#i actually kind of want to write a tutor!reader fic because of this
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itwasntimethatdidit40 · 3 days ago
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Merry Christmas, baby.
Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!reader Rating: just a little tiny bit of smut so still +18 but it’s mostly a huge pile of angst and fluff soooo Words Count: 10669 😵‍💫 Tags: POV second person, reader wears dresses, skirts, blouses and heels, she uses make up, she’s a journalist and a writer, no physical description of her is given besides having hair, angst, fluff, friends to lovers, slow burn, loss of a parent, infidelity, divorce, mention of food, alcohol consumption, both reader and Pike are bad at feelings, swearing, slurs, dirty talk, quarrels, reconciliations, funeral, sharing a bed, kissing, sad thoughts, casual encounters, mention of coffee, mention of spring break activities, geography probably a bit random (but I looked at the maps, don't jump down my throat, I did research and I've actually been to Boston many years ago, I tried my best lol), brief mention of Teresa. I hope I haven't forgotten anything, if so I'll add it immediately. A/N: Written for @pedrostories Secret Santa event, hello @letsgobarbs, I’m your Secret Santa! 🤶 Happy Christmas Eve, I hope you'll have a wonderful holiday season! 🎄 I hope you enjoy this story and I hope you find the angst, yearning and pining you wanted. Among the characters you had indicated as favorites there was Pike and I liked the idea of ​​trying to write him for the first time, he is so sweet and cute and he deserves to be happy, I hope I gave him an ending worthy of him 🥹 I apologize if you find any mistakes, English is not my first language and I don't have a beta so I did it all with just one pair of stupid and tired eyes 😵‍💫
A huge thanks goes to all the lovely people who supported me through the process while I was having a full crisis about everything in this fic 😂 @baronessvonglitter @almostempty @arcanefox207 @joelmillerisapunk I love you all, happy holidays 🥰
1990
“So what do you think?” 
“Um...you're good” You've just heard the ugliest Take on Me cover ever, but you can't tell the guy standing in front of you and looking at you with hopeful eyes. 
Marcus is your best friend, you've known him for a couple of years, since both of you were two dorky freshmen at your new school. You were looking for the literature room and wandering lost in the hallways when Marcus asked if you needed help. You bonded right away because you didn't know anyone else, you had just moved to Sacramento because of your father's job and he was from Texas, so it had seemed natural to lean on each other.
Over time you had become such good friends that he had met your parents, he would often stay for dinner, and your dad would let him use your garage to rehearse with his band. 
Marcus had put up flyers at school and enlisted two other boys, Timmy and Dave, who became the guitarist and keyboardist of Rocket Baby Doll. The name of the band was terrible, they were terrible, but you had never had the courage to tear them down in the face of Marcus's enthusiasm, he was sure that by continuing to rehearse they would make great progress. 
With his smooth talk, Marcus had managed to convince the committee to let them play at the freshmen's Christmas dance.
“You'll see that one day we'll be on the cover of Rolling Stone,” Marcus joked. Or at least you hoped he was joking because otherwise you wouldn't know how to talk him out of it. 
Marcus was a dreamer and he liked to do it big. He wanted to be a musician, or maybe an FBI agent, he told you. Two careers that had nothing to do with each other, but you knew that if anyone could afford to have ambitions it was him. Marcus was tenacious, persistent, dedicated, and never afraid to work hard to get what he wanted.  He certainly wasn't going to end up on the cover of Rolling Stone, but in your heart you were certain he was going to accomplish something important.
He was the kind of boy mothers liked, in fact yours loved him. When you needed math tutoring, he would come to your house totally for free and explain whatever you didn’t understand.
When Molly Preston wanted to exclude you from the winter dance because her ex-boyfriend, Ryder, had asked you out, he had been the one to give her a speech.
When you had a bad day Marcus would take you to get your favorite ice cream, you would talk for hours, and in the end he was the only one who could cheer you up.
Whatever problems you had, Marcus was there for you landing an helping hand. 
You knew your mother not too secretly hoped you would get together but it never happened, Marcus was your friend, just a great friend.
“Come on, my mom made cookies for everyone,” you told him as he continued to fantasize about what you might do. You would be their manager and you would both become rich and famous. He just couldn't keep his feet on the ground, even though he was a very good student and even had better grades than you.
You were 17 years old, your whole lives ahead of you, and you hoped that you will remain friends for many years to come.
_____________________________________________
1993
“What do you mean there is only one room available! We had booked two!” 
Marcus had yelled at the front desk of a motel where you stopped for the night. 
The owner, a rather creepy guy with a long scar on his right cheek, slumps in his shoulders, heedless “If you want number 12 is free, otherwise you can take your asses somewhere else for all I care.”
Marcus was fuming. 
It was spring break, any hotel was totally booked, and the possibilities were already significantly reduced given your pockets. 
You didn't even want to come; you had just broken up with Derek, your college boyfriend, and were back at your parents' house with the intention of spending your vacation there healing your wounds. Vegetating on the couch, reading books, watching movies, just relaxing. That was what you wanted to do. But Marcus had insisted, “Erik, Alice, Kate and Robert are in San Diego, let's join them!” 
You had shaken your head and declined “No way, I've seen enough wild college parties and besides, I'm not really in the mood.” 
“Oh come on, you don't want to spend Spring Break crying over that jerk,” he had said, shrugging and looking at you with his big brown puppy-dog eyes. 
“Marcus, I really don't feel like it.” 
“Come on, please do it for me! You'll see we'll have fun, they're nice!” Surrounding yourself with drunk and stoned 20-year-olds was the least of your desires. 
But on the other hand you felt you couldn't say no to him, it had been months since you had seen each other, your relationships had been reduced to long letters and phone calls telling each other about each other's schools.
You had chosen different colleges, Marcus had been accepted at Berkeley in California and you were at Boston University. You had changed coast, climate, everything. You were content but adjusting the first months had not been easy, you felt homesick and you missed your best friend. You were happy for him, you had known since your senior year that you were going to separate but that hadn't made it easy for you. 
You had only seen each other in person at Thanksgiving.
He had been forced to go to his relatives in Nevada for Christmas.
So you got dragged down to San Diego, because deep down Marcus was right, brooding all vacation about the relationship with Derek would not be good for you. You had had other guys before him but Derek had been special, until you found out he was cheating on you. You cried for hours on the phone with Marcus and he listened to you the whole time so maybe you owed him a little too.
After insisting on getting at least a room refund, Marcus had turned to you displeased “apparently we have no other choice.” 
“We'll adjust” you had smiled, but you couldn't deny that you were a little nervous. 
Once in the room he, too, seemed self-conscious. 
There was a double bed with a hideous floral bedspread in the middle of the room, brownish carpeting on the floor, dingy pictures hanging on the walls, and an old dresser on the opposite side of the bed with a rickety TV on it.
A smell of cheap deodorant with a musty undertone wafted around. It was the worst room you had ever set foot in, but at this point there was nothing you could do but make it okay. Sleeping in the car didn't seem so appealing.
You had set your bags down and looked at each other awkwardly “This room is awful,” Marcus had whispered, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand “I'm sorry, it didn't look that bad from the brochure.” 
“It's not your fault, I bet those pictures were taken at least 20 years ago” you had laughed ”it will do for one night” 
You had retrieved your pajamas from the suitcase and went to the bathroom. The light blue tiles made it look like a hospital, there was an old plastic curtain in the shower and the sink looked like it had been through a war but at least it looked clean. There was a strong smell of disinfectant that made you a little nauseous. You had changed quickly and returned to your room to Marcus who was sitting on the bed intent on calling his parents “Yes mom, everything is fine, we will be back tomorrow. Yes, sure, don't worry I'll definitely say hello to her, she's in her room now” You had noticed that he had not said anything about your misadventure, you had sat down smiling on the opposite side of the bed trying to be silent. 
Marcus had rolled his eyes closing the call “she is so old-fashioned.” 
You had laughed “I find her lovely” 
Marcus had chuckled “we'd better sleep, we have a lot of driving tomorrow. Are you okay with that side?”
“Yes, it’s fine” you had nodded ”however I'd rather get this bedspread out of the way, it gives me nightmares even when awake” 
Marcus had observed it agreeing that yes, it was rather eerie.
You had taken it off and laid it on the dresser before slipping under cold, scratchy and wrinkled sheets.
You looked at each other and burst out laughing, the situation was comical to say the least. “God, I think I won't forget this bed for a long time,” Marcus had said. 
“It feels like being in a burlap sack.” You had laughed.
“Could you not squirm like that?” 
“Sorry, I'm just looking for ways to be comfortable,” you had said, ”Mattress is lumpy.” 
You had laid on your side with your back to him and closed your eyes, trying to sleep. 
“So, did you have a good time?” you had heard Marcus whisper.
“Yes” you had replied “thank you” And it was true, his friends were really nice. You had bonded with the girls and exchanged addresses and phone numbers “you were right, I needed a vacation”
“I know, I'm always right” he had sentenced from the other end of the bed.  
You had turned to look at him "oh sure, like the other night when we ended up at that beach party and you said it was allowed and then we had to run away because the police were coming?”
“It was just a little misjudgment!” He retorted.
You had burst out laughing again “come on, sleep, Mr I know everything”
Marcus had turned off the lamp on the bedside table, next to the phone with which he had just called his mother “Hey...I need to tell you something” you had heard him say. 
“What?” the tone had suddenly changed and you felt confused, you looked over your shoulder at him in the dark. 
“I kissed Alice the other night” he seemed awkward in telling you and you didn't understand why.
“Oh. Well, good for you. She's a lovely girl” he was your friend, you were happy for him. 
If it weren't for the fact that you secretly hoped he would kiss you. You'd been thinking about it for a few days, ever since you'd seen him come out of the water while you were at the beach.
It had seemed to you that everything had started moving in slow motion, your eyes glued to his tanned skin, to his broad shoulders, to the way the water slid over his chest in little droplets that died on the waistband of his swimsuit. It was a feeling you had never experienced before in five years of knowing him. You had never seen Marcus as anything more than a friend, but in that moment, with his hair disheveled, his skin wet, a smile plastered on his face as he told you and the others that ocean was great, he had seemed like a vision, and you had felt your cheeks heat up. 
Where on earth that attraction came from you didn't know, but it had hit you hard and clear, like a bump on the head that had suddenly awakened you. You had convinced yourself that your brain was doing this to protect you from painful memories with Derek, lingering on your closest friend who had never let you down. Your trust in men was at its lowest, and Marcus had always reassured you, kept you out of trouble, and he was most reliable guy you had ever known.
He said he would do something and he always, unfailingly did it. You could not say the same about Derek or any other guy you had ever been with.
You had tried to chase that feeling away, burying it in the corner of your mind for all the following days; you didn't want to ruin the friendship between you, and you were pretty sure he didn't feel the same way about you.
Sure, you thought you kissed him on your 18s birthday while you were drunk, but the next morning you were so ashamed that you hadn't even told him about it, pretended you didn't remember anything and that it had never happened. Marcus had done the same, and everything had ended there. Two years had passed since that night, you had gone to college, you had both had more or less long relationships.
That one kiss was now so far away that you had listed it among “once-in-a-lifetime mistakes.”
"I wanted to tell you, that's it. Friends tell each other everything, right?"
“Yes, of course, you can tell me anything, I’m happy for you” you replied 
You had listened to Marcus talk about the girls he liked dozens of times and you had never cared, you would have certainly forgotten it, it was just a passing crush, you told yourself. That annoyance you felt, that bitter taste in your throat, would disappear after a night's sleep. Your friendship was more important, you wouldn't have ruined it just because your brain had thought it interesting to make it something more.
Yet when you had tried to sleep all you had seen was Marcus kissing Alice. You had not seen them, fortunately, but it was not a hard scene to imagine, and unfortunately it was now implanted in your brain. His strong arms holding her, his soft lips resting on hers, her surrounding his neck with her arms, her pelvis rubbing against his. Suddenly you couldn't stand it. You had narrowed your eyes, cursing your creative mind, grunting in frustration. 
“Hey, is everything okay?” had asked Marcus from the other side of the bed.
You had lied, of course, but you had kept brooding until you fell asleep exhausted by the workings of your brain.
In the morning you had woken up confused, not at all rested, and in his arms.
Your face was resting on his chest next to your hand. How had you ended up there like that? You didn't know. You felt like you didn't know anything anymore. 
He was blissfully asleep. He seemed unaware of anything as your throat was dry, your head ached, and your pussy throbbed. Yes, throbbing, desperately. The warmth of his body, the scent of his skin, that knowledge you felt inside that this was exactly what you wanted and you couldn't even quantify how long you had wanted it.
And the panic that had seized you immediately afterward. You were convinced it was a mistake, the most terrible mistake you could make. So why did it feel so right? Why did his body feel like it was made for you? Oh no, no you couldn't allow that. Certainly he had no idea whatsoever about the situation, there was no way he was aware and let you do it, it was all your fault. 
You were going to ruin everything, your friendship, your relationship with the one man who really seemed to understand and support you. And for what? To fuck him once? It wasn't going to work between you romantically. You were going to have to spend two more years away seeing each other only during the holidays to begin with, and then you were both stubborn, too proud...no, it was wrong, you didn't care what your body told you, you had to let your brain prevail.
You slowly slipped away, back to your side of the bed, practically holding your breath, cursing yourself and your heart that wouldn't stop hammering in the middle of your chest.
He had woken up shortly after, acted as usual, getting up, stretching in his T-shirt and basketball shorts, mumbled good morning to you and locked himself in the bathroom. 
Your eyes had slid lasciviously over his body, stealing glances of his exposed skin between his T-shirt and shorts, of his broad shoulders stretching the fabric, of his thighs...
All while you wanted to sink into a black hole and disappear forever. You sank your face into the pillow to keep yourself from screaming. 
And what was worse was that you had to carry the burden of what you felt alone because the person you would normally talk to about it was the one you were longing for. Wonderful, a wonderful situation. 
When he had come out of the bathroom, with his beautiful smile and that rough voice that he always had early in the morning you almost lost control. You were about to beg him to join you in bed. Ugh, your 20s, uncontrollable, stupid, senseless hormones.
“What are you waiting for? Come on, go get dressed, we have to leave,” he had told you, in the same friendly and vaguely mocking tone as always. 
“Oh. yes, thank you, I promise I will be quick.” You had stammered.
You got up, grabbed some random clothes from your suitcase, your beauty case and went to the bathroom to shower and change. He would be ready in 10 minutes at most so he would always let you go to the bathroom first, to give you time to do your makeup and fix your hair. Marcus knew that about you, too, and he was okay with that. 
You closed the door behind you, feeling the tears stinging your eyes. You had managed to hold them back until that moment, but in the shower, covered by his of the water, they had flowed copiously and salty down your cheeks. 
____________________________________________
2000
“Hey! How are you! My goodness, long time no see!” 
You had met him at the supermarket, as you were going around the shelves intent on shopping for your mother. 
You were back at your parents' house for Thanksgiving with your husband, John. 
The last person you thought you would see was him. 
“Marcus!” you had squeaked.
“I am fine! How are you? And Danielle?” 
Your mother had taken it upon herself to inform you that he had also married, had no children, and had become a detective. 
“Danielle is just fine, she is right there down the aisle picking potatoes according to my mother's exact instructions,” he had rolled his eyes, chuckling.
Damn, you had thought, he's breathtakingly handsome. 
You hoped that in all the years you had lost touch with each other he would have lost at least some of his hair like his father, but apparently he had not inherited that gene. His hair was thick and healthy as usual, he wore a gray T-shirt under a black leather jacket and a pair of dark blue jeans. You hated the way he could put on two random things and look so damn perfect while you felt like you had spent your whole life in front of your closet wondering what to wear. And even more you hated his smile, so friendly and sweet, that it hadn't changed at all. 
He seemed genuinely glad to see you. 
You had lost touch with each other after graduation, despite the advent of cell phones, computers, and email. Your friendship had survived handwritten letters, postcards, prepaid phone cards but still crumbled eventually. You were on the opposite coast, intent on your master's degree, dreaming of becoming a writer; he was hooked on a career in law enforcement. 
The letters had become fewer and fewer, as had the phone calls, and eventually what was there had simply slipped away as the months passed, the commitments increased, and each of you tried to become the adult you had dreamed of being.
You had thought it was much better this way, you had stifled your feelings for him for another four years before accepting that nothing would ever happen. You had dated other guys in the meantime, but Marcus had always remained in your mind as the perfect guy you could never have. It was only when you had met John that you had allowed yourself to think that maybe it could work with someone who was not your old friend. He was understanding, sweet, supportive, present and caring with you. John was a really good guy and so you had finally decided to marry him. He had asked you one spring day at the Public Garden, while you were eating a lobster sandwich under a tree in front of the pond, watching the swans. Your offices were close by, so you tried to spend your lunch break together as often as you could. You had gotten a job at the Boston Globe, were in charge of the wedding column, and wrote romance novels in your spare time, sending manuscripts left and right in the hope that some editor would notice them. John was a stockbroker, pragmatic, punctual and very thorough in his work as much as he was sweet and attentive with you. 
“How about we get married?” he simply had said to you, with his mouth full. You had laughed, thought he was joking, until you noticed his serious and hopeful look and exclaimed “oh my God, yes!” throwing your sandwich in the air and wrapping your arms around his neck. That was all you wished for. You had moved in together in a beautiful house downtown, not very big but lovely, you had fallen in love with it as soon as you saw it. It was bright and warm, the right place to start your life with John.
You had, of course, sent an invitation to Marcus as well, but he had declined, saying he was very busy with work. You had kind of tied it on your finger and so you had decided that he might as well get out of your life after all. Times change, people change, all I can do is move on and try to forget how I feel about him by devoting myself to my relationship with John, you thought.
Now that you had him in front of you again though, he looked the same as he always did, only grown. And your heart had skipped a beat the instant you recognized his voice greeting you.
“How long do you plan to stay?” you had asked out of pure courtesy. 
“About a week, we were able to take a few days to relax a bit. We're always working like crazy, you know, we both needed to get away for a while. How about you?” 
“Yes, us too, by the way if you remember Sunday is my father's birthday and my mother really wanted us to be there.” 
“I guess. By the way, I'm sorry. My mother told me when we arrived.” 
Your father had been ill for several months and unfortunately there was little left to do at that point. He was slowly fading away and it would probably be the last Thanksgiving you would spend together.
“I thank you. Oh here's John. John this is Marcus, an old friend of mine. Marcus, this is John, my husband.”
“Nice to meet you, Marcus,” John had said, shaking his hand. 
“Honey, I'm done, shall we go?” had chirped Danielle's voice as she approached you. 
“Yes love, but first let me introduce you to an old friend of mine and her husband” Marcus had told her softly. 
“Oh it's you! Marcus has told me several times about you! It's nice to finally meet you in person.”
Danielle was beautiful, dark hair, blue eyes and delicate features, a little nose that looked as if it had been drawn by an artist, full lips, high cheekbones and a well-proportioned chin. Her voice was melodious and sweet and she looked at you with an excited and surprised expression, " He didn't tell me you were so pretty!" 
“Oh, thank you, you are too,” you had said, slightly embarrassed by such kindness. At that point John had held you proudly, as if you were his greatest prize. His arm had wrapped around your waist, and his eyes looked at you lovingly "didn't she? I'm lucky that she married me." 
Danielle had laughed graciously and shook his hand introducing herself, while you and Marcus looked at each other almost studying each other, as if you were both trying to figure out how happy you actually were in your marriages.
That habit of worrying about each other had not gone away; after all, you had been close friends for quite a few years, and your friendship had faded not because of a quarrel, but because of distance and becoming busy adults. And because you had to get over the crush you had on him, of course, but you had never told him that. 
“Well, we have to go now, anyway come and see us if you can. My mother would love to see you again,” Marcus had said before offering to push the cart full of food that his wife had left beside you and start toward the checkouts. 
“We'll try, thank you,” you had nodded. You definitely should have helped your mother, tried to soothe her at least a little from the strain of caring for your father 24/7; you didn't know how much more time would be left for other things. 
You had watched them walk off together from behind, down the canned food aisle where you had retrieved the ready-made cranberry sauce you would never have time to prepare. 
They were a good-looking couple, really, attractive, well-dressed, Danielle looking impeccable in a pair of jeans that bandaged her while highlighting her curves, a red blouse that matched her complexion, and a pair of vertiginous heels on which you didn't even know how to walk. She seemed to do it without any problem. 
“We should go too, honey” John's voice had brought you back down to earth. 
_________________________________________
Once home John had announced to your mother that you had met your old friend at the supermarket, and of course she was thrilled, “Oh, he's such a nice guy, I saw him and his wife the other day walking downtown, they are such a nice couple, aren't they?” 
John had agreed, taking a beer from the fridge “really” 
“Well, like you, of course” your mother had added, looking at you softly. 
And it was true, you were fine with John, he was a good person, a hard worker, he treated you like a princess. What more could you want? 
Yet since you had seen him again, Marcus's face had made room in your mind. The intrigued way he had looked at you, as if trying to understand everything that had happened to you in the years you had not been in touch, the way his arms were reaching out to embrace you when John had arrived, a barely imperceptible movement that only you had noticed because you knew him better than the palm of your hand, the dimple that had popped up on his cheek as he smiled at you, the usual one you had grown to love so much.
You had pinched the bridge of your nose as you tried to drive it from your mind “Are you okay love?” had asked John immediately. 
“Yes, I just have a little headache, I'll get something later,” you had lied, hurrying to put away the rest of the groceries. 
What annoyed you the most was that it seemed like not a single day had passed since you were in your twenties and you had woken up hugging him in the bed of that dingy motel. It was absurd. You had worked so hard to move on and now it felt like you were back where you started. 
You couldn't let that happen, you wouldn't let your marriage be disrupted by a casual 10-minute meeting with him. 
You would not have gone to his house, no matter how much you would have liked to see his mother who had always been so kind to you. 
You had other things to think about anyway; your father was stuck in a hospital bed that you had managed to get him to be more comfortable. He had been put in the guest room on the ground floor, next to the bathroom, he couldn't do the stairs, and it was also easier for your mother to accompany him. The strong and generous man he had been was wearing out before your eyes, and it was a terribly painful image. You knew he had little time left, and you didn't want to waste it chasing the ghosts of the past when you had a husband who was helping you and hugging you every night trying to lessen your pain. 
Your Thanksgiving dinner had been unique to say the least, each of you shuttling from the dining room to your father's to spend some time with him, making sure he had everything he needed, helping him eat and drink. You had marveled at how gentle and patient John was with your dad, the big man you had married, one with two shoulders like a football player, feeding your father fruit jelly almost more gracefully than you. 
You knew how fond he was of your dad, they had hit it off right away, but you didn't know how much he was willing to sacrifice for him. You were moved.
___________________________________________
Your father was gone four days later. You and John were supposed to leave for Boston the next morning instead you had to call in to work, cancel your flight, call your trusty neighbor Marge to ask her to look at your house, pick up your mail, and water your plants. 
You were crushed and at the same time overwhelmed with bureaucracy so you couldn't stop. You had forgotten to eat breakfast that morning, got dressed in a hurry to go to the funeral home to deliver the suit with which you had decided to bury your father, then went to do some paperwork with the insurance company and finally to the church to arrange with the pastor the time of the service and the proceedings. When you left the church you felt an emptiness in your stomach, your head was spinning, you had eaten barely a sandwich in the last two days. 
You knew you were about to collapse, saw a café across the street from the church, and went inside to get a croissant and cappuccino to go. 
When you came out you found yourself in front of Danielle. She was so sorry, of course your mother had informed Marcus's mother and they would be attending the funeral. Danielle hugged you as if you were her sister, telling you that she understood you because she too had lost her father a few years earlier and even though you didn't know each other well you could have called her if you needed anything. 
You had thanked her and headed for the car, locked yourself in and took a couple of minutes to chug your croissant and drink your cappuccino. At least partially regenerated from the late breakfast you had headed back home, where John and your mother were waiting for you.
In the car you had been thinking about how kind Danielle had been and how lucky Marcus was to be with her.
The next day you had put on a sober black suit that you used for the office and probably wouldn't be able to wear again after that day, put on just enough makeup, helped John put on his tie, and headed for church with him and your mom. 
All three of you were exhausted, grieving, trying to hold the pieces together as best you could with each other's help but your dad's absence was hard to bear. You wished you could have woken up and found it had been just a nightmare, you wished you could have hugged him and talked to him and he, as he had always done, would have found the words you needed most.
There was only one other person who could soothe your worries in the same way your dad could, and that person was Marcus. 
John had been able to be there for you anyway, with actions more than words, taking tasks to take away from you, relieving you of burdens you could not carry alone, and for that you were infinitely grateful. He was a good husband. 
After the service, under his arm, you left the church behind your mother. You had lost count of the number of people who had come to hug you, faces you had never seen, work colleagues of your father's whom you had never met, old childhood friends, the church was full of people who had come to remember him fondly. This pleased you, but it was strange to you at the same time. You wished you had some time to yourself, alone, to try to catch your breath and rationalize at least some of what had happened, that blender of emotions that had shaken and sucked you in. 
You had made your way to the cemetery, walking along the path that led to the family grave where your grandparents were buried you had felt like you were in a muffled bubble where everything moved in slow motion, barely sensing John's presence beside you. 
When you had arrived, you had looked up for only a moment and before you had seen Marcus's. You had not noticed his presence in the church, busy as you were with hugging and greeting, you had seen only his mother but he had remained in the background, respecting your grief. Just as you wished others had done. There was nothing more to be said, he always knew what you needed, no matter how many years had passed, he could still read you like an open book just like when at 18 he had realized that your highest aspiration was to become a writer without even the need to make it explicit in words. 
His eyes were swollen and reddened; it was obvious that he was moved. Beside him was Danielle with a pair of dark glasses covering her face, clutching his arm elegantly and dignifiedly. 
You had smiled weakly at him, thanking him with your eyes, and he had smiled back, looking at you with the sweetest, sorriest eyes I had seen that day. 
___________________________________________
You had stayed behind to watch the final burial operations, while John had driven your mother back to the car, who had burst into convulsive tears, crushed by the realization that she had lost forever the man she had loved most in the world. 
You had felt a hand barely graze your shoulder, you had turned around and saw Marcus standing there on the grass “hey” As soon as you had seen him the impulse to hug him had come to you spontaneously, he had welcomed you into his arms, stroking your head, wrapping you against his chest, trying to comfort you. 
Being close to him still felt like home, his warmth immediately made you feel calmer, less alone, and not that John couldn't do that but with Marcus it was different. He had always been different in a way that was impossible to explain but that you felt hammering hard in your heart.
“Thank you,” you had whispered, with the tears you had finally allowed yourself to shed wetting your cheeks and his shirt. 
“Don't mention it,” he had whispered, continuing to hold you close. 
You had lingered a little longer in his embrace before pulling away and asking where Danielle was. 
"She went home with my mom. I stayed in case you needed anything.” 
“It's okay, thank you, there was no need,” you stammered lyingly. Yes you needed him, now more than ever, and he knew it well. 
“Your mother and John?” 
“Aunt Maggie drove them home, they left my mom's car with me.”
“Do you want me to drive?” she had asked and all you could do was nod ”please. But then how are you going to get back?” 
“I'll call Danielle, don't worry” he had encircled your waist with an arm as he walked you to the car. He had opened the door and helped you get in, even buckled your seat belt no matter how hard you had tried to insist you could do it yourself. 
Marcus did not spare himself when it came to caring for others. 
He had climbed up on the driver's side and in a rush had hugged you back, there, inside the car, whispering, “You don't know how sorry I am, baby. Your father was a great man.” 
You had looked at him gratefully, amid tears that had begun to flow profusely again "thank you" 
He had kissed you, right after that. And the instant his lips had rested on yours, you had felt that you could not help yourself no matter how hard you had tried to bury your feelings all those years. There was something inexplicable that united you, a way of understanding each other that needed no words, as if you were made to recognize each other, to see inside each other's souls. You had read in his eyes that day in the supermarket how much he had missed you, and he had read the same in yours, and just before that you had felt the same need to have him near, in spite of John, Danielle, and anything else that told you it was wrong. Deep inside you had always known it was right, you had felt it from the moment you first met him. You had been crowing for years about people talking about soul mates, meetings of destiny, and things like that. But now you knew you had felt it. His soft lips on yours were like honey to your soul, you wished you could sink into that feeling, drown in that sea and never rise again.
You couldn't leave John though. Not after you had built a life together in Boston, not after he had supported and cared for you all those days. Not after all he had done for you. 
As much as it hurt to do so, you pulled away from his lips. “I’ve always thought about you, all these years,” he said. “I’m sorry, you know, I didn’t realize it before, that maybe we could be something more. I never told you, but I remembered that kiss we shared when we were 18 very well.” Marcus was a torrent of words and was saying everything you’d always wanted to hear. “And I remember the night in that motel, too, how you held me in your sleep. I…” You knew he was about to say something like “I love you” “I’ve always loved you,” and so you cut him off. “Marcus.” He paused, his mouth half open as he looked at you in shock. “It’s too late. We can’t. Maybe there was a chance a few years ago, but now? We’re both married, we have responsibilities, we have to be realistic. It’s not fair to Danielle and John. And I have a job and a life in Boston, I can’t just leave everything all of a sudden.”
“But I…” and you knew he was about to say those words again. “Please don’t say that. Don’t make this any harder than it already is.”
Marcus had fallen silent, looking down at his hands draped over his lap, and then said sadly, “I understand.”
You had just lost your father and now you were losing him too. It wasn’t fair, but it was the only thing to do. “Take me home, please.” He would have started the car without saying anything, driving to your house without looking at you again, perhaps afraid that he wouldn’t be able to let you go if he ever laid eyes on you again. 
You got out of the car just saying thank you, without hugging him because you knew it would have hurt even more.
____________________________________
2008
When John had told you that you should move to Washington DC, you had not taken it well. You did not want to leave Boston, the bright home where you had begun to build your new life, that city that had welcomed you. Starting all over again somewhere else, in a city you had never been to, seemed too much. 
In the end, however, you had accepted it; leaving John seemed even worse. And he had continued to be a good husband, so you saw no reason to part with him.
After all, he had received a good promotion, he had rented a house where you had found a familiar light again, it had big windows, high ceilings, big rooms. John made good money and had tried to accommodate you in everything. 
He had made it worth it all the way.
You had been struggling a bit to fit into the editorial staff of the new newspaper you had found work for. You were aiming for the Washington Post, but they had totally bounced you, which had been no small disappointment to digest. 
However, after all, your life had regained some meaning. 
It was now six months since you had moved, you hadn't heard from Marcus in eight years. And this time it was not because of distance, but because it had really hurt you to find out that he felt something too but it never seemed to be the right time for you. It would have been in 1993 perhaps, if you had had courage, if you had taken the risk of exploring your feelings together. He hadn't had the guts to tell you anything, you were too afraid, and when you had found common ground it had immediately collapsed. 
John had noticed that something was wrong, even he knew you well enough to know that it pained you not to hear from your friend again, and at times he had even urged you to call him. You had told him that he had said something unpleasant about Danielle while you were in the car and you had felt sorry for her, from there you had started to argue. It was a really boorish excuse and you were pretty sure John hadn't bought it but had played it off for the sake of quiet life. 
“Can you stop by the bank to deposit this check this morning?” he had told you that morning before leaving the house. You were sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and enjoying your day off. 
“Sure,” you had answered him, ”I'll go there before I go to the laundry to pick up my dress for tonight.” 
“Mmm the burgundy dress with that dizzying neckline?” he had told you as he leaned over to give you a kiss 
“Just that one” you had smiled as you returned the kiss and caressed his cheek ”you like it huh?”
“I'm looking forward to tonight” he had chuckled before leaving the house with his briefcase ”I'll be home at 7 o'clock okay?”
“Perfect, I'll be ready” you had thrown him a kiss and then curled up in your chair, finishing your coffee and admiring the view of the waking city outside. 
It was your anniversary, and he was going to take you to dinner at a French restaurant you had heard about in enthusiastic tones from your discerning colleague who was a food and wine critic. 
You had dressed quietly, gone out to do your chores, had a manicure appointment, then gone to pick up your dress at the dry cleaners and finally to the bank. 
As soon as you had left the bank you had bumped into a guy. 
You had looked up and been stunned. 
Marcus.
How was that possible? 
“Oh shit,” he had exclaimed.
His hair was slightly longer, he had grown a mustache and a beard but it was him, there was no doubt about it, you would have recognized him in a thousand. 
"What are you doing here?" you had asked him, widening your eyes, without a hello or how are you or anything else, you were too shocked. 
He was the last person you expected to see on your anniversary. 
Marcus had brushed his hand behind his neck, the gesture he always made when he was embarrassed “I got a big promotion” in a tone as if to apologize for existing in the same state as you, in the same city as you, for coexisting in the same environment as you.
“Whatever...I have to go, anyway, have a nice life,” you had tried to say quickly, to disengage yourself from that surreal situation. 
You had already turned your back on him when you heard him say “no wait...please...would you like to have a cup of coffee?”
You had turned silently to look at him. He couldn't have been serious. Yet he was.
And looking into those big brown pleading eyes, for some reason you had not been able to say no.
“All right,” you had replied with a shrug, ”I'll give you half an hour, then I'll have to go home.”
You went to sit in a café around the corner and ordered a cappuccino.
"So how are you?" you asked absentmindedly. 
“Danielle and I broke up last spring.” 
“Oh. I'm sorry.” It was like a blade through the chest to hear his voice again, to hear him say that he was single again and that his marriage was over. Somehow it made you feel guilty even though after eight years it was unlikely that the main reason for their breakup was you. 
“Yeah...she wanted children and for a while we tried but...” 
“Marcus please, I don't care, it's your business because it's over,” you cut off. 
You didn't have to get involved again. When you had thought back to your father's death and how he had confessed right afterwards you had been angry with him. Why had he done it at that time when you were so particularly vulnerable? It wasn't fair. 
"Sorry I-" he had babbled.  
“Never mind, never mind,” you had interrupted him again with a hand gesture. “Look, let's talk straight once and for all” you didn't know where all that aggression was coming from but it was growing inside you inexorably, like an infection ”why the hell are we here?” 
He had lowered his gaze to his cappuccino, then brought it back to you and stared at you in a way that made you feel naked and helpless. He still had an effect on you, and it pissed you off. “I miss you,” he had admitted under his breath, ”I miss talking to you and I miss having you around. I miss everything about you. When I saw you I couldn't believe it. But I know I can't let you leave without clearing things up.” 
“There's nothing left to clear up. It's over Marcus, can't you see that? There was never a right time for us.” 
“That's not true, I-” 
“Stop it! Look, I'm trying to live my life, you do it too,” you had screeched
“But-” 
“No 'buts'... Marcus, I'm tired. I'm tired of this running into each other and don't tell me it's fate because it's just pure randomness. John was transferred for work, now we live here, end of story. I'm still with him, okay? And I'm happy, so please leave me alone.” 
You could see his clenched fist on the coffee table, his eyes glazed with tears, his Adam's apple jumping as you mentioned John. He looked devastated. It was no longer your business anyway, so you had gotten up and made to leave, leaving a bill on the coffee table. “Don't look for me anymore.” 
Marcus had jumped up, his chair had fallen back crashing onto the pavement, and he didn't even seem to notice as he tried to stop you.
“Please” he had grabbed you by the sleeve of his jacket ”please.” 
You had turned back to him and looking into his eyes you had seen the little boy who asked you if he would ever be famous, the one who helped you with your homework, the 20-year-old who had involved you in the craziest vacation of your life, and then the adult who had broken your heart. 
“No.” you had whispered, ”no fucking way.” 
Marcus' face was a grimace of pain, as if in physical pain from your rejection, his shoulders hunched and his hand not letting go of you. He was pathetic and sweet at the same time.
His eyes were fixed in yours as he told you loud and clear, “I love you.”
I love you. 
You had longed to hear it come from his lips for so long that now it was like a lash that burned against your skin. You had stopped feeling like you were glued to the sidewalk, unable to take a step forward “What the hell! Did you have to tell me that? Was it necessary after I told you that I am still with my husband? Fuck, your timing is the worst thing ever. Do you know what day it is today? My wedding anniversary.” you had thrown up words at him angrily, feeling a knot in your stomach that nauseated you. 
“I don't want anything from you,” he had replied, his voice trembling, ”I just wanted you to know.”
“And now that I know according to you what have we solved? What have we gained? I'll tell you, absolutely nothing Marcus.” 
You had turned around and left, yelling at him, “I'll tell you again, don't ever look for me.” 
You had come home and taken a long hot bath, cried your last tears for him, and then decided it was John you had to think about, your special day. Marcus wasn't going to ruin it for you. You had prepared yourself carefully, put on the dress he liked so much, your favorite perfume, and waited for John. When he had come home you had driven out to a restaurant, had had a delicious dinner, sex as soon as you got home, and fallen asleep in his arms feeling that it was right. 
___________________________________
2010
“Love don't wait up for me, I'll be back late. I am so sorry, I love you.” 
It was already the fourth time in a week that he sent you such a message, by now John spent more time in the office than anywhere else. He had been given another promotion and was now mainly in charge of foreign exchanges, so he went to the office at impossible hours, came back later and later, and you barely saw him in the morning getting out of bed to jump in the shower. You hadn't had sex for at least a month, in those days you had talked more often with the mailman than with your husband.
Finally a publishing house had noticed you and they had published your book, you had gotten a chance to continue working for the newspaper by writing your articles from home so you could work on your second novel. 
You had huffed, looking at the screen, by now you were going to your friends' dinners alone, in those two years you had bonded with some couples in your neighborhood, and with a colleague from the newspaper and her husband. Every time you had been invited in the last three months John had declined, saying he had to work. 
You were beginning to feel really alone in your marriage, but you knew you had to try something. You still cared about John; you didn't want everything you had built together to be ruined. Sure, since he was earning more money he was showering you with unexpected and expensive gifts that certainly didn't make up for his absence, though. You had never been a materialistic person, no matter how beautiful the diamond bracelets and pearl necklaces and expensive shoes were, you missed falling asleep cuddled with your husband, feeling his caresses, having breakfast with him in the morning, spending a weekend together on the couch watching TV cuddling, simply spending time with him. For the past few weeks you had failed to write a word, you had hastily completed articles for the newspaper just to meet deadlines but your novel had stalled. You were busy cleaning to take your mind off things, you had joined the gym to force yourself to leave the house but then you would go back and find yourself spending entire evenings lounging around, not knowing what else to do. 
You had decided that night that you had to take matters into your own hands, put on a pretty dress, fixed your hair and make-up thoroughly, and then went out with the intention of surprising him. You were going to bring him his favorite dishes from your favorite Chinese restaurant to the office. 
When you had arrived at his workplace, you had looked up from the car window and seen the light on in his office. 
You had come down loaded with Chinese noodles and dumplings, and as you walked toward the entrance you had noticed his car parked not far away. 
You had taken the elevator with your heart in your throat, looking forward to seeing his happy face as he enjoyed a hot meal. The elevator had opened on the floor and you had started down the hallway leading to his office. There was no one there, everything was quiet and still, but the closer you got to his office the more you heard strange noises. Bellowing, hushed voices. 
The door was pulled over, you had pushed it slightly, and the scene that unfolded before your eyes was unsettling. 
Veronica, a married colleague of him whom you had met at the firm's Christmas party a few months earlier, was bent over John's desk, her skirt up, her panties down, her long legs covered by black hold-ups, her stilettos sinking into the Persian carpet under John's desk. And your husband holding her hips and sinking into her from behind. 
His shirt was hanging off his shoulders, his hair was disheveled, his neck tense and sweaty, as he stood there with his cool wool pants down, fucking his colleague. 
He grunted some words that you had never heard him say when you were having sex “Yeah, bitch, you like that huh? You like getting pounded by my cock huh? You're such a dirty slut, do you feel how wet you are for me?" 
You couldn't believe your eyes. Your sweet husband, the one who had stood by you so devotedly…where had that man gone? 
You dropped the bag with the Chinese dinner on the floor, the boxes had opened, and the noodles had spread all over the hardwood floor. “What the fuck?!”
John had turned around shocked, still with his cock inside his coworker “Oh shit. No, wait, honey I-” he had stepped out of her and tried to pull up his pants awkwardly ”please-fuck-I can explain.” 
“There's nothing to explain, you piece of shit!” you had yelled at him as he approached trying to stammer out some stupid excuse and had slapped him open-handed across the face as soon as he got in front of you ‘don't bother coming home’ you had added contemptuously.
“But love I-” he had pranced rubbing his cheek ”please-” 
“NO!” You had yelled “No, I don't want to hear your bullshit excuses, I don't want anything more to do with you, you disgust me!”
Veronica was standing in the corner buttoning her blouse and pulling down her skirt without meeting your gaze, her face hot and guilty.
Everything that you had sacrificed for that relationship, how you had followed him and reinvented your life for him, adapting to his needs, trying to build a happy nest for the two of you in Washington, all had been swept away. He had stomped on your marriage, your trust, your heart. 
You had driven home crying, risking missing a red light, had nailed down at the last moment with your heart bouncing inside your chest like a jackhammer. You had walked into the house throwing your purse and coat on the floor, throwing your shoes in the middle of the hallway and throwing yourself on the bed, hiding your face in the pillow with your head bursting, a sense of helplessness and defeat enveloping your temples, your chest, your stomach. 
It was over.
John had never come home, you had learned through his lawyer that he had rented an apartment near his office, and a week later he sent three big guys from a moving company to pick up his things.
You couldn't stay in that house anymore. Everything reminded you of him, the lies he had been telling you for months and what was even worse, all the happy moments you had lived in there in spite of yourself. 
You were dragging yourself from room to room without strength, you hadn't written anything anymore, you had told the editor of the newspaper that you were sick to have an excuse to delay the deadlines for your articles. 
