries away.

Infinity scarf girl gets up to leave (but not before giving Namjoon a longing look), leaving you both alone in the balance of your heartbeats. There was slow piano from Kiki’s delivery service filling up your café’s background. The weather still faintly drizzling, the soft gray clouds seeping through the broad windows, making the café’s wooden brown hues a tad bit dimmer, yet the fairy lights radiant. Pedestrians with transparent umbrellas in beige coats and red hats pass by every so often, not a care in the world. Smells of fresh scones and cinnamon filled your nostrils, making you remember holiday nights at home. Though your thoughts often redirected themselves towards the handsome stranger and the harmony of the quiet fall day.

The timer dings and you get back on track, using the handle to press the floating buds down to the bottom of your French press. You head toward the counter’s display case. Below is a steel countertop with coffee/tea cups, silverware, small plates, trays and a set of tongs. You grab a cup and plate, fixing them properly you pour the tea. The steam drifts towards your face, an amazing aroma that complimented the purple complexion of your brew. Grabbing a set of tongs, you take out two large cherry muffins, placing them on a tray, along with the tea. You decide to grab a chocolate chip cookie as well from one of the clear cookie jars set on the wooden crown of the display case.

“Here ya go,” you place the tray in front of him. He places his book and gloves onto the tray and gets out his wallet from his beautifulbooty back pocket. After paying he picks up the tray and halts

“Cookie?” He holds up the chocolate chip cookie in his hand, a bit confused

“It’s on the house, they’re the best thing in the café, but I end up eating most of them, so might as well give ‘em out”

He smiles, “thank you, it looks delicious”

“No problem, anything for our loyal customers,” you both laugh, “it’s beautiful out today”

“Hm, not as much as you,” he states, walking away from you towards his usual seat. Now, he turned around very quickly after he said that, so you didn’t really get to see his face after such cheesy words, but the tips of his ears were red. Oh.

He’s cute cute.

Stunned, you stand there for a moment or two, just wide-eyed; staring at nothing, until you spin on your spot and head back into the tea vicinity of the café. You feel your heartrate rise and alarms go off in your head. But not the loud intrusive kind. The kind where a baker knows his three-layered chocolate fudge cake is ready. The ones where a mom takes freshly baked cinnamon rolls out in the morning. The ones when the apple pie is prepared to be sliced. Those kinds. Covering your extremely warm face with your hands, you muffle a squeal.

Since then, you’ve started paying close attention to Kim Namjoon.

You didn’t know what it was, his tall broad frame and long thick legs, which you wanted to be choked with. His large hands in those chunky leather gloves or when he took them off, to handle the pages of his book delicately; his long skinny fingers would graze over the soft wood, both things you wanted to be choked with. Or his keen eyes that would get larger or darker depending on what part of the book he was reading, and you imagined in which manner they would present themselves with while he’s choking y-Ok. Ok. Ok. You had a kink. Endeared was how you felt at his intimidating appearance.

You also adored how far away from intimidating he actually was. You were smitten with his gentle demeanor in dealing with people. His pacifist nature, and how much he loved tiny crabs, how he was so respectful towards everyone, younger or older, never judging anyone’s appearance or his love for characters that’re as large, and clumsy as him, like Ryan from that Kakaotalk app. And his laughed that carried large amounts of joy over cheesy, silly things ultimately making you laugh as well.

You were sure you loved Kim Namjoon, yet you barely spoke to him-

I mean who’s gonna disturb a huge scary-looking dork when he’s trying to read? Certainly not you. What you desired is a way to get close to him somehow, and for that you needed to know more about him. It wasn’t hard to pick up gossip though, when you were friends with the loudest chatter mouth on the planet.

You told Sana once about your silly crush and she shrieked so hard it sounded like a howl. The next day she had all the deets on who she referred to as ‘Hunkjoon.’ He had an IQ of 148, he hates seafood, he’s so clumsy that his friends refer to him as ‘the god of destruction,’ favorite color is black (no duh), he’s well-known, terribly smart, and to your dismay, associated with the exceedingly popular frat boys Jung Hoseok and Kim Seokjin.

Ugh

Jung Hoseok and Kim Seokjin, or who you so kindly referred to as the Seokbitches, were the schools James Dean. ‘Icon of teenage disillusionment.’ Hehe, perfect definition by google. They were notorious, for playing ghosts in their classes, throwing a party every.single.damn.day., never keeping their dick™ in their pants, and having the most obnoxious laughs on the earth…

Ok, so maybe only you knew them for that. To others they were the teenage love and rebellion dream, James Dean. They never attended classes, because they were fuckthesystem peeps, threw a party everyday so the poor souls stuck in an endless cycle of capitalist warfare aka their fellow students could enjoy the more fun things life has to offer, indulged in every part of youth-including the 24/7 horny part, and had the most beautiful laughs in the damn planet.

How were they Namjoon’s closest friends…How? Anyone with a functioning brain can tell the vast difference between the trinity. Namjoon attended all his classes (yet fate didn’t give you a class with him, the bitch), he actually read books, and he wasn’t hooking up with 2-3 girls every night, unlike certain people.

You heard from a classmate a while back that ‘bout two years ago Namjoon had a serious girlfriend. Since their breakup, he hasn’t been with anyone else. It’s good that he’s single but you’ve still only talked to him here and there. A few shy glances, a few awkward touches. Nothing more, but lord do you want more, alot more. What if a girl more daring gets him first? Do you really need angst in your life? NO! but you are still at a loss of what to do. You had one boyfriend so far, and it was one of your worst experiences.

The guy was a total creep. And the worst part? You asked him out. All your friends had relationships and he was someone who rode the bus with you, making you laugh here and there. So, being the usual teenager, you thought it’d be a good idea to date him, like a fool. Who knew he wasn’t just being charming, and making fun of people (trying to be edgy as you now know) was a hobby for him? You did. Right after you overheard him announce the fact that you look like a winged bat when you suck dick just to make his jerk-ass friends laugh. It was so humiliating, as you never did something of the sorts with him, yet his friends would stick out their teeth in a ‘vampire like manner’ whenever they passed you in the hallway, as well as your first heartbreak. You got him back by filling his locker with Limburger cheese, from your mom’s collection of cheeses. His gym clothes smelled for a month, and people called him cheeseboi for the rest of the year.

You shed your blind innocence that day and knew that men are trash. Namjoon isn’t like that though, and you’re surer of that than anything. He’s special for you and you want to be the special one for him. Sadly, you just didn’t know how to start a conversation with Namjoon, without looking like you jumped in boiling water. I mean you had hook-ups in college. Who doesn’t play around here and there? But fuck-this is definitely the first time you actually like someone. Like really like them, so you just clam up and don’t know what to do. That’s where you are today.

You bounce from your bed, heading towards the bathroom. “I’m late again,” you mumble.

Sana hears that (at this point she could have better hearing than dogs)

“Hunkjoon, huh?”

“That’s not his name Sasha”

“Listen, why do you even spend your time trying to get with him in that boring café?” Sana shouts, hopping off her bed she makes her way to the bathroom and throws her hands around you who’s brushing her teeth. “You should ask him out, maybe to a club. A little booty popping, ear sucking, mouth licking, and he’s yours”

“Please don’t ever use any of those words in that way ever again.”

“I’m serious!” Exasperated she throws her hands in the air before resting them on each of your shoulders together and squeezes you. “You just need a change of scenery, that place is no hook-up central for us modern kids. Just one party, and he’ll be all over you.” You tug her off your back and narrow your eyes-looking at her through the mirror; you continue to brush your teeth. She knows you want something far from a hookup with Namjoon, yet she-

“And then,” she smirks, “maybe your mouth would be full of his cum-not toothpaste”

You choke.