You were tired, you were angry, you lacked the will to do anything, after three days without seeing you leave the house your friend Denise, who lived across the street had called you alarmed to see if you were all right, and hearing your dejected, fading voice had decided to use the keys you had given her in case of an emergency to come and check on you in person. 
You had not been able to lie to her; you had burst into tears and told her everything as soon as she asked you where John was. 
From that day she had been by every day bringing you dinner, making sure you ate, forcing you to shower, tidying up. You didn't know what you had done to deserve Denise in your life but you were incredibly grateful that she was there. 
Gradually you had forced yourself to take charge of your life again, started going out again pushed by your friends and even moved house, encouraged by them. You couldn't turn over a new leaf without getting out of there. 
And you had especially realized that you could walk with your head held high; you were not the one who had to be ashamed. 
And looking back on it, you had really overcome a lot in the last few years. The loss of your father, Marcus, your husband. All the men who had meant something to you in your life. 
You could have been proud that you did your best to stay on your feet. 
________________________________________________________
2011 
It had been a year since you had discovered John screwing his colleague.
You had tried dating men, without success, but things were going very well professionally. You had finally managed to finish your second book, and the publisher had been extremely pleased, so much so that he had arranged a series of meetings for you at bookstores around the country.  You had just returned from Ohio when you got a call from your mother inviting you for Christmas.
You had no desire to return to Sacramento, but how could you say no to your mom? She was left alone and it had not been easy for her. Your aunt and uncle lived nearby and took care of her but she had said she missed you a lot.
And she was so proud of you, she had asked you for copies of your books to give to all her friends, she was your biggest fan. You were happy to see her and spend time with her. 
And so, there you were at the airport, with a big suitcase, ready to get on yet another plane and fly across the country. 
You had just gotten an upgrade to business class and were in the private lounge of the area airline ordering yourself a martini when you heard a familiar voice behind you calling your name. 
Marcus. Again. 
“I swear I'm not following you,” he had raised his hands in surrender. 
“I know. I haven't seen you in three years, and we live in the same town.”
You had smiled; it wasn't bad to see his face again after all. 
“Martini?” He had asked pointing to your glass 
“Yeah. Can you please make another one?” You had said turning toward the bartender. 
You had sat at a small table with your cocktails “Are you going to see your mother?”
You had nodded, “You too?” 
“Yes, my parents were very insistent. Where is John?” 
“I have no idea,” you had squeezed into your shoulders taking a sip of your martini. 
“Oh, did you break up? I'm sorry, he seemed like a good man,” he had said.
“Apparently he wasn't since he was cheating on me with one of his colleagues.” 
“You should have better judgment anyway, aren't you a detective?” you had asked, raising an eyebrow and looking at him wryly 
Marcus had burst out laughing, “You're right, I should.”
And he had told you about the time he had fallen in love with someone named Teresa, a colleague of his, and had been left like a poor idiot the previous year, without realizing that she was in love with someone else. 
“It wasn't your fault, you know,” you told him sweetly, ”I know how you get when you have a crush.” 
“How do I become?” he had asked you with a sigh.
And you had replied with a smirk “Well, if you must know...naive, head in the clouds, like you live in a world of unicorns and fairies” 
“Really? A ridiculous clown? Is that what I become?” he had chuckled and then turned serious again ”Not with you, I hope”
You had laughed, you could have laughed at that point. Or maybe it was just the martini clouding your mind. 
“Whatever,” you had rolled your eyes. 
“Well, I'm sorry,” he had muttered.
“It's okay” you had smiled ”Really.”
At that moment they had announced boarding for your flight, so you had hurried to the gate together. 
You were both in business, so eventually you had sat next to each other and continued chatting. 
And it was nice, really nice. You were both single, more aware, you had reached an age where you could be honest with yourselves and you could joke about your dramas. 
“So you had noticed that I had hugged you that night huh?” 
“Sure. You pounced on me in my sleep and woke me up. I didn't want to embarrass you so I played it cool” she had smiled ”I thought you were sleepwalking and dreaming of hugging Keanu Reeves or whatever.” 
You had burst out in the loudest laugh you had had in years and then covered your mouth embarrassed that you had disturbed the other passengers. Fortunately those in your vicinity all had headphones on and were watching a movie. 
“Oh, come on” you had tapped his shoulder and then taken by you don't know what courage-probably the second martini you were downing-you had said ”the only one I dreamed of hugging was you.” 
“I didn't realize this until later...Now is there anyone you would like to hug by any chance?” he had whispered in your ear.
“Actually...yes” 
And there, in that plane, you kissed. For the first time without hindrance, without remorse, without drama, without fear. “I love you” he had whispered on your lips, and you had responded, finally free to say it ”I love you too.”
“So we'll try this time?” he had caressed your cheek, sliding his hand down your neck. 
“Yes” You had said ”definitely yes.”
“Your mother will be delighted” he had smiled, kissing you again “it's going to be a great Christmas.”
“Well, Merry Christman then” you whispered as your mouth moved down his neck.
“Merry Christmas, baby”
86 notes · View notes
mimi-cee-genshin · 1 year ago
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personally do very badly with cunning people. not to say i can’t talk with them but they make me nervous and i tend to be quiet around them because i don’t know what they’re thinking. but i love them in media. probably will not vibe well with kaeya & ayato because of it.
i think i would get along really well with deyha! and probably kaveh and hutao. i like level headed people especially irl so i’d like tighnari :3 he will scare me tho bc i dislike being shouted at and i can be stupid at times but like…. level headed 👍 and smart.
ok this just made me think: to you, what’s the most attractive job to have in teyvat? — @milkstore
Yeah! I agree cunning people are so fun, but only in media lol. You'd always wonder if they have ulterior motives behind their actions.
My preferred job would be to be Collei's tutor LOLLL.
When I was doing Kaveh's hangout when they were talking about Collei's curriculum, I was like, Tighnari, give her to me. I'll take care of her. I'll even adjust the pacing of the curriculum on the fly for her. You have your hands full with other forest ranger stuff. Don't worry about Collei.
And then during Faruzan's hangout, I was like, come with me Collei. You can read all the light novels with me. I'll even build a curriculum around them if you want. Lolll
And then the Sumeru guys can pay me whatever they want. I just want to teach her and help her. Faruzan can fight me for her. LOL. She might win though because I can't fight. 😂 But really, I enjoy teaching one-on-one and helping others learn. And since even Alhaitham is willing to help Collei out, he'd pay me, right? Along with Cyno and Tighnari, I'd be set financially, right? 😂 (Kaveh better not pay me until he's out of debt lol)
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invvuu · 11 months ago
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LIPS TO EYES AND VICE VERSA — SIM JAEYUN
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SUMMARY : sim jake sucks at being your tutor but he makes up for it by being your boyfriend. PAIRING : boyfriend!jake x gn!reader GENRE : established relationship, fluff / 1.6k words WARNINGS : jake is flirty, reader loses their mind because of jake ( there is a theme here if you couldn’t tell ) not proofread
﹙ 📑 ﹚ AUTHOR’S NOTE — why is writing author notes harder than the actual fics themselves,,, but anyways i guess i can just mention that i started writing this last night and then finished it while i was in online class as some sort of tmi (no cus why did i edit this draft five times already just to change the author’s note)
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“MY EYES ARE UP HERE,” you say blankly — or rather, in an attempt to appear blankly as you look at Jake, your boyfriend and current tutor for the time being.
He had his chin sitting on top of his palm, fingers resting and occasionally tapping against the skin of his cheek. Jake had a couple rings adorning his fingers, all in silver except for the matching ring he bought for the both of you as a gift to ensure his commitment.
His hair was slicked back partly, slightly giving way for you to see his forehead. It also gave you a much clearer view of his eyes, hiding behind the clear lenses of the glasses he usually wears when reading or studying.
His eyes were a common sight considering the fact that he was your boyfriend and you see him almost everyday, however the only reason why you were bothered by them was because they didn’t focus on your eyes, but rather on your lips as you talked.
This was one of his flirty antics at work, the kind of antics you’ve gotten used to a long time ago but can’t help but still be affected by it.
“I know,” Jake responds back, attitude completely the same as it was in the beginning of your rant. Shortly after you notice the corners of his lips curving upwards into smirk, appearing to showcase that he knew exactly what he was doing.
And you were not surprised.
A sigh escapes your lips, “Jake, you’re supposed to be helping me with the lesson.” You spew out while raising an eyebrow at him, crossing both arms together in a direct manner. “Are you going to help me study or are you just going to keep messing around?”
He chuckles amusingly, grin not faltering.
“Messing around? I’m just admiring you, babe. You do know that you’re beautiful, right?”
Jake’s gaze starts to slowly trail from your lips towards your eyes, seeing the expression displayed on your facial features. “Besides, you were going off topic by ranting about Professor Kim and the Math exam.” He tilts his head, still appearing to be flirting with you.
“Well — yeah, and you’re supposed to be helping me pass the exam right now because I don’t want to fail,” you insist, attempting to get Jake back on track in acting as your tutor.
You then see him switch his focus onto the semi messy written notes, opened and sprawled across the table in front of you. “Huh,” he lets out, “You seem alright doing it by yourself though.”
Crap, he was getting to you. The way he spoke to you in a soft yet attractive tone rendered you flustered, and the way he looked like currently was definitely not helping your mental state at all.
With further inspection of his overall appearance, you can see he had his sleeves rolled up until it reached right below his elbow. This simple insight made you admire how evident his veins were on his hand, clearly seen due to his dress shirt’s sleeves not covering them.
He was, without a doubt, making you short circuit. And you absolutely hated that he was doing nothing but only the bare minimum.
“I still need your help either way.” Your tongue moves on its own immediately, mind trying to keep your thoughts at bay about him. You lay your hand on top of the written notes, sliding them towards Jake so he could read them properly.
“Oh, I was supposed to be your tutor or something?” He asks nonchalantly, brows raising up as he fixes his posture on his seat.
In response you roll your eyes and scoff, expression becoming a bit more irritated than it was in the beginning.
“So you just agreed to do this without even listening to me properly when I asked you earlier?” You inquire back, voice surprisingly sounding harsher as you continue looking at him.
Another set of chuckles blew out of Jake’s mouth. “No need to be so angry,” He then leans forward again, tilting his head another time, “I really am sorry though, but I was only doing my job as your boyfriend.”
His words sent shivers down your spine one after the other. It was annoying really, how much his voice had this much of an impact on you. His sultry and deep tone that he always used when speaking to you added another factor of why you were attracted to him in the first place.
From how he apologized, you could easily surmise that he wasn’t truly sorry. But the part where he mentioned that he was just being your boyfriend immediately gave you all of the reasons to forgive him.
You sigh, giving the attempt in ignoring your heart from fluttering another chance. Sim Jaeyun, Sim Jake, Jaeyun, Jake, Jakey — or whatever name he goes by, he truly knew his way to get to you no matter the occasion or if he had changed his persona.
At this point you were already losing your calm demeanor the more you interacted with Jake. Honestly, if it was him who drew the other half of your heart, you’d keep it against your chest without a single question.
He made you want to do impulsive actions, he made you want to embarrass yourself, and he made you want to become a fool. These thoughts were things that you wouldn’t dare to say out loud, mainly because you knew how stupid you would look like in doing so. You couldn’t help but wonder pitifully in your mind.
What was this man doing to you? You’re both dating now, so why does it feel like you were back to hopelessly crushing on him like before?
After all of these questions, you were sure that your mind was going to go haywire if he ever decided to graze his hand against yours.
“Babe,” Jake calls out, catching your attention as he waves a hand in front of your face, “Am I really that much of an eye candy to you?” He asks teasingly, eyes still looking into yours as he watches you flinch slightly at the sudden movement.
You then feel a tap on the tip of your nose, seeing a soft smile adorning your boyfriend’s features, “You’re making it harder for me to help you study if you keep acting this cute.”
As your heartbeat intensifies from his words, you quickly realize what had happened: you were staring at Jake and you weren’t aware of it.
In this point of the current situation, there was no mistake that you were an actual fool in disguise as a human. “Oh — uh, what were you saying?” You ask in a rather flustered manner as you place a hand at the nape of your neck, rubbing it gently the moment it touches it.
Jake grabs the pen from the table’s surface into his hand and clicks it a few times before answering, “I was admiring the view and it seems like you enjoyed yours too.” He cheekily prompts while giving out a small wink towards your direction.
Embarrassment quickly shoots through your mind at full speed, making you receive the desire to hide yourself from him further. “I was looking behind you,” you mutter, trying to create a valid excuse as your fingers begin fiddling with the edges of the papers sprawled across the table.
“You were looking at books about Shakespearean plays?” He stifles, turning his body to glance at the bookshelf to confirm his question. “Last time you told me that Shakespeare sucked, didn’t know you had a change of heart,” Jake shrugs sarcastically, the corners of his lips tugging themselves into a small smirk.
You frown slightly, letting go of the papers and allowing your hand to rest on the table. “I didn’t say he sucked, I said that reading and analyzing his works sucked,” you explain exasperatedly.
Jake can’t help but supply laughter at your words — the way you quickly tried to cover up what you were actually doing made him find you cuter than usual. With the intent of making the situation seem more entertaining, he points the pen at your face, “Then what about the books made you stop talking?”
“I just remembered about my assignment for History.”
“Really? History?”
You nod eagerly — a bit too eagerly for the matter. You tried your best to remedy the situation at hand but the seeping thought of Jake already knowing the truth was pretty much turning into reality.
“Yeah, I have to — um, read a chapter from Midsummer’s Night Dream and analyze it.”
“But I thought you were supposed to be reading Macbeth?”
The amount of counter statements your boyfriend kept saying were only making you more embarrassed. Embarrassed because at this point, you were sure that he knew exactly what you were doing a few moments ago.
“Just tell me the truth,” Jake prompts, “You were looking at me, it was very obvious.”
This was beyond what you were expecting for this tutoring session — actually, was this even a tutoring session in the first place? It was more like a stupid moment of you going feral over a man that you have been dating for almost a year now.
Sim Jaeyun was definitely a bad choice to have as your tutor.
“I have a challenge for you.” He puts his hands together on the table, as well as leaning back away from you to straighten his posture, “I’ll kiss you every time I catch you gawking at me.”
Hearing his idea makes you click your tongue subconsciously, because you knew that it would’ve make your life so much easier if this entire session didn’t happen, nor if you asked Jake to be your tutor in the first place.
© INVVUU 2024
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jasontoddsmommyissues · 2 years ago
Text
Let’s Give ‘Em Something to Talk About
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Femme!Henderson!Reader
Summary: Y/N Henderson’s relationship with Eddie puts her at odds with Jason Carver and co.
Warnings: Reader uses she/her pronouns, bullying/harassment, slut shaming, allusions to sexual content (nothing sexual actually happens), Jason being a prick, swearing, Reader is Dustin’s sister but no physical descriptions are used and you can read it as an adopted sibling if you want, I think that’s it but let me know if I missed something
A/N: Alright, this is the first Fic I’ve ever posted on here. I’m honestly a little nervous, but hopefully you enjoy. I’ll probably end up posting this on my Ao3 too so I’ll link that at some point.
My Master List | Ao3
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“I’m gonna miss you”, Eddie whines as he leans against the locker next to yours.
“It’s one class”, you reply as you swap out your English textbook for history, “that’s, what, an hour?”
“Actually I have Davis’s class next so it feels more like three hours”, Eddie says.
You snort. Mr. Davis has probably been around since the dinosaur era, and if there were to be a competition for most boring teacher at Hawkins High, he would win it hands down.
“It’s not funny”, Eddie teasingly pouts, “I might actually die of boredom.”
“As much as I would hate for that to happen, I’ve got my own class to get to, so unfortunately you’re on your own for now,” you reply.
“Alright well, please tell the rest of Hellfire I’m going to miss them”, he tells you, “and feel free to wear that black skirt of yours to the funeral. The tight one. It’s what I would’ve wanted.”
You roll your eyes affectionately before pressing a quick kiss to his lips.
“You’re so dramatic”, you say, “I’ll see you later.”
“If I survive that long”, he calls. You shake your head before turning the corner and heading into your history classroom.
“Okay, class”, your teacher, Mr. Price announces once the bell rings, “I’ve written some questions on the board. You’ll find the answers in Chapter 5 of your textbook. Write them down and turn them in by the end of class. You may work with a partner if you’d like.”
You pull your textbook out of your bag and flip to a clean sheet in your notebook. You don’t have any friends in this class, so you figure you may as well just do it yourself and get it over with. That is, until a voice startles you as you’re about to start reading the first page of the chapter.
“Hey, Y/N. Do you wanna work together?”
You blink up at the source of the voice and are pretty sure you must be hallucinating. That’s the only explanation you can think of as to why Jason Carver would be asking you to be his partner.
The two of you have been in the same grade since Kindergarten and you can't think of a single time in all those years that he’s directly acknowledged your existence. The closest thing you have to a connection with him is that your little brother is friends with one of his new Basketball recruits, but you kind of doubt he even knows or cares about that. There’s a few members of his little posse he could be asking to work with him, so you have no clue why he’d be asking you of all people. But, you don’t have anyone else, so you shrug.
“Sure, I guess”, you say.
“Great”, he smiles, moving to sit down next to you.
“I’ll get started on number 1”, you suggest, “maybe you can do number 2 and we’ll compare?”
“Sure”, he says sweetly. You’re honestly getting a little freaked out by how friendly he’s being.
You both do your agreed upon work, and then switch off to show each other your answers.
“So?” you ask when he’s finished reading yours, “does that seem right?”
“Yeah”, he replies, “you’re good at this. You ever thought about being a tutor?”
“Oh, no, not really”, you say.
“See, I just ask because our youth group has this program where some of us older members help the younger kids out after school and stuff.”
“Oh, that’s cool”, you tell him, not really engaged the conversation. It all sounds well and good, but you really aren’t interested in being a tutor at the moment.
“You know, the church has a lot of great programs”, Jason continues, and you’re not sure what any of this has to do with the Byzantine empire, which is what you’re supposed to be discussing.
“Okay”, you say.
“They do a lot of outreach, a lot of stuff to help people who have lost their way.”
“Lost their way?” you inquire, a small part of you beginning to understand what’s actually going on.
“Yeah. You know. Made bad choices, got mixed up with the wrong people.”
“Um, I think we should just get back to the assignment”, you suggest, uncomfortable with the discussion and not wanting it to go any further.
“Look”, Jason sighs, “what I’m trying to say is, I don’t know you very well, but you seem like a nice girl. I’d hate to see you go down a bad path.”
Okay. You get it now, and it’s starting to piss you off.
“Thank you, but I’m doing just fine”, you insist.
“You’ve been hanging around with Eddie Munson”, Jason says, as if it’s some scandalous secret and not just you spending time with your boyfriend, “you really shouldn’t do that, you know…”
You stare at him, a little dumbfounded he would just up and say such a thing to you.
“You can’t be serious…”, you say.
Jason leans in to you, a deadly serious expression on his face.
“I’ve heard about guys like him before”, he tells you, “I know the stuff they’re into.”
Yeah, so do you. It’s tabletop role playing games, which is about the least nefarious activity you could possibly think of. Jason clearly doesn’t see it that way, though, because he’s still going on.
“And I know they like to lure innocent people like you into their little organizations. I’m telling you, Munson is bad news. You should stay away before you get hurt.”
You seriously have to hold yourself back from laughing right in Jason’s face. You’re not sure what reality he’s living in, but it clearly isn’t the same one you are. Last weekend, you and Eddie had watched Terms of Endearment and he’d started to cry (well started tearing up at least, even sniffled a little, though he vehemently denied it). There’s not a single situation in which you can ever imagine him causing you intentional harm.
“Okay, you know what”, you say, “I think I’m gonna finish the rest of the assignment alone, thanks.”
Jason grabs your arm gently but firmly. “I’m serious, Y/N. He’s dangerous. Stay away from him before you end up hurt or killed.”
You’re really not sure what the most offensive part of all this is. It’s either that Jason thinks that somehow Eddie Munson, your lovable dork of a boyfriend,is secretly an evil Satanist cult leader, or that you’re apparently too stupid or naive to make that kind of judgment for yourself. Maybe it’s that he volunteered to work with you on an assignment and acted all friendly with you just so he could get this opportunity to preach to you about your supposedly “dangerous” lifestyle. He’s never given you the time of day before, after all.
“I don’t know what it is you think you see in him, but I promise you it’s not going to end well.”
You snort. Is he, what, jealous or something? He’s got a girlfriend, after all, and plenty of other girls who’d be willing to take her place if she were to leave him. It’s kind of sad that he’s apparently so insecure that the mere thought of Eddie Munson getting female attention is enough to have him losing his shit like this.
“Whatever”, you spit, “just leave me alone.”
He glares at you, but ultimately turns his attention to his textbook and doesn’t speak to you for the rest of the class.
-
You happily shove the encounter out of your mind once the bell rings. You’re perfectly content with the social circle you keep, and you’re not going to let some jock with an inflated sense of self importance change that.
Jason apparently doesn’t do the same because he spends lunch glaring at you from his table. Granted, him shooting disgusted looks in the general direction of the Hellfire Club is a regular occurance, but today he’s making it obvious his ire is directed specifically at you.
“What the fuck is his problem?” Eddie asks.
“I dunno”, you shrug, “he’s just an asshole.”
Eddie peers at him for a moment and you can see a familiar glint of mischief twinkle in his eye. Before you can comment, he’s dramatically pushing himself to his feet and sauntering over to Jason and company.
“What do you want?” Jason demands.
“Couldn’t help but notice you staring”, Eddie says, “just wanted to let you know that I’m flattered, but unfortunately you aren’t really my type. Sorry.”
“Fuck off”, Jason barks, “disgusting freak.”
“Don’t take it too hard”, Eddie says, giving him a joking pat on the shoulder before making his way back over to you. You stifle a laugh at the indignant look plastered on Jason’s face. Eddie shoots you a proud grin and you shake your head affectionately. Jason clearly doesn’t know shit about “guys like Eddie.”
-
The next few days pass by uneventfully. Jason doesn’t try talking to you again, which you’re thankful for. Wednesday starts out normally, you go to history, and Jason roundly ignores your presence. Then you have to go to your next class, which is gym.
Definitely not a favorite of yours, and you don’t even have Eddie in your class to ease the pain. You make it through your warm ups, and then the coach has you split up to practice your volleyball serves. Everything’s going well until Andy, one of Jason’s buddies, approaches you out of nowhere.
“Hey, Henderson”, he says, a smirk on his face, “you think you could score me some weed?”
You look at him, confused. You don’t get involved in Eddie’s side hustle, so you’re not sure why he’d ask you.
“What?”
“Oh, I just figured you probably get a good discount”, he goes on, “I mean, that’s why you let Munson fuck you, right?”
You freeze in shock, your cheeks starting to grow hot. You can’t say you’re used to people making comments about your sex life, especially not to your face.
“I mean, I gotta say”, Andy continues, a cruel glint in his eye, “I didn’t take you for a slut. But come on. Spreading your legs for that freak? Jesus, that’s sad. You know, I’d be happy to show you a good time, since you’re so desperate for it.”
You can only stand there, mouth agape. Sure, you’ve gotten a gross comment or two from a male classmate before, but nothing like this. You certainly have never been called a slut before. You try to formulate a response, but you can’t come up with one. It doesn’t matter anyway, because the coach’s whistle rings out, signaling for you all to hit the changing rooms. You dash out of the gym, more than pleased to be away from Andy.
You hop in the shower in the locker room, take a few moments to shake off the discomfort of the interaction. You’re not entirely successful in that endeavor, because it keeps playing in your mind even after you’re dressed and making your way back into the hallways.
You have no idea where the hell Andy came up with all of that. At this point, it’s common knowledge that you and Eddie are dating, but you don’t know where this idea that you’re sleeping with him for drugs came from. It couldn’t be further from the truth.
“Hey, Beautiful”, you’re distracted from your thoughts by Eddie, who comes happily bounding over to you. His face falls when he sees the look on your face though.
“You okay?” he asks.
“I’m fine”, you say. Something about the idea of telling Eddie about what happened leaves a bad taste in your mouth. It’s embarrassing, and you definitely don’t want him to feel like it’s somehow his fault that Jason and Andy are giving you a hard time.
Besides, it doesn’t matter. Once again, nothing they say about you or Eddie is true. You can’t let some stupid jocks get to you.
-
Honestly, you probably could’ve been okay, if that was the end of it. Unfortunately, things only get worse the next day.
As you make your way to your seat in history, you catch sight of Amber and Samantha, two cheerleaders who like to hang around Jason and the others, whispering as you walk by.
You ignore them, figuring you’re being paranoid and they probably aren’t even talking about you, but when you sit down, Amber turns and looks you right in the eye.
She raises her voice then, clearly intending for you to hear what she’s saying.
“I hope she’s gotten tested”, she tells Samantha, “I can’t imagine what nasty shit the Freak is passing on to her.”
You take a deep breath, turning away from her.
It doesn’t matter, you tell yourself, it’s not true.
“I hope the drugs are worth it,” Samantha says.
You clench your jaw as you slip into your seat. It shouldn’t bother you so much. It's not true, and even if it were, who cares what Amber and Samantha have to say about it?
You’re dating Eddie because you like him. You like the way he’s always joking around and making you laugh, you like that he makes a point of looking out for Dustin and his friends, you like the way he looks at you with those big puppy dog eyes and flashes that mischievous grin. Cheap access to his drugs has never even crossed your mind.
You shouldn’t concern yourself with what they say, you know that, but hearing your name in connection with “slut” grinds at you.
-
During gym class, you do your best to avoid Andy, because everytime he notices you looking at him, he’s making some suggestive gesture at you. You don’t bother telling anyone about it, since Andy’s on the basketball team and the coach would probably take his side.
In the hallway, you accidentally bump into Patrick from the basketball team. You mutter an apology, which he accepts, but his girlfriend gives you the dirtiest look you’ve ever seen.
“Don’t talk to her”, you hear her tell him as you walk away, “she’s a slut.”
-
All of the gossip has put you in a foul mood by the time you get to your second to last period of the day, which happens to be study hall.
Like always, it’s in the cafeteria, with you and a bunch of other students of varying grade levels all sitting around doing your homework. Technically, you’re not supposed to talk, but the teacher in charge is way too underpaid to worry about enforcing that, so you can usually get away with conversation as long as things don’t get too rowdy.
You’re not taking advantage of that today, rather trying your best to distract yourself by actually doing your homework. You’re halfway through summarizing Act 3 of Hamlet when you hear someone say your name.
“Hey, Y/N…”
You’re confused when you look up to find Lucas standing there. Technically, you’ve known him for years, but it’s not like you’ve ever associated with him outside the time he spends with Dustin.
“What?” you ask, a little meaner than you mean to.
“I just thought you should know that…well, I think Jason has been going around saying things about you.”
Of course. You should’ve known Jason was behind this. Jason fucking Carver. Captain of the Basketball Team. Active member of the local church. Son of one of the most respected families in Hawkins. He’s clearly used to people listening to whatever he has to say. Apparently, his ego couldn’t handle you dismissing his comments about your relationship with Eddie.
Jesus, you’d always known he was a bit of an asshole, but this is a level of pettiness you’d never expected, even from him.
“Don’t tell him I told you”, Lucas adds, “but I just thought you should know.”
“Thank you”, you say. You’re definitely glad to have that piece of information.
-
The next day, you storm into Mr. Price’s classroom with righteous fury coursing through your veins. You bypass your desk and instead march straight up to Jason.
He pauses his conversation with Andy and Samantha when he sees you approach.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” You demand.
“Excuse me?” Jason asks.
“I know you’ve been starting rumors about me”, you tell him, “what exactly is your problem, Jason?”
“Me? I don’t have a problem”, Jason insists, “I just think it’s fair the men of Hawkins High get a warning about your ‘extracurricular’ activities.”
You can feel heat flood your cheeks.
“You’re a dick, Jason!” you hiss.
“You know, Y/N”, Jason retorts, “I actually feel bad for you. I mean, no decent man is ever going to want you when they find out you’ve been giving it up to some trailer trash freak.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about”, you snap.
“Believe me, I know exactly what happens to girls who hang around with filthy, Satan-worshiping scumbags”, he says, “and you know what? I’m not going to feel sorry for you when they’re finding your body dumped in the woods.”
“Get over yourself!”
“Whatever”, Jason shakes his head, “I’m not gonna take the attitude from some little slut.”
You’re not fully in control of yourself during what happens next. One second you’re standing there listening to Jason degrade you, the next your fist is connecting with his face.
He stands there, stunned for a moment, before opening his mouth to say something. He doesn’t get the chance though, because Mr. Price gets to it first.
“Ms. Henderson”, he gasps, “Mr. Carver, what on earth is going on here?”
“She punched me in the face”, Jason spits accusingly.
“I-I…I’m sorry I…”
“Enough”, Mr. Price sighs, “I want both of you going to the principal’s office right now!”
-
You’re in deep shit. That much is immediately clear. You punched Jason Carver in the face. It’s not like you even claim it was self defense, since he didn’t do anything physical to you.
“So”, Principal Higgins sighs, “tell me what happened again?”
“She punched me in the face”, Jason hisses.
“Is that true?”
“Yes”, you sigh, “but he called me a slut.”
Principal Higgins rubs his temple, processing the information. Meanwhile, Jason’s gaze is fixed firmly on you, his eyes full of hatred.
“Mr. Carver”, Higgins says finally, “that is not appropriate language to use in regards to another student. You may go back to class, but I better not hear about something like this again.”
Jason stands and marches out of the office, as if he has a right to be pissed about Higgins’ scolding. You suppress the urge to roll your eyes. Of course he gets a slap on the wrist. Nobody wants to punish the star basketball player. You’re certain that if it were anyone else, Eddie or Dustin or one of the other Hellfire Club members, they definitely wouldn’t be getting off so easily.
“Now, as for you Ms. Henderson”, Higgins says, “we do not allow for any sort of violence in this school. However, in all your years at this school, you have never had to receive any form of discipline. So I’m willing to be flexible here. Normally, something like this could be grounds for suspension, but since this is your first time, I say it’s two weeks detention after school starting next Monday. Does that sound fair to you?”
Not really, no, but you can’t say that.
“Yes”, you reply instead.
“Alright. Good. Now go back to class. And Ms. Henderson, I sincerely hope I won’t have to see you in my office again.”
-
You’re in a bad mood when Mr. Price’s class finally ends. You’ve gone your entire high school career without getting a detention and now you’ve ruined that over some pompous dick bag. Speaking of, Jason has been staring daggers at you since you returned to class, and is continuing to do so even now as you’re leaving.
There’s a tense, awkward moment where you both stand there in the hallway, glaring at each other, but it’s broken when the force of a body colliding with your back almost takes you off your feet. Jason is forgotten when a pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind.
“Eddie”, you huff playfully.
“How’d you know it was me?” he asks as you turn around to face him.
“Cause you can’t keep your hands to yourself, Munson”, you reply.
“Don’t blame me”, he replies, “you know I’m powerless to resist your charms.”
Before you can reply he’s pulling you close and beginning to press kisses to your cheek. You know the two of you are making a scene, and on any other day you might be a little self conscious about it, but today you’re just glad to have him around.
His kisses stop suddenly and you realize he’s stopped because he’s finally noticed Jason’s hateful glaring. Unfazed as always, he just flashes a cocky smile and gives Jason a mocking impression of a friendly wave. Jason makes a face like he’s wishing for both you and Eddie’s violent deaths.
“Geez”, Eddie comments, “he looks pissed.”
“Um, yeah, probably because I punched him in the face”, you mutter.
Eddie’s eyes widen in obvious surprise.
“He had it coming”, you add, “he was being a Dick.”
You know you don’t have to defend yourself to Eddie. He knows better than anyone how nasty Jason can be.
“My, my, Fair Lady Henderson”, he smiles, “I dare say that was very Metal of you.”
“Yeah, well, Higgins didn’t think so”, you reply, “I got two weeks detention for it.”
“Ol’ Higgins never did have a sense of humor”, Eddie says, “but from where I’m standing, you’re basically a hero.”
“Really?”
“Hell yeah”, Eddie tells you, “Jason and his goons have been making our lives miserable for years.”
You can’t help but smile at that. You’re definitely not happy with the day’s events, but knowing Eddie’s on your side makes it a little more bearable.
-
On Monday you begrudgingly make your way to Mrs. Cline’s room for your first day of detention.
“Ms. Henderson?” she asks when you walk in.
“Yeah”, you say, a little embarrassed.
“Wonderful”, she says, checking your name off of a list in front of her, “please take a seat.”
There’s only two other people in there with you, so you just pick a seat as far from them as possible and sit down.
“Alright”, Mrs. Cline says, “looks like everyone’s here except…”
“I’m here.”
You look up in surprise to see Eddie come walking into the room.
“Ah, yes, Mr. Munson”, Mrs. Cline says dryly, “what a surprise. Please take a seat.”
You know that Eddie isn’t a stranger to detention, but it’s weird that he didn’t mention anything to you when you’d told him about it. He walks over to the desk next to yours, looking way too pleased for someone who’s about to serve a stint in detention.
“What are you doing here?” you ask.
“Oh, you know, got caught vandalizing the boy’s locker room during free period”, he tells you.
“What? When?”
“Friday”, he says with a satisfied smirk.
You frown. This must’ve happened after the whole Jason thing on Friday which means…
Which means Eddie did it knowing that you were also going to be in detention.
“Eddie”, you say, “did you get detention just because I did?”
“I couldn’t let you have all the fun, could I?” he grins.
You can’t help but smile along with him.
“Mr. Munson, Ms. Henderson”, Mrs. Cline calls from her desk, “no talking during detention.”
Eddie mimes zipping his lips and waits until Mrs. Cline looks away before giving you a playful wink. You stifle a giggle.
You don’t know Jason all that well, but you’re pretty sure he would never dream of landing himself in detention just to keep his girlfriend company. You’ve never seen him make a scene in the middle of the hallways to get her to smile. That’s the thing about this that really gets under your skin. Jason and the others don’t know shit. They think that just because Eddie doesn’t fall into their narrow definition of “acceptable”, he must be scary and dangerous. They think that just because you’re not afraid of him, you must be dirty and corrupted. They’re too close-minded to look closer and see that Eddie is the sweetest boyfriend you could ever imagine, that you spend time with him because he makes you happy. They’d rather write him off as a freak and you off as a slut than accept that maybe their perception is wrong.
You’re far from being a violent person, but you can’t say you regret what you did. Jason deserved to be put in his place, and it’s not like you did any serious damage to him anyway. You’re glad you stood up for yourself, for Eddie. You’ve probably tacked “psycho bitch” onto your already unflattering “whore” reputation, but at this point, you’re not sure you care. If being a freak means you get to spend your days with the love of your life, you will gladly accept that label.
-
After the designated two hours are up, Mrs. Cline dismisses you all.
“Well, that wasn’t so bad”, you say as you and Eddie start making your way through the hall.
“Nah”, he replies, “I mean it’s boring but it’s not bad.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m definitely not planning on having to do this again”, you continue, “but it’s bearable.”
Eddie nods.
“I’m sorry, by the way”, he adds.
“For what?”
“Jason and the others. They’ve been giving you a hard time, right?”
“Yeah”, you shrug, “it is what it is. Not your fault.”
“I mean it kind of is”, Eddie replies, “they’re only doing it because you’re dating me.”
“Eddie”, you say, “Jason’s an asshole, okay? That’s not on you. If he can’t handle our relationship, then fuck him.”
That gets a grin out of Eddie.
“You know, you’re getting to be quite a rabble rouser, Henderson”, he jokes.
“I’m learning from the best”, you tease back.
Eddie’s smile widens. He follows you out to your car and then presses a soft kiss to your lips.
“See you tomorrow, Sweetheart”, he says and then heads off to his van. You watch him go, butterflies still lingering in your tummy from the contact.
If you’d actually had any doubts about Eddie, they would’ve disappeared in that moment. That feeling, it’s a one of a kind thing. No one’s ever managed to give it to you before, and you’re not sure anyone else ever will. You love Eddie. He loves you. He’s sweet, and silly and he treats you right. If your peers want to believe a bunch of bullshit about you two, then let them. You know what you have, and you’re not going to let them ruin it for you.
Grinning to yourself, you hop in your car, put the Black Sabbath tape you borrowed from Eddie into the player and head home.
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gojo-mochi · 7 months ago
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OMG- ur frat boy au 😩
But I def head cannon that law even though he is more reclusive than the other frat boys he does occasionally participate in group tutoring and has you sit next to him and when you start to tease him during the tutoring he would start to tease you back but actually like finger fuck you or play with your clit as a punishment for making him distracted while he's supposed to be getting his service hours in.
I also hc that for Ace ( my love 😍) would absolutely 100 fucking percent would tutor you or your tutoring him in the library in the middle of the night when no one is around and is having you read out loud for him and he's absolutely going ham in your pussy with his fingers and he makes you squirt on the textbooks making them get all wet and dirty with your juices so he makes you go up to the librarian and report that you accidentally got a book wet.
Jdbfwhebwhh- I fucking love ur frat boy au tho like 😩 I would actually do anything for men who are frat boys like-
Sorry for the late response! I wanted to write something for this and things kept piling up BUT i'm here now and thank you so much for liking my frat boys! Heeh ٭(•﹏��)٭
Law is so mean!! So, so mean god… But he likes it (secretly) when you tease him by wearing those short miniskirts, and wearing no panties during your tutoring session!?! You were def asking for him so don’t cry to him when he’s keeping you on edge the whole time and you better answer his question correctly to show that he’s a good tutor or else…..(ノ´ з `)ノ
THAT SO DIRTY ACEEE RAHHHHH, god.. He such like a fuckboy (in my story at least) JUST THAT puppydog sweet boy look with a fuckboy personality just hit so gooooooddd ughhhhh thank you for giving me these prompts! Hope you enjoy the fic! (◕ㅅ◕✿)
CW: Toxic! Law and Ace (My version of them as fratboys! Not canon-adjecent! I love these sweet boys), mention of cheating, manipulation, P/V, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, squirting, voyeurism.
Word Count: 7k
A/N:THank you so much to @kazieai for being my beta reader!!!  ( ˘ ³˘)♥ Little surprise at the end of Ace eheh <3
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Tutoring Session with Law: 
Group study session means less time he has to waste actually tutoring since he can just cross off a lot of extra hours by helping everyone at once. He would never admit it out right to you or anyone for that matter, but you were his favorite student by far. Not necessarily because you were a good student or anything like that. It was because in every session he had with you, you always wore the shortest skirt paired with something low-cut so when you lean over the table to ask a stupid question, his eyes would get a nice view of your chest. By the third session you had with him, you forego wearing a bra and just let your nipples get all perky from the nice cool library’s air conditioning. 
He really punished you the first time you did that, pulling and tweaking at your little nubs until you were crying from oversensitivity. Only to soothe away your cries with his skillful tongue and fingers digging deep in your pussy. You loved it though, teasing Law to the point where he lets go of his restraints and just bends you over the table and starts punishing you. It’s a good stress reliever for both you and him, of course.
Law almost denied your request to join him and other students in group studying, knowing that you’ll try to pull some kind of dirty trick while he’s trying to finish his service hours. Though once you gave him your sweetest puppy dog eyes, he caved in pretty quickly. And to his surprise, you showed up wearing something that actually covers your skin and wasn’t just some torn cloth marketed as “clothes”. A simple turtleneck sweater with a matching skirt and silk stockings to top it off. 
Law eyes you warily when you plop down on the seat next to him, but says nothing to you and focuses on the other students instead. You pouted at him and pretended to write down some notes or read the textbook you were assigned. Absent-mindedly flipping thru the pages, barely paying any attention to the words. You hear Law sigh a lot during the session, pencil tapping against the wooden table when he sees one of the other students typing away at his phone under the table. 
His other student doodling in his notebook, not paying attention to anything Law was trying to teach them. It was you, Law, and two other male students all huddled together in a corner of the library. While he could just pretend to teach them and get this session over with, he wasn’t sure if his hours for this would count if half of his students were gonna fail or get worse grades after his tutoring. At the very least, he knew you would retain some of his teachings, you knew you would be punished if you didn’t after all. 
And it wasn’t the fun kind of punishment either, the one where you were left wobbling with red cheeks afterwards. No, if you end up failing a quiz or your grades drop even a little, Law would either ignore your attempts to reach out to him or worse. He would openly flirt with someone in front of you, most likely one of the girls from the sororities his fraternity would often host parties with. He would prance around with one of those girls strapped to his arm, nodding and using his fake smile on them. Knowing how much your blood boils when those girls start pressing their boobs on his bicep, that was your job, goddamn it!
You took your anger out on your studying, furiously writing down notes, huffing and puffing through your textbook, and staring holes in your teacher's skull during lecture. All so you could get one of the top grades during the test next week and so you could flip off the sororitie’s girls when Law publicly praised you and you pulled him in for a steamy kiss. No one was really sure if the two of you were actually dating or fucking around. Whatever kind of sick game the two of you were tangled in, the other frat members knew not to fuck around with you. Law has special access to the chemical lab at the university and he made vague threats about poisoning his brothers if they tried anything with you. 
You rolled your eyes when you found out about it, but secretly it made your heart skip a beat, seeing how possessive he would get over you. You could see now by the way his brows were furrowed in that Law was getting more than annoyed. You decided to fuck with him even further, by inching your leg over to his side. Slipping out of your shoes and going over to Law’s side and nudging his ankle softly. Law glanced at you from his side vision but you pretended to be writing down something in your notebook instead, not paying him any mind. 
He pinched the bridge of his nose and took in a deep breath, deciding to focus on the other students first. Law grabbed one of the heaviest books on the table and slammed it down hard on the wooden table. The thump made everyone else jump a little, all eyes were on Law now who just glared back unamused. 