“Sana what the fuck,” you rage running after the laughing vixen with your toothbrush as a makeshift knife

“Don’t act like it’s not what you want!” She cackles as you tackle her onto the bed ready to stab her eyes out when your phone rings. Oh shit. You know exactly who that is. Picking it up, you run to the bathroom, spitting out your toothpaste

“H-h-hello?”

“Where. in. Jesus’s. name. are. you?!”

“O-oh, coming Linda, I’m in traffic” Sana proceeds to imitate a car beep sound at that-“and I’ll be there in 5 minutes!”

“If you aren’t, I’ll personally serve your head as our main dish this afternoon!” She screeches before hanging up

“Shit,” you catch your breath, “I gotta go,” scrambling around, you find something appropriate to wear in late April weather. You brush your hair in a hurry and throw on a high ponytail. Sana just watches you the whole time, staring at you up on her elbows from her bed looking deep in thought. Grabbing one of Sana’s car keys and your purse, you rush out the door with a quick bye to Sana. She doesn’t reply back but after you are out the door she flings back onto her bed, arms expanded.

“I’ll ask Hobi,” she says to herself

Parking in the small lot behind the café, you run inside the back door. You gather yourself, fixing your hair and your fast heartbeat, you wrap on an apron and head to the front.

Linda spots you right away.

“You’re late,” she grits

“Yeah, traffic sucks,” you grin awkwardly, praying she’ll believe you.

“Just get to work, the pound cakes are almost ready to take out,” she points toward the oven. You nod, heading into the vicinity of the oven in the back next to the stove.

“Hey Linda,” someone shouts making you turn, “the person at table 3 wants some sourdough starter”

Linda acknowledges, moving into the back storage where the starters where kept.

You spot a girl. A new girl. A very very pretty girl, with long light brown hair up to her waist, and a delicate body. She meets your eyes and smiles and you return the gesture before looking away like you didn’t momentarily become gay looking at her soft features.

It’s good to have her around, you conclude. Usually you worked the morning shift with Linda 3 times a week, taking afternoon classes during those days. (coincidently when Namjoon comes by) You know there’s a girl who works the afternoon shift, but you never really ran into her. And since you do come late 1 out of 3 times, Linda ends up doing most of the work herself, including making all the café’s delicacies. You’re so very thankful to Linda and her uncle for not firing you, and very glad that Linda has some actual help now.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when the oven timer dings and the door chimes open.

The new girl greets the customer cheerily while you concentrate on taking an enticing whiff of the vanilla pound cakes, about to pull open the oven’s door when you stop dead in your tracks. You’d recognize that deep voice anywhere.

Turning your head so fast, you feel your neck burn from whiplash you spot your Namjoon finishing his order to your co-worker. He meets your eyes for a moment, and god you’re sure you look like a fish.

“Would you like anything else? We have really good chocolate chip cookies,” pipes the newcomer

“I know, they’re delicious,” he catches your eyes again, “but no thank you, not this time”

“Aww, well I love them a bit too much. Even though I’m new I’ve had quite a few,” she starts ringing up his order

“I thought I haven’t seen you around here”

“Moved in recently and kinda have trouble unpacking…I need a stronger body ya’know”

“Is that so,” Namjoon quirks a brow and you feel like you’ll throw up. Why is Namjoon late? Catch 22 didn’t seem like his style of book? Why the fuck is she giggling so much? Who let her steal all your cookies? And why is his hair so much messier than usual? He looks so cute omg?... What’s that burning smell?

…Shit

You gawk at the oven in horror as Linda shouts your name from a mile away.

Sana’s scrolling through her phone on her tummy when you bonk her head with your purse

“Ow, what the fuck-”

“When’s the next frat fiasco? I need to relive some stress”

She smiles, “I knew you’d come around, and that’s why I went ahead and asked Hobi to bring Hunkjoon tonight.”

You beam at the mention, “Sana you angel!” Then immediately scowl, “Wait at a seokbitch party? Just fucking great”

“Don’t be so sour,” Sana sighs, sitting up, “Namjoon doesn’t go to many parties anyway so his best friend was the only solid way to bring him.”

Giving it a thought, you beam again, jumping on Sana

“Sana you angel!”

“Whatever’s up with your hair by the way, looks like you’ve been pulling on it.”

“Don’t ask…long day.”

Arriving at the party, you grimace at the smoke of marijuana blanketing you as soon as you enter.

“Alright, Hobi should be around here somewhere,” Sana looks around,” standing on the tippy toes of her heels, trying to look past the frisky bodies, but it’s of no use with the amount of people in the room.

The room was packed with tipsy children. There was barely any elbow space even though the frat house was huge as you and Sana squeezed through hot, sweaty dancing bodies. Some unbalanced drunkards clumsily pushing into you every now and then and you wondered how anyone came to these things. It’s hot, and everyone smelled of axe and sweat. Parties would be much better with just a modest group of people you know, or maybe that’s the small-town girl in you speaking.

No! You cringed internally. You must forget about your outdated methods and passive behavior. Tonight, you will become someone completely new. Someone who takes action.

“Oh there!” Sana shouts over the music, waving furiously to someone by the stairs

Soon after you hear the jubilant voice of Jung Hoseok as he comes into view to greet Sana with a hug, and after being temporarily blinded by his smile you give him a once over or call that twice, because fuck He looked good in a simple white tee, tight blue jeans, dark brown Timberlands and his hair pushed up with what seemed like some gel and messy fingers (think back to Gayo Daejejeon 2018 mic drop)

“This is the girl I was telling you about,” Sana points at you

Hoseok joins in on your shameless gawking and grins

Embodying you was a baby pink thin strapped mini dress, and when you say mini, you mean your black Chantelle Présage lace thong is showing mini, but you’re a woman on a mission, and you didn’t care if you were naked at this point. Your hair was thoroughly straightened, and you went for a glossy cherry makeup look, courtesy of Sana. You weren’t trying to look like a cherry muffin, buuuut you didn’t mind if that’s what people thought, specifically one person.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he extends his hand, eyes duskier than a moment ago

You should wear shades in front of him or you’re sure you’ll go blind.

You shake his hand and give him one of your most forced friendly smiles, trying not to make much conversation as you just wanted one thing. Though that shiver upon your spine at his grip tells you otherwise.

Hoseok motions for you both to follow him and you pick his trail

Sana elbows you

“We talked about this! You’re supposed to be acting like a lamb, ready to be jumped on at any time, not a fox,” she whispers at your obvious display of wanting nothing to do with the Hyena

“I’m being nice! I am! This is how I’m nice!”

Sana rolls her eyes, and you sulk. It’s not your fault she is a master seductress, and you just don’t know how to be kind to the guy who’s trying to undress you with his eyes when he knows you’re here for his friend. She told you two things about seducing men, act completely incompetent and laugh at all their lame jokes. The more you feed a guy’s concocted ego, the more you feed his desire for you. And well, a way to the man’s heart is through feeding him…or something right?

But all your thoughts disappear into nothing once you lay eyes upon the man you’ve been wanting for almost a year.

Kim Namjoon, holy fuck.

Never has a loose black tee and oversized maroon velvet bomber’s jacket looked that good on anyone before. He commands your undivided attention with that low-neck line and gelled up hair. Healthy, glowing skin spread out like a canvas. His jeans ripped in all the beautiful places around the man’s thick, strong thighs, and black derby’s? Classic, yet defiant as always. He was fucking beautiful and you were awestruck. Hoseok says something to the group of 3 guys standing by the back sofa, including Namjoon, most likely about you, but you don’t hear anything once Namjoon locks eyes with you. There’s evident surprise in his eyes, which dims into concentration at the dress you’re wearing.

“So Namjoon,” Hoseok interrupts your thoughts, “I heard you both’ve met before?”

Namjoon doesn’t break away from you for a moment, smiling slightly “we’ve met, it’s nice to see you here”

He was being strangely vague. “You too,” you mutter

You could physically feel Sana scoff at the virginity act.