“Now that I got everyone’s attention, I’ll be honest and say that I don’t give a fuck about any of you.” He takes a quick glance your way as he said that but focuses back on the boys. One of them tried to open their mouth to speak back but Law cut him off. “That being said, we all are here for a reason, and my reason is that I’m forced to get service hours or my lab privileges are revoked.”
He grabbed a pen in his hand and point it at the male students, “And trust me, if my lab privileges on campus get revoked, I will find a way to set up a new one, and I think the first test subjects I’ll use, are the dumb-fuck students who fucked me over.” He said in a casual tone, twirling his pen around his fingers, the students gulped nervously just now noticing the tattoos on his hands. You suppressed giggling at this tense moment, feeling your heart flutter whenever Law gets like this. 
You quietly scoot closer to him, rubbing your foot up higher on his calves and resting a hand on his thigh. Law continued on like nothing was happening, “So, I suggest for the sake of all our sanities, that you two actually get to studying.” He leans back in his chair and spreads his legs apart wide, knocking your leg back a bit. You pout at this but it didn’t deter you, moving your hand further down and squeezing his bulge a little bit. Already hard and poking through his jeans, you bit your lips at the realization. 
Scooting your chair even closer until it was right next to Law’s chair, the other two boys were too scared to pay attention to you or your antics. Law’s lip twitched but he pressed on forward, instructing the boys to open their own textbook and start listening to his lecture. While you do love his voice, hearing him drone on about molecules and compounds didn’t really help make you wetter. 
You decide to get bolder and unzip Law’s jeans very slowly. Your head turns to face him as you do, pretending that you’re really listening to his lecture but in reality you just want to see if he could maintain a straight face while you slip your hands inside his pants. His eyes were pointed at the two other students, glaring harshly making sure that they were taking down the right notes. With his legs spread wide, you had easy access to fiddle around with his bulge. 
“Wrong, redraw the structure of that compound again, you missed an oxygen in there.” Law drones out, flicking some eraser shavings over to the student’s paper. All the while your hands dips down lower and lower, cupping his balls in your warm hands and playing around with them in the way you know he loves. Law grunts softly in response but does not take your hand away, you bump shoulders with him and pout. 
“Law, can you look at my notes too? I’m not sure I did it right…” You whined, squeezing his balls a little harder to make sure he turns his attention to you. This time Law grabs your wrist firmly and yanks your hands out of his pants. His eyes turned to you, and you flinched back a bit at the heavy glare. 
Perhaps you went a bit too far this time with your antics, he turns his body towards you and looks over your notes, all the while his hand still holds on to your wrist. He points over some areas you should’ve written down more information and silently moves his hands off your wrist and down onto your thigh. You looked down at his hand but he snapped his other hand in front of your face; “Oy, pay attention, ya?” 
You flinch back a bit as his hand inches further down your thigh, his long fingers tracing around the edge of your skirt. His golden eyes piercing down your soul right to your pussy as he makes you rewrite some notes down before turning his attention back on the other students. You fidget under his cold hand, causing him to pinch your skin lightly. A silent order to keep you still and the others unassuming. 
The grip you had on your pen was shaking a little by now, his hand getting bolder with each passing second and he wasn’t even looking at you when his fingers finally reached out and poked at your panties. Well, he would have poked at your panties, if you were actually wearing any today…
You fought back a yelp as his finger pushed past your walls a bit, his nails scraping against your softness. Meanwhile, Law had to maintain a straight face once he realized that you weren’t wearing anything down there today. Oh, now you were in for it…
Law wasted no more time as his skillful fingers plunged right back in, pointer and middle finger sliding down your slick walls, as his thumb gets placed right on top of your clit. Gently rubbing it in small circular motions. With just enough pressure for you to feel it but not enough for you to fully enjoy it. You tried to buck up your hips to get more friction but Law just pinch your clit in response, making you hiccup out loud, having everyone's attention on you. 
You shy away from their gazes, your face heating up especially from Law’s eyes on you. You cough awkwardly and point to your water bottle; “Heh, just a dry throat.. I’m alright.” Your shaky hands grabbed the bottle and you chugged down the rest of the liquid inside as the other students went back to their notes and Law’s fingers went back inside your cunt. 
Only his middle finger this time, Law slowly sinks his long digit in and out of your pussy, covering his finger in your sweet slick. All the while, he maintained a bored expression on his face and actually started tutoring the other students. They were whipped into gear now, asking questions and asking for help on parts they weren’t sure on. This session might turn out great at this rate, but you couldn’t really give a shit. 
You wanted Law to give you more attention, more friction, you wanted his cock inside of you now. Or at least more of his fingers, he was hitting the right spot but it wasn’t enough for you, barely enough for you to feel that spark of pleasure each time he curled his finger in. You bit in the inside your cheek as you dared to bring one hand down under your skirt and start playing with your clit yourself. Of course, Law did see you doing this, but he did nothing to punish you for it at the moment. Instead, he actually plunged in another finger inside your tight walls, scissoring them outward as your own fingers start to play with your clit. 
You knew that a punishment was gonna come sooner or later, but the pleasure felt so good to care at this point. Your own fingers started to speed up along with Law, and just when you were finally reaching that point of pure ecstasy, he pulled his fingers out, causing a needy whine to slip past your lips.
Everyone’s head snapped towards you, Law calls out to you with a faint smirk painted across his face, “Oy? Everything alright there?” He leans into your space, smearing his slick-covered on your forehead as he pretends to check for a fever. Your face heats up even more at the contact, wanting to slap his hand away but not wanting to cause any more suspicion. You meekly nod your head while glaring sideways at Law, he pulls his hand away with a sigh and motions for everyone to start working again. 
“Alright, the library closes in 30 minutes so everyone listen up. I’m gonna go over the most important parts you need to know for the upcoming exam.” Law snaps his fingers and holds out his notebook for everyone to see. “Let’s make the most of our time now, so we never have to see each other again, yeah?”
His eyes gaze over everyone, gauging their reaction and seeing if they were actually paying attention to him. You were still glaring at him but at least your eyes were on him as well. He nods and leans back in his chair, holding up his notebook in one hand as he casually flips it easily by maneuvering his fingers around the pages.
His other hand went right back to its rightful spot, in between your legs, not that you were complaining. You may grumble or whine about it later to him in private but as of now, the need to be fucked overrides all your other senses. With a few taps on your thighs, you readily spread your legs apart for him. 
“...the most important thing is to remember the oxygen count…” Law rambled on and on, his voice drowning out the small wet plapping noises he was making underneath the table. He made sure to keep eye contact with you on occasion as well, not letting your eyes close or wander away from his lecture. 
Your own hands balled up into tight fists on your lap as you desperately try to keep calm and still while Law finger-fucked you under the table. His thumb sporadically swipes at your swollen clit, just to keep you tethering on that sweet euphoric edge. 
“..you can skip remembering all the structures if you’re better at remembering the formula for them, just bullshit it enough and the professor will go easy on you…” 
You dug your nails into the palm of your hands, your thighs shaking around Law’s hand as he added another finger inside. His thumb picked up the pace and you slowly felt your self-control slipping away. 
“Well, that’s about covers most of it, does anyone have any questions?” Law draws out, looking around the table and stopping at you. His eyes glinting at your nervous face and carefully watching for your reaction. “Y/N? You seem like you have a question you want to ask, no need to be all shy now~” He teased a little at the end, and now everyone’s eyes were on you. Your mouth flounders around a bit, as you try to find your voice. 
“I-um don’t really hav-ahhiee!” 
Law being the prick that he is, made sure to pinch on your clit right in the middle of your sentence. Making you scream out loud, your scream echoing in the quiet library air. Your whole face burns with embarrassment as you hear Law quietly snicker to himself at your side. The other two students look at you with a mixture of confusion and redness on their faces. 
Before you could try to explain yourself, the librarian pops out of nowhere with an angry tick marked on her face. She points to her watch and clears her throat loudly in annoyance; “While it is nice to see students finally studying for once in here, I must warn you that the library closed around 10 mins ago. So please kindly pack your stuff and head out.”
She clicks her heels together and gives the group one last glare before huffing and leaving. 
“Uh.. thanks for the session, dude. I’ll just head out now.”
“Yeah… me too.”
The two male students quickly gathered up their stuff, ready to bounce from the tutoring session. Law waves them off after giving them one last order, “Don’t forget to sign the paper to let the school know that I tutored you, cause if you don’t, I’ll come find you..” 
They both nod in unison and scuttle off, while you smack your face in your hands. Letting out an embarrassed groan over the events that all occurred. Ready to get up and go scream about it later in the comfort of your bed. However, Law had other ideas as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his chest. 
A hand on your cheek as he hooks his thumb inside your mouth, forcing you to look directly in his golden eyes. 
“Hold up, you’re not thinking about leaving this place while you’re still this messy… were you?” To emphasize his point, his other hand comes down under your skirt to swipe up on your wet cunt. Collecting some of your warm cream on his fingertips and stuffing them in your open mouth forcefully. Mixing your own cream with your spit on his fingers for a while, wiping the excess on your lips and cheeks as he pulls out his fingers. 
He gathers up all the items left on the table and unceremoniously dumped them into his backpack. Slapping you on the ass and leading you to the bathroom for some extra tutoring.
“Guess, I’ll have to teach you to clean up after yourself too. Be grateful, ya? I don’t just do this for anyone.”
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Tutoring Session with Ace:
“Ac-Acee-hnggg We ca-can’t keep doing this.” 
You attempted to keep your voice as low as you can, while being pounded from behind that is. Ace’s large and warm hands gripping tightly on your waist, his thumbs digging into your sides, leaving marks for the future. Your incessant whining only fueled Ace to bury his cock deeper inside you, his hips slamming against your ass with each pounding. 
The chair you were gripping on for balance starts to wobble under the increasing intensity, your nails dig into the wood for any semblance of purchase. Leaving scratch marks that will surely get you in trouble if the librarian ever finds them. Ace bends down, breath tickling the back of your neck, his hot tongue licking up a stripe of sweat beading down your skin.
You bite back a moan, eyes darting around to see if anyone was passing by to catch you in this sinful act. Though with the pleasure building up inside of you at a rapid pace, you find it harder and harder to keep your eyes open. And just as you were about to cum, Ace bit down on your shoulder, hard.
The stinging pain went straight down to your core as you cum almost violently, your pussy clenching down on Ace’s cock which was still buried deep inside your womb. He insisted on not wearing a condom since, “It doesn’t feel good, and none of the sizes fit him anyway.” 
So, all of his cum spilled inside, filling you up to the brim as your legs shake underneath. Your head falls down on the seat’s cushion, while the rest of your body is being held up by Ace. He licks at the wound on your shoulder, lapping up some blood droplets that were seeping out. You groan when his licks start to get more and more sloppy, much akin to that of a dog. Specks of spit start hitting your cheek as he starts to shake his head side to side with his tongue still hanging out. 
You hiss at him and turn your head to look over your shoulder as you try to push him away. He laughs at you with a wide smile, leaning back and pulling his cock out and watching his seed begin to spill out as he does so. He grabs you by the waist and tugs you back into his chest. Spinning around so that he could sit on the chair with you snug on his lap. He spreads your legs open with his own, turning his head around as he searches for something on the ground. 
“Ah! There you are!” 
He smiles as he bends down to pick an article of clothing off the floor. He shows off your own cute pair of panties right front of your face, leaving you dumbfounded for a second. His smile grows mischievous like a cat that just got into something they shouldn't have. 
Ace hums to himself as he spreads your legs wider and reaches down with one hand and parts open your pussy with two fingers. Some of the cum starts to spill out, coating his fingers in the process but Ace happily purrs at the sight, bringing the panties down as well to wipe up his mess. 
“Ace!”
You whispered-yelled in both embarrassment and a bit of anger, you wiggle on his lap, hands pushing on his biceps to try to get away from him. Your efforts were useless as Ace just continued on cleaning up his cum dripping out of your sensitive cunt without a care in the world. Even humming a little as he does so; 
“...and the girls say, Save a horse, ride a cowboy..”
You sort of regret showing him that song, he loves to sing it especially when you’re riding on top of him. With a few more swipes up and down your pussy and a few bites from you on his biceps, the task was finally done. Your now cum-soaked panties were once again brought right up to your face as Ace showed off his work. 
“Ace, what the fu-mmph!”
Just as you were about to start to scold Ace, he unceremoniously shoves your ruined panties into your open mouth, gagging you in the process. Your slick and Ace’s cream started coating your tongue, letting you fully taste the sinful mixture of your actions. You had enough and ripped your panties out of your mouth and smacked it on Ace’s face, which he didn’t really seem to mind. 
“Ow, ow, Ok, I’m so-OW!”
Ace yelped and jumped up in pain, pushing you down to the ground in the process. Holding his crotch with both hands as he looked at you with teary puppy eyes. 
“Sweetheart! How could you hurt me in my most precious area like that?”
He rubs his crotch a little and looks down at it with a heavy sadness in his eyes, while you roll yours in return.You go over to slap him hard on the back as you begin looking for other pieces of your clothing scattered across the floor. Not your first time being fully naked in the back of the library but you were already caught once and you weren’t looking forward to being caught a second time.
Thankfully, it was just another member from his fraternity who caught you two. A sort of mean-looking guy, you think his name was “Lawrence”? or something close to that. He’s a fellow tutor but you really haven’t crossed paths with him often, he usually keeps to himself. You remember at that time you had your back against the wall while Ace held you up, fucking you against the wall. 
So you were the first one to notice “Lawrence” come around the corner, the only look of surprise on his face was his eyes widening a little before he gave you a little smirk. Leaning on the bookshelf, with a smug little smile on his face as Ace kept pounding inside of you. You tried to tell Ace that someone was here but your moans kept cutting you off and Ace was too pussydrunk to care at that point. 
You hid your face in Ace’s shoulder, embarrassed to be found in such a position. You peek over at your fellow tutor, finding “Lawrence” rolling his eyes at your shyness and getting off the bookshelf and taking a book out. He waves goodbye to you, and leaves soon after. You told Ace what happened afterwards, but he just said, “Oh yeah, us frat boys do that all the time. We like to share sometimes, ya know?”
You didn’t know and you weren’t sure if you wanted to know more. You shook your head free of these memories, patting your skirt down and making sure that your shirt was buttoned correctly. Now that you were fully dressed, just without your panties, you were ready to continue on with this “tutoring session”. You hear the sound of shuffling behind you and then a heavy weight on your shoulder as Ace sets his head down and begins to whine in your ear.
His arms snaking around your waist and pulling you back into his naked chest, at least he put his shorts back on this time.
“Come on, puppy-boy, time for us to actually study.”
Ace whines ever harder at your statement, wrapping his arms around you tighter. “But,  Baby girl!” You shake your head and start to move with him still wrapped around you, step by step as Ace drags his feet behind you.
“Firecracker, please let’s just talk this out. We can study even more once my balls get emptied again!”
You ignored him, walking over to a bookshelf and browsing the lines of books for an easy studying one. 
“My love, my goddess, my only one, the one that holds my heart, my soul, and my cock and balls.”
Ace gets closer to your ear with each nickname, you felt your cheeks heat up at the sweeter names, until he said that last one and you showed him that you really did hold his balls in your hands. Squeezing lightly as a warning, which only causes him to moan and start grinding on you instead. 
You squeezed harder and harder until he got the hint and backed off, with that weight off your shoulder, you grabbed the book and turned to Ace. Pointing to the book with an exasperated look on your face, “Listen, I need your grades to at least go up a few percent. I am literally about to get fired from this job, if they don’t.”
Ace opens his mouth to retort with something lewd again but quickly shuts it once he sees how serious you are. He nods softly, and sits down on the ground, tilting his hat back and looking up at you with a beaming smile.
Ace held his hand up like an honor scout and looked clearly into your eyes as he said, “I promise, I’ll try to learn something this time and pass the next exam with flying colors.”
You were still doubting him a little but decided this was the best you were gonna get, so you plopped down in front of Ace. Opening the book and telling Ace to read the passage out loud and tell you what the theme and underlying tone of that passage was. Ace scoots around you and places you on his lap, which causes your eyebrows to furrow but he holds his hands up again this time in mock defense.
He starts reading the passage out slowly, his smooth voice lulling you to a sense of calm in his lap. You settled in rather quickly, leaning back on his chest, your eyes following along as he spoke. After he was done and you asked your questions, you were surprised to find his answers free of any innuendos and contained actual full-fledged thoughts. 
He always acted like a dumb frat boy or a horny puppy so this side of him was new to you. The two of you kept on reading passage after passage, with your questions getting harder with each passage to test Ace’s knowledge and to see if he was still paying attention or not. He passed every question with flying colors, remembering every small detail and characters that appeared, and your heart fluttered with each answer he gave. This new side of Ace was somehow more attractive than his fuckboy persona. But you knew that Ace wasn’t the type of guy to date for long, you heard stories of broken-hearted girls with his name tattooed across their chest. 
A new pair of voices jolted you from these thoughts, as you strained your ears to try to make out the words. 
“Why are these books so far back?”
“I think it’s because no one really borrows them, even most of the professors don’t even know what half of these books mean.”
“Geez, and some of these are ancient too, almost as ancient as Professor Rayleigh, don’t you think?”
“Heh… yeah, let’s just find the damn book and go, it's kinda creepy back here…”
The sound of footsteps gets closer and closer to you, and you start to panic a little. While you both were clothed, it was still pretty obvious that you and Ace fucked, with the dishelved hair, the dried drool on your chin, and numerous lipstick stains and bite marks that litter across each of your bodies. 
You made a move to get up quietly, only to be pulled back down with an “Oof” escaping your lips. You turned your head back to glare at Ace who made a shushing motion with his finger, with his arm securely holding you down on his lap. 
“Wh-?”
Ace holds a hand over your mouth as you attempt to question him, holding you down even tighter as you try to wiggle out of his hold. He leans in to whisper in your ear, as your feeble attempts to escape proving no match to his strength. 
“Hold on, baby girl, take a listen. I think they’re really close to us now.”
You glared at him harder but stopped your struggle and listened closely. Hearing the sound of sneakers sliding along carpet and books being picked up and flipped thru, the two newcomers were browsing the aisle right next to yours. 
“If we try to move now, they’ll definitely catch us. So, let’s stay put alright, love?”
You hate to admit it, but he was right, there was no way you both could sneak over to get your stuff and sneak past them quietly at this point. You could only hope that they find the book they’re looking for in that aisle and leave quickly. You sigh and settle back in Ace’s lap, his hand leaves your mouth and rests on your stomach. 
The two of you fall quiet, listening to the shuffling of books and small murmurs from the two other students. The heat radiating from Ace’s body was pleasant against the chilly library’s air. Making you snuggle even closer to Ace, wanting to soak up every last bit of warmth he has to offer. 
Ace chuckles and wraps his arms around you, flexing his biceps as he does so. Swaying you from side to side softly, resting his chin on your shoulder, his hair tickling your face. He turns to give you a chaste kiss on the cheek, and it is with moments like these, that really make your heart flutter. Then, you start wondering what it would be like, if you and Ace made it official.
No more sneaking around, no more pretending not to be jealous when you see him with another girl at a party, no more keeping your friends up at night wondering if he really likes you or just your body. If you just bit the bullet finally and asked him what he really thought of you and this ‘relationship’. Does he hold the same feelings you do? Or is this really all just a game to him and you're just another side piece in his lineup.
While all these thoughts swirl inside your head, you didn’t notice how one of Ace’s hands started slipping lower and lower on your body, lingering on top of your thigh for a few moments. Ace carefully watched for a reaction but seeing as you were still lost in your head, he took this as a sign to keep going. Gently picking up the edge of your skirt and moving it upwards, inch by inch until more of your thighs are exposed and he could just barely see some of your pussy if he angled his head correctly.
You suddenly felt more chilly than before, snuggling backwards to find that warmth again, your mind still stuck in the clouds only to be shot awake by a finger swiping up your cunt. A hand was already on your mouth before you could scream, “What the fuck?!”
Ace shushes you, his grip tight on your face but not to the point of actually hurting you. 
“It’s just me, little flame, it’s just me…”
Ace nuzzles your cheek as an attempt to calm you down, while his finger still inside your cunt starts to wiggle around a little. You breath in roughly thru your nose, trying to express your anger at this ordeal. Ace only chuckles in return, softly calling you “Cute..” and continuing on. Swiping his thumb up and down on your still sensitive clit, making your legs jolt out a bit. You muffle out curses and squeeze your eyes shut, not wanting Ace to win this battle. But damn, he really knows how to use his fingers…
“I just want to thank you for today, my flame…”
“You seem so stressed out lately and this is my way of showing just how much I love you..”
Bullshit.. You knew what he was spewing out was just lies.. But you can’t deny how his voice affects you when it gets like this. All soft and smooth, filled with so much affection you could drown in it. A sickeningly sweet pool of lies, with you in the middle, slowly sinking down and down with each interaction you have together with him. And the worst part is, that you know you could easily just leave, get out of the pool and go find someone better… someone who might actually love you for you. 
But you don’t, you let Ace pull you in with his charms and stupid smile. You embrace the lies and pretend that in the end when it is all over and you’re alone in bed at night, that it doesn’t matter and you’re not crying. So, you pretend to struggle a bit more, pretend not to enjoy his cute little nicknames that he only reserves for you and none of his other fuck toys. 
Your hips begin to move up and down as Ace’s thumb starts rubbing small and quick circles on your clit, moving his fingers in and out in that rhythm that drives you wild. Muttering filthy praises in your ear as his movement gets faster and rougher, you moans subdued in his palm. Your legs jerking and twitching as you get close to that blinding pleasure that Ace always brings you to. 
With a final curl of his fingers he pushes you over the edge, taking his hand away from your mouth as you scream out, only to push his fingers down your throat as your body spasm and squirt all over yourself. Drool spills down your chin as you gag on Ace’s fingers, panting heavily as your body calms back down. You grabbed Ace’s wrist and pulled it away from you, so you can finally breathe normally again.
“What? You’re not gonna help me clean up?”
He brings up his slick-covered hands to your face, which you promptly slaps away and shush him for being too loud. 
Ace gets up and laughs, pulling you up with him. 
“Hey, hey, don’t worry! Those two left a while ago while you were zoning out about something in that pretty little head of yours.” 
He dusts off his pants and stretches his arm over his head, you turn to look away from him with an embarrassed blush flushing your face. You check the time on your phone and sigh, noting that it was almost library closing hours. 
“Come on, it’s time to go, the library is about to close.” You signal to Ace to get going, as you look around for anything you may have dropped. 
“We have to be fast about it, I also want you to check out the book to read later, alright?”
“Because, I really really need you to ace this test.” 
Ace snorts at that, “Hah, ace this test, good one, little flame.” He slaps you on the shoulder hard enough to make you stumble forward a little. 
“I mean it, Ace! Seriously, please just-”
“I got it, really I do! But, I might need some motivation during the late night, you know? Like a cheeky little photo to cheer me up?” 
You glare at him through your sideview, turning on your heel and stomping over to get your items, readjust your clothes, and fix your makeup if need be. You do some breathing exercises to calm yourself down, while you pack everything up in your bag and Ace’s bag, using some wet wipes you have on hand to clean yourself up as well. 
Ace comes sauntering by, soon after you were done with everything, holding the book up high in his hands proudly. You sigh and cross your arms at him, ready to get the night over with, your legs barely managing to keep you upright and walking after everything you've been through. 
You throw his bag his way, and walk forward first. Leading the way to the front of the library. Zipping up your jacket all the way up while walking so you could hide marks Ace may have left on you that you didn’t catch earlier. As you were reaching the front, you were surprised to see a student working the front desk instead of the usual cranky old lady. 
You’ve seen this student before, I mean she was gorgeous after all, you think she was in architecture or something to do with history. She usually hangs out with another beautiful girl with orange hair. Her blue eyes catch yours and you gulp  nervously, feeling like your entire being was being stripped down by her gaze. 
You steel yourself and walk right up to the desk with Ace coming up right behind you. Before you could say a word, Ace drops the book down on the desk and starts jogging off. 
“Hey! Sorry, I just got a text from my bros, they need me for something, so I gotta go! Just give me the book tomorrow or whatever, catch you later!” 
He leaves out the door before you could say anything or catch him, leaving you alone with the hot librarian lady. Somehow you couldn’t bring yourself to lock eyes with her so you just awkwardly cough, keeping your eyes on the book as you spoke. 
“Ah..um, I would like to check out this book please. Just for a week should be fine ... .thank you.”
You watch as her perfectly manicured hands take the book away and flip it open to scan the barcode inside the cover. You fiddle with the hem of your sleeves, too shy to watch her work. You hear her flip a few more pages and hum; “Interesting…”
You felt a small tap on your own hand and looked up to find her showing the book to you, opened to a random page, a random page with very suspicious wet spots on it…
Oh..
Oh no…
Oh my fucking god, you were gonna kill Ace then yourself. That if you don’t burn in shame and embarrassment right now. You sputter and flop around to come up with a believable excuse for those stains. 
“O-oh! Um gosh! Really sorry I think I might have dropped my water bottle on the table while we were reading, heh. I-I mean, yeah! I definitely knocked over a bottle of water when reading that book…” 
You trail off, realizing how high pitched your voice was, how Ace didn’t even bother to hide his kiss marks or love bites before he left, and how stupid you probably sound to her right now. Your shoulder slump down as your voice fades off to a quiet apology. She chuckles at this, a light and airy sound that makes your heart start racing hearing it. She catches your eyes again and this time you can’t look away. 
“Don’t worry darling, I know how to keep a secret.” She winks at you, and goes to flip the page back to the cover. Her finger swipes at a wet corner, which she then brings that same finger up to her mouth and licks it. All the while keeping eye contact with you. Your mouth drops wide at the sight, inciting another chuckle out of her. 
The next few moments go by in a flash as your brain tries to process what just happened. You're brought back to reality as she hands you back the book with a little card sticking out the top. 
“As much as I would love to keep playing with you, the library has pretty strict closing times, so I must ask you to leave.” 
You nod dumbly, shoving the book under your arm and stumbling your way towards the exit. She waves you off with such a pretty smile on her face. You walk outside in the crisp cold nighttime air and breathe in heavily. 
This was one hell of a night, you decided that all your brain cells were spent today so you would sleep on today’s event and think about it tomorrow. 
As you were walking back home, the little card that was in the book fell out. You bend down to grab it again and as you do, you read what’s on the card. 
“XXX-XXXX If you want to have a even better time <3 ~ Robin”
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hesawifebeaterdanusethegun · 2 months ago
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Being with Herr König Part 1:
Okay here's part 1, I know it's not very good but writing is keeping me sane today so without further ado here is my unnamed König x reader fic. I might refine it and add to it later but I'm high and feeling bold so I'm just posting it without a proofreader because fuck it. I also added links at the bottom to parts 2-5, to be updated as the story goes on.
You met Herr König when you applied for a job at the resort. He was very polite (and very handsome, you had to admit) and you instantly liked him, but sparks didn't fly at first. König hired you for the morning shift at the hotel's front desk and things went well for the first few weeks, with him checking in on you periodically.
You were a great worker, always on time (a quality Herr König valued greatly), smart, funny, and a little... quirky. He couldn't always read you like he could with other people, your moods and the meaning of some of your words a mystery to him, but this enchanted him even more, he found it exciting and very sexy if he were being honest with himself.
He realized he had feelings for you when the thought occurred to him that you were the only person he knew who genuinely lit up when he entered a room, you liked him. You liked him. You actually enjoyed spending time with him and talking to him. Though he could be charming when he needed to be, he wasn't used to this kind of reaction, people didn't usually take to him very quickly. But you did, and now that he'd noticed he paid closer attention when you interacted with each other.
He is nothing if not methodical in his thinking and reasoning, and that's how he approaches relationships as well. Carefully at first until he knows what he wants, but as soon as he knows what he wants he always gets it, and this includes you. He needed you to be in his life, needed to be closer to you.
The next morning he came into the hotel to see you. He knew you were still learning German, and was careful to use English in your conversations. He asked if you needed any tutoring, and told you that he'd be happy to help with your German if you wanted him to.
He couldn't help the grin that spread over his face when you said you'd love his help. From that day on, every week he would meet you after your shift and give you a ride home (you generally walked to work, you didn't live far from the resort) and spent an hour or so helping you. Eventually this turned into a few times a week, and he stayed longer and longer, your language lessons often forgotten in favor of conversation and just quiet time spent together.
Before you knew it he was driving you home after every shift, often showing up early to see you while you worked, and spending most of his evenings with you. The man was head over heels for you, and spent as much time as possible around you. He perked up when he heard your name mentioned, he thought about you all the time, he dreamt about you. And you were just as crazy about him, though you didn't show it. He was your boss and your friend, sure, but that's all he was. You didn't think he'd ever be interested in anything more anyway. So you continued as you were for a while, both spending as much time in the other's presence as possible, not knowing that your feelings were reciprocated.
And then it was like a switch flipped in König's brain, he had dreamt of you again, and woke up with an ache in his chest that was almost unbearable. He needed to be with you. Right now. But that was silly, what would you think of him, showing up at your apartment in the middle of the night to tell you he loved you? That was something they do in bad movies, not something a scientist and a logical man would do.
He was in his car before these doubts even formed in his head, he didn't care what time it was, he had to tell you. As he drove he rehearsed what he would say. How could he put how he felt into words? König sped to your apartment and rushed from his car to your front door, stumbling briefly over the stairs on his way. He took a deep breath, filled with exhilaration and a bit of guilt at waking you at this hour, and knocked three times, hard.
It took a minute for it to register in your mind what had woken you. Was someone at the door? It was 3 in the morning, who could be knocking on your door? You rolled over in bed, reaching for the lamp on your nightstand, fumbling to turn it on. Finally, after knocking several things to the floor, you found the cord and pulled it, illuminating your small bedroom.
You yawned widely and made your way sleepily to the door.
He waited on the other side, heart beating out of his chest, palms sweating, near hyperventilating. You opened the door to see an uncharacteristically disheveled König standing in front of you.
Before either of you said a word his hands slid around your waist and gently pulled you against him, his lips on yours almost hungrily. This was all the encouragement you needed to throw your arms around his neck and moan into the kiss, pulling him into your apartment. You had trouble believing this was real, that he was really here, and that he wanted you.
When his tongue swiped at your lips, asking for entrance, you realized it was real, and you weren't just having another dream. Your lips parted for him, deepening the kiss before you both had to come up for air.
"Well hello to you too," you whispered breathlessly, a small grin spreading across your face.
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
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chericherixo · 1 year ago
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Could you do like a fluff fic about Mattheo bugging y/n during class? But like he's just being silly goofy and eventually y/n humours him once they're given time to work. Thank you!!
Ofc!! I love that thank you :) I kind of got carried away so I'll probably write a sequel, and I'm sorry if Mattheo isn't as edgy as he usually is but hope you like it!
Danish [fluff]
- Classmates/Acquaintances - Reader's house not mentioned --Read the Request Above!--
It was your first class of the day, and you were already feeling your lack of sleep from the night before. You trudged to your seat and set your books down on the corner of the table. The only good thing that you could see was Mattheo's absence.
You felt relived as you bent over to grab a pencil from your bag. When you sat back up though, Mattheo was sitting annoyingly close, with a stupid smirk on his face.
"Dammit! When did you get here?" You yelped, startled.
"I just sat down, were you worried about me?"
"Never." You said disgusted and turned your attention to the front of the room as the professor walked in. He started talking about transfigurations, but try as you might to focus, you couldn't help but notice Mattheo's shameless stare towards you.
You snapped your head to look at him, "Can you stop fucking staring at me? Is there something wrong?" You whispered harshly,
"Sorry." He said but didn't turn his gaze away. You scoffed and shifted in your seat uncomfortably. After a few moments, he whispered in your ear.
"What'd you have for breakfast? Because I tried those new danishes and they were- amazing." He practically moaned in your ear.
"Oh my god Mattheo- why did you do that?"
"What? They were really good." He sat back in his chair with a hurt expression on his face. You rolled your eyes as he made another comment, "So? What did you have for breakfast?"
"Um- nothing. I kind of lost track of time before class, I'll get something later." He was silent for a moment.
"I have danish left; it's all wrapped nicely and everything. Do you want it?"
"Knowing you, you probably put a love potion in it, with how much you seem to want my attention."
He scoffed, "I'm offering you the last of my stash of the most delicious pastry I've ever had the pleasure of tasting, and you still treat me like this?" He covered his mouth with his hand and pretended to cry.
"Would you shut up- we'll get in tr-"
"Miss l/n! Care to explain why you're disrupting my teaching so- loudly?"
"I'm sorry professor, it won't happen again." Your face flushed with embarrassment as Mattheo snickered to the right of you.
For the rest of the lesson, you stared directly at the front and ignored any attempt of Mattheo to distract you. After awhile, the professor gave the class time to work.
He stared down at the desk, "I don't know why I'm in this class, I mean- you're way smarter than me. I guess because my dad expects me to be the top of my class. As soon as he finds out my grade is slipping- he'll probably pull me out." Your face turned concerned at his sudden confession. "I'm sorry for getting you in trouble, it's not your fault I can't focus."
"Thanks.. it's okay. Maybe I'll try a danish tomorrow, if they're as good as you say."
"They are!" As Mattheo was about to say something, the teacher passed back the tests you had taken the week before. Yours landed on the table showing a solid A+, whereas Mattheo's was covered in red ink and marked with a D-. He cringed at the sight of his grade.
"I mean- you didn't fail?" He scoffed,
"Anything below an A is failing for my father." Then, his eyes widened, "What if tutored me?" He said suddenly,
"Would you even listen?" You said, yet not totally shutting down the idea.
"Yes, yes I would. Especially if it's you- I don't know why, but I can actually focus on what you're saying. So, please?"
"..Ok. But if your grade doesn't improve, I don't want to waste my time."
"I'll pay you- I know you're busy."
"I- ok." You agreed to Mattheo's proposal. 'Why am I agreeing to this? Maybe it's because, whether I'd like to admit it or not, he's stupidly charming.' You thought.
The bell rang and Mattheo gathered his things, "I'll see tomorrow?"
"Yea, sounds good." You smiled softly, "Library?"
"Mhm." I waved and walked out of the classroom, leaving you with a blush and a smile that you couldn't wipe of your face.
(pt 2??)
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lizzaneia-elizalde · 9 months ago
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Hi lizz, ( ´ ꒳ ` ) it's been a while
I got SUPER busy with studies, and I cracked my phone badly today — I'm also gonna present a powerpoint tomorrow, but I barely worked on it. (。•́︿•̀。)
So trying not to be a downer, I decided to waste more time by writing something about mean Reader ! ( I like to imagine Damon has a type for mean girls ) ( I also got a bit psychological w this )
— – — – —
Mean Reader who turns a blind eye to someone getting bullied — She thinks its normal to get bullied, and it builds 'character'
Mean Reader who gets easily angry and yell at people, telling them that they'd go nowhere in life — She has her fathers temper
Mean Reader who rolls her eyes at men calling her beautiful, calling them pigs — She believes their either lying or making fun of her
Mean Reader who declines the idea of having friends — She thinks they'd just use her and learn her secrets to spread
Mean Reader who tutored Damon for the first time was holding her tongue from calling him stupid — She's afraid Damon would get angry and might yell at her for being a bitch
Mean Reader who soon yelled at Damon for being stupid and wasting her time — "Thinks" Damon is just purposely being stupid just to get a reaction out of her
( idk whether Damon would actually start to "slowly get smarter" or continue his act so… )
Mean Reader who soon starts getting comfortable around Damon, laughing at his "stupidity" — She thinks he's cute
Mean Reader who soon realizes she's getting too comfortable, she starts to overthink that Damon is just using her for something — She thinks everyone is pretending to be nice towards her, especially Damon
Mean Reader who pushes Damon away, going back to having invisible walls to keep herself from being hurt
( BIPOLAR READER MY FAV !!! )
( I have Bipolar and I just wanna GRR.. I wanna know how Damon would react :,³ )
🦪 Anon!!!!! >∆<
I don't have any knowledge when it comes to Bipolars, so I can't really write a full length fic about this to not risk any misrepresentation that I might write. But, if we go on with the mean reader scenario...
Damon would be into it. He'll like the fact that somebody is actually mean to him and not just overly nice, buddy buddy, friendly, and kind to him. You look and feel human because of it. He deliberately teases and gets dumber and dumber everytime, just wanting you to scold him thoroughly.
The first time that you blew up on him, oh rest assured that left hand of his and the memory of you that day will be really useful by that night. Then and there, he knows that you have to be his.
He already knows what's going on in your mind too. He knows that you have trust issues. And Damon being Damon, continues his act and not even going to do a reassuring act that he's not in it due to the fact that he's using you. No, he kind of want to see you spiral and break until you ask him directly.
He's a flexible man who knows no boundaries when it comes to his darling.
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wooahaes · 2 years ago
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Glad to hear you are feeling better! My tutor said that not many people used pop up for their project so part of me took that as a challenge haha (also pop is so cool, there are so many intricate pieces out there!). My dissertation was "the power of music", but I'd deliberately made it vague because I didn't know what to focus on lol. I'm sort of looking at "does music make you smarter". The Mozart effect gets referenced at lot, but it only affects spacial reasoning not intelligence -🍧
There does seem to be a link between studying music and good grades, but it could also just be the students personality not the effect of music. An article i read suggested that when people ask "does music make you smarter" they imply "smarter at something else" which I thought was really interesting. It's definitely interesting to read up on. I think that music does make you smarter, but smarter at music lol. I'm always happy to share about my projects, it's nice when people are interested -🍧
My thoughts on uts. Firstly, it is such a comforting series. Idk how you do it, but every part leaves me feeling warm! I absolutely loved the whole book plot in wonwoo's part. Every part makes me so soft for the 95s, but you keep breaking my heart over cheol haha. I hope I don't sound impatient, but I'm v excited for his part. I can't wait for him to finally get his happy ending? I actually love uts (and all your other fics) so much. I hope you stay well! 🍧
hiii lovely, sorry for not getting to this sooner! i hope your project has been going well (and i hope you figured out pop up if you went with it! i love seeing the intricate pop up art <3). but ooo the power of music sounds like such a cool topic!! i get making it vague through, since i think its good when to stay vague when you're still narrowing down what you really wanna look into.
i can believe there's a link between studying music + good grades, but i do wonder if it's only a certain kind of studying music? like most people default to classical, but i legit listened to whatever i felt like when i did schoolwork/studied because not having lyrics made it harder for me to focus weirdly enough. the "smarter at something else" part is def interesting tho! plus it makes sense with the whole studying music being linked to studying something else. pls feel free to share whatever you like with me! i love hearing about other ppls pursuits, especially in academics <3
aaa tysm!! that means so much to hear, especially with some parts not being the most positive haha (kwan hao wonu) but i'm glad they still have that comforting/warm energy. im glad you enjoyed the book plot in wonwoo's part! i wanted to have some kind of connection to the teasers while stepping firmly away for wonwoo's to be more about him and the reader since reader getting the same ending as him would pretty much have meant they're destined. plus the shifting details is meant to stay in the same vein of 'weird shit happens' lol (also it was just fun to play around with writing something like a storybook).
hehe i'm glad abt the 95z tho! cheol might be the leader of the entire group, but i like making it clear that hannie and shua both also are an important factor in keeping everyone comfy/happy/cared for <3 also whoopsss (over cheol) <3 (its ok i break my own heart with cheol)
im glad ur excited though! trust me, i'm excited for it too. i have a lot planned for it and i honestly kinda think it might be longer than all the other parts once i'm fully done with it? but i'm absolutely satisfied with the plans i have, just gotta write the other parts to get to him <3
i hope you stay well as well! stay hydrated n rest well, mwah <3
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spaceagebachelormann · 2 years ago
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Hi! I love your writing and had a request!
Neville Longbottom x gn!hufflepuff!reader, a lot of people write him as the one that admires reader from afar while reader is also seen as “perfect”, But I would like it reversed! Reader is the one that likes to admire Neville from afar because they think he’s so pretty and smart and kind. They both have herbology together but reader is close to failing the class so the professor sets up Neville to be their tutor. Reader can’t help but be distracted the entire time when Neville is actually trying to tutor them so they have to keep meeting. But plot twist it was readers plan the whole time just so they have an excuse to be around him and get to know him. One day reader can’t take it anymore a just straight up kisses him when he’s in the middle of a lesson because they think he’s just too cute when he talks about something he’s passionate about. Reader then confesses about everything and they end up together and it’s just cute and fluffy <3
TUTOR - NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM
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   ੈ✩‧₊˚ FANDOM: harry potter
   ੈ✩‧₊˚ FORMAT: long/short fic
   ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: goblet of fire spoilers
   ੈ✩‧₊˚ SUMMARY: luna devises a plan to get her best friends together
masterlist || harry potter masterlist || navigation
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“Y/N, would you stay for a moment after class?” Professor Sprout asked, making eye contact with the young Hufflepuff from across the room.
“Of course, professor!” Y/N responded, before returning to their Herbology notes.
They were so close to failing the class. A few more times of messing up their assignments and they were for sure in trouble. For years now, Y/N had been doing everything they could to get their grade up, but nothing seemed to be working. Luckily, this did not go unnoticed by her classmates.
Luna Lovegood, Y/Ns best friend, had been worried about their grade for weeks. She offered her notes, took her on study dates, and was doing everything she could to help, but nothing seemed to be working.
Her other Hufflepuff classmates also tried to help. Before Cedric Diggory had… you know, he attempted to tutor Y/N. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out.
However, Luna was friends with Neville Longbottom. Neville was an extremely gifted Herbologist. Luna knew for sure he could help Y/N.
And, to make things better, Luna knew of Y/N’s gigantic crush on Neville, and knew exactly what to do.
“Professor?” She asked, stepping up to Professor Sprout with a grin on her face.
“Yes, Miss Lovegood?” The plump woman responded, turning her body and head towards her and offering a smile.