“Alright, I can use a drink-Ali, Jason, Sana let’s go get them”, Hoseok works fast to evade the intrusive attention on the both of you

“Why do you need 3 people to help you with drinks”, says a confused Jason

Flustered at the man’s impaired ability to read between the lines Hoseok scrambles for another excuse, “um…uh, I don’t know what you want? And uh there’s a lot of people, so uh”

Jason stubborn as ever quirks, “well I can just tell you what I wan-”

“JASON! ALI!” Sana shouts and everyone, aside from Namjoon, who won’t turn away from you, glances at her, “be a darling and pour my drink for me,” she uses her sultry voice, throws a sly smile, and they all get led away by her, even Hoseok, looking hypnotized

Watching them walk away you let out a sigh. This is it. This is your moment. You really should’ve had a shot before this. Drunk you wouldn’t clam up and clench her buttocks that sober you is doing for some reason. Clearing your throat, you start blurting out the first forms of conversation that settles in your mind.

“Nice to see you here, finally away from the café-not that I don’t like seeing you there…I mean I do, but this is nice too hehe”

You mentally slap yourself for the worst beginning. When have you ever been this quiet? Sana couldn’t get you or your alarm to shut up most of the time and this is the moment you choose to get awkward? Maybe this is it. He’ll just walk away now and you can wallow in self-pity.

“It’s great to see you too, out of that café…not that I don’t like it as well” he smiles

Your whole form relaxes, and you feel the knot of pressure in your back coming undone. You know you’re overthinking, know that your mind is self-sabotaging you, so it can get out of this hellhole back into its safe space between your bedsheets. So, you take a breath and focus on his eyes, trying to bring back the confidence of an 80’s café waitress. “You got yelled at pretty hard this morning, were you ok?” He asks

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I kinda deserved it and Linda’s the biggest sweetheart, she would never actually hurt me.” Minus where she almost tore your hair out in the backroom

“…speaking of which, why were you late this morning?” You slapped yourself again

He gave you a look. Shit. “You track me?” he grins

“No-no, nonono…n-yes. I track all my customers”, you smile awkwardly, “they keep me on my toes ya’ know the little bastards” If only you could forever tape your mouth

It was a bad joke but he lets out a chuckle where his eyes turn into little crescents and his dimples poke through his skin

“Well, I missed my alarm this morning, so I was too late to arrive on time…but I still wanted to come…”

“…Why?”

“I just,” he stares at you, “did”

“I see. It’s our tea isn’t it.”

Both of you share a laugh

“You look beautiful by the way”

“This little thing?” you twirl your hips, “just found this in the back of my closet”

The brag was true because you never fucking dressed up for anything, yet always shop like you do.

When you look at him again, you see his eyes dark at the move you just did, which you’re sure exposed your ass

Gathering courage, you start walking toward and up the stairs not giving Namjoon another glance. You could feel his bewilderment through your exposed back, as he follows you like a lost puppy. You hide a smile. Heading into an open room, you find its balcony. Outside, the spring wind picks up your hair and you take in a deep breath, letting go of all your nerves that tense up once you feel the balcony door open and close and the presence of another person in the little island.

“Are you alright?” You feel his breath on you, and you barricade a shudder

“I’m fine…I just couldn’t breathe in there with all the weed,” you turn and smile at him.

“I hate it too,” He smiles back

There’s a moment before you both break eye contact and he’s stepping up beside you

Looking out from the balcony, you pander in the serenity of the dark night and silent winds. The music is still mutely conscious in both your eardrums, as well as the laughter of kids who came here to forget tomorrow. There’s always a calmness you feel with him, no matter the weather or locality. The tips of your arms are touching and the barring heat your entire left side simmers in provides you with the translation of your need to be closer with him.

“I’m sorry I’m not good at small talk”

You turn your face to him as he takes a breath before speaking again

“I’m very awkward, sorry about that”

“You aren’t the one who’s awkward, you raise a brow, I’ve been making bad jokes all night. And well, who’s good at things like small talk?”