Luna pointed at her best friend, who was desperately flipping through their notes, “My friend, Y/N, they’re just so close to failing this class. I’ve tried anything and everything I could, offering my notes, asking other friends to offer their notes, but nothing seems to be helping.”
The professor raised a brow at the blonde girl, indicating for her to go on.
“Neville Longbottom. He’s a brilliant Herbologist. A couple years ago, I myself was failing this class, do you recall? He was a lovely tutor, he’s the reason I’m still so good at Herbology. I was thinking he could tutor Y/N. He may be the only person who can save them at this point.”
The older woman nodded slowly. Perhaps this was the only way Y/N could pull themselves out of the dirt.
She smiled at Luna brightly. “That’s a wonderful idea! At first, I was just going to assign some homework, but yes, I think Mr. Longbottom is a great idea. Thank you, Miss Lovegood.”
Luna smiled back at the professor, “No problem.”
And with that lovely news, she skipped back to Y/N, and the two began to talk.
Soon enough, the class was over. Luna and Professor Sprout made eye contact as the blonde girl walked out, being reminded of the two students she needed to speak to.
“You wanted to see me, Professor?” Y/N asked, nervously wringing their hands together as their chest pinched with fear.
“Mr. Longbottom, come here for a moment.” The professor asked, glancing between the two students.
Y/Ns heart almost stopped beating. They’d been crushing on Neville for weeks. He was so smart, and he’d always been very kind to Y/N. Always made sure to point out what they were doing wrong in Herbology if he noticed they needed help. It didn’t help that Y/N also thought he was quite pretty.
“Have you two met before?” The older woman asked politely once they were both standing beside eachother.
Y/N opened their mouth to speak, but the anxiousness has caused their throat to close up.
“Not formally.” Neville answered, glancing at them with a seemingly worried expression.
“Well, I may as well get to the point. Neville, I want you to tutor Y/N. She’s very close to failing Herbology and Luna Lovegood enlightened me that you may be able to help. Is that okay with you two?”
Of course, Y/N thought, Lunas behind this, who else would be?
“That’s perfectly fine! I don’t mind at all!” They answered way to quickly, feeling their face begin to heat up and their chest make the same familiar pinching feeling.
Neville smiled politely. “I’d love to, professor.”
The woman smiled. “Great! Now, I want you both to work out a schedule on the way to lunch. Alright?”
The students nodded, walking out together.
“So, I was thinking we could meet 3 times a week. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, easy to remember. What do you think?”
The boy turned his head to the person beside him, mentally noting their nervousness so he didn’t accidentally freak them out.
“That’s good. I can do that. Today’s Monday, should we meet today?” Y/N asked, turning their head away so he didn’t see their flushed cheeks, which didn’t work because he saw them immediately.
“I don’t see why not, I’ll meet you in the greenhouse at 8PM, i'll tell Professor Sprout we’re going to be there so we don’t get in trouble.”
Y/N nodded, realizing they were in the Great Hall.
Before turning on their heel and scattering away to their Hufflepuff friends, they muttered a quick thank you, and did exactly that.
“Was that Neville Longbottom?” Hannah Abbot asked excitedly.
“How did it go? What were you talking about?” Susan Bones asked right after.
Y/N breathed out happily, “He’s my Herbology tutor now! Professor Sprout asked him to help me!”
The three of them had a very long conversation about this unexpected news. Y/N didn’t see the boy from a few minutes ago staring at them.
“What are you looking at?” Ron Weasley asked, aggressively cutting his meat.
Hermione Granger followed Nevilles gaze, ending up on the Hufflepuff.
“Y/N, huh? They’re very nice, just a bit nervous all the time.” She said, now beaming with delight.
Nevilles cheeks were now flushed. “I just spoke with them, Professor Sprout asked me to be their tutor. We’re meeting tonight at 8.” He said, now also grinning.
“Good luck, Neville!” Harry Potter said, smacking his back.
As his back was turned, Neville was now oblivious to the one staring at him.
~
Y/N sat in the greenhouse nervously. Neville was running a bit late, and they were beginning to fear he had forgotten.
This feeling was long forgotten as the greenhouse doors burst open.
The dark-haired boy appeared in the doorway, a focused expression on his cute face, and a pile of books in his arms, and even more in a bag he had on his back.
Y/N rushed over to him, taking a few of the books in their arms. “Neville!” They exclaimed, “Put these down, open the bag, i have something to show you.” They said, while hurriedly placing the books on the table.
Neville nodded and dropped them down on the wooden surface, opening the bag for Y/N, a confused looking replacing the focused one.
They cleared their throat, and spoke clearly, “Capacious extremis.”
The bag, which was overfilled a few moments ago, expanded, making it much easier for when Neville had to carry everything back after their session.
“There,” Y/N said with an awkward smile, “that should make everything, you know, less hard to carry.”
Nevilles eyes twinkled with amazement, and he began to grin widely.
“Y/N, that was amazing! I can never remember that charm, and that was so smart of you!”
Once again, he took notice of the way Y/Ns cheeks heated up, and laughed a little.
Meanwhile, Y/N was at a loss for words, normally they could respond to compliments just fine. But, this one came from Neville, which automatically made their whole week.
“Anyways, where do you want to start?” Neville politely asked, pulling on his gardening gloves.
“We were learning about Bowtruckles, and Professor Sprout asked me to write a double sided parchment on their behaviour. I can’t find anything good enough for it though, and this is the 8th time this year I haven’t been able to write an assignment like this.”
His face lit up at the mention of Bowtruckles, very clearly excited to talk about them with somebody.
“Well,” he began, flipping through one of the books, “it’s a very peaceful and shy creature. However, if the tree it lives in is threatened, it attempts to harm the one who’s hurting the tree. If you offer woodlice, the Bowtruckle will be less angry and hostile, and you can get some wood-wand from its tree.”
He turned his gaze back towards Y/N, who was leaning on the table, listening intently and watching his face with wonder on theirs.
“Here, I’d recommend these books. They explain a whole bunch of things about Bowtruckles. Read chapters 6, 9, and 18 here, and then I can help you write that assignment.” He said, smiling at Y/N happily.
They nodded, giving a sincere and genuine thank you, which made his heart flutter, and then they grabbed the books and quickly ran back to the Hufflepuff common room.
And, this went on for weeks. Y/N and Neville meeting and trying to fix their Herbology grade.
The best parts?
A) Y/Ns grade was improving! They were understanding a bit more, and had grown a lot closer with Neville. At this point, the two of them were inseparable when they weren’t in separate classes.
B) Y/N was purposely forgetting and pretending not to understand things so she and Neville could continue meeting. It was all part of her master plan.
~
On this special day in April, Neville was happily talking and grinning adorably about Herbology during one of their sessions.
Y/N wasn’t listening though. They were focused on Nevilles face, and how his eyes were shining, his cheeks were flushed, and, his lips. They wanted to stand up and kiss them so badly.
They wanted to kiss Neville until they were the only thing Neville could think about.
They wanted to kiss Neville until they both couldn’t think straight.
They wanted to kiss Neville until they couldn’t breathe.
And, Neville did too. For the past weeks, it was all he wanted to do.
Sadly, Y/N was unaware of Nevilles true feelings. That wasn’t going to stop their next move though.
He was standing in front of them, leaning on the desk and rambling on and on about something. Y/N stood up, and pressed their lips against his.
And, there it was. A spark. The spark they’d both been dreaming of for months.
Neville kissed back, gently placing his hands on either side of their face, while their hands rested on his shoulders.
When they pulled away, both of their faces were flushed and they were slightly panting.
“I, uh, so i’ve kinda liked you for.. about 2 years by my best guess, and I wasnt thinking, so I kissed you. And, i’m sorry? I think?” They said, awkwardly placing their hands by their side and refusing to make eye contact.
Neville laughed, taking their cold and shaky hands in his. “I’ve liked you for awhile too. I don’t think I was ever going to tell you anytime soon though.”
Y/N rolled their eyes with a playful smile. “You’re so weird.”
“So are you.”
The session ended with no more work being done, and the two laughing and making out, and then Neville walked Y/N to the Hufflepuff common room, getting one last kiss before they went to sleep.
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yyxgin · 4 years ago
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lee felix’s guide to hating you
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— ♡ FIC BANNER MADE BY THE AMAZING @chogiwow !!
pairing: lee felix x fem!reader genre: college au, tutor au ; fluff, angst, slice of life, slow burn word count: 21 k warnings: mentions of alcohol, mention of weed, swearing, bad family relationships
a/n: this story is very briefly inspired by jaemin’s drama ‘the way i hate you’ :) also this idea has been in my mind for such a long time, so i’m happy i finally managed to write it. this is also my longest fic so far, i hope it’s worth it. uhh yea enjoy <3
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taglist: @feyregels​ @missskzbiased​ @hyunyin​ @koishua​ @crispy-chan​ @rindomo​ @soulssung​ @thatrandomoneinthecorner​ @90shermione​ @chogiwow​ @creatichee​ @freckledberries​ @hyunnies-stars​ 
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There’s a list of things Lee Felix knew before applying for college-- and that is: 1) he really, desperately needs a degree for his grandparents to value him as an equal adult, 2) college in young adult movies seems like fun and partying and alcohol really does sound like his wettest dream, 3) he doesn’t need to work for another 4 years, which is fun and 5) he is really, horribly bad at studying.
Here’s a list of things Lee Felix, however, did not know before applying for college, and even though it’s fairly shorter, it hits you in the guts deeper, and that is: 1) studying for college means never ending chapters of insomnia and 2) he is always going to feel like the second choice for everyone. 
You see, girls don’t like Felix that much. Well, that’s a lie-- girls do go after him, tell him he’s cute and his freckles are adorable, but that’s only after they find out there’s no use in chasing after his best friend Han Jisung when he gets himself a new significant other. Boys don’t go after Felix either. Why, you may ask? Read the paragraph over again-- just change the word girls to the word boys. It’s as simple as that. He’s always the second choice, the back-up plan. It feels silly to drag his grandma into this, really, but the truth is, he’s a second choice in every aspect of his life, and that, too, includes his big (and still growing) family that treats him as something less than a human just because of the fact that his grades aren’t as good as his cousin’s are and he doesn’t have a degree in biological science, although he’s too young for that and his college years only started. It’s hard, living in his shoes.
What is Felix, however, really good at? 
Cheating.
Yeah, well, you see-- it’s not funny to be the outcast of the smart Lee family and it’s also not enetaining in the slightest to be the only single one at family gatherings (read as: weddings, because every single one of his relatives decided to fuck up their life with marriage in the past three years for some unknown reason). So Felix does what he’s the best at, and that is going by his favorite life motto: fake it ‘til you make it. 
He cheats on every single one of his exams and believe me when I tell you he’s the top of the class just because he’s the best cheater in town. Good cheating techniques equal good grades and suddenly, Felix’s life seems much brighter when he spends his sleepless nights with creating cheat sheets instead of studying and copying essays written in korean, translating them to english and submitting them as his own because no one will ever notice-- his degree is within the reach of his hand and he can already feel all the grandmas of the family clapping in joy, maybe even wiping away a stray tear on his graduation ceremony in a few years with bouquets of flowers in their hands and expensive watches in their gift bags, ready to welcome him back into the family.. 
What he doesn’t expect, though, is the cute little saying of ‘every lie has short legs’ he swears he heard sometimes in his linguistic class before, coming to life right in front of his eyes as the professor of his Biology class makes him the assigned tutor of the sweet Y/N Y/L/N, because, well, he clearly doesn’t know anything-- what’s he supposed to tutor now? 
The best cheating techniques?
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The freckled boy sitting in front of you looks at you with furrowed brows and you wonder what’s the matter with him. Is there something on your face? Are you not dressed appropriately for the occasion? I mean, it’s only a tutoring session, so you didn’t put that much effort into it, but judging from the casual outfit enveloping his body, he didn’t really try to look fancy either. So what was it with him that made him stare you down as if you had horns on your head?
“Shall we start?” he asks once he’s done staring, voice sounding determined. You wonder if he sees the hints of nervousness on your face and if he notices the way you shrink in your seat in the mention of biology, but you guess he doesn’t know you that well to know that you fear the subject as much as you fear dying. 
“Yeah, sure,” you nod, scooting closer to the edge of your seat so you’re not so far away from the table. Felix-- your new biology tutor-- is sitting opposite of you and it’s quite difficult to read the text book once it’s upside down, but you don’t dare to mention it to him for a reason that’s unknown to you as well. It’s like you don’t want to overstep any invisible boundary on your first tutoring session, and telling the person that is teaching you to turn around the text book so you can actually see and learn something seems to be one of the taboos in your eyes. 
You take a quick glance at the waiter that just stopped next to your booth and smile, opening up your mouth to order yourself a meal. “Can I get you anything else?” she asks.
“No-” Felix offers her with a shy smile, but you cut him off with a voice a little higher in the octaves, not wanting your tutor coming in between you and reaching your biggest goal you’ve set for yourself.
“Actually, yes. Could I please get the chicken wings? With fries?” you ask, trying to look as innocent as you can, smiling at her in politeness. You ignore the confused look Lee Felix is offering you from the other side of the table. You mentally send him a signal to tell him to mind his own business, watching the waitress leave with a nod and a polite smile. 
“Okay, now we can start,” you nod at him and focus all your attention to the boy with sandy hair in front of you.
“O...kay?” he answers, obviously trying to bat away his rising confusion, because ordering yourself chicken wings on your tutoring session is prohibited now, apparently. “So,” he starts, sighing and scratching the back of his neck, “what do you not understand from this section?” 
You nervously chew on the bottom of your lip. Well, that’s a sweet question, you think. It would have been much sweeter and much easier to answer, though, if you understood at least a bit from the things you’re supposed to know. You went to university with the urge to prove something to yourself, but the only thing you’re proving to yourself right now is the fact that you are actually kind of useless, when it comes to biology.
“Just like the… whole thing, actually,” you nod, trying not to look as defeated as you feel and also trying not to burst out in a manic laugh as you always do when you feel slightly nervous about anything.
“Cool, cool, yeah,” he nods, taking a deep breath in, turning the textbook around and sighing, “I don’t think I can help you with that.”
“What do you mean you can’t?” you ask, confused. 
Lee Felix is the top of the grade. He is the best at biology, he is the best at chemistry, he is the best at his farmacy class. You’re sure he’ll be a fine biochemist in a few years, when his college times are over. Lee Felix is the smartest boy in your biology class and you are, coincidentally, quite the opposite on this spectrum. Which is exactly why your teacher managed to make Felix tutor you in his free time. You weren’t surprised at the fact that the blonde boy agreed to this-- he was quite the sweetheart, really. All the girls in your class fawned upon the way his freckles shined in the sunlight and the way he opened the doors for older professors. He was quite the boy you would want to introduce to your parents. Not quite the one every girl goes after, but the one that you would want to settle down with after your college years are over.
So why is he, the sweet, but also smart boy that agreed to tutor you, now telling you he can’t help you?
“It’s just.. I’m not really good at this section, I mean-”
“Felix, you’re the top of the class. Of course you’re good at this section.” you mumble, gazing deep into his eyes, trying to search for an answer.
“I-” he says and takes a sharp breath in, stopping himself in continuing his train of thought and just opting to shrug, not giving you a proper response either.
You feel like someone just punched you in the gut, and that’s when you realise-- here it is again. Another person that doesn’t believe in you-- another person that needs proving that you really can do it, you just need a little push. You can see it in his eyes that he doesn’t think you’re smart or bright enough to pass the exams, you’re not good enough to get good grades. It’s nothing new to you, but it still haunts you just the same.
“Is it because you know I can’t do it?” you bluntly ask, sighing. 
“No! No, no, I never said that-” he says, almost panicking with the way his hands fly into the air hurriedly, waving them around as if it was meant to calm you down. 
“You’re acting like it, though. I promise I’m not stupid- well, maybe I am, but-”
“You’re not stupid! It’s me! I’m the stupid one here.” he says, effectively silencing you with his words as you stare at him, dumbfounded. He’s joking, right?
“How can you be stupid when you get only the best grades? Felix, if you just don’t want to waste your time here, tell me, but don’t try to hide behind poor excuses.” you roll your eyes, feeling frustrated at the boy’s antics. Does he really think you’re that stupid that you can’t see right through his lies?
“I cheat.”
You blink a few times as if to reset your brain, gazing at him with pure confusion written in your orbs. He cheats? No. That’s a lie. A person as good at biology as Felix can’t cheat. All his exams are on 100% and he never makes any mistakes. He’s the epitome of the smart kid. The little Einstein. The prodigy. There’s no way it’s all cheating.
“No.” you shake your head in disapproval. “Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not lying! Look, I genuinely, really want to help you. I really do. The thing is, though, I don’t know how to study. I make cheat sheets and I use them at every exam and every test, that’s why everyone thinks I’m super smart, but that is really not the case,” he shakes his head, staring into your eyes with his wide open in honesty, wanting you-- no,-- needing you to understand. “I would tutor you if I could, really, but I just don’t know how to,” he sighs finally, acting like he’s just given birth or ran a marathon, exhaustion written all over his face.
“So why did you offer to tutor me, then?” you ask.
He takes a moment for himself to collect his thoughts, before he speaks up again. “Well, I didn’t really want to get caught. You see, I would never turn my back to anyone. Really. So I thought I could at least try to learn something? So I could help you? But I failed, as always, so I’m just coming clean in front of you and you have to promise me you won’t tell anyone.”
The moment the last sentence leaves his mouth, you notice the apparent fear in his eyes, realising that he just shared an information with you that nobody really knows. It’s a secret he’s been hiding and keeping from everyone just to appear as the smartest one-- fooling everyone, including you. You feel even more stupid now, under his gaze. You feel played. You came to the tutoring, hoping to finally get a grip, when all you get is a person that is stepping all over the sandcastle of your fragile dreams, kicking every little piece of sand away with his lies. You know you shouldn’t feel so invested in this. You shouldn’t feel so hurt. But somehow, you still do. 
“So you just told me you are lying to everyone and cheating on tests and you want me to keep it a secret from everyone?” you ask in disbelief.
“Yes.” he nods, eyes hopeful. He’s been lying for the last year as if his life was depending on it and now he wants you to do the same-- keep quiet in front of everyone.
“And what do I do when the professor asks me why I’m not getting any better? Huh? Ever thought of that?” you leash out, harshly chewing on your bottom lip in nerves. “I want to pass. And I want to do it fair and square.” you get out in between your teeth.
“I didn’t… I didn’t think of that yet, but-”
“Leave.” you say, looking him sternly into his eyes.
“What do you mean, leave?”
“I don’t want to talk to you anymore. And you’re clearly not here to teach me anything, so you can just take your things and leave.” you spit out, crossing your hands over your chest.
“You leave, then,” he mutters, looking rather offended. You’re not sure why he’s the one hurt right now, but you guess that’s just how men and their egos are, there’s nothing more under his hurt eyes and shattered self-esteem.
“I ordered food, I’m not leaving.” you calmly respond. Once you say this, you’re reminded of the little quest you made for yourself. Never once did you feel silly for taking it so seriously in front of your other friends, but now, in front of Lee Felix with freckled dusted cheeks, you feel almost invisible as you realise why you even ordered the chicken wings and how you’re going to write a yelp review about them later.
Well, someone has to do it, and if not you, then who will, right? It’s the only valid way to find out who makes the best chicken wings in the town and not even your traitor-tutor is going to stop you now, when your list is only getting shorter and shorter. 
He stares at you for a few moments, dumbfounded, before he sighs and accepts his defeat. “Okay, I’ll just have to text my roommate to pick me up,” he admits.
You nod, just in time the server comes back with your food, offering her a welcoming smile. “Fine. But don’t even think of talking to me from now on. I’m not interested in more lies,” you spit at him, scowling as you take a look at the plate of chicken wings sitting in front of you in their full glory. You sense a very bad review, judging from the way the chicken wings look nothing like wings, rather full on small chickens dipped in oil, but dive in nonetheless. 
“Why do you have to be so dramatic?” he asks, voice coated in disbelief.
“Because I was scammed!” you yell out, mouth full of chicken, not caring a second about the way you might look in the boy’s eyes. Yes, you could have at least swallowed before speaking to him, but did you do it? No. No, you didn’t. 
“Oh come on-”
“Don’t even try arguing with me!” you spit at him-- quite glad that this time, it’s not literal-- and huff out in annoyance, when the door opens and a short boy with a bucket hat on steps into the bistro, the red fabric of the seats of the booths contrasting with his shoes in a way that makes you feel captivated, your eyes refusing to tear themselves away from him. 
The boy is taking quick steps to your booth and you almost choke on your chicken wings as you admire his full glory-- tanned skin and car keys in his hand, but his eyes meet the boy sitting opposite of you and that’s when everything clicks. This is not the boy of your dreams, this is Han Jisung. Your tutor’s best friend and roommate-- also known as the resident heartbreaker. You shouldn’t feel weak in your knees when you look at him, but that’s exactly what happens and you won’t feel ashamed about it. Well, not now, at least. In a few hours when you’re lying in your bed? Maybe. But I’ll tell you then.
“Yo, dude, I texted you like five minutes ago that I’m waiting for you outside, what are you still doing here?” he asks, furrowing his brows at his roommate and slowly moving his eyes to you, scanning you up and down, leaving your heart to do the stupid cartwheel you haven’t felt since, like, middle school. 
“We were in the middle of an argument, so I didn’t hear my phone ring.” Felix answers, glaring at you with spiteful eyes. You almost prepare to kill him with yours, but you focus on wiping the oil from the corner of your mouth and smiling heavenly, trying to look like a lady in front of your new visitor.
“Was Felix being absolutely unbearable again?” he asks you, surprising you with his subtle way of engaging you into the conversation.
You giggle, rolling your eyes slightly. “Yeah. You know him too well, don’t you?”
“Unfortunately,” he admits, looking defeated, when he moves his eyes to Felix, looking rather sulky on the red seat in front of you as you chat with his roommate, when Jisung’s tone of voice changes into a more worried one, speaking up again, “does she… did you…?”
“Yeah,” Felix just nods. 
Jisung sighs, sitting down next to his roommate, pushing him a little so he has more space in the booth. “What are you supposed to tutor her anyway?” he asks.
“Biology,” you mumble sooner than Felix gets the chance to speak up, motioning to the textbook still sitting at the table in front of you. 
The boy takes a look at the papers, his face changing from a focused one to a one more lighter, his eyes scanning the papers with ease. You notice his mouth moving a little as he reads the words under his breath, catching yourself from staring when you feel Felix’s eyes burning into the crown of your head, snapping you back to reality. 
“You know… maybe I could help you with that.” he says, looking like a business offering you a deal that you’re sure involves something illegal. He looks like a focused squirrel with his cheeks puffed out a little in what you sense is pride, something in his eyes glowing as you nervously chew on your bottom lip.
“Really?”
“Yeah, of course. I’m actually quite good at biology, to be honest. Well, not as much as Felix over here-” he jokes, scowling when the blonde boy punches his arm, “but I think I could tutor you a thing or two.”
“What’s the catch?” you ask, nervously watching him. Something in his composure is telling you he’ll want something in return, but you don’t know what yet. You’re quite sure you’ll sell your soul for the adorable boy in front of you if he asked you to, but it never hurts to ask beforehand, right? 
“What do you mean, what’s the catch?”
“Like… what do you want in return?” you muse out, taking a bite of a fry, noticing how soggy it feels under your teeth.
“Woah, you spend 15 minutes with Felix and you already think there’s something illegal behind everything? I’ll let you know, I’m better than that.” he scoffs. “I’m just doing it because I see how miserable you are. And I also don’t want you to tell on my buddie over here.” he adds, smiling warmly.
You take notice of the way Felix’s eyes grow twice their size and how Jisung’s knee lightly bumps into his under the table. It’s subtle, but you think that maybe this is when you fully fell for the short boy in front of you-- when he offered to save his best friend’s ass by helping out a lost girl with biology. And who are you to say no now? I mean, you need the tutoring nonetheless. Who cares if the boy tutoring you is someone else? Maybe it’s even more appealing to you this way, but you’ll never admit that out loud.
“Okay then, sure.” you nod, grinning from ear to ear, feeling satisfied.
“Great. Now, give me half the fries and we can arrange our next tutoring session,” he smiles, “oh, and I’m Han Jisung, by the way.”
He winks. 
You should be disturbed, but strangely, you’re not. You grin back at him, offering him the soggy fries you’re sure you’re going to give a really bad review in the evening, watching his composure change into a more laid-back one, engaging you in a conversation and slunging an arm around his best friend’s shoulders.
Lee Felix remains silent. He feels it once again-- he feels the loneliness of being left out. 
And he’s sure it won’t be the last time.
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Lee Felix knows damn well how it feels to be the third wheel. He’s hung out with Jisung and his potential love interests multiple times, he’s even been on double dates with the said male, yet, he always somehow ends up being left out. So why does it still feel the same? Why does he still feel that restless feeling in his stomach, the emptiness in his chest, just like the first time? I guess you never get used to some things and emotions are one of them. No matter how much you argue that you know a feeling so well it doesn’t even surprise you anymore, it still hurts the same. That’s funny about emotions. Sometimes, they can’t even make you numb.
“Hurry up dude, the bistro closes in an hour and half!” Jisung rushes the taller male (not tall, just taller. Don’t misunderstand.) with his car keys in his hand, twirling them around his fingers in a nervous manner. Felix notices his roommate has put some effort into his outfit today, considering the lemon supreme shirt enveloping his body that he saves only for special occasions, yet, Felix doesn’t realise why he had to put it on when they’re literally just going out to eat some soggy fries in the bistro close to their house. He doesn’t ask, though. He doesn’t want the car key stuck in his forehead. He also doesn’t know why they have to rush so much, since they have an hour and half left before they close, but again, he doesn’t dare to say it out loud. 
Felix quickly puts his shoes on and rolls his eyes at his roommate. “I’m ready,” he announces.
Jisung swiftly takes a bottle of cologne from the table in their small hall (it��s so small they don’t even have a mirror in it, because there was no use in taking mirror selfies when all you can see on the picture is your phone case due to the fact that the room is too narrow for you to move further away) and sprays his body wit hit, efficiently confusing his roommate. “You wanna smell great for the waiter there? Because from what I remember, he was a stoner-”
“Oh, shut up. You never know when you’re gonna meet someone cute, am I right?” he asks, grinning from ear to ear like a cat, taking his backpack with him and opening the front door, “gotta look and smell presentable at all times.”
Felix wonders if this is why everyone always goes after his best friend. 
No, he thinks, it cannot be the cloud of cologne hanging around his body. It’s heavy and it makes Felix cough a little, but he tries to mask it, because he’s fairly sure Jisung won’t pay for his fries today if he doesn’t. And Felix is a simple man-- if he can get something for free, he will do anything to achieve it.
They arrive at the place in a few minutes and Felix can already feel his mouth watering at the thought of the salty fries and cheeseburger he’s going to get himself, joyfully skipping inside the bistro and waiting in the queue. Jisung follows him, standing next to him, efficiently covering the smell of the oil and all the good things on this earth-- read as fast food-- making Felix scowl. The boy behind the register, is, in fact, Na Jaemin-- the resident frat boy. Felix’s heard all about him from the girls staying at the dorms and to be honest, he’s quite glad he doesn’t have to live the stories of getting caught with weed at Jaemin's party on his own. That, and the fact that hot water runs in his apartment. Na Jemin might have the weed, but he surely doesn’t have that in his college dorm room. 
“Three milkshakes, two large fries, chicken wings and a cheeseburger, please.” Jisung orders, confusing Felix in one sentence. Since when is his best friend a bottomless pot for food? Is he really going to eat all of that?
“Coming right at you. Anything else?” Jaemin asks, voice considerate and polite, still turned on his customer service mode, even though Felix is sure him and Jisung have had shared a joint or two on one of his parties before.
“No, that’s all. Thanks, man,” Jisung answers, leaving with Felix right behind him. 
“Who’s gonna eat all of that? I hope you know you’re paying, and before you protest, yes, I did purposefully leave my wallet at home-” he rambles, still moving, when his train of thought is cut off by a person in his view.
You are sitting there in your full glory, smiling brightly at the boys approaching you. You’re dressed nicely, he notices-- you look like you put some effort into what you’re wearing. You don’t look that much different, but he can still see the slight changes you made to look neat. You’re glowing, Felix notices. You look excited.
“Hi, Y/N,” Jisung greets, taking a seat opposite of you. He doesn’t even give Felix an answer, he doesn’t even give him an explanation. He’s left there only to take a seat next to his roommate after collecting his thoughts, chewing on his bottom lip.
The conversation never moves his way. He is silenced. Felix wonders why he was even invited, watching the people behind the window laughing with their friends, happy to order some tasty food and have fun on this Thursday evening. He watches his friend and his classmate have fun-- well, as much fun as a tutoring session could be. You’re laughing at every single one of Jisung’s jokes and he swears Jisung’s eyes never leave your face, even when he’s explaining something to you. He wonders why Jisung didn’t tell him where they’re going. He wonders why he even had to come.
Lee Felix knows how third-wheeling feels. Yet, it still makes his little foolish heart hurt just the same every time.
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You nervously chew on your bottom lip, cracking your knuckles in a habit your friends always scream at you for, waiting for your tutor-- well, he’s not really your tutor anymore-- to appear in the bistro on the other side of the town. You admire the decorations for a while, liking the way it looks modern here and the purple led lights make the whole place look aesthetic. You can already imagine multiple college kids going here and taking instagram pictures to look cool. It’s nice and you’ll definitely include it in your yelp review-- it won’t make it more stars, though, if the chicken wings don’t taste like heaven.
You tug on the sleeves on your hoodie, as if you were trying to make yourself disappear. I mean, you do feel embarrassing. You feel pathetic that it had to come down to this, but you guess desperate times call for desperate solutions. You’re not here to look put-together anymore. You’re going to show him your full glory and although you regret it a little, you still have a little spark of hope in you that Han Jisung-- the boy you, admittedly, were crashing on real hard right now, won’t find out.
Felix comes into the bistro in his full VSCO boy glory, as always. He is wearing a jean jacket and his freckled cheeks are dusted pink, you’d almost think he’s blushing all the time. He doesn’t quite fit the aesthetics of this futuristic looking bistro, you notice. The retro places you’ve been to so far fit him much more-- his sandy hair contrasted well with the yellow walls and red booths. It was starting to get a little repetitive, though, you must admit.
“Hi,” he greets you as he takes his seat, smiling at you with what you can only describe as a feeling of full uncomfort. You wonder what made him feel this way about you, but you don’t dare to think of it twice as you focus on the main quest of the day-- forcing him to teach you his ways.
“Hello,” you smile. 
Felix notices how natural you look-- it feels like now is the first time he’s seeing you in your full glory. You aren’t wearing your neat clothes for a meeting with Jisung and you’re not too casual like you were at your first ‘tutoring session’ either-- you’re just you. The way he doesn’t even see you in classes. He likes the fact that no one else than him can see you like this-- he likes the fact that Jisung is nowhere around, yet, he wonders why is that, exactly, since the two of you seemed to be hitting it off quite well so far.
Felix hasn’t been with Jisung when he last tutored you. He figured there’s no use, he’s going to get ignored all the time anyway. 
“So… what’s the matter?” he asks, folding his hands into his lap. He dares to take a quick look at you, noticing your worn-out shirt and dark circles under your eyes, worry washing over him. Did something happen? Was Jisung a jerk to you? 
“Well, I sort-of have a little problem,” you mumble out, tearing your gaze away from him. You seem shy for the first time in front of him and he wonders why. He doesn’t understand your sudden change of behaviour. This isn’t the you he’s used to. “Well, turns out, I am really stupid.” you propose, leaving Felix to gaze at you in surprise.
He chuckles. You swiftly look up at him with piercing eyes telling him to stop, and he almost does, but your face looks too adorable when it’s scrunched up like that, so he only giggles once more. “You’re not stupid.”
“I am!” you whine out, finally letting your whole shy facade fall, exposing the true you once again right in front of Felix’s eyes-- direct and fierceful. “Even Jisung’s tutoring isn’t helping and I feel so stupid with him! And I don’t want him to think that I’m stupid, even though I am, and I just… I can’t pass my exams like this, so I need your help.” you say, eyes big, looking almost pleading.
“And I am supposed to help… how? Exactly?” The confusion is written all over his face, and it almost makes you frustrated. You knew he must be smart, if his cheating has been so good he’s getting through college with straight As, but really, is he really that smart if he can’t read in between the lines?
“Help me cheat.” you quickly get out, biting down on your lower lip just as you say it, as if you were regretting it.
The silence that overtakes the two of you feels like it’s slowly going to eat you up alive, angrily biting into your skin. It feels heavy and suffocating, your palms sweating as you watch Felix blink at you with mouth agape, breathing in and out. You pray for him to make up his mind soon, or else you’re going to run out of the bistro without a yelp review, tearing the skin of your cuticles as you see him blink quickly a few times before shaking his head in disbelief, clearing his storage.
“You want me to help you cheat?” he asks for clarification, furrowing his brows at you.
“That’s correct.” you nod, chewing on the inside of your cheek. You haven’t been this nervous since you took your college entrance exams, and that shows a lot, considering you used to say that has been the most difficult experience of your life so far.
“Because Jisung…. isn’t tutoring you well enough?” he asks again, making you roll your eyes in annoyance.
“Hey, don’t put the blame on Jisung! I’m just stupid, that’s all.” you say, looking down into your lap, because his gaze suddenly feels like he’s judging you and you really don’t feel like maintaining eye contact with him when you’re under pressure.
“If you don’t stop saying that, I will kick you.”
“You wouldn’t dare-”
“I would and I will-”
“Okay, but is that a yes, then?” you look up at him with hopeful eyes, resembling a puppy just a little too much, and, well, Felix can’t just reject you now, can he?
“I.. guess…?” he says, watching your face light up in joy as you clap a few times in excitement. 
“Great! Can we start today? We have to start today! I brought my text books and papers and sharpies and-” you are cut off by Felix’s face lighting up at the sight of you, his eyes looking warm and admiring. You quickly shake away the excitement before it goes too far and you actually go to hug him or something, taking a deep breath in and out to calm yourself down.
Just in that moment, the server appears with two servings of chicken wings and two large fries, making Felix look at you in confusion. 
“I ordered you food, since I thought we’ll stick around for a while..” you mumble, seeing him eagerly nod and take one fry into his hand, biting down on it with a face full of pleasure. 
“Perfect. Just let me eat a few of these and we can get right into work, I promise,” he mutters with a mouth full of food, prompting you to take a bite yourself. It doesn’t taste the worst-- the bistro you went to after prom last year was definitely worse than this, but still, you don’t think Felix’s face quite resembles how the food tastes. He looks as if the Queen of England made it. In reality, it’s just a soggy fry. 
“Why do you always order the same thing? Aren’t you tired of eating the same thing over and over again?” he asks suddenly, examining your face with real interest. No one’s ever noticed your eating habits before, just shrugging off what you order every single time. Your little fast food experiment has been a secret so far, even though it wasn’t that hard to cover it up-- nobody really cared until now. 
You feel blush creeping on your cheeks as you shrug, feeling a little embarrassed for like the hundredth time today, when you reply to the boy in front of you. You know his secret, so it only feels valid for him to know yours. “I have this experiment… like, I try chicken wings and fries at every single bistro, restaurant and fast food chain in the town to find out which one’s the best…” you mumble, looking into your plate instead of facing him out of the ugly feeling of patheticness creeping up your back.
“Oh, that’s cool!” he exclaims, pointing his fry your direction, a response you didn’t quite expect, “Where do they have the best ones so far?” he asks, genuine interest painting his features.
“Oh,” you get out, feeling your lips unvoliteraly tug into a smile, “I don’t.. I still have a few bistros and the McDonald’s on the highway out of the city left, but I’d say the best ones so far were at Wendy’s. I didn’t quite like the chicken wings there, though, so…”
“Hmm,” he nods, deep in thought, “we just get food at where’s the closest.” he says, munching on a chicken wing. “I guess we could pay a little more attention to the food from now on, because after eating this, I’m never going to eat the food from the bistro right in front of our flat again.”
“Yeah, that bistro’s really awful. I only gave it around 2.5 stars, I think-” you say, before you realise you just spilled out another secret to him, feeling your cheeks heating up. 
“2.5 stars? What, do you write yelp reviews or something?” he asks, clearly amused by your accidental spill-out.
“And what if I do?” you defend yourself, glaring at him with fake annoyance. No man will ever make fun of you because you write yelp reviews. Not Lee Felix, even though he seems too nice to actually make fun of you because of something, not anyone. 
“That’s cool, though! Those help so much when you travel,” he says, eagerly nodding at you with big eyes and an adorable grin plastered on his face, making you feel understood and happy with just the sudden sign of acceptance. Turns out your little weird obsession isn’t as embarrassing as you thought it was. Or Lee Felix really is the sweetest guy walking on this earth. Either one is fine in your books.
You stay there for a few hours and Felix teaches you the basic cheat codes-- never meet the teacher’s eye, never finish your tests too quickly, always forcefully pick the wrong option before scribbling it out and putting in a correct one to not seem too suspicious. He even takes a piece of paper from you and scribbles down the basic cheat-sheet making structure. 
He feels good with you. He feels useful. He knows he shouldn’t be teaching you this, but really, is it really doing any harm? We all have to go through college somehow.
Yet, all evenings always end the same for Felix, with a bad feeling in his gut and a fake smile on his face hiding the true meaning behind his actions. He’ll never be the first choice and you remind him even today, after you leave the ‘tutoring session’ with a quick hug to the male, lowering your voice so only he can hear when you pay him your goodbyes.
“Don’t tell Jisung, okay?”
Of course. It’s all because you don’t want to look embarrassing in front of his best friend.
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It goes all how you planned it to-- you’re sitting at your next tutoring session with two males in front of you. One of them is your supposed tutor and one of them is a boy that’s helping you pass your exams for real. You’re into one of them, even though you shouldn’t. You wonder how you even ended up in this mess. You swear you were a good student in high school, always submitting your assignments on time and making sure your tests were on 100%. It was kind of fueling your ego, in a way. You had no other plans in your life to hold on to, no dreams to dream, so you reasoned to do the only thing that you were good at-- getting good grades. You had to prove to yourself that there was a reason, a meaning behind your life. You had to prove to yourself that your existence was valid.
You watch Jisung with interest. You pray to god that he doesn’t catch you in your act, because that would surely be embarrassing. You don’t want him to find out that you’re just fine with cheating, because that meant your tutoring sessions with the male would end and there was no other reason for you to see him. You knew Han Jisung wasn’t interested in you. You were sure you’d see it on him if he was. And even then, you weren’t interested in only a short relationship without any good point. You liked Jisung, but you didn’t like his reputation. One week wasn’t long enough for you to waste your time on him and get your heart broken. You weren’t sure if he was a player, or if he just wanted to desperately find the one by trying all the possibilities, but you weren’t going to find out. 
Felix watches you with interest in his eyes-- but you don’t notice. He prays that Jisung doesn’t find out about your secret little ‘tutoring sessions’, because that would mean he wouldn’t have a reason to hang out with you anymore. And Felix really doesn’t want that to happen. For some reason, he doesn’t want you to ever frown. And he’s sure that’s exactly what would happen if Jisung cancelled.
It doesn’t click to him what’s happening inside of his little, foolish heart when he sees you smile at Jisung and his stomach fills with worry. 
It doesn’t click to him what’s happening with him when every time Jisung subtly takes your hand in his makes his insides twitch in frustration. He thinks it’s just because of the fact that he’s third-wheeling again, like all his life, and maybe that is partly true, but it’s not the whole reason behind the cloud around his head.
It clicks only when him and his roommate are back home, sitting at the dinner table with the left-overs from the new bistro you three went to, munching on the chicken wings and another pack of soggy french fries and the cola they had in their fridge.
“So… what do you think about Y/N?” Jisung asks suddenly, making Felix furrow his brows in confusion.
“What should I think? She’s smart, I guess…” he mumbles, mouth full of food, not quite grasping the full meaning of his roommate’s question. 
“Yeah, yeah,” Jisung quickly nods in approval, “she’s getting really good. I mean, you can still see she’s having some troubles when I’m tutoring her, but at least she always gets good grades on tests now,” he says, biting down on another piece of chicken wing. Felix feels a wave of pride wash over him after hearing the words-- of course you’re doing well on exams. It’s all Felix’s doing. You’re a quick learner, when it comes to cheating. 
“Yeah, she’s good,” he says. 
“Well,” Jisung suddenly starts, meaning to sound nonchalantly, but only sounding like he’s determining his biggest life secret in front of his friend instead, “I like her.”
Felix almost chokes on the piece of chicken in his mouth, trying to play it off with a small chuckle. “Oh? You do?”
“Yeah. Should I.. Should I ask her on a date or something?” he asks and Felix swears he can see his friend’s cheeks reddening a little, even though the last time he’s seen Jisung embarrassed was when he accidentally called their Math’s teacher mum in eleventh grade. 
“You don’t date, though,” Felix opposes.
“That’s not true-”
“Two weeks long relationships aren’t relationships, Jisung.” 
“Not my fault they’re never the one! It gets boring after a while, Felix, I can’t just-”
“Why are you even asking me this?” Felix suddenly cuts him off, glaring at him. He doesn’t know why he’s reacting in such a way. It’s not like it’s the first time Jisung is going to date someone for two weeks just to break their heart, it’s not the first time they’re going to run after Felix a week after just so they can still be around the one that broke their heart. This time, though, he does not want to see another heart get broken.
“Jesus, chill, man… I was just asking, since you two seem closer. Did she mention anything about me? Is she dating anyone?” Jisung asks, eyes lighting up.