He smiles at you, “Your jokes aren’t bad,” he says bringing his face closer to yours, “and I love hearing you talk”

“Thank you” There’s another silence before you ask, “started a new book recently?’

“I did!” He quirks, “‘Yellow Wallpaper’ by Charlotte Perkins Gilman, it’s disturbing yet addictive. Like an Edgar Allen type you know. The increasing dread creates a form of suspense, which feels like a drug. Even though you can tell the ending won’t be good, you carry on led by a strange empathy as if you’ve become the character and it-“

Namjoon stops suddenly and stares at you smiling. “Um…sorry I got carried away, I’m probably boring you”

“Nuh-uh” you stop him immediately, “You aren’t boring at all. I love hearing you talk”

There’s a radiant blush on his cheek as red as your cherry lips, and you just want to devour him. “When I,” he begins looking away, “When I come to the café, you always seem so interested in what I’m reading. Most people don’t really care about that from me. They care that I ride bikes or about my popular friends. Not that I mind. I’m fine keeping them on a surface level. But,” He looks at you, “I want to know you better.”

“Me too” you blurt out very quickly

Your faces are so adjacent you can smell his soft mint toothpaste from his steady breathing. He’s staring at your glossy lips, your whole form is covered with his warmth, fluttering your senses leisurely

“Want a taste,” you whisper just for him to hear

“I bet it’s as delicious as it looks,” he lets out a heavy breath

“Well lucky you cause tonight I’m serving them specially for you”

You close the distance between your mouths and take in his plump lips. It wasn’t rushed, yet it wasn’t slow. It felt like the most perfect kind of kiss in the silent spring, the one that’s described in timeless romance novels. The one that you tell your children to look for, if they’re fortunate enough in their youth. That they’ll know it’s from the one.

He brings his hand upon your cheek and rubs it tenderly with his thumb. You both move back and stare in each other’s eyes.

“Well…was it delicious?”

“Better than cherry muffins,” he licks his lips to taste your cherry gloss on them

You crinkle your eyes to cringe and giggle

“You’re so cute,” he says and he’s kissing you again

This time he slips his tongue in your mouth and you hum in content, grabbing at the back of his blonde hair. Your tongues dance wildly, and Namjoon reaches for every nook and cranny of your wet cavern. Immoral sounds are escaping you both as your closed eyes burn in delight. Putting your legs on each side of his torso, he hurriedly picks you up from under your thighs and easily carries you inside the room, towards the bed.

You both break off as soon as he lands your bodies on the spring. His body still contains the heat from your thighs, and he’s pressed so close to you, you can feel your nipples against his rock-hard chest as well as the tent in his jeans. Breathing heavily, you stare in his starry eyes, filled with so much lust it feels like they’re dripping.

With a shaky breath you try to melt his lips onto yours again, just for him to shift back.

“Do you want this?” He asks, determined to move off if you refuse him

That would be a sin. “Yes.” You speak clearly, “I always wanted you, since I first saw you, Namjoon.”

“Fuck,” he whispers, before he’s on you again like the kindest, warmest deity he is.

He’s back into exploring your mouth as your hands find their home roaming his broad back. As he moves his hips up and down your wet entrance, a heat shoots up through your spine. His hands are kneading your ass, and everything is moving in slow motion for what feels like forever. Breaking off your mouth, he moves his kisses along your neck down to your cleavage, sucking hickeys on sensitive areas you moaned around. Growling at the invasive flimsy fabric surrounding your chest, he begins to tear it apart. His hands pulled down your transparent bra. You gasp at the intrusion of air surrounding your upper body.

“Mmm, fuck yes baby,” you could feel yourself soaking his cloth covered crotch as you fuck yourself upon his restricted dick.