Felix could be an asshole. He could tell Jisung that you’re already dating someone, he could tell him to back off and that you’re not interested. However, he does not do that. Instead, he does the quite opposite. He pushes his best friend into asking you out, he tells him he should try it, because that’s just the kind of person he is. Besides, he knows you’re into him. Maybe the smile on your face could make him forget about the fact that you’re going to get your heart broken. 
“Sure, go for it.” he shrugs, “I don’t really care anyway.”
“Fine, then-”
“I’m gonna shower.” Felix says, quickly standing up from his chair and moving to the bathroom, quickly escaping the conversation.
Only then he realises what he feeling in his gut means, only then he notices the way his sigh feels like the weight of the world is sitting on his shoulders and he can’t breathe any time you’re around Han Jisung. 
He realises he likes you. 
And clearly, you don’t like him back.
Emotions are something you never quite get used to. Even the emotion of feeling rejection, the emotion of always being behind his best friend’s shadow. Lee Felix is always just the friend. Never the love interest. This time, though, it feels even more heavy, because in a way, you seem way more special in his eyes than the people that went after him just to get with his best friend.
This time, he does not want to see another heart get broken. Because it’s your heart we’re talking about.
And to prevent his heart shattering to even more pieces, he has to do something.
He has to stop liking you.
As soon as possible.
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“Y/N?” 
“Mhhm?” you ask, raising your eyes up from the cheat sheet you’re creating with Felix’s help, the grease of the fries you’re eating glistening on your chin. You’re with him in a yet another crappy bistro, trying yet another soggy fries, and even though there’s nothing special on you to a stranger’s eye, Felix’s heart can’t help but run twice the speed of light. 
“How do you stop liking someone?” he mumbles, furrowing his brows a little, deep in thought. 
“Oh, do you like someone?” you ask, and Felix momentarily lights up at the thought of you caring if he’s interested in someone, but when his eyes meet yours and he notices them glistening and lightening up in curiosity, he realises it’s just because you’re happy for him. As a good friend should be. 
“No, no,” he quickly shakes his head in disapproval, snickering to himself, “I’m just asking. Because, think, what if, hypothetically, there’s someone who is into someone else. Easy, right? But what if their best friend likes the same person? And you know you shouldn’t like them because they’re into their friend as well? What is there to do at that point?” 
You scan his face for a few seconds, thinking to yourself. “Hmm,” you start, “I guess you have to start hating them. So the feelings disappear.” you nod, satisfied with your answer.
“How’s that possible?” he asks, scoffing.
“Well, I don’t know, since it’s all hypothetical anyway,” you giggle, focusing back on your cheat sheet. Your notes are getting smaller and smaller and Felix notices the improvement in your small lettering, making your cheat sheet less noticeable. You’re learning quickly.
“Oh come on,” he whines, kicking your leg under the table, “talk to me. How can a person start hating someone? Give me a tutorial.” 
“Well, since you really need to know,” you roll your eyes, putting away the pen from your hand and resting your back against the seat of the booth, “there are a few steps you can take.”
“For example?”
“Well, you have to stop hanging out with them, first thing’s first.” you start. “Because if you don’t hang out with them, you will eventually hate the fact that they’re not near, which will, logically, make you hate them instead.”
“Is that really logical, though?” Felix asks, furrowing his brows at you. In his books, this made no sense at all, but you seemed pretty satisfied with your answer.
“Of course it is! Then, you have to find something about them that you can hate. Anything. Find even the smallest thing, and blow it up in your mind until you hate it. Easy, right?” 
“...I don’t think that’s helping at all,” he says, tone of voice unsure. 
“Of course it is! You’re just refusing that it can be true, because you think I’m stupid.” you stick out his tongue at him, focusing on your work instead.
He kicks you under the table, making you scowl. “Ow! What was that for?”
“I told you that if you’ll make that comment again, I will kick you. So I just did right that.” he says. “Besides, your ideas are stupid. Not you. There’s a difference in that.” he smartly points out, making you roll your eyes at him.
“So, who is it that you like?”
“No one. I told you, it’s hypothetical.” he glares at you.
“Right,” you nod, sighing, “well, I’ll just stick to that, since that means Jisung doesn’t like anyone and I still have a chance.” you smile at him, obviously missing out on the way your words just punched him into the gut. Felix laughs it out, kicking you in the shin instead.
“Right. Of course you do,” he nods. He wishes he didn’t mean that.
You two remain in silence for a moment, while you get back to your work and Felix pretends he’s playing a game on his phone. You don’t notice the way his eyes scan you over, admiring you, once in a while. No one ever does. He guesses this is the perk of always being just the friend. The one people are friends with just because they want something from him. The one that gets taken advantage of. He chooses not to think about it more. Maybe if he did, he could hate you over it, if he wasn’t so used to that feeling anyway. 
“We should hang out on the weekend,” you say, taking him by surprise.
“Oh?” he mumbles out, “with Jisung?”
“No?” you furrow your brows, “look, I know I look like I’m obsessed with him, but I actually just want to hang out with you alone as friends once in a while, you know.”
“We’re hanging out now, though.”
“It’s midnight, Felix,” you point out, “and we’re working. I want to hang out with my friend, like a normal person, you know.” you shrug.
“Yeah…” he says, when your words resonate in his mind like a broken curse. ‘Don’t hang out with them.’ Don’t hang out with her. You have to hate her. He has to start hating you-- there’s no other way. And so, he turns to taking your words into consideration. He can’t meet with you if he’s not ‘tutoring’ you. There’s no way. “We’ll see. I’ll tell you if I’m free.” he smiles warmly instead, because truth be told, he’ll never tell you no to your eyes. He’s always been a bit of a coward. And he also doesn’t want you to frown. Ever.
“Great!” you smile. 
And when Felix comes home that night, at 2am in the morning when his roommate is already asleep-- not knowing of your secret meetings, he lays down in his bed and repeats your advice like a broken mantra. He can’t like you. He has to hate you.
Lee Felix’s guide to hating you: 1. Don’t hang out with her. Only meet her when it’s necessary. If you don’t meet her, you’ll start hating her absence, resulting in hating her altogether. 2. Find a small thing about her to blow up so much you start to hate it. 
That’s not difficult. He hates that you like Han Jisung. It’s a small mistake, a small flaw, but he’s ready to blow it up so much he hates you for it. He hates that he’s not the first choice. He hates that you don’t like him.
Maybe he would hate you more if you were dating his best friend for real.
Lee Felix’s guide to hating you: 1. Don’t hang out with her. 2. Find a thing to hate about her. SUCCESS! 3. Set her up with Han Jisung.
Now, this plan is bulletproof, isn’t it?
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Felix unexpectedly breaks the first step of his guide only a few days later-- on a chilly friday afternoon, when his body is hurriedly skipping to the edge of the town centre only to meet with you. Just for the record, though, Felix didn’t intend to break the promise he gave to himself. He really wasn’t going to hang out with you if he didn’t specifically need to, but, well… you called Jisung to hang out. Felix’s heart almost skipped a few beats when he was added to a three-person big group chat with you and his roommate and at that point, he wasn’t going to reject an invitation to the fare in town, because he was fairly sure Jisung didn’t like rollercoasters and he wanted to see you laugh your ass off at him in front of everyone. Is it a little spiteful? Possibly. Does he care? Not that much.
Besides, it’s only one time. It will never happen again!!
He finds you with your black leather jacket on, stepping from one leg to the other, looking around like a lost puppy. Felix mentally curses at himself for not coming sooner so you wouldn’t feel so alone and awkward in the mass of people, when he realises he’s already 15 minutes late because of his afternoon class and his roommate is nowhere to be found.
“Thank god! I thought you were going to bail on me as well,” you call out when Felix is close enough, smiling at him.
“Where’s Jisung?”
“He texted me like 5 minutes ago that he can’t make it today. Something about his mum being in town? I’m not sure,” you furrow your brows, “at least you’re here now, though.”
Felix is met with the realisation that he’s left alone with you again, mentally cursing at himself. This surely does not look like a plan to hating you. It looks like a bullet-proof plan on how to fall even deeper for you, with how your stray hairs are flying around your head and you adorably scrunch up your nose and sniffle from the cold. 
“Should we go?” he forces out of himself, looking at you hopefully.
“Yeah!” you nod, striding a few steps in front of him like a happy school girl excited to go to school for the first time. Felix can’t surpass the gentle smile forming on his lips, shaking his head in disbelief. You look so cheerful and so joyful, making his heart swell with how easily you manage to make him feel so young again. 
He follows you gladly, managing to match his speed with yours, almost forgetting for a moment that he’s not on a date with you, almost forgetting about the fact that you like his best friend and the smile you’re giving him is nothing against the wide grin you offer to his roommate.
“Let’s go on that one!” you cheer, taking Felix by the hand and tugging him your way, not once giving him the opportunity of letting go as you drag him all around the fare. You remind him of his younger sister with how excited you get about the smallest things and he realises he wants to protect your heart from the world just as much as he wants to protect his little sister’s. It’s not the same feeling, though. The affection he feels for you is different. 
Felix doesn’t find it in him to tell you no whenever you tug him on another ride, even when his legs are tired and his jaw hurts from smiling. He finds himself wanting to capture your image into his brain forever, imprint the happy memory in there so he can find it and look at it whenever his heart feels lonely. For the first time in ages, he forgets about everything. He forgets that he’s just the friend, the other choice. He completely forgets that Han Jisung was supposed to be there, at his place, sitting next to you on the ferris wheel as you watch the night city under you with cold cheeks and frozen bodies.
“You must be sad that Jisung isn’t here with you right now. That would surely feel much more romantic than sitting here with me,” Felix says bitterly once the reality hits him for a second, once his heart is unsheltered for a short moment and your eyes meet.
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” you roll your eyes, “Jisung can’t be romantic. Besides, if I really wanted a date with him so badly, I wouldn’t have asked you to come with us, would I?” you smile at him, swinging your legs forward and backward, focusing your eyes somewhere into the distance again.
“Well, if you really want to go on a date with him, you can just ask him, you know?” he mumbles, playing with the dead skin on his thumb.
“So he can stand me up and go on a date with his mum again? I don’t know, Felix, is that really worth it?” you giggle, not noticing the way you’re messing with the boy’s head, not noticing the way a small spark of hope lights up somewhere in the deep pits of his stomach when you mention not wanting to ask his best friend out. 
“I don’t know, is it?”
“I’ll have to think about it.” you muse out, and the spark is gone. Of course it’s not that simple. 
Felix just nods and grins at you. The chilly air helps him hide his red cheeks when he thinks of how embarrassing his thoughts must have been in the past quick seconds. He focuses on your face, on the way your eyes crinkle up a little when you stare somewhere far into the distance and your hair flies a little with the breeze. The ferris wheel just reached the top, so he has plenty of time to keep admiring you from so close, but somehow, the moment still feels so short and he wishes he could stop the time. He wishes he could stop the time so he didn’t have to face the reality when he comes down from the ferris wheel. He wishes he didn’t have to see you fall in love with his friend, he wishes he didn’t have to act like he doesn’t care at all. 
“Thanks for helping me, by the way. I wouldn’t have passed my exams if it wasn’t for you and that… that would be really hard on me.” you get out, locking your eyes with his sincerely. He sees your eyes shining even so high above the ground, convincing him the sparkles really must be the stars, when he takes a deep breath in and responds.
“It’s no problem, I get it… I mean, it’s what you gotta do. What we gotta do, when we want to pass. And graduate,” he chuckles. 
Does he really want the degree, though? Or does he just need it to feel like he has some worth? Does he want to graduate or does he just want his parents to value him as an adult, does he really want to continue working so hard on passing or would he just be so much happier if he just dropped out. And saved himself so much stress. He should have known he was never smart enough for college.
“Yeah. I despise the smart kids in our class. I wish I were them,” you scoff, “I despise Jisung, in a way, too,” you add after a dramatic pause.
“Jisung?” Felix furrows his brows.
“Yeah,” you nod, like it’s the clearest thing in the world, “I mean, he’s smart enough to pass. He’s… he’s got his life figured out, in a way. He’s just fine. Getting all the girls and the guys, getting good grades, going on dinner dates with his mum on Fridays,” you giggle, “I mean, I want that. That sounds nice.”
Felix huffs, staring into the distance, “I guess you’re right.” He knows damn well how jealousy feels. 
“I came to college to prove to myself that my life has some worth, but I guess the only thing I prove to myself is that I can’t even pass my exams without help.” you sigh, sounding defeated.
“Hey,” he nudges you a little with his foot, “don’t say that. Life isn’t about grades, degrees and that shit. Of course you have worth and value.” 
He sees you smile in defeat, leaning your head on his shoulder. The feeling of acceptance, pure understanding washes over the two of you, when you gently speak up again. “Try to explain that to my brain.” 
He lightly giggles. “I’m trying, as you can see.”
You look up at him from his shoulder, scrunching up your nose and leaning closer to him, whispering. “It’s not working.” you laugh.
“I know it’s not easy,” he shakes his head, “I’ve been trying to tell that to my family for the past 21 years.” he slips out. Something about you makes him spill out even things he’s never told anyone before, but he finds himself not caring as you approach his eyes with pure serenity mixed with melancholy.
“Is it all because of your parents?” you ask, “the cheating, I mean.”
Felix feels his eyes giving him out, so he chooses not to look at you anymore. “I mean, I would have dropped out long ago if I didn’t have to feel so worthless around my family then. Every single one of my cousins is smart, has a degree and earns a killing. I’m just me-- living from the money I earned over summer, trying not to lose my mind with biology.”
He hears you humming next to him, your head moving as you nod in understatement. The ferris wheel is slowly reaching the bottom again and Felix finds the fact quite relieving. He doesn’t mind having deep talks with you, he just fears he might spill out something both of you don’t want to hear.
“I’m glad you came with me today, Lix.” you smile at him once the two of you reach the bottom, “wanna hear a secret?”
“Spill it out,” he dares you, grinning.
“I only invited Jisung because I thought you didn’t want to hang out with me alone.” you confess, quickly turning around in your spot as you jog a few steps in front of him, carelessly, as if you just didn’t make Felix’s heart stop and insides twitch in excitement. He prays and hopes it’s not just you giving him false hope, he wishes it’s not his mind playing tricks on him. 
“I-” 
“And now that I know you don’t mind being around me, do you wanna go to the dog cafe with me next Wednesday? You know, the one I talked about.” you turn around, flashing him a smile worth a billion dollars, taking him by surprise as his breathing hitches and he doesn’t find it in him to reject you ever again.
“Sure.”
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Second step of Lee Felix’s guide to helping you: find a small thing about you he doesn’t like to blow up so much he starts hating you altogether. 
He was so sure that he found the small thing just a few days ago. He thought that the fact that you like his best friend could be enough for him to start hating you. He could sit on that thought for long enough to pick it up to the smallest pieces and over-analyse it to the point he could start hating you. 
And he tries to do just that-- he lies awake at night thinking of how every single person he’s ever been interested in slipped right between his fingers just because of Jisung’s existence. He wonders why he’s never good enough to anyone, why he always has to be the second choice even for tutoring (even though it’s not even tutoring, but we won’t talk about that anymore). He thinks of how you’re so foolish to think your relationship with Jisung is going to last, because Jisung’s feelings never stay the same for long. He over-analyses the smallest things he notices on you when you’re in Jisung’s presence until the point he’s almost sure he can do it, he can hate you for it just a little, in a way, but then, the thought flies right out of the open window as his roommate crashes into his door in the middle of the night.
He startles awake, sitting up at his bed, watching the short male going in with much difficulty, sitting on his bed without a word.
“Jisung?”
“Lixie, I fucked it all up, didn’t I?” Jisung whines, laying down on the bed next to his friend. Felix doesn’t think it’s only due to the late hours of the night that his friend’s words aren’t making any sense, but he doesn’t dare to put his finger on it until he makes sure for himself.
“What are you talking about?”
“Y/N.”
Your name coming out of his lips hits Felix like a baseball bat, hurting in all the right places, as the young male finds it in him to continue the conversation.
“What about her?”
“She asked us to hang out together. And I didn’t go. I know it wasn’t my fault, because my mum was in the town, but still, I feel so bad, because now it must look like I’m not interested in her and that I don’t care and I really don’t want that, you know?” he stummers, making Felix realise his friend talks a lot when he’s under the influence of alcohol just the same second Jisung’s breath catches in Felix’s nose, only proving his point. 
“You didn’t fuck it up, don’t worry.” he muses. And it’s true. Jisung could never truly fuck it up with anyone. Even his exes always crumble up around his feet, wanting attention even after getting their heart broken. Will it be the same with you?
“She must think I don’t like her. And that’s horrible-that’s- that’s- I like her. Very much,” he whines again, getting closer to Felix and wrapping his arms around the blonde’s torso in a wave of affection that only washes over him when he’s drunk.
“Sung-” he stutters, desperately trying to push him away, but even though Jisung doesn’t look like it, he is a strong individual when it comes to involuntary cuddling. Felix can never escape his arms.
“I think she’s special, you know? She’s like- I can’t explain it. It’s like with her, I actually want to try. I want to ask her on dates and love her and give her my heart, because you know, I never dared to give my heart to anyone. And no one’s ever made me feel truly special before…” he mutters, forcing his nose to Felix’s neck, “I’m rambling too much, aren’t I?”
“Yeah,” Felix sighs, nodding. He doesn’t battle his arms anymore. Jisung is his friend, at the end of the day. He can hold him when he needs it.
“Sorry.” he says shortly, sighing as well. The room falls into silence and Felix’s head spins again, his thoughts spiral like a tornado and the eye of the storm is you-- standing there with that stupid smile on your face and he once again realises that he needs to hate you in order to shelter his own heart, because you’re like a hurricane when it comes a to a person’s emotions.
The fact is, though, he could never hate you for liking his best friend. 
Han Jisung is too likable for his own good. His heart is too big for this world, and truth be told, he’s been sharing it with everyone for such a long time now, he deserves to find someone he’s willing to give his all to. 
He could never hate you for liking Jisung-- the boy who smiles at everyone in the halls, the boy that offered him to live in the flat his parent’s bought for him in freshman year, the boy that helps him hide his cheating secret every day. He could never hate you for liking Jisung, because he himself knows too well how much of a treasure his dear friend is. 
He gets it. He gets why people always choose Jisung over him. He could never blame you.
“Sung?”
“Hmm?”
“Ask Y/N out to the dog cafe on Wednesday. She'll love it.”
Felix could never hate you.
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Step three of Felix’s bullet-proof guide to hating you is quite simple and actually the only one he completes with success. Setting you up with Jisung on a date is easier than he ever imagined, considering the fact that his roommate decided to finally take things into his own hands and call you on a date after the drunken weeping episode in Felix’s bed. 
Jisung invites you on a date to the dog café in town. The two of you go on Wednesday and although Felix feels like he just gave his roommate a piece of him, an invitation that was never meant for him in the first place, he feels at ease, because at least one part of his plan is working. He could never hate you, but at least now, it will be easier for him to ignore his growing feelings for you when you spend all your time with Jisung on dates and ice cream runs. He only has to ignore his feelings in school and at your ‘tutoring’ sessions. He wonders how long these will be a secret in front of your new boyfriend. Jisung’s not your boyfriend yet, but Felix can only imagine how short the time he isn’t is going to last. 
Felix does the stupid mistake of opening the instagram app in the evening, when he’s curled up in his bed with an embarrassingly big bowl of popcorn on his bed side table, serving him as his depression food. He sees your post show up, an adorable picture of you from the dog café, a big golden retriever in your lap as you giggle at its face. The picture is candid and looks like the kind Felix would like to keep as his lock screen if he had the chance. He’s sure his best friend took it for you not only from the fact that you went out with him tonight, but also for the fact that he’s tagged in the post’s description with a big blue heart emoji. 
He could stop staring at the picture if he really wanted, he could mute your posts and pretend you never existed to shelter his poor heart. He could do everything in his strength to cut all his ties with you. That would make it so much easier for him, wouldn’t it?
But he doesn't. And maybe he doesn’t even want to-- he’s used to the pain anyway, isn’t he? The bitterness, the feeling of being pushed away, ignored and left forgotten. 
He was supposed to be in Jisung’s place now, but that doesn’t change the simple fact that he isn’t-- maybe it was never his place to claim anyway. 
Felix stares at the picture for minutes, wondering of how things could be if you only didn’t fall for his best friend. Or if he came with you today. Who knows, maybe it wasn’t too late for him to ask you on a date. Maybe he could still change your mind. Felix likes to give up on things too quickly, though, and that is the curse that will follow him his whole life. 
Lee Felix is good at cheating. He is insanely good at it, he would also say it’s the only thing he’s ever been good at. Pretending.
It’s his time to shine again. It’s time to pretend he doesn’t like you, pretend you don’t hurt him, pretend he isn’t in love with his best friend’s crush. He’s been always the best at cheating and now it’s time to cheat his way out of liking you. 
Sounds easy, doesn’t it?
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“You must be really hungry, if you’re planning to eat all of that in one setting,” Felix mumbles, watching you as you eat yet another plate of chicken wings in yet another pointless bistro in town. Felix wonders how you even know about all of these, since the one you’re both sitting in right now, in the middle of the night, looks rather lonely. It doesn’t even seem that welcoming-- it has graffiti on the walls and the seats are a little torn on the edges, but you don’t seem to care as you munch on the chicken, eyes big when you stare back at your companion.
“I eat a lot when I’m stressed,” you mutter in between your bites, mouth full. You look natural like this and Felix realises this is you in his mind-- cheeks full of food, that little wrinkle in between your brows when you look at him, eyes staring big into his like a loyal dog. This is how he knows you, in your rawest form, and this is coincidentally, also, how he likes you the most. He loves and treasures every single version of you, but your late-night meetings feel of different kind of intimacy to him that he’s sure he’s going to think of even when he’s old and his college years are dusty like an old polaroid picture.  
“Stressed?” he asks, tone of voice a little more worried than usual. Felix always worries about you. Even when you quietly take out your cheat sheet from under the table and write your answers down. He doesn’t fear being caught-- he frankly doesn’t care that much, but he knows that you are having a battle with yourself and he really doesn’t want you to feel like you lost. He didn’t know it was so easy to put someone else first when you worry for the future. 
“The finals are coming up.” you clarify, the words coming out a little bashful and smitten.
“Oh.” he nods. 
You’re both quiet for a while. It would be cheesy to say the silence was comfortable, and Felix knows, he’s seen enough teenage dramas to know these words are used in situations like this, but the truth is, there’s no other way to describe it, and he understands that now. Your determination shines through all your edges and he’s glad you’re doing what you can with the resources you have. You’re not exactly studying for your Biology finals, but it’s still as hard and as stressful as that. It can feel a little embarrassing at times, but there’s no other way around it. You have to battle your enemy, even if it means the game is not fair.
“And those chicken wings are fucking good, dude,” you mutter after a while, offering him one of the paper baskets the server brought you a few minutes ago, looking rather stoned and not interested in your presence at all.
“Don’t tell me this rotten place is winning your chicken wings and fries contest,” Felix snickers, taking a bite that, to his surprise, actually tastes the best out of the amount of fast food chains and restaurants you’ve brought him to. You should never judge a book by its cover and this bistro is clearly one of the examples.
“I have only one place left to go, so we’ll see then, but I guess it might just be the top place right now,” you muse out, a wide grin decorating your features as you glance up at Felix that watches you scribble down your notes on a mini piece of paper.
“Wanna go with me there? After the finals, of course. We can celebrate if we pass,” you point out, licking your lips in nerves, “I don’t think I’ll need these ‘tutoring sessions’ anymore then, but I still want to hang out sometime.” you say, putting air quotes around the words tutoring session, looking at him with expectations in your eyes.
“Oh, sure,” he agrees, nodding. “I have to be there when you finally declare your last yelp review.”
You only laugh at him and shake your head, eating some more as you look down into your notes again, lost in work. “I still don’t get how you can do these so fast.”
“I already know what’s the most useful. You don’t have to copy the whole textbook on there.”
“You can never know! What if I’ll need it all?” you exclaim, only making him laugh harder.
He points his eyes out of the window, watching the empty parking lot. You didn’t come in your car today, telling Felix your house is close anyway, and Felix doesn’t dare to drive his car anywhere unless he doesn’t need to. He has a little bit of a trauma since the last time he drove with his dad and he almost ran the car into a tree, getting a shower of swear words and exclamations from his dear father, so he only drives his small white Renault when he needs to go home. Which is, coincidentally, next week. 
“I really don’t want to go home next week,” he sighs.
“Your family is still onto you for the smallest shit?” you ask, tone of voice sympathetic.
“Yeah. Can’t wait to graduate so I don’t have to listen to them talking about a degree anymore,” he rolls his eyes, “I only have to find myself a partner so my grandma can shut up about me being single all the time.”
You softly laugh, making Felix look at you for a moment, his heart skipping a few beats when your eyes meet for a little more seconds than usual. “I’m sorry. You can always text me, though, if you need anyone to talk or gossip with.” you say, averting your eyes from his.
“You’d have to be on your phone 24/7, then. My mental stability comes down by 70% when I’m back home and it’s already only on 15% now,” Felix snickers.
“Oh, I don’t mind. I’ll be staying here anyway.” you say, giggling.
“You’re not coming back home?”
“No,” you shake your head in disapproval, quickly glancing into his eyes before speaking up again, “it’s my parent’s wedding anniversary, so they’re going on a holiday. There’s no use in me coming home if I’m just going to be alone there anyway,” you shrug.
Felix hums, nodding in understatement. “That makes sense. I’m sorry you can’t meet your family on holidays, though.”
“It’s okay,” you say, “I see them often anyway. One Christmas won’t kill me. I have a whole season of Game of thrones to catch up on anyway.” you light-heartedly laugh, sounding like Felix’s favorite song. He smiles with you, shaking his head in disbelief at how positively you can always see the world, when he glances out of the window for a moment again, only to be met with a surprise. 
There are white flakes of snow falling from the sky and something in Felix wakes up-- something he’d call happiness, maybe even joy, when he quickly shoots up from his seat and calls you with excitement coating his voice, “Y/N! Y/N! Come on!”
“Come where? Felix, what are you-” 
He doesn’t let you finish as he takes you by the hand and tugs you on your feet, tugging you out of the empty bistro out into the dark parking lot, admiring the snowflakes falling onto the ground and every surface in his sight. He sees some stick into your hair, making him giggle as his outstretched hand dusts them off subconsciously, when he starts running around like a happy child, laughter coming out of his throat filling the silence.
“It’s snowing!” you exclaim, when Felix reaches your body frozen in its place again. He reminds you of a golden retriever when he jumps a little in his place, his feet happily crouching in the snow. You laugh at his antics when he starts acting like a little boy, this side of Felix being so new to you, yet you can’t help but feel your heart swell with admiration when he asks you to catch some snow into your mouth.
“Felix! That’s disgusting!” you refuse, laughing.
“Oh come on! It’s just water!” he cheers, leaning his head back and opening his mouth wide, waiting for the snow to fall into his mouth. 
“But it’s unhygienic and dirty! You have to be kidding me!” you still reject his idea, standing your ground firmly as always in your life so far, when a face of a boy looking like an angel takes you by surprise and his big eyes plead you in a way that makes you drop all your grudges and all your beliefs down, rolling your eyes when he pouts, leaning your head back as well and opening your mouth with a loud ‘aaaa’ sound to satisfy his foolish heart.
Once you both feel a snowflake hitting your tongues, you look at each other with your tongues out, laughing at how stupid the other one looks, pointing to your tongues. You shake your head. “It melted off, you stupid!”
“You did the same thing!” he bursts out laughing, bending over in the force of his emotions. You watch him with a wide grin plastered onto your face. It feels like watching a movie. You don’t think you’ll ever have a brighter memory with the boy in front of you, with his cheeks red from the snow and smile so wide it hurts both of your jaws.
You instinctively take his hands into yours, looking down on your feet as you start going around in a circle with him, going quicker and quicker as you watch your footprints in the snow mixing with his, the dry skin of his hands making you feel strange. You laugh out when your head starts spinning, looking up at him to find him already staring at you with stars in his eyes, when you wonder,
isn’t this how love is supposed to feel?
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All of his life, Felix had thought that family gatherings could always either go two ways, and that is: 1) a normal, boring meet-ups where your grandma asks about how school’s going, when you’re going to finally find a partner and another one of your cousin’s announces their engagement party, or 2) the actual engagement parties-- every single family member including the senile grandma from mum’s side gets drunk and you don’t have to think about more fake reasons why you have yet to lose your virginity.
You see, Felix is wrong in a lot of things. And this was surely one of them-- it’s the December 27th and he’s sitting in his grandma’s old kitchen, the wind blowing through the cracks of her window and the sweets on the table have already melted from the heat being too high, because his aunt is always cold and they can’t compromise. That sounds fine, even usual, Felix would say, however, the fire lights up a few moments later when his head starts to hurt from all the talking and he begins to dissociate a little too much, meaning that his grandma now has to shift her attention from all of his other relatives to him, because how dare he stay quiet on a family gathering where he has nothing to add to the conversation, right?
It starts off as usual, the answers to these questions digged deep into Felix’s brain since the first year of college. He doesn’t even bat an eye when he answers the questions directed at his studies and grades, telling all of his interested relatives that he’s working hard and it’s paying off. Nobody complains or disagrees-- his grades are awesome. His degree is here soon. Felix almost thinks he’s over with when his grandma laughs at a poor joke that comes out of his mouth, but that was only a bad prediction as he moves on to questions about his love life, which are, believe me or not, much more boring and much more ego-hurting for the blonde.
“Do you have a girlfriend yet, Felix?” she asks, tone of voice sounding rather interested, but don’t believe her-- it’s only an act. She’s ready to laugh into his face when he gives her the answer she’s hoping for.
“No, not yet, grandma,” he mumbles, averting his eyes from her wrinkley face as soon as possible. He really doesn’t need to look at her any longer to know she’s silently judging him on the inside, because that’s just how his grandmother is. 
“That’s such a shame… I wonder why… You’re such a pretty young boy, aren’t you?” she mutters under her nose, tone almost whiney, “what about your roommate? Jisung, was it?”
Felix takes a deep breath in, closing his eyes for a second to calm his rising heart beat. He could have predicted questions like this coming, because the conversation always somehow diverted to his roommate even when he was at home with his family. It’s crazy, how everyone just seems to adore Jisung much more than their own family member. 
“He’s.. Yeah. He’s always with someone, you know him. Not now, though, now he’s single,” Felix nods, explaining.
“Well, I’m sure he’ll find someone soon,” she admits, “he’s such a gentleman. And so handsome as well, isn’t he?” she asks, his aunt from her right side nodding quickly at the mention of Han Jisung. 
“He always has so many people around him, he’s so charming. If only you were more like him, maybe then someone would date you as well,” his grandma says calmly, not even noticing the way her words cut deeper and deeper into Felix’s heart, kicking him and punching him like a boxing bag, “you should try to be more like him.”
Felix bites down on his lower lip, rolling his eyes. Frustration coats his voice once he speaks up, the built-up anger living inside of him like an animal kept well in its cage. He doesn’t want to let it out, because he fears what it might do once it’s free, but he still retorts to a dig addressed to his grandma, huffing in annoyance. “Should I send Jisung home instead of me next time?”
“Oh no, Felix, what are you even saying right now?” his grandma looks rather offended, eyes twice their usual size as she glares at him.
“Well, since you like him so much.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I was just saying that-”
“Leave it.” Felix says. 
The atmosphere is too heavy now, all eyes on him as if he was in a circus, watching him just moments before his breaking. He realises he no longer feels welcome in this place and maybe he never did, he just chose to ignore it by now, because that’s what he always does when a problem appears-- he chooses ignorance. Ignorance is Felix’s best friend, and although it may sound like he’s running away from his problems all the time, it’s always worked so far. He’s just protecting his heart, building walls around it. 
He doesn’t want to fight. He hates conflict. So, even though he’d like to snap, even though he’d like to leash out like an animal, he doesn’t. He steps back-- as he always does, taking the car keys from the table and escaping the house, hearing the calls of his mother after him. He doesn’t bother to say goodbye, he doesn’t even bother to look back nor take the Christmas gifts his grandma brought for everyone. 
He sits into the small white Renault he drives once a year when he comes back home, starts the engine and speeds up to the limit, driving away from all of his problems. He doesn’t want to hear their complaints, he doesn’t want to listen. It’s the best this way. He wants to ignore the words that came out of his grandma’s mouth, but he can’t find it in him as he hears them resonate in his head over and over again. 
He’s the second choice even in his own family. He’s a joke to everyone, isn’t he? Just the side character, the one that never gets the spotlight. It hurts, it hurts him so much, but he pays no attention to his blurry vision, because even though he’s fairly sure no one from his family would miss him, he doesn’t want to drive off the road and kill himself with his escape.
He parks the car in front of his and Jisung’s flat after a few hours. He’s fairly good at it, considering he never drives, and mentally puts up a middle finger to his dad in his head for screaming at him so much. He was in a much calmer headspace when he was driving with his dad than he was now, yet, he didn’t manage to drive anyone over. 
Putting his feet into the cold, empty apartment, turning the heating on and plopping down on the sofa, he once again realises how lonely it feels. Not only because of the feeling of abandonment the dark flat resonates, but also due to the fact that it truly feels like now, he’s all alone in this world. The silence screams louder than any words ever could, his ears lowly ringing without any sound in the small room, which makes him wonder if he’s truly the only one that has to spend his holidays pretty much alone. Maybe it’s his fault that he’s fucked it up with his family, who knows-- but that’s a topic for another overthinking session of his, when he decides to let it go once his eyes meet the snow silently falling down behind the window. 
The dark mixed with the white balls of fluff in the air remind him of you. Your bubbly laugh, the feeling of your skin on his when you held his hands and danced around with him in the snow. He feels a smile growing on his face, despite everything he’s heard today, his fingers involuntarily texting you to see if you’re doing anything and if you can hang out with him today. 
He meets you at the door a few minutes later, your nose runny from the cold and hands dry, smiling at you with a sense he can only describe as belonging, because he realises, maybe you feel just as lonely as him on holidays and suddenly, he no longer feels sorry for leaving.
“Why are you even here, Lix? Shouldn’t you be at home?” you ask him when you’re taking off your shoes and hanging your coat on the hanger by the door. He bites down on his lower lip to suppress a bitter chuckle. 
“Christmas got cancelled this year.” he shrugs. 
It’s not like he doesn’t trust you. You know better than anyone what his struggles are-- he asked you to keep his secrets numerous times. It’s just that now that you’re here, it’s like his soul finally feels calm and he no longer wants to whine about his grandma or his aunts anymore. It’s just you and him and the empty apartment. If he was anyone else, maybe he’d try to get into your pants. He’s just Lee Felix though, and he’s absolutely, wholeheartedly in love with you, he realises, and believe me, it kind of takes him over the edge, and so he doesn’t try anything. 
And you look at him in understatement, no other questions asked.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. It’s all a capitalistic holiday anyway,” he shrugs.
You follow him into the living room and he throws the remote control into your lap, telling you to choose a movie before he comes back with popcorn. 
“If you don’t pick anything before I’m done, we’ll just watch Venom, I don’t care,” he says, seeing you adorably scrunch up your nose at him in response. 
When he comes back and you’re waiting for him with Howl’s moving castle paused on Netflix, he can’t help but grin at you. He places the popcorn on the coffee table and notices himself staring onto your body next to his far more often than the TV and wonders if he really drove away from all of his problems or if he just drove away from one problem to another, because now, it’s getting really hard to focus on staying away from you. 
And when you shiver and curl up into his side, placing your head onto his shoulder, he can’t help but jolt at the contact, staring at you in surprise. 
“It’s cold,” you mumble, pouting.
Felix smiles. He rolls his eyes at you, even though on the inside, he finds you absolutely adorable, taking a blanket from the side of the sofa and putting it over your cold bodies, tucking you both in. You feel warm against his side, your hand resting on his chest. He wonders if you can feel his quickening heartbeat, his stiff body and the nerves rising in his heart. Everything else disappears, the fight back home long forgotten and Han Jisung left somewhere home with his own family, the weight of your body overwhelming him when you fall asleep and that’s when he stops and thinks,
isn’t this how home’s supposed to feel like?
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The halls of the university building are empty as Felix stands right in front of the closed door, silently pacing around the corridors and bumping his knee up and down. He just got his final’s results and even though his soul was supposed to be at peace, he finds himself stressing over you, currently sitting in the room behind the closed door in front of him, getting your final’s results from biology back. The professor decided to split your class into two groups for the finals so you can, quote, ‘focus better when there’s less people around’ and even though you managed to cheat on your exams without any problems, he still wonders if you did well and if you passed. 
Once the voices behind the closed doors get louder and louder, he figures it’s near the end of your lecture and he can finally see you again and ask you how you did. 
The last time he talked to you without the stress of finals breathing onto your back was back on Christmas break-- more than a week ago. Ever since then, you two have been meeting in the middle of the night again, preparing for your upcoming tests. You didn’t really manage to talk a lot about anything else and even though Felix didn’t mind, he still missed your mindless rambles and weird jokes you used to crack when you weren’t stressing your mind off. 
The door opens and reveals people coming out, a few of them wearing a toothy grin on their faces as they glance on the paper in their hands, a few of them frowning as they pin their eyes to the ground. It’s not easy to differentiate the ones that passed and the ones who did not do that well and even though Felix feels sorry for them, he wonders why they just don’t cheat their way out of bad grades just how he does. It’s not that hard. It just takes a lot of practice. 
Once he finally sees your face, a big, toothy grin decorating your lips, a big stone falls off his heart, a weight lifts itself from his shoulders, because frankly, you wouldn’t look so happy if you failed, right? You’re not a total psychopath.
“How did you-” 
His words are cut off from his mouth, all air kicked out of his body once he feels you so close, the soft skin of your lips pressed up against his in a happy kiss. He’s startled, to say the least. His cheeks are reddening in the instance and he doesn’t even know if time stopped or if it’s just the rising anxiety and excitement in his chest, but he bites down the confusion and kisses you back finally, closing his eyes and bringing you close by your shoulders. The kiss is a little sloppy and messy, but he doesn’t mind-- all that’s occupying his mind right now is you, your sweet lips, your mouthy kiss, your excited hands creeping up around his neck, your bag that fell to the ground next to his feet, your exam paper marked with the big red A+ flying around the two of you when you let it fall from your grasp, your hair tickling his cheeks, you, you, you.
There’s only you. In the air he breathes, in the ground he walks on, in his hands and on his mind. You’re everywhere. Intoxicating.
You pull away from him after a while, grinning at him. It still manages to startle him a little-- how just the small gesture can light up his whole world, how your smile can make him feel like he’s the luckiest person on this earth. He sees stars in your eyes and he wonders who put them there, hoping to be the one, believing he could finally be the one, with how you look at him and hold him in your arms-
but it’s Felix’s life we’re talking about. There’s only you, you, you and maybe somewhere, far away in the distance, there could even be him, but who’s always there for sure is Han Jisung.
Han Jisung staring at the two of you from the open door, mouth agape in shock. Han Jisung with trembling hands, Han Jisung with his books clutched close to his chest as Felix’s heart drops and reality finally hits him. You were never supposed to be his to kiss. You were supposed to be Jisung’s-- his roommate’s, his best friend’s -- you fell for him long, long ago and that’s how it’s always been. 
He opens his mouth to say something, anything, to comfort his dear friend that looks like he’s heart’s being broken, but he finds no words in him to console his actions. He feels bad, he feels so, so guilty when their eyes meet, but he doesn’t manage to say anything before Jisung turns around the corner and leaves. 
The sound of Jisung’s quick steps is the only thing resonating in Felix’s mind like a bell, a signal for him that he fucked up, he did a really, really bad thing. 
His insides clutch and eyes water in the empty college corridor when he wonders,
is this how it feels to break someone’s heart?
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You kick the small rocks beneath your feet, gazing into the distance. The cold in your bones makes you shudder, your eyes trailing around the neighbourhood so foreign to you, putting your hands into your pockets so you shelter your fingers from the frozen air. You think how this place looks exactly as you imagined it to-- tall apartment complex and a single big tree in front of it, the cars parked in the driveway obviously having their spot as the neighbours have lived together for a long time to know not to park anywhere else, because it’s more efficient this way. 
You’re waiting and waiting, hoping to see the one you’re waiting for soon, because you doubt your confidence will last you for any longer if you don’t talk to him now. You could lie and tell yourself it’s okay and that you’re not nervous at all, but after Jisung ran away the other day and his roommate followed him a few moments later, you feel nervousness creeping into your skin after not seeing or hearing from Felix for three days now. 
You remember him telling you that he likes to go for late-night convenience store runs every evening to get his favorite snacks. It wasn’t hard to find out where he lives-- it’s the 21st century, for god’s sake. You asked a friend of his friend and here you are, waiting  for him to appear in the door of his apartment complex, ready to talk to him about the events of this week.
Once you hear the door opening, you feel your head snap to its direction quicker than the speed of light, knees almost getting weak at the sight of Lee Felix standing there, confusion written all over his face once his eyes meet with yours. The frown forming on his face only deepens your stress as you wonder if he didn’t want to see you today, which, considering the fact that he’s been ignoring you for the past few days, might just be the case, but it still makes your heart break just a little when you hear him sigh once he makes his way over to you, the sound of his sneakers on the ground being the only thing heard in the middle of the night.
All the snow has melted-- as if all the bright things have left just in time with it, leaving you sad and cold, the clouds of your breath hitting the cold air being the only thing reminding you of the weather as you feel your body heating up in his presence. 
“Can we talk?” you ask, voice steadier than you expected it to be.
“I- I mean,” he starts, a shaky and husky voice hitting your ears, signaling that he probably hadn’t spoken to anyone for a long time now, “you’re already here, so I guess…”
You nod at him, averting your gaze quickly to the ground, when you realise you suddenly don’t know what to say. You try to search for words, yet none come out of your mouth. Your mind is blank and it seems like his presence took away all your vocabulary, but deep on the inside, you know damn well that if you don’t speak up now, you won’t have a second chance and you really have to get it now.
“Why- why…” you mutter, “why did you leave without saying anything the other day?” you ask.
The silence is overwhelming as you start to hate the sound of your own breath, opting to hold it for a few seconds as you await his response. 
“I mean, isn’t it obvious?” 
You shake your head in confusion, finally meeting his eyes again. “No.”
“Jisung… Jisung saw us. I didn’t feel like it was right,” he explains, cracking his knuckles in a nervous habit you noticed in him a long, long time ago when he first tried to teach you how to cheat in class without getting caught.
“What does he have to do with anything?”
“You two like each other.” he says bluntly, taking you off-guard.
The moment these words come out of his mouth, you realise not one, but two things. One of them is fairly new to you, the fact that Han Jisung liked you back was something you never knew you could experience, but even though you should be flattered, you realise it no longer holds a meaning in your heart. The second thing is connected to the first-- and that is, Lee Felix doesn’t know that you like him now. His foolish, silly mind convinced him you were still in love with his best friend, his confused and frustrated brain didn’t let him realise that for a long, long time now, the freckled boy in front of you has been the only one you thought about when you were falling asleep at night.
You don’t even know when it happened. You guess it just did. You wondered how it’d feel to know what exactly made you fall for Felix, what that moment was, but something inside of you is telling you that maybe, it was even more wonderful this way. Unexpected, but totally reasonable.
“Why would I be kissing you if I still liked Jisung?” you ask, the fear of directly confessing to him and getting rejected creeping up in your shadow.
“I- I don’t know-”
“Exactly.” you cut him off before he rambles and manages to find a stupid, silly reason in his head to justify his wrong expectations. You know how he is-- if he overthinks things hard enough, he’ll surely find an answer. There’s none, though, so you don’t dare to give him time to think about it and ponder on the thought for any longer.
“But that doesn’t matter now anyway,” he shrugs, putting his hands into his pockets.
You wonder what’s going on inside of his head right now. You wonder if he regrets what he’s done-- if he wants to turn back time and never let you kiss him. The nerves make you bite down harshly on your bottom lip and you only catch yourself when you feel iron in your mouth, quickly licking your own wound on the surface of your mouth and take a deep breath in. 
“Why?” you ask. 
“Why would it?” he says, eyes boring into yours.
“Because… I thought it meant something to you? I mean, it meant a lot to me, at least. That’s why I’m even here in the first place,” you chuckle airly, feeling your throat get dry.
“I’m not saying that it didn’t, I just think it had no point.”
His words feel like knives thrown into your chest, like a fire burning the pit of your stomach. You feel your legs getting weaker at his arguments, your fingers harshly tugging at the skin of your cuticles hidden in your pockets. You don’t trust your voice to sound steady this time when you speak, but you don’t care. Maybe it’s time to show your real emotions. Maybe it will change Felix’s mind.
“And why is that?”
“Because people like you don’t date people like me. You’re supposed to be in love with Jisung. You’re supposed to be dating him, he’s supposed to date you. You’re too good for me anyway.” he shrugs.
“Is this all about Jisung?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed.
You watch Felix sharply inhale in and out, averting his eyes from your figure. The distance between the two of you is unnatural, as if to singal how the two of you are slowly drifting apart. You see him fold his hands on his chest, preparing for what he’s about to say.
“It hurt him, back then. And I hate that. He loves you and I just.. I can’t do that to him, when I know  how much he cares about you.” he says.
Love is a strange thing. You hear Felix say how much Jisung loves you, but is that really true? Does Han Jisung even know you? The real you?
Does Jisung know how you look with your mouth full of fries and a greasy forehead? Does he know how you look when you’re stressed out of your mind because of finals? Does he know your favorite bistro, does he know your favorite movie? Did you cuddle up with Jisung on the couch just because you wanted to be close to him, comfort him and tell him you’re there just a few days after Christmas? 
Or does he just know the self you put up in front of him when you went to meet him? The put-together you that cares even about the sound of your own laugh, not wanting it to sound ugly in his ears? 
Han Jisung can’t love you. He doesn’t even know you.
And you never loved him-- just for the same reason. The feelings you had for him were merely a feeling of attraction, so far away from love.
But now you know how you feel about Felix, how his smile lights up the world and how his presence makes you feel understood. How even the silence with him speaks louder than a million words, how he knows you like the back of his hand and how he treats you like his closest friend. You know that what you feel when you’re with him is stronger than anything you ever have and although it used to scare you for a moment, now you’re ready to embrace it and live with it, if he lets you.
Lee Felix doesn’t tell you he loves you. Maybe you can see it in his eyes.
Why does he have to put everything above love? Why does he care about Jisung more than you? It’s breaking your heart. 
“Felix… I’m sure he’d understand. He’s a good person. I’m sure he’d want you to be happy.”
“Y/N, you don’t understand-”
“He’s a grown adult!” you yell out, the built-up emotions coming to the surface in the form of frustration, your words sunding spiteful and angry. Maybe you are furious, maybe you are full of fire right now, but it’s all because of the boy in front of you and the things he refuses to let himself enjoy.
“Why do you even care about it so much, huh? I was your fucking second choice all along anyway!” 
You look at him in shock, your eyes watering at the sight of the frown sitting on his face. Something inside of you breaks and you think it’s safe to say it was your heart, choking you up as you shake your head in disapproval. 
“Felix-” you protest, but there’s no use.
You see him turn around on his heel, opening the door to the apartment complex and leaving. It feels like you’re losing him, it feels like he’s gone forever. He turned his back on you, refusing all the love you were willing to give him, all the love you were offering to him right here, your heart in your hands.
He gave up on your love.
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People in movies go out to party after a break-up to get drunk and numb their feelings. They either go to the club or go to a stupid college party, which is, coincidentally, your case today, but you’re not here to get drunk tonight. You’re not here to drown out your feelings and numb your pained soul-- you’re simply here to try to have some fun.
Your mum told you long, long ago that happiness is a choice. You could argue with her and tell her that depression and heartbreak aren’t a choice and that they, by themselves, are causing people the most sadness, but you had to give your mum a point. If you don’t choose to try, if you don’t do anything to at least try to stimulate your own brain, you can’t expect happiness to find you by itself. That’s just, sadly, not how life works, and you weren’t going to drown out in your own tears just because of Lee fucking Felix, because if you weren’t worth trying for him, he’s not worth any of your tears.
You appear on Lee Haechan’s end of the semester party. You have A+ finals to celebrate and although you would be much happier to drink to them with the one that basically helped you get through the semester, you won’t pass the chance to socialize. You worked hard and you did a good job-- you deserve a party. Alcohol truly isn’t the best for your brain, but you will just decide to call it selfcare. It’s not like you’re getting blacked-out drunk tonight anyway.
You manage to have small talk with a few people from your class. Though it’s not exactly what’s stimulating your brain, you don’t mind it. You barely know these people and you couldn’t care less, but you guess this is the downside of socialising. 
The alcohol in your veins doesn’t give you a chance to loosen up, though. You only feel your body warmer with the beer hitting your system, but your feelings still taste of salt, your brain not cooperating with your grandiose happiness plan and you think the people talking to you notice, since no one really tries to keep you in a conversation long enough when you start to absently nod at them and pay zero attention to what they’re saying. You don’t blame them, though. You’d probably do the same in their place.
Your feet move their way to the front door when you decide that maybe your mum wasn’t right, completely ready to go home and pity yourself for a few more days before coming back to life, when a familiar voice calls you from behind, making you freeze in your spot.
“Y/N, long time no see.”
Han Jisung watches you with glossy eyes, yet he tries to look nonchalant at the sight of you. It doesn’t feel like his heart is breaking when he sees you right here and there, chewing on your bottom lip, more or less, it feels numbing to his heart and his head. It’s like he expected it all from the start-- the outcome that once so surprised him. But after all this time he spent overthinking and dwelling on the memory of seeing you kissing his best friend, it made sense to him. 
“Jisung…”
He can see your eyes growing worried when you watch over him and he mentally slaps himself for not handling his emotions with more care back then. He could have spared you a lot of pain and trouble if he hadn’t reacted in such a way in the doorway of your classroom, but the truth is, Han Jisung hadn’t really known just how much a true heartbreak feels and nothing could ever prepare him for the physical pain numbing his chest. He didn’t know it could hurt so much. 
He doesn’t want to worry you. You are still his friend, after all, right? That’s all you always have been and he should have understood it from the first moment he saw you gaze at his friend so lovingly in the university halls one day. He thinks you, yourself, didn’t even recognise the emotion in you when you watched over Felix with so much care, with so many stars in his eyes and a big grin on your face. He could never compare himself to Felix.
He doesn’t want to worry you anymore, and so he decides to talk to you like a friend would. You looked like you could use a friend tonight.
“How have you been?” he asks, smiling at you. He hopes his eyes convey the emotion he feels-- how after all this time, he still feels comfortable with you and desperately needs you to do the same. He can’t lose another friend. Not to love. 
That happens every single time. Truth be told, Jisung used to have a problem with differentiating true love from platonic feelings sometimes. He used to think he falls out of love just as quickly as he falls in, but the truth is that it was never even love at all. Sometimes, it was just pure admiration. Feelings for a friend. And he managed to ruin all his friendships just because he started dating them. 
And then, he just kept searching and searching for the right one, because no one ever felt right. No one ever made him feel loved, no one ever made him feel love. It felt suffocating, but so, so addicting. He could never give up on trying to find love.
And then he met you. And it finally made sense-- it finally felt right.
“I’m… I’m fine, thanks,” you say, smiling at him with that smile that still, admittedly, made his heart race and swell with love. He’s not afraid to call the emotion by its name. It doesn’t feel wrong. He used to think he wants it to stop, but the truth is, it still feels nice. 
Love feels like loneliness sometimes. It’s a bittersweet feeling. But it’s still so, so addicting.
“Are you sure?” he asks. He knows you. He knows when something’s wrong.
He also knows your eyes have been searching for his roommate for the past few minutes of your conversation. He knows you want to meet him and avoid him all at once, love him and leave him-- it was a paradox. 
He knows his roommate way too well, though. He knows he can’t fall out of love with you. He knows, though, that he’ll never act upon it. Lee Felix has always been the sweetest person in this whole entire world-- putting the needs of others before his own. He can’t keep doing this to himself.He can’t keep doing this to you.
“I think you know the answer, Jisung. Why do you keep asking, then?” you bitterly snicker, going around him and escaping the noisy house. Jisung doesn’t know if you want to leave, if you want to escape his presence, but he can’t leave you just like that, and so he follows you outside, seeing you sitting at the doorstep, as if you were waiting for him.
“You don’t have to think of me, you know that, right?” he says once he takes a seat next to you, watching your expression change into a pained one. 
“It’s… I don’t know. It’s complicated. And Felix- he doesn’t think it’s right. I can’t force him into anything. It was his choice anyway,” you mutter. Jisung sighs heavily, the feeling your words on his chest heavy and solemn. He hates the fact that he is standing in the way of your happiness. He hates the fact that he is the problem, the invisible wall keeping you two from each other. 
“It’s simple, though.” he shrugs.
Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, a heavy sigh escaping your lips. He takes it upon himself to explain before you begin to tell him that it’s not, opting to open your eyes on his own.
“You two are in love with each other. So you should be together. Isn’t that simple?” he asks, smiling at you subtly.
You scoff and shake your head. “He gave up on us.”
“Did he, or did he just do what he felt was right?” Jisung argues. “You can’t keep hiding from each other. You can’t keep trying to ignore your feelings just because I like you. That’s not fair for either of you.”
You don’t argue with him this time. He wonders what’s going on inside of your head at the moment, with your eyebrows furrowed and your bottom lip trapped in your teeth. You look just like all the times he watched you during your tutoring sessions-- focused and lost in thought. It will feel weird to not see you in that way anymore, but he has to try.
The same way Lee Felix always tried for him.
“You’re too sweet, Han Jisung. What a shame our timing’s off.” you say, bitterness coating your voice. He looks up at you again, wondering what your words mean. “I used to like you back then, you know,” you smile.
Here it is, the strange emotion again. The emotion of almost physical pain, a hand squeezing his heart, a knife stabbed into his back. It feels like his world is crumbling down on him, because he’s stupid-- so stupid. He could have had you back then. He could have been with you all this time, only if he wasn’t late. He missed his biggest chance, the biggest opportunity, the happiest time of his life. All because he was too hesitant. 
He didn’t deserve you anyway.
“But now your timing’s right with Felix. Don’t waste that,” he says, biting through the pain.
Because the truth is, if anyone deserved love, it was his roommate. The one that refused you for him, the one that rejected you for him, the one that set him up on a date with you even though you invited him in the first place. The one who gave up on his love only so he wouldn’t hurt his friend. You could say that Jisung was too good for this world, but Lee Felix is the one that deserves the whole entire world, in his eyes.
Maybe these two were just too good of friends. Caring about the other one twice as much as about themselves. And that’s exactly why Jisung will get over this-- he’ll push you to his friend. So he could be happy, finally. 
“Jisung, I don’t know-”
“Do it,” he cuts you off, “reach out to him again. Try it. For me.”
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y/n: meet me at the 8Bistro at 9 
Felix can’t believe himself when he finds his legs moving to the direction of the bistro at the edge of the town. He knows it’s the last one on your list, the one you invited him to so you could celebrate your finals in and he finds himself wondering if he could have gone here with you earlier only if the two of you didn’t share that kiss back then.
That damned kiss he couldn’t stop thinking about for the last few days-- even weeks, every time he opened his eyes in the morning and closed them when he was about to sleep. It kept following him like a curse, a thing he couldn’t escape, as if it was testing him like the snake tested Eve in paradise. Foreign fruit. 
You’re sitting there already when he arrives, fingers playing with each other as you gaze at the door in expectation. He sees your usual order already on the table, assuming you got here early, but it’s untouched as your knee bumps up and down under the table and you bite down harshly on your bottom lip.
He takes a seat, allowing himself to look at you again after such a long time. It feels like it’s been ages, yet you still look the same to him-- the same beauty that hit him when he first met you and shared his biggest secret with you.
“Why aren’t you eating? You have to finish off your list,” he mumbles awkwardly, motioning to the food at the table.
“I wanted to wait for you.” you say. Your voice is quiet, almost shy, when you speak to him. He wonders just how much he fucked up that it made you act this way. He knows it’s probably a lot, but considering he’s sitting here right now, he can still fix it.
At least he hopes so. 
“Did you.. Do you want to talk to me about something?” he asks, nervosity filling his veins as he feels his hands form a little swimming pool with just how much he’s sweating.
“Yes,” you nod, taking a deep breath in and out. He wonders if you’re just as nervous as he is. The answer is probably yes, considering your tense shoulders and restless legs, but he doesn’t comment on it as he watches you begin speaking again. “I wanted to tell you that I’m- I’m in love with you. And that it’s for real, and it’s for you and no one else,” you start, quickly wetting your lips and continuing again, “and I know you must feel like a second choice, or like you weren’t important to me at all, but that’s not true.”
“You helped me so much, really, but the more I hung out with you, the more I realised just how wonderful you are. And how your heart is so big, how you’re fun to be around…” you ramble, taking Felix by surprise with your heart-felt monologue, “and that Jisung is not the one for me, because, well, it was just.. it was just a crush. I didn’t know him. He didn’t even know me that well. Crushes… they don’t mean anything. They’re silly. But what I have with you, Felix…” you say, drifting your eyes away from him for a second,
“I know you. The real you. And you know me. You’ve seen me at my worst. You’ve seen me struggle and you know exactly how to help. You know me and I know you and the feelings I have for you are much more than a silly crush. I love you, Felix. And I don’t want to just forget about us.” you complete and Felix swears he can feel his eyes watering at your words. He chooses not to speak up, afraid of his voice breaking, afraid he’s going to embarrass himself in front of you. His emotions got the best of him and right here and now, no one else matters. 
It’s you. You that feels like home, you, the only girl he’s ever loved. You, the only girl that ever loved him back, you, who he foolishly rejected. 
You’re everywhere. In his veins, in his heart, in his foolish, stupid mind.
“Felix… I don’t want you to give up on us.” 
He looks up, seeing your sincere eyes and a look full of worry. You seem so wonderful to him, even now. You’re everything he’s ever dreamt of, a home without a roof and walls. With you, he feels at ease. He trusts you. He’s never felt this way for anyone before.
He watches you and he hears your laugh, he hears your whines when he used to tease you so much. He hears the sound of your memories when he chased you around in the snow. He hears the opening song of Howl’s moving castle, reminding him of the warmth he felt when you hugged him so close that evening.
He used to want to hate you. He should have known that could never be the case.
You’re all he needs-- all he wants. You’re everywhere he looks, in every beauty of the world and in everything that’s dear to him. 
You, you, you, you.
And so he decides-- it’s time to change his plan.
Lee Felix’s bullet-proof guide to loving you: 1) hold her hand, 2) get rid of the guilt, 3) lean in and kiss her.
“Does that mean you’re giving us a chance?” you ask, hopeful eyes glaring at him with millions of stars in them, sparkles swimming around in perfection.
“We’ll talk after you eat. You have a yelp review to write,” he laughs.
“Feli-”
Lee Felix’s bullet-proof guide to loving you: 4) shut her up by forcing french fries into her mouth.
“I love you too.”
2K notes · View notes
ninebluehearts · 2 years ago
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Hey I was wondering can you do a Marc Spector/Steven grant/ Jake Lockley x reader where the reader has Wanda’s powers and has know Steven for a month and they’ve gotten close to the point where she asks him out but he misses there date due to Marc taking the body to the alps, Steven shows up to the restaurant two days later and calls her to ask her where she is and she reveals that it was Sunday not Friday and he missed there date, not wanting to lose her he offers an explaintion and she tells him they’ll talk about it in person the next day. She arrives at his apartment and eventually find the scarab in the duffel bag Steven brought in (not knowing what it is) she hides when the police barge in and follows Steven to harrows place. The reader gets wrapped into stopping Harrow when she decided to follow Marc to Cairo to help Steven but Marc is very angsty towards her and they fight like an old married couple because secretly Marc likes her but struggles to admit it in fear of rejection so instead he hopes that being mean to her will push her away but in the end they get their happy ending (Layla doesn’t exist)
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Warnings: Knifes, murder, etc.
A/n: I'm gonna be dead honest, Wanda's powers changed so much over the movies and shows that I'm fully basing this off of what I remember- Sooo, don't come for me if I messed anything up! I hope this is what you were picturing!! I'm sorry it took me so long to write this 😅 Also, this is the longest fic I've ever written, so please enjoy 💕
-------------------------------------------------------
You've only known Steven for a little over a month now, but you already knew that you were starting to fall for him. He was just so sweet and kind, you couldn't help it. Ever since you stumbled into him at the museum, you couldn't stop thinking about him.
Steven had been carrying a box filled with assorted stuff animals that were dressed up as the ancient gods of Egypt, walking back over to his small desk in the corner room, a large LED sign above reading "GIFT SHOP."
The box was surprisingly heavy from the amount of stuffed toys, causing Steven to only focus on getting the box to his desk without dropping it, instead of his surroundings. He glanced over at his desk for just a second, getting ready to shout to a Mom and her son that he would be with them in a moment, when he crashed into you.
Causing not only both of you to fall over, but also the box he had been carrying, the stuffed animals now scattered across the floor. "Oh! I'm so, so sorry, ma'am!" He stammered, quickly getting onto his knees and grabbing up the fallen toys.
"Don't worry about it! Here," You said as you stood up, starting to dust off your clothes.
Steven watched in shock as the toys made their way back into the box on their own. He looked up at you, only to find a strange red cloud surrounding your fingers.
Once the toys were back in the box, you bent over and picked it up, then held it out to Steven. "Here you go! Oh, I'm y/n by the way." You said with a kind smile.
"Uhm, Steven.. And thank you.." He mumbled as he took the box from you, obviously still shocked from what just happened.
"Don't worry about it! Hey, you wouldn't happen to know anything about the Statue of Menkaure, would you?" You had asked, following him back to his desk.
You explained how you needed to write a paper on it for your college essay, but you had no idea where to begin. He actually offered to tutor you and you agreed, giving him your personal phone number and address.
After your seventh study session with Steven Grant, you finally decided to ask him out, sick of your hands 'accidentally' touching, or catching each other staring at the other. Luckily for you, he said yes, both of you settiling on dinner Thursday night.
Which was today.
You spent the entire day getting ready, picking out the perfect outfit, even getting your hair, nails, and make up done. You arrived at Tróger Gasztró Bisztró at nine o'clock. Just on time. And so you found your table, texted Steven to let him know you were there, and waited. And waited.. And waited.. ten thirty rolled around and you were asked to leave due to the restaurant closing.
You were absolutely heartbroken. You didn't know if you should be sad or angry. On the one hand, he obviously stood you up. But he also wasn't answering any of your calls or texts, which made you worry. You went home and flopped down onto the couch, refusing to let any of your tears fall just yet.
So, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. "He'll call." You said to yourself, before getting up to getting yourself ready for bed.
-
You kept your phone turned up for the rest of the weekend, checking it every time it made a noise or vibrated. After hearing nothing from him all day Saturday, you gave up and spent the day at home on Sunday. You were curled up on the couch, eating ice cream out of the tub while watching a new season of Gossip Girl when your phone started to ring.
Steven
You hit the 'answer' button then pressed your phone against your ear, sighing before answering with a, "What do you want?" You wanted to give him a chance to explain himself, but you were just so mad.
"Hey! Um, is everything alright? I thought we agreed on 9:00.. it's half past.." He sounded so nervous, it almost broke your heart.
"Yeah, 9:00 o'clock on Thursday." You said, starting to get really annoyed. What was this, some kind of joke?
"Yeah, today?" Steven said, confusion evident in his tone.
"Three days ago, Steven! What is this? You stand me up and now you're rubbing it in my face? Haha, very funny, jackass!" Tears started to well up in your eyes, threatening to spill over.
"W-What? No- today is Thursday- I just.."
"No, Steven, welcome to Sunday. Lose my number." But right as you were about to hang up, Steven's panicked voice yelled to you through the phone.
"Wait! Please, listen, can I try again? Please? I promise, I-I'll explain everything! Please?"
You sighed. You didn't want to be stood up again, but you were also kind of worried still. He did sound genuinely confused.. "Fine. When and where?"
"Will you come over to mine? I can even make you tea! How does 3 o'clock sound?"
"Fine, just text me the address." You then hung up, staring at the wall, wondering if you just made the stupidest mistake of your life, or the best one.
-
The next day, you arrived at Steven's flat fifteen minutes earlier than you agreed, wanting to see him as soon as possible. But as you walked up to the door, hand reaching out to knock on the thick wood, the panic started to set in. What if this is someone else's address? What if he gave me the wrong one on purpose? What if, what if, what if..
But as you started to pull your hand away from the door, getting ready to leave, you heard a man yelling in the small apartment. Steven. You could recognized that british accent anywhere. Without over thinking it again, you reached up and knocked on the door five times. "Steven? It's me!" You called out, waiting for a response.
"Of course I'm gonna let 'er in! Bugger off, mate!" You heard Steven whisper yell as he started to unlock the door. And when he opened it, you were met with those beautiful, tired brown eyes that you absolutely adored. "Sorry 'bout that, love. Come in! Please!" He held the door open for you, motioning for you to come in with a wave of his arm.
"Are you sure? I can come back if you have someone over." You leaned forward and glanced around his flat, trying to see who he was talking to.
"What? Oh, no, no, no! Don't worry about that. I-I was on the phone! Yeah.." As you walked into the small space, Steven shut the door behind you, locking two out of the three locks. "Just go on a make yourself comfortable, love, I'll just be a seco-"
"Are you leaving?" You interrupted as you picked up the black duffle bag that had been sitting on his table.
"Oh, no, please don't touch that!" Steven took a step towards you, but stopped when you looked at him, tilting your head with a confused look on your face.
'Steven, they'll come after her too if she looks at what's in there.' Marc warned from the reflection in Gus' tank.
"What's in it?" You set the bag down on the table and slowly unzipped it, glancing inside before looking back at Steven, panic evident on his features.
"Listen, love, you don't wanna touch that! Lord knows I wish I didn't." He mumbled, glancing at the fish tank. "Listen, maybe we should res-" Steven was cut off by a loud bang on the door. "Bloody hell.." He mumbled, making his way over to the door.
You turned back to the bag and quietly dug around. You pushed past a passport, two stacks of American and Egyption money, and even a gun. But the thing that really captured your attention was a small golden beetle. "What the..?" You whispered, glancing over at Steven before pocketing the beetle.
"Uh, now?" Steven asked, starting to panic as the people outside asked to come in. You didn't have a good feeling about this, so you quietly ran over to the window, climbing out of the apartment and onto the roof, hiding further up and out of the way behind the brick frame surrounding the window.
You waited a good twenty minutes before slowly making your way back down and into the apartment again. "Steven?" You called out, cautiously looking around the flat, only to find that it was empty. "What the fuck.." You mumbled, walking over to check the apparently empty bathroom.
You looked out of the window and saw a strange black car speeding away from the building. "Jesus Christ." You ran out of the apartment, accidentally pushing an old lady as you raced out of the door. "Sorry!" You yelled as you hopped onto your motorcycle and raced after the black car, hoping that you were right about this...
-
You followed Steven and an older man to some kind of building that you could only call a sanctuary. It even had a damn theater. But you didn't have time to look at all the details. Right now you had to keep yourself hidden. So, you sat down at an empty table in the back of the room, pulling your hood up to hide your face as much as possible.
"..His retribution comes too late. By the time his fist of vengeance arrives, people have already suffered. Ammit knows this too well. She tears evil up from the root, casting her judgment before any evil's done. That's why we must resurrect her." The man told Steven, his tone rather convincing.
"Right. But.. Isn't that a bit dodgy? Like, trusting the judgment of a weird crocodile lady?" Steven asked.
"You don't need to doubt her judgment. Ammit will light the path to good by eradicating the choice of evil," The man said, watching Steven nod with a small hum, before sipping another spoonful of the soup. "Which brings us to the scarab.." You knew this man had to be powerful, but with the way everyone in the room suddenly stood up and started to surround Steven, you knew something strange was going on.
"That scarab functions as a kind of compass, leading us to Ammit's tomb. She's out there, waiting, longing to be freed.."
"Hi.." Steven nervously mumbled to the growing crowd around him.
"While the cruel masses deserve to face her judgment. And in the wake of their screams? Evil eradicated." The man let out a breath, grinning at the mere thought of his plan coming to life. "Steven, to exist in that moment? Heaven on Earth." The man leaned back, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "So, the scarab?"
"Oh, I don't have it." Steven said shyly, he sounded so nervous and it was killing you.
"No?"
"Honestly, I don't have it."
"Well, maybe you know someone who does? Hm? Maybe Marc?"
Marc? Who the hell is Marc? You thought to yourself, wondering if you should intervene yet.
'Just give me the body, Steven.' Marc said from the reflection of the bread bowl, losing more of his patience by the minute.
"No, I don't." Steven snapped a little.
"May I speak with Marc?"
"Um... Ah.."
"Marc, what has Khonshu promised you? That this is your last mission? Then you'll be free? Trust me when I tell you, Khonshu is a liar. There's always one last thing.." The man seemed to stare straight into Steven's soul; it's like he expected him to be someone else. But that was impossible. Steven was Steven.
"Sorry." Steven seemed to interrupt the mans strange spaced out stare. "If Ammit judges people pre-evil, like, before the fact, then, isn't she judging an innocent person? I mean, a thought can't be evil, can it? I mean, I think about killing my boss all the time, but I wouldn't actually do it."
"Steven.."
"W-What about a child? Would she kill a child for something they might do in thirty years?" At this point, Steven was full on panicking and you couldn't just sit there anymore. You had to think of something.
"I'm glad you mentioned that.. Sometimes the cure is a little taste of the disease. The difference between medicine and poison sometimes is only the dosage. Consider a diseased limb. Amputation, horrific, grotesque, but it's necessary for the larger health." Everyone (except for you and Steven) nodded in agreement to the mans horrific analogy.
"But a child is not a diseased limb. Sorry, is that... Is that what... You're all into? Killing children and that? Maybe that's just me, but that's... I kind of draw a line there, at child murder.."
"Do you know what this is?" The man asked as he gestured to his staff, designed with two crocodile heads faced back to back as a handle.
"Yup. It's a cane, yeah." Steven said, almost making you laugh with his sarcasm.
"This was Ammit's gift to her first Avatar." The man picked up the staff and held it up for Steven to see, certain parts of the head starting to glow purple.
"Alright."
"It contains in it a tiny sliver of her power. I don't want to use it.. I don't.."
"Then don't. I can't help you-" Steven said, standing up and slowly backing away from the man. You stood up too, watching as everyone else in the room started to slowly back away from the staff as well.
"Yes, you can. I need to know, where is the scarab?" The man took a step closer, gripping the base of his staff. "Where is the scarb?" He asked again, and when Steven didn't reply, he repeated himself for a third time.
"No.."
"Where's the scarab?"
That was it. You couldn't let him scare Steven like this any longer. "I have it." You said, pulling the scarab out of your pocket and holding it up for everyone to see, pulling your hood back with your other hand.
"Y/n?" Steven asked, the panic on his features now replaced with confusion and concern.
"You couldn't possibly understand the value of what you're holding. Let me have that, I'll keep it safe." The man held out his hand to you, gesturing to the scarab.
THERE IS NO DEAL IN THIS, MARC. FIX THIS. FIX THIS! Khonshu hollered at Steven; even the god was starting to panic.
Steven ran to your side, grabbing your arm. "You really shouldn't be here! How the hell did you get here?"
"We don't have time for that. We have to go." You whispered, shoving the scarab into Steven's chest. "Keep this safe." You then grabbed his hand and pulled him towards a staircase at the back of the room.
"So be it." You heard the man say, followed by whispering in another language you didn't recognize. The ground shook when he slammed his staff into the ground, a purple cloud of dust swarming around the staff.
You dashed up the stairs, taking them two at a time, before crashing straight into a random guy, both of you surprised at the others presence. You panicked, punching the guy in his jaw out of instinct. He started to fight back, throwing a punch back at you. Luckily, you managed to duck just in time, grabbing the edges of his jacket and tossing him over the railing. You watched as he landed on top of a wooden roof, then roll onto the ground.
You glanced behind you, seeing that Steven was shocked by what just happened. "Come on!" You said, grabbing his arm and pulling him through a small doorway that lead to a hallway.
"That was awesome!" Steven said, following you into a room at the end of the hall.
"Thanks, now bolt the door!" You said as you both closed the door, Steven bolting it shut with a wooden plank.
You ran around the room, looking for an exit. Though, it seemed like Steven wasn't too focused on that. "Oh, my god.." He mumbled, looking at all of the ancient artifacts and egyptian tombs. "I'm gonna die in an evil magician's man cave."
You ran over to him and grabbed his shoulders. "No, hey, listen to me-" But both of your heads snapped over to the door when something big seemed to pounce on it.
"Bloody hell.." Steven's breathing started to pick up, his eyes glued to the door.
"Steven? What is that?" You started panicking, gripping his shoulders tighter.
'Give me the body.'
"Well, I could be wrong. But I'm pretty sure it's the jackal from the museum."
"The what?"
But he didn't have time to explain any further when the creature hit the door again, this time chipping a large crack down the middle.
'Steven, let me in.'
"Okay, listen, Steven, we have to think. How do we get out of here?" But Steven just stared at you, seemingly just as clueless as to what to do. "Oh, wait. Who's Marc? Maybe he can help?" You suggested, watching his entire demeanor change.
'She's right, Steven. Give me the body.'
"No." He said, almost defensively, glancing between you and the shiny tomb behind you.
"We'll put a pin in that-" But then the door burst open, though when you looked, nothing was there. "What the..?"
"JACKAL!" Steven covered his mouth with one hand, pointing at the doorway with the other.
"What? Steven, there's nothing there. What jackal?" You looked between Steven and the doorway, confusion written all over your face.
"Jackal... Jackal... Jackal.." Steven murmured, panic evident in his tone. He kept backing up, pointing at something you obviously couldn't see.
"Steven-" But then suddenly Steven flew out of the window. "STEVEN!' You screamed, running over to the window to see him. Though, when you looked down, nobody was there. "Steven?" You called out, waiting for a reply. When he didn't answer, you climbed out of the window and onto the roof, running over to climb down the fire escape ladder built into the side of the building.
You stepped onto the ground and started to walk down the alleyway, your thoughts all scrambled from the panic.
"ACK-"
When you turned around at the loud yelp, you saw a man in a white suit and mask crash through a wooden gate, landing on the bricks a few feet away from you. "Steven?"
He either didn't hear you or just didn't answer, because he reached up and grabbed the metal bumper of a car and gripped it, completely bending the metal and ripping it off with ease.
"Woah.." You mumbled, a rush of chills flooding throughout your body as your cheeks turned a bright pink. "Um- Y-You look different." You stammered, your eyes trailing along his body. You took in how the well fitted suit showed off and complimented everything it needed to.
Before Steven could respond, the invisible being pushed him forward, causing him to drop the large chunk of metal. It then pulled him up right, only to slam him into the front of a car.
"Steven!" You ran over to help him, but he held his hand out to stop you.
"Get away!"
"What?" But then he was lifted back into the air, his arm accidently pushing you over. You sat on the ground, helplessly watching as the being lifted Steven onto a car and started choking him.
"Steven!" Your hand reached out for him, a red blast following it. Suddenly, you could see it. The red glow of your magic holding it in the air was enough to show just how big the creature was. "What the hell.." You mumbled, staring at it for just a moment, before swiping your hand through the air, causing the jackal to fly across the alleyway and slam into the side of a building, making a noise similar to an injured dog.
You stood up and ran over to Steven, crouching down to his level while rubbing his back. "Are you okay?"
Steven coughed, his hand gently rubbing his neck. "How do you do that?" He mumbled, looking at you through the white glow of the mask.
"I-" But the jackal grabbed your ankle and lifted you into the air, slamming your body into the wall. "Fuck, Steven!" You called out, unable to turn your body enough to get a grip on the being.
"I've got you, love!" He called out as he slammed an old, rusty frame of a tire at the jackal. It fought him for a minute, but then dropped you and grabbed the piece of metal, hitting Steven with it.
Steven laid on the ground, trying to catch his breath.
'Give me control, Steven. You can't handle this.' Marc said, staring back at him from the reflection of a car's bumper.
Steven thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. "I think I can." He then jumped to his feet, starting to do a ridiculous prance around the jackal, his fists clutched to his chest. "Leave her alone! Yeah, I see you, you plug-ugly coyote. You're in the wrong ends, mate. You're in my yard now." Steven ripped off his jacket and threw it onto the wet, brick covered ground, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. "Yeah. Come on. That's right. Come on."
Though it was a serious situation, something about the way he taunted the creature caused butterflies to erupt in your belly. You watched as he and the jackal jumped around, back and forth like professional boxers.
"Ohh, lookie here. Lookie here." Steven continued to taunt, his fists clenched and ready. "Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee, my name's Steven with a V!" He yelled, before clocking the creature in the face, effectively knocking it out. "Haha, wow! Did you see that? Y/n, did you see that? That was amazi-" But the jackal jumped up and kicked Steven in his stomach, causing him to roll into the busy street.
"Is he having a seizure?" A stranger asked.
"Nah, he's just a fancy drunk." Another stranger replied.
The jackal slammed Steven onto the side of a bus three times, before he was able to turn around and grab it, throwing them both at the oncoming car.
"Steven?" You called out, trying to push your way through the growing crowd.
Steven groaned, slowly making his way back onto both of his feet.
'That was one hell of a punch back there. But look around. Someone's gonna get hurt if you don't let me help.' Marc said, both of them knowing he was right.
"Fine. Take control, but just for now.."
As you made your way to Steven, you watched his head fall back; it looked as though he was being electrocuted. "Steven?" You placed your hand on his arm, gently pulling it to turn him around.
And as he did, white strips of fabric snaked around his body, creating a whole new suit with a cape. You stared into the bright, glowing eyes, knowing something was different. "You're not Steven." You said, taking a step back.
"No, I'm not." The man said with an American accent instead of Steven's English one. He then ran and jumped on top of a car, then onto the side of a building, climbing onto the roof.
He must be leading the jackal away. You thought to yourself, running down the street to try and find him. It didn't take long, the sound of him angrily yelling followed by glass shattering was enough to lead you right to him.
When you could finally see him, he seemed to be talking to someone, but again, nothing was there.
"Where are we going?" He asked whomever he was talking to. He didn't seem too happy with the response; his shoulders slumped over and he sighed. "Cairo? Again? Fucks sake.." He cursed, his mask rising up to cover his face again, before a giant gust of wind hit you like a brick wall, the sound of crows screams echoing throughout the small space.
And when you looked up, he was gone. Why would he need to go to Cairo? Who was this Marc? Why couldn't you see what he saw? You didn't know everything, but you did know that you were going to follow him to Egypt.
-
After a thirteen hour flight, multiple calls to a bunch of hotels, and three taxi's later, you got a room three doors down from Steven. Or was it Marc now? You were honestly too tired to think about it.
You tossed your bag on your bed with a sigh, popping it open to dig around for your pajamas. After a long, hot shower, you climbed into the neat white bed, a yawn forcing it's way out of you. You reached over and turned off the lamp on the nightstand, curling up into a ball as you slowly drifted to sleep.
That was, until a rather loud knock sounded from your door.
"You've gotta be kidding me." You mumbled, angrily ripping the blankets off of your body before stomping across the room, yanking the door open. "What?" You snapped.
"You're following me." Marc said, his arms crossed against his chest.
You stared at him for a long time, your eyes practically bugging out of your skull. "Steven?" You whispered, tilting your head as you noticed how he slightly deflated at the name. "Or Marc? You don't have the accent, so I assume-"
"What are you doing here?" Marc interrupted, annoyance evident in his tone.
You shrugged. "Keeping Steven safe. Plus, I can help."
"No way." Marc pushed his way past you, entering your room before you could object. "Listen, I appreciate what you're doing, I really do, but I've got this. You're just gonna get in the way."
You shut the door then leaned against it, crossing your arms over your chest. "I think I can take care of myself."
"I didn't say you couldn't."
"It was implied." You snapped, now growing irritated yourself.
Marc shook his head, pressing his fingers against his temple. "Look, I set up a flight back home for you in ten hours. Just go home and Steven will be back in two weeks."
"No."
"No?" Marc repeated, surprised with your attitude.
You only shrugged in response, trying not to laugh at the way Marc kinda looked like the muppet Sam Eagle when he was mad.
"What? You think this is funny? I'm serious y/n!"
It must've been on your face then. "Look, Marc, I don't know how any of this works," You gestured to him, referring to the whole Steven-And-Marc situation. "But I know that Steven wouldn't want this."
Marc put his hands on his hips, quickly growing defensive. "How would you know? You don't even know him!"
"I saw how he looked when that guy asked to talk to you instead of him. He was scared. He wants to be in control and you make him feel powerless." You felt guilty when you saw how Marc's shoulders fell, his eyes focused on the floor.
"Yeah, well after this he won't have to worry about me ever again." He walked over and put his hand on the doorknob, not even looking at you. "Move."
You looked up at him and studied his face; it was nothing like Steven. Marc carried himself in a way that made himself look bigger, more standoffish, while Steven was the complete opposite.
Marc finally looked at you, his eyes staring into yours for a moment, before glancing down to your lips. You couldn't help but do the same, your eyes fixed on his chapped lips. You both stayed like that for a moment, the distance between your faces slowly closing by some invisible force.
"You should get some rest. You have a flight to catch in the morning." Of course he had to ruin the moment.
"Will you still be here when I wake up?"
Marc just stared at you, not answering your question.
You pulled yourself off of the door, shrugging your shoulders once again. "Sounds like I'm not going to sleep then."
"Fine by me." Marc said as he pulled the door open and walked out, practically slamming it behind him.
You pulled a chair over to the window and sat down, watching the parking lot to see if he would leave. You'd stay there all night if it meant keeping them safe. Even Marc.
-
The next morning, you woke up to a knock on the door, followed by a, "Room service?" You sat up and groaned, your hand flying to rub your neck. You had fallen asleep in a strange position on the chair last night and with the deep sleep you were in, you barely moved a muscle throughout the night.
After you politely declined the room service, you quickly got dressed and headed down the hall to talk to Marc, but when you reached his room, two maids were inside making the bed, talking about an affair between a Tina and the hotels janitor.
"Excuse me?" You said, ignoring the glares they looked at you with for interrupting their gossip session. "Sorry, but where's the man that stayed here last night?"
One of the maids sighed, rolling her eyes. "He just left not five minutes ago. You could probably catch him if you run."
"Shit- thank you!" You hollered, already racing down the hallway towards the elevator. You slammed your thumb against the G button on the elevator, impatiently tapping your foot as you counted down the floors. When you reached the ground-floor you quickly ran out, scanning the room for the familiar mop of dark brown curls.
You saw him right as he walked out of the door, sliding his sunglasses down from on top of his head to cover his eyes.
You slipped out of the exit on the other side of the building and followed him throughout a very crowded market. You kept your distance, even when he chased a group of mercenaries throughout the streets. There was gonna be a perfect moment for you to step in, you could feel it. So for now, you watched.
Marc had one of the mercenaries pinned to the wall, asking him were a man named Harrow was. He glanced at the mirror on the wall next to him, distracted by whatever he was seeing. The other mercenary took that opportunity to hit him over the head with a piece of wood, effectively knocking Marc to the ground.
He laid there for only a moment, but you watched his body tense and shake like it did in the street the other night. "Steven?" You whispered to yourself, hoping to finally see him.
But this was worse. This couldn't be Steven and you didn't think it could be Marc.