Namjoon smirks reaching towards your back to take off your bra, letting his warm fingers tickle your skin as you lift your back to help him remove it and discard it to the side. Namjoon takes you in, caressing your face and you feel like he’s going to compliment you before he’s spitting words in your ear

“You little slut, you came here just to be fucked didn’t you”

Flustered you splutter, “Yes, ah please”

“That’s yes daddy for you baby,” he uses his large fingers to take hair off your face and removes his jacket and shirt

“Yes daddy, please,” you eye his tan muscles and broad chest. He noses your jaw and takes his mouth around your areola. You immediately run a hand through his golden locks, your mouth hangs open as he flicks your nipple with his tongue. Around his arms was sunken skin, in the form of muscles and you run your hands through every cervix.

Your breathing is labored

He moves back, moving your thong slightly to the right as he dips two fingers into you,

“Drenched and shameless muffin,” he mutters scissoring your entrance slightly, staring at you darkly

You are sprawled out for him like an unwrapped muffin. One leg hangs off the bed, while the other is desperately wrapped around his torso as if you’re scared he’ll leave. Your breasts are exposed and wet with saliva, and you’ve just handed him your cunt for the taking. You’re high off his soft sandalwood scent, as he takes your chest in his large hand, rolling your nipple in his thumb and index finger, pulling it slightly. His fingers are wet from your juices and you’re embarrassed you’re this wet. Vulnerable, you shut your eyes and look away before he grabs your cheeks with his hand and brings your face back towards him, hitting a certain spot that has you arching your back and knitting your brows.

“Don’t close your eyes baby girl, I need your focus completely on me”

“Then no more teasing,” you pout

Namjoon chuckles as he brings his fingers dripping with your silk into his mouth; looking straight into your soul he licks around his fingers in the lewdest way possible. “Sweeter than cherries” he mutters, slowly unraveling your wrapped leg and caresses the inside of your wet thigh, never letting go as if reassuring you that he’s right here. Languidly, he noses down your navel and further below until he’s lined with your aching core

“Daddy” you whimper

Giving you kitten licks around your folds, he licks a long strip before placing his tongue slightly inside your walls and suckles your juices. Your legs were on each side of his head, and you pulled at his hair out of frustration. The higher your voice went, the more he licked, bringing his tongue around your bundle of nerves and gently rolling the nub around. His hands traveled from your thighs to your waist, and slowly towards your breasts and kneaded. He flattened his tongue against your folds again, to take a finer taste of you, as he hummed knowing you were close. He took his right hand off your chest and used it to slide two fingers into your inner depths.

His mouth then went back to your clit, slowly rolling it around his tongue in a circular motion as his fingers drilled into you faster and faster. You let out a string of curses as your thighs began to shake, and the knot in your stomach becoming undone. You came with a yelp as your eyes began to see stars and vision whitened.

All your sudden adrenaline left you and your limbs limped onto the bed, fingers no longer in Namjoon’s hair. Letting out heavy breaths you saw Namjoon slowly coming out of your legs to face you. His thick lips were wet with your juices, and he licked through them and smiled.

“You’re so beautiful baby girl,” he said before kissing you again. Your tongues danced through your exhaustion, and you moved your hand towards his hard on. You felt him hiss into your mouth as you slowly rubbed him through his jeans. Backing off his mouth you smiled, it’s your turn daddy, and undid his zipper. You felt his hard dick in your hand, blessed in length. Spreading precum around his shaft, you watched him twist his expression. He reached into his back pocket and took out a condom, tearing off the wrapper with his teeth and handing it to you.

You gave him a smile as you rolled the condom onto his length and lined it with your entrance-giving him a hand job as he gradually moved into you. Once he was fully sheathed, he took a moment, before pulling out a slamming into you again

You let out a gasp at his pace, still a bit sensitive from your last orgasm. He was relentless and pounded into you over and over again, as the whole bed shook at his force.

“F-fuck dadd-y ooh” you cried as the same knot appeared inside your stomach. You grabbed his hand on the side of your head and brought it up to your face to give it a kiss. Light headed from the force of his thrusts, you could still feel him looking at you as you brought his hand upon your neck and laid it out flat

He cursed at your submission, and lightly put pressure on your neck “You’re such a good girl, daddy’s good girl, good girl fuck,” his paced faltered and you could feel your orgasm approaching with the pressure around your neck. With his other hand he stimulated your clitoris and that’s all it took to have you cuming once again.