He jumped to his feet with a random surge of energy, running towards the men at full speed. The look in his eyes was purely primal, almost hungry. And though you only saw him for a second, he seemed to be smiling.
You quickly ran after them, surprisingly able to keep up. He chased them to the top of a cliff, punching one of the men with what could only be described as deadly force.
"Jesus, you're gonna kill him!" You yelled, right as he sank a knife into the other man's stomach.
"Huh?" He turned around and looked at you. "What are you doing here?" He questioned with a strange spanish accent.
"You just killed him! I- Who are you?" You asked, hesitantly taking a step closer to him.
"Nobody. Forget you ever saw me."
"Wait-" But before you could question him further, his eyes rolled back and his body tensed for a moment. And when he looked at you again, he had that damn muppet expression on his face.
"Y/n? What the hell ar-"
"Look out!" You pointed to the man sneaking up on him from behind, knife in hand.
Marc turned around, but he wasn't fast enough. The man drew the knife back, but before he could do any damage, you focused all of your attention on the knife, ripping it out of his hand and sending it flying towards you in a red cloud. You caught it by the handle, then immediately dropped it, not wanting anything to do with the murders.
"What the-" The man started, but Marc grabbed him by his scarf and dragged him to the edge of the cliff, dangling him over the edge. "Where's the tomb?"
"Marc, don't!"
"Jesus! You're just as bad as Steven!" Marc snapped, causing him to grip the mans scarf tighter.
"Praise Ammit." The guy said, before pulling a knife out of his pocket and cutting the scarf, falling to his death.
Marc stood there in shock, still gripping the remaining piece of the scarf.
You slowly walked over to him, gently placing your hand on his back. "Marc-"
"I told you to go home!" Marc yelled, turning around and getting in your face.
"Hold on, I just saved your life-"
"That would've never happened if you had just gone home!" Marc pointed his finger at you, his entire body shaking with rage. "Go home, y/n. Now." He then stalked off, heading back towards the busy street from before.
You sat on the edge of the cliff and sighed, burying your face in your hands. You tried your best to calm yourself; reassure yourself that it wasn't your fault, but not even five minutes after Marc left, the sunlight began to disappear. When you looked up, it seemed to be covered by a large, dark circle. The moon.
"What the..?" You mumbled, standing up while keeping your eyes on the dark circle in the sky. Though as quick as it was there, it was gone. And while you were still confused on what the hell was going on, you couldn't ignore the aching feeling that Steven -or Marc; or even that spanish man- were in danger. So you made your way back to your hotel room, doing the only thing you could.
Wait.
-
You were laying on your bed in a robe, still fresh from the shower. As you stared at the ceiling, you couldn't help but finally let all of your thoughts swarm around your mind.
Who was that? Are there more? Where's Steven? Is he okay? Was Marc really gonna kiss me? Did he want to as much as I did?
But your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your hotel room's phone ringing on the nightstand. You sighed, sitting up and grabbing the phone, holding it up to your ear. "Hello?" You mumbled, rubbing your forehead.
"Y/n? Is that you?" You'd know that british accent anywhere.
"Steven?" You gasped, standing up to start pacing. "Where are you? Can I see you?"
You heard Steven chuckle on the other line. "That's what I was calling for, actually. I need your help."
"Of course. Where are you?" You grabbed a pen and paper and wrote down the address Steven gave you. "Wait, why are you at a pyramid?"
"I'll tell you when you get here. Just please hurry. I don't know how much time I have before Marc tries to take over again."
"Okay, I'm on my way." You said as you yanked on a pair of jeans.
"I'll see you soon. Laters gators." And then Steven hung up, not even knowing how big you were smiling just at his silly catch phrase.
-
You showed up to the pyramid on your motorcycle, easily finding Steven's tent that was set up outside of what you assumed was the entrance. You propped your bike up on it's kickstand before heading over to the tent. But before you pulled the curtain back, you heard Steven talking to someone. So, you stood still, eavesdropping on his conversation.
"..don't be silly. I won't let anything happen to her."
'Steven, I'm serious. Trust me, you don't want her getting roped into this kinda stuff. Just give me the body. She's gonna be here soon.'
"Which is exactly why I'm not giving you the body. Bloody hell, I've barely seen her throughout this whole mess."
'Yes, I know. If you just give me the body I'll give it back in a week or two and you'll never hear from me again. Promise.'
"Yes, well, while that does sound tempting, I'm not gonna miss out on exploring an ancient pyramid with my girlfriend."
Girlfriend? You thought to yourself, your cheeks heating up. You didn't mind the label, it's just that you guys never had a chance to talk about it.
'Girlfriend? Since when did you have time to make things official?' Marc spat in a mocking tone.
Steven just shrugged. "Dunno, I've gotta talk to her about it first, but I just like her so much, Marc. I swear, I've never felt this way about anyone before. And- And I think she feels the same."
You smiled, knowing that he was right. You fixed your clothes, took a deep breath, then pushed the curtain aside. "Steven?"
Steven jumped, quickly turning around. "Y/n!" He quickly rushed over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Bloody hell, I've missed you so much! It's like, I was there, you just couldn't hear me. And don't you worry, Marc got quite the ear full this morning for the way he yelled at you."
Though you could hear Steven rambling, you just couldn't pay attention to what it was about. You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face against his shoulder. "Steven." You said, trying to get his attention.
"..and I was in a mirror? I think? I'm not quite sure how it works, actually."
"Steven."
"..I honestly can't help but wonder how long he's been in there. Like, is he the only one? Or what if I have a little french man in there as well?"
Or a spanish one, you thought. He obviously wasn't going to listen to you like this. You reached up and cupped his cheeks, pulling his face close to yours. "Steven."
Steven finally looked at you, a bit shocked. "Yes, love?"
"Shut up." You said, breathing out a laugh as you leaned up and pressed your lips to his, wrapping your arms around his neck once again.
Steven just stood there, his eyes wide, lips unmoving.
'Kiss her back!' Marc hissed.
Before you could pull away, thinking he was uncomfortable, Steven snaked his arms around your waist, holding you as close as he could, finally kissing you back.
When you both pulled away a few moments later to catch your breaths, you just stared at each other, soft pants escaping your smiling lips.
"Shall we?" Steven asked sheepishly, jerking his head towards the entrance of the pyramid.
You adored the bright pink shade of his cheeks in that moment, wanting to take a mental picture to keep forever. "Yeah." Was all you could manage, still light headed from your kiss.
You knew this was going to be a long journey; both this mission of Marc's and your relationship with Steven, but you were ready. For what? You didn't know exactly, but as long as you had Steven, you could do anything.
Tag list: @hot-mess-express1
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yesimwriting · 4 years ago
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Hello! Your Nikolai fic tranquility is so beautiful! Can you write more for Nikolai? Maybe the opposite with reader having a nightmare? Or whatever you want just please give me more! If you have a tagging list I'd love to be included btw :)
A/n hii!! first off,, thank you! i was a little nervous about writing him for the first time,, but i love him so much (even though i love a good villain/morally grey character in love i think nikolai would probably make the least toxic bf in the grishaverse lol)
you gave me a little too much freedom here lol bc i have so many ideas for him!! lowkey might need to give him a longer fic/series soon when i catch up with requests!! WOW THIS FIC IS SO LONG AND FOR WHAT
Summary: Reader is a handmaid who has grown up assisting Nikolai. Through the years, the two have developed a special relationship that most definitely breaks royal protocol--they’re best friends and rivals on a good day, and dangerously close to being something more the second either of them is remotely upset or extremely happy. Learning about the fact that Nikolai was almost engaged to Alina (a good friend of yours) and being reminded of the fact that as royalty Nikolai has many prospects (both serious women worthy of his title and women only suitable for trysts meant to relieve tension) has you both realizing something you should have years ago.
Word count: 31210
Warnings: disclaimer--may not be the most cannon thing ever,, but i wanted the ‘child of the help competes and falls in love with the child of royalty’ energy okay?? Lol
I could do a whole blurb series with this dynamic nikolai x reader,, like just stories of them growing up together and randomly realizing they might like each other romantically?? I probably shouldn’t rn but i ADORE this trope.
--
The perfection of the room is disappointing. Idle hands, idle thoughts--so I work to smooth out a perfect duvet. Still, the thoughts come--aggressive and unavoidable. It’s silly, maybe even sad, to feel possessive over something that’s never been yours, something that could never be yours, but the harder I fight off the feeling the stronger it grows. Jealousy is a weed growing quickly in my chest, vile roots planted firmly in my heart.
Normally my favorite part of the day would be waiting for Nikolai to return to his room in the palace after dinner and his evening duties. He’s always a bit softer in the evenings, during my last check-in of the day. I’m normally thrilled to be done organizing his room early because that means the second he arrives there will be no distraction. Most evenings, he’ll find me perched in the seat by his bed, reading. He’ll mock-scold me for daring to defy his orders and reading ahead from the book we both take turns reading aloud from each night. He then warns me that I better react exactly the way I did when I first read it or else. That threat is always followed by a gentle laugh.
Tonight I’m in no mood for our nightly banter or even our nightly reading. My mother had warned me of the dangers of getting too comfortable with the royal family. I should have heeded that warning when she first gave it to me, the morning she found Nikolai and I fast asleep on a couch in the library as children. The palace likes to bring up the children of the staff by training them to attend to the next generation of royals. It makes the staff more efficient, a lifetime of knowing what someone wants makes you better for them. It also creates some level of connection, making betrayal a little less likely. Nikolai and I might have taken it farther than most. But now I want a reminder of the way we’re supposed to be--maybe if I detach now the bleeding of my heart won’t kill me. That has to remain secret, because if I explain it to Nikolai something in me will break. The one line between us will be crossed.
This will be the sixth secret I’ve kept from Nikolai in my entire life.
--
The secrets:
I don’t know why I was picked for Nikolai. I wasn’t particularly skilled, but still, the day came when my mother was told that I now worked directly for the Lantsov boy. It’s an honor, a true one, but my mother had been a little nervous. To whom much is given, much is expected--and I detested Nikolai. Not for being a prince, but for being a prince who thought girls couldn’t race or fight.
The day my mother came looking for me because I never showed up for dinner and she found Nikolai and I attempting to fight in the way only a ten-year-old girl and eleven-year-old boy would, she had looked truly mortified. Nikolai had only laughed, either oblivious to my mother’s embarrassment or uncaring about it. He had then hugged me--an expression of care that had left me reeling. I saw him more as a rival than someone to tend to, but in that moment I saw him as a friend. Even more so when he told me he didn’t want me to go yet and that he was upset that so much of the day had been wasted by studies that kept him with boring people and away from me. And then he invited me to his lessons--my mother was quick to attempt to decline politely, but the desires of a prince at any age outweigh that of a mother.
After that, everyone kind of just stopped trying to remind us of our propriety. The tutor at first was concerned about my presence, but Nikolai remained stubborn. I wasn’t a big enough deal to cause an argument, so I began to attend lessons with him almost every day, only staying away when my mother needed aid with laundry or cleaning. His parents must have been somewhat aware of our friendship, but they must have been oblivious to our closeness because it was never mentioned.
My mother’s worry began to ease, she’d even started to take some pride when I’d come to our room proudly proclaiming that I scored two marks higher than Nikolai. She did, however, warn that it might be more tactful to let him score higher.
The comment was casual, just a suggestion, but it left me feeling wrong. It was the first time since we met that I had thought about our different statuses. I didn’t tell him--and that was the first secret I ever kept from him.
As we grew, we traded physical competition for academic rivalry, trying to best each other in both lessons and games of strategy like chess and cards. But with growing comes responsibility. Nikolai started to have obligations that were meant to be private. I couldn’t follow him at all times. But he’d always come back from locked door meetings grinning like he carried schoolyard gossip instead of government secrets. He shared everything with me, even when I playfully warned against it.
He’d always step closer when I teased that perhaps he shouldn’t tell me everything. And then he’d say, “If I can’t trust you, then I can’t trust anyone--and I don’t want to live in a world like that.” Often, he’d give my hand a light squeeze before moving on like he had not said anything intimate.
On a day in which Nikolai was in one of those meetings, I became a woman. When I first saw the blood, I had been horrified--but my mother was quick to explain that it was natural. She said that I was now a woman, a wonderful thing, really--but a thing that came with obligations. She told me that I could no longer have the impromptu ‘sleepovers’ with Nikolai unless he ordered it. I told her he’s never ordered me to do anything for him.
She didn’t ease, something in her had started to become nervous again. My mother had recently started to act the way she did when Nikolai and I first became friends. I didn’t want to fall asleep in Nikolai’s bed while I was bleeding, but I didn’t want to never have another sleepover with him again. Especially not when she refused to explain why being a woman changed so much.
I had decided to avoid Nikolai as much as possible until the sting of my mother’s new rule faded. Unfortunately, that night Nikolai was extra talkative--excited as he insisted I stay for a little longer. Soon, I found his familiar good naturedness melting away my nerves and before I knew it I was laughing in the middle of the night. When my eyelids started to feel heavy, I had moved from the chair, ready to head back to my room.
Nikolai had looked at me oddly before he asked why would I leave so late when it would be easier for me to just sleepover? It was an innocent question, he did not know about my change and I had wanted to keep it that way.
I tried playing coy, but Nikolai has always had a talent for getting around my better judgement. I don’t recall exactly how it happened, but I remember him standing in front of me. It was the first time I noticed how much had actually changed over the years--he was now taller than me for the first time in his life. His hair had started to grow a little longer, golden and soft-looking--and his face seemed much more angular. But he had not lost his boyish charm.
“Y/n?” My name fell softly from his lips, and that was the first time I had ever noted the fullness of them. I didn’t understand why I considered that something worth noting. “Did I do something to make you mad at me?”
Perhaps I had been a little curt--nerves and hormones had left me not feeling like myself. I didn’t tell him about the bleeding, I couldn’t. That became the second secret I kept from him--but I did tell him that my mother had told me I was a woman now, and that women can’t have sleepovers. Not with those of the opposite gender. I made no effort to hide my confusion because I expected him to be as perplexed as I was. But he was not confused--in fact, he had the audacity to laugh. My face flushed, but I did not know why.
“Why is that funny?” Maybe he thought I was still too much of a child to be considered a woman. I assumed it a fair assumption, I had not grown the way he had--my shoulders had not become sturdier and I had not become particularly broader. Still, I would rather melt into the floor than tell him about the reason my mother now considered me a woman. “My mother did say that, and I don’t know what being a ‘woman’ has to do with staying in your room at night.” Something strange had crossed over his features then, something much more brooding than I was used to.
I had blinked at him as unexplained nerves pooled in my stomach. Perhaps that look would have been enough to keep me silent if he had managed to not grin. That self-assured grin that had always challenged me. “Well since you know everything about my mother now, maybe you can tell me why she’s been acting strange. She’s starting to act the way she did when we first became friends.” I expected him to at least pretend to be worried. Perhaps his parents had spoken to her and had mentioned wanting our friendship to end. But his grin had only grown. Pride left me angry. “She did say that I could stay if you ordered it--but I’m glad you’ve never ordered me to do anything, so I can leave right now because you’re acting as odd as her. I don’t understand what you could find funny about our friendship ending.”
He had stopped me from storming out of his room by placing one hand on the wall between me and the door. “Y/n, don’t be cross--I’ll explain it all, I promise.” Angry pride made me want to storm away from him, but curiosity and something unknown and warm kept me in place. “Do you remember when we read the play about the rival families, how the two main characters had kissed?”
I remembered that part of the play especially well. The concept of kissing so casually, outside of marriage, had been jarring to me. “Yes.”
“Now that we’re older, your mother must be worried that we might do that.” He paused before leaning against the arm he placed on the wall to keep me from leaving a little more. “Kiss.”
The clarification was not needed--in that brief pause, I had allowed myself to imagine no distance between our lips. Something in me burned with embarrassment when I realized that some part of me found the thought appealing. The only thing I wanted in that moment was assurance that Nikolai would never know I felt that. That was my third secret, and the weight of it was heavy against my chest.
Still, though, all of my confusion had not yet left. “Is there much harm in a kiss?”
The question had left an odd smile on his lips. “There’s potential harm in what it could lead to for the woman, but not so much for the man.” He exhaled slowly as my face tensed. He could always read me too well because he was quick to add, “What it could lead to isn’t a bad thing, it’s meant to be pleasurable, but it’s serious.” I did not understand, but a part of me was starting to grow okay with that. Nikolai’s voice had started to become lower than ever, and his gaze remained tense. Perhaps if I accepted the confusion for now, things could go back to normal. If the conversation ended, I could stop thinking of his lips and his hands and what it would mean for them to touch me. “It’s considered a vice, like drinking or gambling.” The additional comment helped more than it should have. A vice--not scary and not painful, but not something to indulge in. That’s enough explanation for now. “If you want to know, I won’t deny you.”
I appreciated the offer tremendously. The vice that comes after kissing is clearly something that’s been intentionally kept from me. It’s something he was privy to that I was not, and he offered it to me like so much else. But if knowledge that my mother feared us kissing made me think of his lips, then I doubted I could handle knowing what comes after kissing.
“I’ll let you know when I want to know, but I appreciate the offer.” It felt like a fair response. His snarky grin came back immediately. Irritation rooted itself in my stomach. I hated not knowing more than him for once, but I still had one question I could not relinquish. “But what does that vice have to do with orders?”
At that, his smugness faltered. “It’s not unheard of, for princes and handmaids--for a prince to obligate a handmaid in order to fulfill his vice. Though many handmaids fill the vice of their own will for benefits.
The explanation left him like a confession. I didn’t understand his hesitance--it’s not like he’d ever make me do anything I didn’t want to do. Even when I worked, he was hesitant to ask me to go out of my way to bring him a glass of water. And I couldn’t imagine gaining anything from offering Nikolai something I didn’t really understand. I wasn’t naive to the fact that my life had more privileges than many palace servants. “Oh.”
His eyes hardened. “You know I’d never--”
“I know.” It was finally easy to smile again. “I never thought otherwise.” Something in him seemed to ease at that, his eyes went from hard to warm in less than a second.
I had no more questions for him and I was also no longer a flight risk, but Nikolai did not move. He did not step back to create a more appropriate distance and he did not drop his arm. His gaze, however, did move--dropping downwards, and slightly away from my eyes. I did the same, my eyes falling to his lips.
The silence between us began to make me feel like something in me was in danger of overflowing. “Then I guess my mother is once again worrying for no reason.” Strangely, I did not feel the need to feel embarrassed about staring at his lips. “Because I would never particularly want to kiss you, Nikolai Lantsov.”
The comment was meant to be teasing, a joke to clear away unknown tension. I should have known better than to challenge his pride because he instinctually moved his hand off the wall and beneath my chin. I did not flinch when he tilted my head upwards slightly with his fingers. “I could get you to want to kiss me if I wanted to.”
Three secrets in one night. I did not think I could bear a fourth one. “Hm…” The ground we treaded on felt unstable, but something in me trusted Nikolai to not let me falter. “I should--I should go before I give my mother anymore cause to worry.”
His fingers had brushed down my chin easily as he dropped his hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
And that he did. The days passed without mention of the last time he asked me to sleepover. It was as if nothing had changed except now I found myself noting things I most definitely did not want to note. These didn’t feel like individual secrets because it felt easy to group each admirational thought into one secret. Soon, that became my new normal--easy banter, easy touches of hands, and easy yet silent admirations of his beauty.
I never wandered too hard about what the vice that kissing can lead to entailed. I didn't particularly want to know, but knowing that I could ask Nikolai at any time brought a sense of security to me. But besides that, I never thought of that conversation until the day I was asked to look for Nikolai because he was late for dinner.
That in itself was odd, most of the time when Nikolai was late it was because he was with you. I checked his room, two other rooms he was known to frequent, and then finally the library. First, I noticed a handmaid two years older than me. I was finally at an age when one begins to compare their beauty to those around them, and I recognized the girl as gorgeous. She was better endowed than me, physically, and she always seemed fun. And then I noticed Nikolai, standing closer to her than I’ve ever seen him stand to anyone. His expression was serious as the girl giggled.
Nikolai’s expression shifted from tense to shocked when he saw me. “Y/n.”
It took me a moment longer than it should have to realize what I had interrupted. Guilt and jealousy were quick to twist in my stomach. “Dinner--your parents sent me to look for you.”
He was quick to walk around the girl, who was quick to glare at me. I attempted to disappear down the hall after mumbling a quick apology, but Nikolai was faster than me.
“Y/n,” he did not hesitate to grab my wrist.
It shouldn’t have irked me the way it did, after all, neither of us had ever really hesitated to touch each other. I had always reached for him when I wanted him, and he had done the same. But the thought of the same hands that touched the most beautiful girl I had ever seen on me left me bitter in a way I didn’t understand.
Still, I pushed through all of that. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything, your mother asked me to look for you because she assumed you’d be with me when you were late to dinner. I didn’t think that there’d be--”
“You didn’t interrupt anything.” The words came out flat as his eyes took on the same quality they did the night he explained my mother’s concern to me. “Valaria wishes there was something to interrupt, but there wasn’t.”
Oh. I refused to let the correction inflate me. “Would you like me to not come to your room tonight?”
The offer felt awkward to make. “No,” the answer came quickly, “In fact, go there now--I want to see you right after dinner. I’ve missed you today.” The instruction left my face feeling warm. “We could read an extra chapter of our book if you’d like.”
Despite myself, I grinned. “Yes.”
“Looking forward to it.”
True to his word, Nikolai was quick to return to his room. He had come back to me eagerly, going out of his way to squeeze my shoulder as he entered the room.
I opened the book to the chapter we had left off on, but before I could start reading, Nikolai stopped me. “Sit next to me?”
The question came softly. It had been some time since we sat next to each other on his bed. Still, I moved off of the chair and to his bed. Something in me longed for the familiar closeness of childhood. I allowed him to play with my fingers as I read.
“You know you could take one night off from me if you wanted to.” The admission left me softly, part of unsure if he was still paying attention to my words. “She was pretty, it wouldn’t have hurt my feelings if you told me you wanted me to not come tonight.”
Nikolai exhaled easily, squeezing my fingers once. “I said I wanted to see you and I meant it.”
It took all of my energy to push past the way his words made my stomach leap. “In general, if you ever--”
Nikolai cut me off by laying his head on my lap the way he used to. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” It was the first time in years that he spoke to me in a way that acknowledged his authority. “Keep reading please.”
And that was the last time we had ever mentioned other handmaids in that context. The fifth secret I ever kept from him was the way I worried that one day that would change.
--
The door creaks open while I’m in the middle of fluffing an already pristine pillow. Nikolai steps into the room, but I continue to work.
“Darling,” he breathes too easily, “Today has been painful.” I straighten, looking at him as casually as I can manage. “And now I have to deal with you being mad at me.”
Damn him and his ability to read me with one look. “I’m not mad.”
“You know you can’t lie to me,” he sighs, stepping forward, “We’ve known each other too long for that.”
I press my lips together, irrational anger pushing itself into me at an odd angle. “We’ve also known each other too long to keep secrets.”
His eyebrows draw together, a look so quizzical I’m reminded of our schooling days. “What secrets have I kept from you?”
Mentioning that had been a mistake. I exhale as flatly as possible. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” My dismissal only has Nikolai’s expression hardening. I drop my gaze. “Unless you need something, I’m retiring my services for the evening.”
I take a reluctant step towards the door, eyes attached to the floor. “Y/n,” his voice is gentle. “What is it?”
“It’s nothing, I’m just tired.” Please let that be at least somewhat believable. “I’m sure I’ll feel more like myself in the morning.” I take another step, a little more assured. Nikolai’s hand is on my shoulder before I can escape. “Nikolai--”
“Y/n,” his voice is that of velvet, “I can’t have you be mad at me. Not now.”
Sighing, I meet his gaze. The tiredness I see behind his eyes is almost enough to chase away my nerve. What I’d give to be able to melt into our familiar routine. “Then you should have told me you were almost engaged to a literal Saint--the same literal Saint who’s one of my closest friends.”
Nikolai’s expression shifts as his hand drops from my shoulder slowly, fingers brushing down my arm before he finally intertwines our fingers. I bite my tongue to avoid squeezing his hand, but I don’t move to separate us either. He studies me silently, eyebrows drawn together. The longer he stares, the more whatever turmoil he’s experiencing seems to dissipate. After a minute of silence, I can read his expression perfectly. His lips are pressed together in that coy way--the way he only looks when he’s suppressing a smile.
I loathe him for it. “Nikolai Lantsov, don’t you dare laugh--not after what you did. Do you have any idea what it felt like to have Alina casually mention the fact that you almost married her casually? Like that was common knowledge to everyone but me?”
My words break away the last of his self control. He grins, flashing his annoyingly perfect teeth. “Do you have any idea what it feels like for me to want nothing more than to see you and then you let me believe something may actually be wrong when the only issue is your jealousy?”
The amusement in his tone is like poison to me. I find the strength to jerk my hand away from him. “I am not jealous.” He laughs; I am further enraged. “I am not.” The genuineness of my anger must finally register on some level, because he tries to suppress his smile. “I have every right to be mad at my best friend for not telling me that he was almost married.”
“We didn’t exactly come close,” he manages, expression still much too light for my taste. “I’m glad for Alina’s sake, I’m not sure being a Saint would be enough to protect her.”
He is infuriating. “I’m not sure anything you have will be enough to protect you.”
Something in his gaze shifts, softening the tilt of his mouth. “I don’t doubt that.”
I don’t know what I expected from him--but not this. I thought he’d be at least somewhat apologetic. “You should have told me.”
“I would have if I felt it was significant.”
“I’m your best friend--your marriage is significant to me. And even though it’s not like you’re engaged to her right now, you should have told me. You know I talk to Alina all the time.”
He sighs once, a hint of apology threatening to ghost over his eyes. “If I knew not knowing would have upset you so much I would have told you. I was--I was just so excited to be around you again I didn’t see much relevance in anything that didn’t involve you.”
The intensity that Nikolai regards me with is enough to wither all of my fury. But without my anger, I am left spiraling in emotion that I’ve been pushing against for years. My mother’s warning about relationships with those above us rings in my ears--sharp and headache inducing. I am still when he reaches for my hand again, but I do no allow myself to return the gentle squeeze of his fingers.
“I’m not sure much outside of you has significance.” He’s giving me a look I am familiar with. A look he often uses to chase away my anger.
Without my anger, I have nothing to keep me from melting into him, indulging in his presence fully. It’s so easy with him and I blinded myself to the danger of that. He may not be marrying Alina, but one day he will marry someone. A person worthy of his status--and what would I be left doing? Washing their laundry? Tearing up when I dusted the library and came across a book we had read together? Enough damage has already been done--I need to cut myself with this blade now in hopes of making sure I can one day recover.
He will get married one day, and nothing will be the same. And that’s a good thing--he deserves the love of a princess or queen. I want his happiness, even if it’s not with me. But some vindictive part of me hopes that some part of him will miss me. That some part of him will be dulled without me.
I’m a fool--he will remember me as the handmaid from his youth. The girl who made him laugh once or twice before he grew up. I force my hand out of his grasp. “You can’t win me over with words every time.” I need to get out of here before he says something that makes me lose all resolve. “Tomorrow morning I’ll be here to prepare you for breakfast.”
“Y/n.”
I step forward, refusing to look at him. “Goodnight.”
He sighs, his hand quick to grab my arm. Before I can question him I feel myself pulled back. I expect him to pull me just close enough so that I have to meet his gaze. He continues, pulling me sharply before placing a quick hand on my shoulder, forcing me down. My back hits his bed.
I sit up as soon as the reality of what just happened seeps into my mind. “Nikolai, what in the Saints--”
“If you’re going to act like a child, I’m going to treat you like one.”
I scoff, thoughts of escaping him put on hold by the principle of pride. Fine. I’ll beat him one last time, and then I’ll let us separate. I shove him. He laughs--of course this is funny to him. He got to keep fighting past the age of about eleven. His laughter adds to my anger, I move to shove him again, but he catches my wrist easily. I struggle against his hold, shoving him a third time with my still free hand. He pushes me slightly. That’s all it takes to unleash familiar habits.
Our small fight is hardly fair. He has all the advantage--more training, and he’s standing above me. When I finally make a move that might give me some success, Nikolai leans forward. He practically tackles me, his weight forcing me flat against the bed.
I move an arm, ready to push him off of me. Nikolai snags my wrists, holding them above my head. “This means I win.” I roll my eyes, anger returning.
“Let me go.”
He sighs tiredly, but the smugness radiating off of him is suffocating. “Admit that you were jealous.”
There are a lot of things I am willing to do for him--but never that. I cannot give him the one separation I still have. “I wasn’t.”
“Then why are you mad?”
I press my lips together. “I told you--”
“Do you really think you could lie to me?”
“You don’t know me that well.”
Nikolai moves his freehand, touching my chin as a way to ask me to look at him. I meet his gaze hesitantly. “Yes, I do, and that’s never bothered you before but it does now.”
Maybe this is a conversation better had bluntly. “It bothers me now because you’re too old to hold onto the daughter of a palace handmaid and I’m too old to pretend that our different statuses don’t matter.”
“Y/n,” he breathes, “Nothing’s changed. Status didn’t matter to me when we were children, and it doesn’t matter to me now.”
“You can afford to say things like that.”
“What good is my title if it means I can’t,” he pauses, eyes hesitant, “If I can’t keep things the same between us?”
I smile, the sadness of the look weighs on me and I can’t even see it. “Nikolai, you always knew things would change.”
“No, I--”
“You can’t tell me you think your future wife would like you having such a close relationship with a handmaid.” I press my lips together. “One day you’ll fall in love and get married and you’ll want me to leave your bedchamber as soon as dinner is over because you’ll be eager to spend time with your wife.” His gaze hardens. “And that’s not a bad thing. It’s actually a really good thi--”
The last syllable of my sentence dies in my throat. Nikolai, who must be possessed by something, leans down and presses his lips against mine. I beg myself to resist, but his gentleness is everything I’ve ever wanted. He releases my hands in favor of holding my face. That’s all it takes--my hands move without my permission, into his hair--pulling him closer to me. What am I doing? I’m insane. Placing my hands on his chest cautiously, I push just slightly. He’s quick to obey, pulling away while allowing his teeth to brush against my bottom lip.
I gape at him--taking in his now slightly swollen lips. “Nikolai.” He can’t do this to me. We’re friends. Despite the fact that I’ve loved him more than I should--we’re friends. “You’re being extremely unfair.”
He draws his eyebrows together, sitting up quickly and moving off of me. “I’m being unfair? I have spent my entire life loving y--”
I sit up, furious in a new way. “You have not!” This is the dumbest I have ever been. I move to stand, still feeling the softness of his lips against mine.
“Your tooth fell out.” The sharpness of his words forces me to still.
“What?”
I can’t bring myself to turn and look at him, but I’ve always been able to feel any heaviness he bears. The weight of it leaves little room for air in my lungs. “You were ten. I told you ‘girls couldn’t fight’ so you punched me in the face. That was the first time we ever fought--I didn’t mean to hit you in the face, but you moved. You moved and I hit you in the mouth and your last baby tooth fell out. I expected you to cry or get angry, but you just blinked at me and laughed. You were happy to lose your last baby tooth because it meant you were grown up. And then you smiled and asked me if you looked older. If anything, the gap in your smile made you look younger but I told you that you looked like a grown-up because I wanted you to keep smiling. Because your smile made me feel like I won something.” I turn on my heels, but I cannot meet his gaze. “That was the moment I fell in love with you--so don’t tell me I haven’t spent my entire life loving you.”
The weight of his words is harder to survive against than the heaviness of his feelings. “Nikolai, you know we can’t ever be together--”
“Why not?”
“Don’t act like you don’t know,” I manage, voice low, “You almost married the Sun Summoner--”
“That was political--”
“Exactly, your marriage is meant to be political, and if it happens to be out of love--which is what I hope you get, because it is what you deserve--it will be to someone of status.”
Nikolai stands, the movement is that of a king, not the boy I know. “I do not want status or to love someone else--I want you.”
“I can’t take that from you--”
“You can’t take anything from me because I’ve already given it all to you.”
I press my lips together, heart tearing for him. “I love you too much to ruin you.”
My words seem to snap something in him because his eyes darken, the way he watches me adjusting accordingly. “You can’t ruin something that’s always been yours.”
I let myself smile. At him. At his words. At the foolish hope the child in me has clung to after all of these years. I reach for him thoughtlessly, because I have the right to. Because I’ve always had the right to. He’s quick to respond, kissing me with much more security than before.
This time, he pulls away of his own regard. “You still haven’t admitted that you were jealous.”
His teasing smugness isn’t as sour to me anymore. “I wasn’t.”
Nikolai pulls me towards him easily, lips threatening to brush against me, warm breath against my face. “Are you sure, darling? You were awfully quick to claim what’s yours.”
I roll my eyes, grinning so widely I’m surprised my face doesn’t yet hurt. “You’re the one that fell for a ten-year-old girl with a bloody mouth.”
When he smiles back at me, he places a hand on my hip, pulling me forward slightly. “That I did.” He pulls me forward slightly. "Does this mean you can sleep in here again?"
"If anything, this is more reason for me to sleep in another room." He rolls his eyes, pulling me even closer. "But I won't tell if you don't."
Nikolai leans forward, pressing his lips to my forehead. "Deal."
tags: @deardiarystuff @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy  @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33
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smutsonian · 4 years ago
Text
the mobster’s little girl
pairing: mob!steve rogers x reader
summary: what happens when the big bad mobster gets blackmailed by your father to marry you? (kind of fluffy kind of not. kinda dark kinda not.)
warnings: smut, violence, death, obsessive behavior kind of, poorly written smut (for real i skipped some), innocent reader (kind of?), lil bit of angst, drowning, accidents in the kitchen, reader getting burned, not proofread, a lot of mistakes for sure (It’s a long fic and im too lazy to find the mistakes), loss of virginity skskks, oral deed (f & m), fingering skksks, kind of a handie, please let me know if i skipped some, please read at your own risk, rumlow is a warning periodt, this has crack vibes i swear idk what i was typing at some point, ddlg? (is this ddlg? jesus fuck idek anymore), dub-con but like not really?, the POV gets fucked up towards the end so goodluck with understanding this piece of sheeet
word count: 11k (what da actual fuck? this is loooong)
a/n: df am i being awkward while writing them warnings for? Holy shit that’s a long list of warnings
big thanks to @buckys-forgotten-plum​ for helping me edit <3 luv u mwah
this is a combined request of a mob!steve x innocent!reader + steve teaching reader to suck his ding-a-ding-dong
this has a sucky ending. i hate the fucking ending. 
also, i don’t got no clue on how to do spacing on tumblr so im terribly sorry for that.
masterlist
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Maybe it’s because they were terrified. Maybe it’s because they know what’s out there and what evil lurks in every corner of the city. Whatever the reason is, her parents hid her from the outside world. Never was she able to step another foot out of the gates of her home. No matter how huge the mansion her parents keep her in, it still feels small and lonely. Instead of the friends that she should’ve made in kindergarten, she became friends with her parents’ employees. Instead of the high school friends that she was supposed to have, she has the few cleaners in the house. She didn’t feel like they work for her because they’ve become her friends that keep her sane for being in one place for her whole life. Being able to go somewhere that’s not the garden, the gazebo, or even the lake that became her favorite place has always been in her mind but never her heart never really demanded to go out. She gets curious at times but it’s not enough to make her go against her parents’ number one rule.
 “Never let yourself be known and never talk to anyone outside this house. If possible, keep yourself away from the entrance gates.”
Being the obedient daughter you are, you followed that rule without question. You became the daughter that your parents wanted you to be. You learned everything from your tutor. The basics of economics but mostly proper etiquette. You didn’t know why you had to learn those but you did what your parents wanted you to do without question. You always do…
 That’s why when your parents told you that you were to marry, you agreed with a little bit of hesitance. “It’s for the best, princess.” Is the only thing that your father said while your mom looked at you with a small smile. You thought that it was going to be like the ones in the movies. You imagined a magical wedding but you didn’t even have one. You were told to sign some papers and just like that, you’re married to some man you don’t even know. A man that you didn’t see until a few days after the signing of papers.
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  Steve never felt so disrespected in his entire life. He’s so used to being the powerful man of the city, the country even, that never did he expect some feeble man to come barreling into his business. The Y/L/Ns… He knew of them but he knew little about them. The family is so secretive but are known to be powerful. Nobody knows how they do it but now he has been graced to learn how.
Blackmail… Along with bribery. How fucking pathetic.
He didn’t know how the man managed to acquire his plans for a rival gang but somehow, the fucker did. The rival gang that he was trying to take down for so long and managed to make a plan of action until this fucker messed everything up. The bastard wanted to marry his daughter off to him for a powerful alliance. Saying something about how both of their names would benefit from the marriage. The bastard also promised a fat amount of money that he’ll receive once he marries his daughter. The bastard knew that money has always been a problem for him by the smug look on his face. 
“It’s simple. You provide us security, we give you money. We seal the deal once you sign the papers to be my daughter’s husband.” The old fucker says with such pride in his voice. Steve gritted his teeth before making a move to toss the man out but the fucker clicks his tongue at him. “Ahh, we also wouldn’t want Rumlow to know about your plans on attacking his turf a fortnight from now, do we?” The old fuck stares at him as he waits for his answer.
 Having no other choice, Steve says yes with flared nostrils. He glares at the way the man smiles giddily while walking towards the door. Before the old man could leave, he turned back towards Steve with a serious look before pointing a finger at him. “One more thing… My daughter will be your wife but you are not to touch her. You live at the mansion with her but you ain’t allowed to touch her. Do get out of her way as much as you can. You get all the money you want by following my orders. That easy. Nice dealing with you.” The man was out the door in an instant as Steve glared at the closed door before picking up a wine glass from his desk and throwing it against the door.
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   “It’s a bit weird, mother.” Is your reply when your mother came to visit you in your room and asked you about how you’re feeling given your situation. She continues to brush your hair with her fingers as she hums in response.
 “It’s not like the ones in movies, that’s for sure.” You joke, earning a chuckle from your mother.
“My situation… It’s not really normal, correct?” You pull away from your mother’s hands and turn to look at her. She lets out a sigh before turning you back around and resuming to play with your hair. “No…” She says. “We might have been a bit strict with you but we only did it for your safety. The world out there… It’s not safe.” She continues. Once again, you pull away from your mother to fully give your attention to her. “But you and father are always out there. You put yourselves in danger on the daily so why can’t I?” You look at your mother who was looking at you with an unamused expression. You let out a sigh before sighing. “I know... I know. It sounds a bit silly to ask myself to be put in danger… But what about marrying me off to some stranger! You told me that father is bringing him here after he signed the papers. He’s to live here with all of us. Mother, we don’t even know him. Why would you let a stranger into our home?” You reason out, making exaggerated hand gestures to back yourself up. When your mother makes no effort to respond to you, you retort with a scoff and an eye roll. 
“You’re so hell-bent on keeping me inside this place, claiming that it’s to protect me that you failed to realize that you’re putting all of us in danger by letting an unknown man live with us. Seems kind of idiotic to me.” 
 *SLAP*
 You look at your mother with wide eyes as you hold your left cheek as it is stinging in pain. “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. That was disrespectful of me. I’m sorry.” You scrambled to get away from your mother, ignoring her calls as you left your room to run down the long hallway and down the flight of circular stairs. You went out of the mansion and started running down a pathway towards the lake. You were so upset and focused on getting to your destination that you didn’t see a strange man coming out of a black SUV just as you walked out of the mansion.
 You ran down the wooden dock, frowning at what you had said to your mother. You couldn’t believe how you acted just now. First, you disrespect your mother. Now, you hide yourself away like a child that got reproved for the first time. You clicked your tongue in annoyance, an action that you got from your father, as you paced around the wooden dock. “Of course, they were just trying to protect you, you stupid idiot.” You hit your forehead with your palms over and over before tilting your head backward to stare at the sky, not caring at how your eyes hurt at the blinding sun. 
 You closed your eyes after a few seconds, sighing out as you figured that you should probably go back. Your so-called husband was supposed to arrive today. You start to walk back when your foot slipped and suddenly, water enveloped your body. 
 You fell into the lake.
 You would think that being locked up in a big mansion would give you a lot of time to learn how to swim but with your luck, no one ever thought you how so now you couldn’t do anything but drown.
 Your arms flopped around you as you kicked your legs all over the place just to get some air down your lungs but you only found yourself sinking further down. You couldn’t even scream for help because you know that if you did, you would only be swallowing a whole lot of water. 
 Before you could lose your breath entirely, something grasped your flailing hand. You would’ve screamed if you weren’t pulled out of the water. Turned out, it was a hand. Not some kind of creature from the fantasy movies you’ve watched.
 You were sitting on the wooden dock, gasping for air when the sound of an annoyed huff caught your attention. You tilt your head up to see a man looking down at you with an annoyed expression. Your brain started clicking and then it hit you. He must be your husband.
 “You’re here early.” You whisper, looking down. You weren’t sure how to act around him. Around your husband. You would base it on the movies you’ve watched but so far, those movies were nothing like your life. You were sure that if you tried to act like one of the characters there, you would look like a complete buffoon. 
 “So glad to know that I’m married to a dumbass.” He cuts your thoughts off with a sneer. 
 “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall and drown like that.” You remember the lessons you had. About not engaging in someone else’s hostility. You looked down in embarrassment. You’ve never been called something vile like that so you must’ve made him really upset. He scoffs before shaking his head and leaving you on the wooden floor as he walks away.