Your mind travels back to how much you’ve wanted this-wanted him. His strong arms are no longer hidden under his bulky jacket, his fingers no longer clean with traces of paper fiber, but with your juices. How the hands you’ve wanted for so long around your neck, the eyes you waited to be filled with just you, the moans you suffered to hear from his luscious lips. It’s all happening. It’s all yours and no amount of overthinking will take this away.

With a few more thrusts he reached his own peak with a grunt, flopping down on you shortly afterward. You could feel his heavy, hot breathing on your neck and you wrapped your hands around him. You take a few more huffs before talking to him.

“I really like you” you whisper

“So I’ve heard,” he chuckles moving off you, he picks you up to move you upright in the bed with your head on the pillow and your arms still around him. He lays down next to you. “I’m not going anywhere baby. I really like you too. You didn’t really think I came for the tea did you”

Your heart soars and you meet his dimpled smile, He looks so youthful with his after sex glow, “Hey I make that tea with a lot of love and care!”

“Right, I’m sorry,” he laughs

“I didn’t know you liked me, your head is always in your books”

“Well originally, I came to chill and read. Until I found the cutest waitress that makes amazing tea-“

“-Shut up,” you jab him with a giggle

“-and I didn’t want to seem creepy, so I just payed attention to my books. But I did try to talk to you. I would stand as still as a tree next to the registrar trying to think of something to say. You tended to look intimidated of me, so I always froze up and just sat down. I asked my friends how to talk to you, and they kept giving me strange advice. I don’t think they know how to get a girl without sexual innuendos. They didn’t know how you looked, just knew you as café girl. If Hoseok found out you were café girl tonight, he’d probably try and do something stupid”

You took in the information he gave you and put the puzzle pieces together. You both were huge overthinking dorks. “I was only intimidated in the beginning,” you begin, “even if I was I still found you hot and probably would’ve jumped on your dick had you asked”

He suppresses some coughs while turning red

Smirking you lead him on, “Oh, so you’re shy now but wanted me to call you daddy just a few minutes ago”

“T-that’s” he begins, and you laugh out loud thinking this is definitely your Namjoon

“What about your choking kink? That was cute and unexpected” he gives you a sly grin

“Wait, shut u-that’s not…it’s your fault with those leather gloves, and leather jackets”

You poke his dimple out of mock anger and he tickles you. The rest of the time is spent by talking out your feelings, your dreams, favorite books, and desserts until you both fall asleep in each other’s arms.

You wake up by what you believe is your alarm. Opening your groggy eyes, you look up towards the ceiling of a room that wasn’t yours. After a minute more in conscious you realize it’s not your alarm ringing, but a pounding residing from the closed door of the stranger’s room.

“Can you guys please give me my room back now,” shouts a frustrated Hoseok

That’s when you remember the nights events and look at a sleepy Namjoon next to you. After checking the time of 7:41 shining through the digital clock on the nightstand next to what you now know as Hoseok’s bed, you smile and cuddle up to the warm body.

“Go away Hoseok,” Namjoon groans, “My baby’s trying to sleep.”

Both of you ignore Hoseok’s whines of protest as you whisper to Namjoon

“It’s fine, I’m glad he’s here so I can get to work on time for once. My alarm never wakes me up”

“Babe don’t worry, from now on I’ll be your personal alarm. As long as you can be my cherry muffin”

“I’ll do you one better and make one for you at the café”

“Those cherry muffins taste good,” he looks at you, “but you taste better,” and winks

You giggle until you hear the disturbed voice of Jung Hoseok behind the door,

“You guys are disgusting and have no idea how to whisper”

...

“GET OUT OF MY ROOM”

#Bts #Namjoon #Bts fanfiction #Bts fluff #Bts smut #Namjoon fluff #Namjoon smut #RM #Kim Namjoon #R:CMLT

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