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After that encounter with your so-called husband, you never really saw him again, even though the two of you were living in the same house. It was a few weeks after the drowning incident and you made sure to not tell anyone about it and you only hoped that Steve (you had to learn his name from your mother) didn’t tell anyone about it either. You and your mother are in good terms again and she’s currently in your room again, telling you how she and your father are to spend a few months in Prague to deal with a few business hiccups. You didn’t bother to ask if you could come with but you did bother to complain about them leaving. “You’re leaving me alone with a stranger under the same roof as me?” You exaggeratedly widened your eyes at your mother. “Oh, stop it. I’ve gotten to know Steve myself. I’m sure you’ll be safe with him. He seems like a nice guy. Although, I think your father gets a little bit on his nerves.” Your mother giggles to herself and you look at her with an amused grin. “You’re closer to my husband than I am with him.” You joked which earned a sympathetic look from your mother.
 “Talk to him. He’s your husband after all.” She caresses your face. You hold her wrist as you push your cheeks towards her hold. “I’m pretty sure he hates me, mother. I have a feeling that he’s scrupulously avoiding me.” 
 “How about you bake him something, hmm? You’re wonderful at baking!” Your mother grins at your excited reaction to the mention of baking.
 “I do love to bake…” You hummed in thought before giving your mother a faux pointed look. “Alright, I will bake but only because I love to bake. So if he doesn’t want to socialize with me, then so be it. I wouldn’t care.” You huff proudly as your mother looked at you with a grin and a hint of playfulness in her eyes.
 “What is it?” You ask her.
 “Why do I get the feeling that you want to impress Steve?” She chuckles at your stunned expression.
 “You have completely lost your mind, mother. Haven’t you got a plane to catch? Go on. Say hello to Prague for me!” You push her out of your room, her laughing at your antics before placing a kiss on your forehead and leaving you to yourself.
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  “Ooof!” You hissed as your finger touched the hot tray when you were pulling it out of the oven. You were making the third batch of cookies and somehow, you managed to burn your finger now. You quickly pulled the mittens off before putting the hot finger into your lips, as if sucking the pain away is possible. 
 You heard footsteps coming over and when you turned your head, you saw Steve looking at you with something you couldn’t comprehend. “H-hey.” You pulled your finger out of your mouth before hiding it behind your back like a kid. You tiptoed over the counter to reach the plate of cookies before walking over to him. “I made cookies. Would you… like to try some?” You moved the plate closer to his face but he only scowled at you before taking your right wrist and surveying your hand. He found the finger you were sucking on earlier and muttered something under his breath. You thought you heard him say ‘dumbass’ again like the last time.
 “Put cream on it.” He grumbled before leaving the kitchen. You glared at his back until he turned back around, making you wipe the glare out of your face before smiling bitterly at him. He walked towards you with a dark look until he was inches away from you. The position you two are currently in made you realize how tall he is. How he’s towering over you and how his biceps are poking out of his shirt. His crystal blue eyes are staring deep into your soul and you were almost hypnotized by it. You gulped in nervousness. You remember all the things you told your mother about this certain stranger that could possibly be a danger to you until he smirked and took the plate of cookies from the table before walking out once more, leaving you gaping at the door in confusion as your heart was beating faster than normal. From fear or something else, you do not know.
 ----
 Steve was deep in thought as he chewed on the cookies she made. It was really delicious and he hated that he liked it. He did his best to avoid the girl. He’s trying his best to avoid the girl. He did his best to hate the girl so things would be easier for him. He’s trying his best to hate the girl. He didn’t have time to babysit her. Her father is not someone he wanted to have ties with but he is. Steve didn’t want anything that has to do with that man and that includes her.
 But why is it so hard for him to keep her out of his mind?
 The first time he saw her, she had that cute little frown on her face but he found his heart skipping a beat at the sadness in her eyes. He knew he would regret following her but then he didn’t. He saw her as she fell down the dock and he didn’t know why he felt like his world stopped when he saw her gasping for air but it did. It took him his best efforts not to just dive into the lake to save her. Instead, he took her flailing hands and easily pulled her out of the waters. He wanted to keep her warm when he saw her shivering on the wooden floor but he suddenly remembered the deal. His worry was quickly converted into anger and annoyance so he managed to leave her alone, something heavy in his chest as he walked away from her.
 He hated the way she made him feel so he avoided her like a plague. Their home was big and avoiding her was really easy. It was stopping himself from going near her is the hard part. Her mother is the total opposite of her father. Her mother is a nice woman and living with the Y/L/Ns didn’t feel like a job other than her horrid father. Steve got to learn more about her through her mother. She talked about her so dearly. Steve felt his heart fall at the mention of her not leaving the mansion. It sounded like she was an animal caged in better surroundings. Steve realized why she acted so differently when he’s watching her. She seemed so… innocent. 
 Then he caught her baking cookies. It took him his best not to run towards her when he heard her hiss in pain. He watched as she tried to hide her injury from him. He didn’t know if he found it cute or annoying because she shouldn’t hide injuries from him. From anyone. If she was injured, she should get it to check as soon as possible. Then she offered him cookies. Steve swore that his heart leaped in adoration but he took the offered plate in front of him as a chance to check on her hand. He observed her fingers, internally flinching as he saw the burnt area on her index finger. “Such a clumsy little girl…” He muttered under his breath. Steve caught himself though. Why was he so worried about her? He quickly composed himself and dropped her hand. Before turning to leave. He heard her huff and he couldn’t help but to chuckle at that. He turned around to see her frowning at him only to have her eyes widened in surprise. She gave him a stubborn smile as he walked over to her, teasing her and testing her to see where her cuteness could go. Where her STUBBORNNESS could go. Did he really just say cute? 
 When he thought she had had enough, he smirked and took the plate of cookies before leaving.
 The plate of cookies that he’s currently munching on. 
 The more Steve thinks about it, the more he’s realizing that he couldn’t keep her out of his mind. It was impossible.
 The more he sees her, the more he wants to be with her. The more he sees her, the more he wants to protect her because it seems like she has a way of putting herself in danger.
 So innocent.
 So pure.
 He wanted her and he didn’t know if he could control himself anymore.
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  A week has passed and things with your husband seemed to have gotten better, if one is optimistically speaking. 
 He no longer avoided you so that’s better than before. He doesn’t acknowledge you much though. He only speaks to you to correct your every move. Called you out when you were walking barefoot around the mansion, mocked you when you walked around the docks, and even demanded you to leave the kitchens alone because according to him, you don’t know how to properly use it.
 He only ever opened his mouth to speak his mind of his distaste towards you and you were starting to miss the times when he completely avoided you.
 But you ignored the insults and kept your head high up. You aren’t going to sulk. Especially not when someone’s clearly made it his goal to make you feel just that.
 That’s why you’re currently making pasta. Ignoring his demand and continuing on having adventures in the kitchen. You just finished making the sauce so now you just have to cook the pasta. You took a pot that was way bigger than your head and proceeded to fill it with water from the sink.
 You struggled to carry it over to the stove, letting out a relieved sigh once you managed to set it down. The problem though, the bottom of the pot somehow got stuck on the burner plate. You clicked your tongue in annoyance before grunting and attempting to pull on the heavy pot. It remained stuck so you exerted more effort, succeeding but managing to tilt the pot towards yourself. You let out a yelp as the cold water inside the pot spills all over you. 
 “Y/N!”
 You felt his hands before you heard his voice.
 ——
 Steve heard clanking noises from the kitchen and he just had to roll his eyes at the thought of her prancing around the kitchen. Didn’t he tell her to leave the kitchen alone? He’s just trying to stray her from the harm she could put herself in. Not that he would ever admit that out loud.
 He walked into the kitchen, just in time to see water spill over her from the boiling pot. His blood went cold as he felt his heart stopping. “Y/N!” He rushed over her knelt body, covered in water. He cautiously touched her face, being careful not to hurt her possibly burnt skin. Why can’t she just listen to him? He told her not to work in the kitchen for a reason. 
 As he touched her seemingly cold cheeks, he watched as she looked up at him with an innocent confused look. “Steve?” Her voice was so meek yet it made his ear start to ring as his heart started to beat back to life. She must’ve seen his frantic expression because her eyes widened in realization before she’s shaking her head and pointing at the fallen pot. “I haven’t boiled the water yet! See? I’m fine. I didn’t burn myself.” She had the audacity to smile cheekily at him and he didn’t know if he should be leaping in joy with her or reprimanding her for being so careless.
 Steve clicked his tongue at her, something that he must’ve picked up from her, before leaving the kitchen with a huff. Something that he’s been doing a lot whenever he’s with her.
 ——
 After he left, you took a seat on one of the chairs, recalling what just happened a few moments ago. He thought you were stupid enough to pour boiling water all over yourself. Does he really think you’re that stupid? He looked so worried though. You smiled at the thought of him possibly caring about you. 
 You let out a short squeak when you felt something falling at the top of your head. A towel. Steve wrapped it around you until your head was the only part exposed. “Whatcha grinning on about, little girl?” His voice was stern but there was a teasing tone in it. You looked up at him as he watched you. You shook your head before furrowing your eyebrows when he bought the pot towards the sink, filling it with water.
 “What are you doing?” Your voice is small as you asked him.
 “Can’t trust you with this. You might boil yourself the next time you even try.” He clicked his tongue before effortlessly bringing the pot to the stove and lighting it up. After that he walked back towards you and sat at the chair beside you, turning himself to stare back at you.
 “I thought I made it clear when I told you not to work in the kitchens?” He mockingly tilted his head before raising one eyebrow at you. You stared back at him, not knowing what to say so you just tilted your head down like a chided kid. 
 “Uh uh uh…” You felt his long fingers under your chin as he tilted your head back to face him. “What’s the matter? Did you manage to burn your tongue as well? Hmm?” You didn’t know why but the way he was talking to you is making you feel something unfamiliar in your stomach.
 When you didn’t answer, he put the hand that was on your chin to the side of your mouth, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. Your eyes fluttered when he managed to poke his thumb into your mouth and pressed it down your tongue gently.
 “Seems pretty alright for me…” He mumbles. You watched as his eyes widened in surprise when you sucked on his thumb absentmindedly. You realized what you were doing and stopped immediately. “No. No, don’t stop. Do it again.” He watched you with bright eyes as you hesitantly sucked on his thumb once more, feeling your body warming up at the current situation. 
 He slowly pulls his thumb out before rubbing it around your lips and leaning his face closer to yours. You could feel your heart panicking in fright or in excitement, you weren’t sure. You saw him close his eyes before he let out a sigh. He pulls away from you then ruffles the towel on your head. “Why don’t you go ahead and put dry clothes on? I think the pasta’s ready.” He grins before walking back toward the stove to start preparing the meal.
 You stumbled to your feet, mindlessly walking towards your room with a clouded mind.
 What was that all about?
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  All Steve could ever think about was her. Her beautiful lips. Her eyes that glisten with innocence. Her nose twitches whenever she’s focused on something. The way she fits in his hold. The way she reacts under his touch. 
 He couldn’t forget about the way she sucked on his thumb unknowingly and the way her eyes became hooded from his touch. It’s obvious that she had no idea what was happening and what she was feeling and that only fueled his hunger more.
 The thought of her being hurt made him furious. It made him protective. He wants to protect her at all costs because not even the ends of her hair should get hurt. No. Not on his watch.
 Steve couldn’t take her out of her mind even if he wanted to. That’s the problem. He doesn’t want her out of his mind anymore. He doesn’t want to avoid her anymore.
 Steve accepted it. 
 He knows that he wants her and he knows that she’ll be able to have him wrapped around her precious little finger if she wants to. 
 He realized how she has a tight hold over him without even knowing it and he’s accepted that fact. 
 He’s ready to do everything for the girl and she doesn’t even know it. He’s ready to give her everything he has and everything he is. 
 He’s ready to give himself completely to her. Of course, it is if she’ll have him.
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  After that encounter with Steve, you finally followed his instruction and stopped trying to make various meals in the kitchen. 
 You were craving cake so you asked one of the cooks to bake you a cake. That’s why there’s a whole cute pink cake in front of you at the kitchen counter. 
 You’re currently staring at it, thinking it’s too precious to destroy and eat but after a minute of your mouth watering, you give up and run your index finger on the sides until it is covered in icing.
 You licked your finger before sucking on it and humming at the sweet taste of the icing while your eyes are closed. When there is none left on your finger, you take your index and middle finger before sliding it on the sides of the cake to gather twice as much as the previous one.
 Your eyes are closed and lips parted slightly apart, ready to suck on your fingers one more time when a hand grips your wrist. Your eyes fly open to see Steve holding your hand while he’s looking down at your face with a boyish grin. Your eyes widened for the second time when his tongue darted out of his mouth and started licking the icing off your fingers.
 He was staring at you as he continued to lick the icing and you were starting to pull away when his lips parted wider to start sucking on your fingers. You’re frozen in shock as your eyes twitched at the sight of him sucking on your fingers. 
 You feel your heart drop when he starts groaning against your fingers. The unfamiliar feeling in your stomach made itself known again and you bit your bottom lip anxiously at the strange feelings you always get whenever Steve’s with you. 
 Your eyes follow Steve’s lips as he pulls your fingers out of his mouth with a silent pop. He looks at you with a smile before furrowing his brows. “Did you bake this?”
 “N-no! I had someone to bake it for me.” You’re quick to let him know that you didn’t make the cake. He smiled again and you just realize how giddy you feel when you’re able to make him smile like that. 
 “Really? So you finally listened to me?” He chuckles when he sees you nod shyly at him. “Aren’t you a good little girl.” He cooes before looking at the cake with a smirk. “This cake is really delicious…” He leans back to stand straight and you nodded at him in agreement. “I wonder…” 
 You let out a loud squeal when he suddenly puts his hands under your arms before pulling you up and sitting you down on the counter. You look at him with a stunned expression. “Wha—“ 
 “But I bet you taste better than this cake.” You couldn’t respond because he immediately connects his lips with yours, making your eyes pop out in shock as he continues to attack your mouth. You let out a small whimper when you feel his tongue pushing past your lips and roaming around the inside of your mouth, tickling the roof of your mouth.
 You start chuckling against his lips and he stops, looking at you in confusion. “You’re tickling me…” You point at the top of your mouth and Steve’s frown turned into a grin. His hand found their ways on the top of your knees and then he’s pushing them apart. “I know a place where I can tickle you... I’m sure you’ll like it.” He pulls you closer to him so you slide against the counter. He carefully pushes your shoulders until your back is laying on the cold kitchen counter. You feel him hiking your skirt up and pulling your underwear down before he sets your feet back on the counter, knees bent, and far apart. 
 You could feel him breathing against your skin and you could feel your body running hot while the hairs on your body stand in attention. You feel something wet run against your skin and you yelp as you sit on your elbows, looking at Steve alarmingly. His face was just in front of your core and tongue is just retreating your skin. 
 “Wh-what are you doing, Steve?” You bite your lip as you watch him stand up until he’s face to face with you. “I’m trying to make you feel good, baby. Do you trust me?” He presses his lips against yours and pulls away, waiting for your answer.
 “I don’t know…” You admit, stomach dropping at the sadness that flashes over his face.
 “Then let me show you that you can trust me. Can you let me do that?” He looks at you and smiles when you nod at him. He presses his lips on you once more, pushing you against the kiss until your back is back on the counter. He pulls away, pecking you one last time before going back to press kisses in between your legs.
 He licks up your skin, hands pressing down on your hips when you begin squirming around. You feel his mouth sucking on the bud before flicking his tongue over it. He doesn’t stop until you’re whining under him, unsure if you want him to stop or to do something else.
 “What do you want, little girl?” He breathes against your core, making your legs shiver at the sensation. 
 “I don’t know…” You whine, eyes staring at him as he stands over your body. He raises his right hand, fingers fluttering in display as he gives you a questioning look. “You want me to use this on you?” You could only nod in desperation because the feeling of emptiness when he pulled away from you is becoming too much.
 “Good girl.” You hear him whisper before going back in between your legs. You feel his fingers playing with your bud instead of his tongue and it feels overwhelming when he uses his tongue to press it against your entrance. 
 “Mmmhm” You close your eyes in delight as he continues to play with you. The familiar feeling in your abdomen makes itself known once again and this time, it’s stronger. You need more.
 “P-please…” You mutter under your breath, pulling on Steve’s hair to catch his attention. He looks at you with a proud smile before asking. “What is it? You need more? Want me to put my finger inside you, is that it?” 
 ——
 Steve smiles when she nods her head eagerly. So innocent, can’t even tell him what she wants. What she needs.
 He rubs on her clit a few more times to wet his fingers before lining a finger against her slit. He looks back at her as he starts pushing the finger in, slowing down when her hand grips her arm. 
 Steve groans at the tightness of her walls against his finger and starts to slowly pump it as he watches her face contort into a pleasured frown. When he feels her loosening up, he adds another finger that earns a low moan from her. Steve stiffens for a second when he feels his pants getting tighter in the crotch area. His cock is begging him for attention but he pays no mind, focusing on the angel in front of him.
 He spreads his fingers apart inside of her as he leans down to start flicking his tongue against her clit, smirking against it when her thighs shiver against his head. He feels her breaths starting to become uneven and he knows that she’s just about to cum so he doubles his effort, sucking her clit harshly and curling his fingers inside of her.
 Her back arches off the counter and Steve hooks an arm under her to pull her up and press her against his chest. She shakes against his hold as he helps her get through her high. She slumps against his hold, head falling down the side of his neck. 
 Steve tilts his head to look at her face, eyes hooded and forehead sweating. She looks so adorable like this. “That cake gave us such a rush, huh?” He chuckles before hooking her legs around his torso and hugging her body close to his. He feels her dozing off as he carries her to her bedroom. 
 He lays you down on the bed and tucks you under your blanket before studying your face. So peaceful. So relaxed. A smile forms on your face and Steve finds himself smiling as well.
 “Goodnight, my sweet little girl.” He presses a kiss on your forehead before walking out of your room. 
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  It’s currently four in the afternoon and Steve is currently sitting on a couch in the massive living room, thinking about the night he has planned for him and his little girl. 
 After that time in the kitchen, things have been great with them. It’s been a few months and he became someone he didn’t know he could be and it was all for her. He wants nothing but the best for his girl. He gives her the ‘special treatment’ or ‘reward’ whenever she asks for it. She’ll do something nice for him to receive his special kisses but Steve knew that he’ll give her anything without her working for it. He just likes the attention he gets from her when she gets a little needy.
 Steve feels his crotch stirring under his pants at the thought of eating his little girl out. He always eats her out and makes her putty with his fingers but his cock remains abandoned. 
 He didn’t think she was ready. He didn’t want to scare his girl. He’ll wait as long as he needs until his little girl’s ready for him. For the time being, he’ll make sure to keep his little girl happy and satisfied.
 Steve’s thoughts were cut off when his little girl walked in front of him with a weird look on her face, a phone held against her right ear. He sits up in attention, his body becoming alert at the way her face scrunches up in fear as she looks at him.
 “What’s wrong, little girl?” His voice is a whisper but his tone is hard. 
 She looks at him with a frown before handing him the phone. He looks at it and listens to her as she speaks.
 “Father called… Which is weird because he never calls when they’re on a trip. Let alone a business trip. He told me that the trip would be a few months and I didn’t think they would be in some kind of situation after being gone for almost seven months… They’re usually gone longer than that. But then that guy—” She points at the phone in Steve’s hand before continuing her explanation.
 “—That guy took the phone away from my father when he’s explaining something to me about telling something to you, Steve. His name is Rumlow and he’s got a very foul mouth—” He watches as her nose scrunches up, probably at the memory of the man’s words on the phone but Steve didn’t care about that. He’s worried about Rumlow talking to you. Through your father’s phone at that!
 Steve presses the phone against his ear before asking who’s on the other line.
 “Ahh, Rogers… Where’s the little brat? I thought she’s enjoying the things I’m promising her. Told her about how my cock will make her cunt cry—” Steve feels his blood boiling at the way Rumlow is talking about his little girl.
 “What are you on about, Rumlow? What are you doing with that phone?” Steve cuts Rumlow off, voice so harsh that he sees her flinching at his tone. He smiles at her before ushering her back to her room.
 “You see… Your girl is supposed to be mine. I saw her first but imagine the surprise I got when I ask her dear daddy for her hand and he tells me that she’s married to a Steve fucking Rogers.” Steve hears Rumlow’s bitter laugh before hearing her little girl’s father groan in pain, no doubt that he took a blow from Rumlow.
 “I just want a simple deal here, Rogers. I’ll text the address and I expect to have the girl and a bag filled with… I don’t know, ten million dollars? If you’re too broke then just bring the girl. I’m sure she’ll make the lack of ten million with her pretty little cunt.” Rumlows cackle was heard along with the cries of your parents. He must’ve held them as hostages. 
 “Do that and her parents stay safe. Be here at 9 pm sharp or it’s bye-bye for her lovely parents. Tik-Tok, Rogers. Tik-Tok…” Steve almost crushes the phone into pieces in his hand when Rumlow hangs up on him. Rumlow holds your parents as hostages and dares to speak about you like that. He’ll fucking kill him.
 The phone buzzes and he sees the address Rumlow sent him. They were no longer in Prague. They’re back here...
 Steve makes a move to call his best man, Bucky, when he hears sounds coming from her room. He quickly runs over, throwing her door open to see her shoving a bunch dollar bills into a huge bag while a phone is pressed against her neck and her shoulder. 
 Steve’s heart falls at the sight of tears falling down her face. She must’ve heard everything with the connecting phone lines. He sighs before walking over to his girl and steadying her by holding her shoulders in a firm grip. “Everything will be alright. I’ll call someone to fix the problem. They’ll clear the building, catch the bad guy, and then your parents will be home in no time!” Steve gives her a smile but it doesn’t work. Her face is still wet with tears as she shakes her head in disagreement.
 “No! The b-bad guy will harm my parents if he sees your men without me! I don’t w-want anything bad happening to my family, Steve. I-I don’t want that!” He pulls her against his chest as he sobs and shakes against his hold. Steve runs a comforting hand on her back before sighing in defeat. 
 “Fine. We’ll save your parents but I have to call my friends for backup. And you have to stay as far away from the fighting. I’ll have my best guy, James, be with you the whole time. You can trust him, he’s my best friend. You need to stick with him because he’ll keep you safe, got it?” He gives her a firm yet gentle look, jaw clenching when she nodded eagerly at him before continuing to fill the bag with cash. 
 He makes his calls and in no time, they’re driving towards the address Rumlow sent him.
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  Steve parks the car a few miles away from the building where her parents are being held as hostages. He looks at his little girl who’s currently wearing sweatpants and his hoodie which looks pretty big on her. He smiles at the sight before letting out a shaky breath. 
 “You gotta stay here, okay? I promise that I’ll get your parents out safely. You don’t have to worry about them because I’ll protect them for you, okay? You trust me, little girl?” He watches her as she reluctantly nods her head. He sighs at that before handing her a pistol gun. “You know how to use one?” He asks, surprised to see his little girl nod. She must’ve seen his surprised look because she looks down before explaining, “I had basic shooting lessons.”  He smiles at his little girl before nodding. 
 He gets out of the car before walking around and opening the door for his girl and helping her out. He sees James walking over to them and he nods at his friend in acknowledgment before looking back at his girl. “This is Bucky. He’ll keep you safe. Stick with him, alright?” He watches her girl as she observes his friend with her adorable curious eyes.  
 “The others are already surrounding the building. Backup is also ready. Just say something and they’ll attack. Good luck out there.” He smiles at Bucky’s words before kissing his girl’s forehead.
 “Please stay safe, Steve.” His girl mutters and he feels his heart skip a beat at that moment. “I will. Anything for you, little girl.” He turns to leave, hearing his girl one last time before disappearing. 
 “That’s a nice-looking vest, Mr. Bucky.”
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  Everything was going well for Steve. Rumlow’s men are really weak and easy to take down and when Rumlow realized that, he ran. He ran away like the coward he is. He ran out of the building and that was that. At least, that’s what Steve thought. 
 He was able to see her parents and he quickly untied them, her mother thanking him endlessly while her father only grumbled his thanks once. 
 He was guiding the couple out of the building, surprised to see his little girl standing a few miles away from them with Bucky. He sees her eyes brighten in relief that made all his worries disappear. 
 He was walking with her parents when he heard the cocking of a gun beside his head. 
 “Not so fast.” A raspy voice speaks beside him.
 Rumlow…
 Before Steve could even move, a bang was heard. Followed by another bang that has his ears ringing in pain. He closes his eyes to ease the aching in his head or his body. Was he shot? 
 His eyes fly open when he remembers that his girl is also out in the open and his eyes quickly darts over towards her.
 To his surprise, his girl is holding the gun he gave her earlier in his direction. 
 Steve quickly scans the couple near him for injuries when he hears someone groaning below him. He finds Rumlow laying on his back, legs bleeding while his arms are spread out. 
 He looks back at his girl, a sense of pride filling his system. His girl just did that. 
 He watches as his girl runs towards him with her arms wide open, ready to envelop him in a hug. 
 Steve grins before he hears Rumlow muttering and everything seems to be moving in slow motion. 
 “If I can’t have her… Then nobody can!” Rumlow spits before a loud bang go out.
 Steve’s eyes grow wide when he sees the bullet piercing through his hoodie and into his girl’s chest. 
 His heart stops when he sees her falling down into Bucky’s arms and onto the cold ground. 
 Her mother’s cries filled Steve’s ringing ears as well as her father’s curses as he tried to console his wife.
 Steve quickly kicks the gun from Rumlow’s hand before kicking the bastard’s face repeatedly until he’s unconscious. He releases all his anger on the bastard who shot his little girl by bending down and throwing punches down the unconscious man. He keeps punching until he sees Bucky carrying his girl towards them. 
 He pulls back from a bleeding Rumlow before running towards Bucky and taking his girl from his best friend. He brushes some stray hair away from her forehead before observing her face. 
 “Call the fucking ambulance!” He barks at nobody but Bucky follows his order, quickly fumbling with his phone and calling their mob doctor. 
 Steve was about to rip his hoodie off his girl when her eyes suddenly flew open, gasping for air. 
 Steve’s heart stops for a second, he doesn’t know if it’s from shock or relief but he’s grateful to see his little girl alive and breathing. He feels her wrap her arms around his neck, burying her face on the side of his neck as she catches her breath. He wraps his arm around her shaking body, gripping her tight and pulling her body against his like he’s afraid that she’ll slip away from his grasp.
 “Mother. Father. I’m so glad you’re okay!” He hears his girl talking to her parents who are currently behind him. He should let her go to reunite with her parents but he doesn’t. He keeps her against his body. 
 “Are you okay, dear?” Her mother asks and he feels his girl nodding against his neck. His girl finally pulls away from him before tugging on the hoodie she’s wearing and pulling it up to reveal a bulletproof vest. 
 Bucky’s laughter fills the air and everyone turns to look at him. “You little genius!” He exclaims before pointing at his little girl. “She kept bothering me about my vest and didn’t stop until I gave her one! Ah... You got yourself a keeper and a smartass, Steve!” He continues to laugh, her parents soon follow Bucky until everyone is laughing as well. 
 Everyone’s laughter is cut off by Rumlow waking up before gasping for air just like you were a few moments ago. 
 He pulls his girl against his chest, blocking her view from Bucky who gets his gun out before pointing it towards Rumlow’s head. 
 Steve covers his girl’s ears before another bang goes out. The last one for the night.
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  “I’m really fine, Steve. Dr. Banner said I was fine! No scars and all, see?” You pull your hoodie up to assure him. You watch him stare at your skin, probably looking for scars before he forces your hoodie down with a frown as he bites his lip. 
 “You can’t just pull your shirt up like that. People might see.” His hushed and commanding voice makes you gulp and nod apologetically. 
 You look around as he walks the both of you towards the lake. “But there’s nobody around, Steve.” You whisper, looking down at the dirt as you walk with him. 
 You feel his warm fingers under your chin before your head is tilted up so you’re looking directly up at him. “You really are a smartass, huh?” He smirks, feeling your body warm up against his hold before throwing his arm around your shoulders to continue walking.
 Steve holds you close as the both of you walk down the dock under the darkness of the night. He stops just at the end of the dock before turning to face you. 
 You admire his face, looking so enchanting under the light of the moonlight. “You remember the first time we met?” He asks, grinning at your embarrassed reaction which is you chewing your bottom lip. He caresses your face before running his thumb across your lips, stopping your teeth’s attacks on your lips.
 “How you’re taught to shoot a gun but not how to swim will always be a mystery.” He chuckles, smiling down at you and you watch him as he does just that. He’s just so pretty to look at.
 “You really scared me tonight, little girl…” His sad tone made your eyebrows shoot up in worry. “I-I didn’t mean to, Steve! I’m so sorry.” You frown at yourself but he brushes his fingers on the wrinkles you made between your eyebrows which makes you relax just a bit.
 “I was supposed to be the one protecting you. Not the other way around.” He lets out a sigh before looking at the water. “But thank you. Thank you for doing that. And for trusting me. I know you were a little hesitant with trusting me but you still did. So thank you for that. It means a lot.” Steve looks back at you and smiles. You feel your heart fluttering at his smile but it also breaks at his words. You wanted to tell him that he’s wrong but you are cut off by a bunch of lights.
 You gasp at the lights that start to flicker all around you. You do a slow full 360, looking at the trees that are covered with fairy lights, the side of the docks are covered with lights as well, and the darkness is soon replaced by a whole bunch of lights. Your heart starts to jump when you hear slow music playing in the background and it feels like every time you do a full 360 turn, something new presents itself. 
 Everything seems so magical, so pretty and so… Something straight out of the fairytale movies that you watch. 
 You turn to face Steve again only to find him gone. You frown before looking down to see him down on one knee, a red velvet box in his hand which he holds towards you.
 You feel yourself grinning with so much joy running through your system and you can’t help but to let out a squeal when the velvet box opens to reveal a very pretty diamond ring. 
 “Little girl… Will you make me the happiest man alive by marrying me?” He asks, uncharacteristically shy which makes you giggle. You start giggling more which makes Steve lick his lips as his eyes flash his nervousness. 
 “Steve, you’re so dumb.” You mumble through giggles. 
 “Huh?” Steve slowly stands up, looking at you with sad eyes.
 “We’re already married! We both signed the papers!” You point out the obvious, stopping your giggle fit before kissing him on the lips.
 “Don’t be sad, Steve… I accept your proposal… Even though we’re already married.” You giggle once more before letting him put the ring on you.
 He guides you until the both of you are sitting on the edge of the dock, feet dangling down the water.
 “I just wanted you to have a normal yet magical experience even just for a moment,” Steve whispers after a few minutes of silence.
 “That’s kind of useless.” You automatically say.
 “What? Why?” Steve feels his heart fall at your words. Is he doing this whole thing wrong?
 “I already feel like that whenever I’m with you.” You state, looking at him like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
 Steve feels his heart beat an extra mile but he also feels relieved that he’s indeed doing it right. 
 You grin at the sight of Steve blushing in front of you. You never thought that the man who was so hard on you the first time you met was going to be a blushing mess in front of you right now.
 “Hey, Steve?” Your voice cuts the thin air and he looks at you with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah?”
 “You know how I saved your life earlier…” Steve smiles at your bashful expression that he finds so adorable.
 “Mhmm…” He nonchalantly hums.
 “Well… I was thinking…” You bite your lip in nervousness and embarrassment at the question you’re about to ask him.
 “What is it, little girl?” His voice is matched with a chuckle as he gives you a grin.
 “Can I have a reward for that?” You blurt out.
 Steve feels his cock stir in his pants at her words. He bites his lip before standing up and helping her up as well.
 “I’ll give you everything you want, little girl. It doesn’t have to be a reward. You ask for it, you get it, is that clear?” He gives you a questioning look before smiling when you nod eagerly at him.
 “Now, what is it that you want as a reward?” 
 ————-
He trails kisses from your forehead to your nose, nose to your cheeks, cheeks to your neck. He purposely skips your lips with a grin and starts feasting on your neck. He licks and sucks on a spot he knows too well, earning an adorable squeak from you when he teasingly bites on the skin. “S-Steve!” You gasp, hands going straight to his head, fingers sliding through his soft hair. He continues nipping on your neck until your head tilts back and a quiet moan escapes your lips.
 He pulls away to look at you and then smirks.
 “You want me to give you those special kisses for your rewards?” He cocks a brow before smiling when you nod your head eagerly at him. “Y-yes please.” 
 Steve wastes no time to pleasure you. His little girl.
 He dives for your glistening core and groans in pleasure at your taste. He uses his tongue to stimulate you through your clit, enjoying the way your body shakes under his hold.
 Steve listens to your moans and whimpers like a song and uses it as motivation to keep you a writhing mess under him. “Please, S-Stevie…” He hears you cry under him, reaching your hands towards his hands and pulling it closer to his face as he tongues your clit. 
 Steve chuckles at your needy behavior but complies, not missing the nickname leaving your lips. Anything for his little girl.
 Steve easily enters a finger into your wet core, groaning at your warmness and wetness before adding another finger. He sees your face contorting into a mix of pleasure and pain. Steve leans down to kiss your clit and flicks his tongue faster to distract you from the pain.
 “A-aah” He watches your eyes rolling back when he begins to spread his fingers inside you. Another finger enters and you’re crumbling against his fingers, walls closing around his fingers as you cum undone under him. He pulls away from you before reaching for your face and kissing you hungrily. He smiles against the kiss when he feels you return the kiss with the same hunger.
 He feels you pulling away and he lets you, frowning a little when he sees you looking at him timidly. His hand carefully reaches for your face, knuckles gliding down for cheeks smoothly. “What is it, little girl?” 
 He watches you bite your lip before looking at him with half-lidded eyes. “I w-want to give you special kisses too…” Steve freezes as he feels his cock getting harder than before. He feels your hands reaching for his member, giving him a look before gulping. “C-can you teach me? I want to make you feel good too…” 
 Steve doesn’t know which is beating harder; his cock or his heart, maybe both… Probably both. You do that to him. Only you. His little girl. 
 Steve finds himself gulping as well. “You don’t have to, litt—” 
 “I want to!” You’re quick to cut him off. Almost eager, he notices. He lets out a nervous laugh before nodding. “Okay, okay… I’ll teach you.” He doesn’t miss the way your eyes light up from his approval. He smiles at you before guiding your hands that’s currently holding his hard member.
 “Just do this gently…” He guides your hands up and down his shaft, head going crazy at the sight of your hands not being able to cover his huge cock. He bites his lip, willing himself to hold on and not cum on your hands so early.
 “C-can I kiss it now?” He looks down at you, sitting on the mattress as your innocent eyes look up at him while he stands on the ground. “Go ahead, little girl. Try it.” He encourages you, smiling when you press a quick kiss on his tip. His jaw clenches when you press another kiss, longer this time. 
 Steve’s eyes flutter when he feels your tongue dancing around his tip. You begin to lick along the shaft and then under, making Steve groan wantonly. 
 Steve lets out a frustrated huff when you quickly pull away from him. “I-I’m sorry. I was just doing what you did to me. I-I didn’t mean to hurt you!” Your eyes are teary and Steve realized that his moans made you think that you hurt him.
 He sighs before leaning down to your face, giving you an assuring smile before kissing your nose. “You didn’t do anything wrong, little girl. You’re doing everything right. In fact, you’re doing so great that my friend down there couldn’t help but to go wild under your touch.” He points at his member before grinning at your widened eyes.
 “I’m going to guide you. There’s no reason to be afraid. If you want to stop, just tap me and we will stop. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, okay?” He waits for your response and lets out a breath of relief when you nod.
 He stands back up, putting your hands on his behind and guiding your face just in front of his cock. “Open wide, little girl.” He sings and grins when you do as told. He holds the back of your head but never pushes you, leaving you to go at your own pace.
 You push yourself forward, taking him halfway before pulling back and pushing yourself back to him. His moans of pleasure push you to do more so you do. You swirl your tongue on his tip as you bob your head, smiling at the loud moan that leaves his lips. 
 “You little tease…” He breathes out, his grip on your head getting tighter but not enough to hurt you. He feels the vibration of your laughter on his cock and he lets out another cry of pleasure.
 Feeling confident with yourself, you push yourself forward until his tip hits the back of your throat, making you gag.
 He helps you as you pull away from him, looking down at you with his flushed face. He studies your face, eyes shadowed with lust, making his heart do somersaults. He wipes the tears on your face before saying, “Breathe through your nose, okay?” He watches you nod and chuckles when you go back for his cock, taking him deep at a slow pace and staying there for a second before pulling slightly away. “That’s my good girl…” He moans as you continue to take him, teasing his tip with your tongue when he suddenly pulls you away from him.
 “Did I—” He cuts you off with a kiss, groaning against your lips and pushing you until you’re lying on your back with him on top of you. “You did great. I just want my cum somewhere else…” He catches your lips when you bite on them, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth.
 He pulls away, guiding your body until he’s kneeling between your thighs, one hand on his cock while the other is on your thigh. “Is this okay?” He asks when he places the tip of his cock on your slit.
 You gingerly nod, whimpering when he slides his cock on your sensitive clit. “P-please…” You have no idea what you’re begging for but he seems to know what he’s doing. 
 “Do you trust me, little girl?” Steve asks, looking at your face with hopeful eyes.
 “Yes, Stevie. I trust you.” Steve’s heart warms up at how fast you answered his question. He nods before sliding a few more teasing thrusts into your folds and clit before slowly sliding his tip into your slit. He stops to look at your face that’s contorted into a frown. He leans down your face to kiss your frown away and kisses your lips as well, hoping to distract you from the pain. 
 Steve pushes his cock deeper when he feels you relax under him. He pushes slowly and stops when he’s fully in, groaning when your walls hug his member tightly. “Fuck!” He hisses before looking at you. “You okay?” He asks, smiling when you nod at him, eyes closed. He kisses your lips before pulling halfway and thrusting into you once more, earning a little whimper from you.
 “How are you feeling, baby?” You try to ignore the nickname, opening your eyes and looking straight at his eyes. “G-good. Please move, Stevie.” You press your palms against his chest. He pulls halfway out before shoving himself inside you again, repeating this action until you’re moaning loudly under him and clutching his biceps for support.
 Steve feels your walls fluttering around him, alarming him that you’re close. He knows he’s close as well so he helps you reach your peak by rubbing your clit with his fingers, groaning at how your walls tighten around him.
 Steve listens to your cries of pleasure as your walls clamp down on his cock as you cum, making him cum as well and milking him. Your body shakes under him and both of you breathe heavily as you try to catch your breath. He falls to your side, his arms enveloping around you to pull you against his chest into a warm and strong embrace.  
 “It’s official. We just consummated our marriage... I’m all yours just as much as you’re all mine.” He stares at your face, watching your eyes as you fight yourself from falling asleep.
 “I fucking love you, little girl.” He lazily says, brushing your face with his fingers. You stare at him sleepily, listening to the beat of his heart.
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  “The fuck is he doing?” Your father grumbles as he watches Steve prance around the kitchen.
 “He’s making our daughter breakfast. I think our daughter broke him.” Your mother snickers at the way your father looks at Steve in disbelief. 
 “You tellin’ me that he touched Y/N?!” Your father fumes, getting ready to walk up to the man in the kitchen before your mother stops him.
 “Oh, hunny. Would you stop that? They’re married. And Y/N is an adult. They both are. They can do anything they want. And I can see that Steve really loves our daughter. The way he acted after Y/N got shot. Not to mention the part where he literally saved our asses. Your ass.” Your mother berates your father who just huffs in response before leaving. Your mother chuckles before following her husband, ready to give him a piece of her mind.
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  “You made cookies without me?” Steve’s heart flutters as you pout at him. “I want to make cookies too…” You mumble under your breath. You just woke up from your sleep when Steve entered the room with a plate full of cookies.
 “I didn’t want you getting into any accidents, little girl.” Steve chuckles when you take one cookie before grumpily munching on it. He watches as your eyes light up before covering it up with a frown. “Will you stop calling me little girl?”
 “Never.” He simply says. You huff and Steve couldn’t help but to chuckle at your cuteness.
 “Your cookies aren't even that good. I make better cookies.” You mumble before taking another cookie from the plate and munching on it. Steve raises an eyebrow at you before shaking his head. “I know you do, little girl. I know you do.” He smiles at you before making a move to sit beside you. 
 “No! Wait! Stay there.” You point a finger at him before fumbling around the sheets as if looking for something. 
 “You okay?” Steve asks, eyes shooting open when you jump out of the bed to stand in front of him, only the sheets covering your body. You realize this and quickly pull on the hoodie from last night before looking back at Steve with a grin.
 “Hi,” You start, earning a confused look from Steve. “Hello?” He chuckles when you look at him with so much excitement that you’re literally bouncing on your toes.
 “I want to give you something.” 
 “What is it?” Steve watches your fist as you hold it against his face before opening it, revealing a gold ring that looks to be vintage or a hundred years old.
 “Where’d that come from, little girl?” Steve whispers.
 “Can I put it on you? Will you marry me too?” You ignore his question, too excited to listen to anything. Steve laughs before nodding, watching you with adoration as you giddily put the ring on him. 
 “There! So pretty! You’re so pretty, Stevie!” You continue to admire the ring on his finger when he takes your chin with said hand, making you look up at him. 
 “Thank you, little girl.” He leans down to press a kiss on your lips before pulling away with a smile.
 “My father gave it to me.” You blurt out, making Steve’s eye widen just a bit. 
 “Your father?” He asks, not sure about what’s happening.
 “Yes. He came here earlier. Told me that you deserve the ring and that you should never make him regret anything?” Steve listens to you, you obviously don’t know what your father did but it’s enough for Steve to understand.
 “Oh… And Stevie?” He looks at you, smiling and asking you if you need something.
 “I love you too.” You grin at him.
 Steve stares at you for a moment before feeling tears sliding down his cheeks.
 He makes a quick move towards you, pulling you in a tight embrace and pampering your face with kisses.
 “I love you, little girl. Thank you for saying it back.” He mumbles against your hair before pressing a kiss on your lips once more.
 “Stop calling me little girl!” You grumble against him.
 He only chuckles at you before shaking his head. “No. You’ll always be my little girl.”
 ----
a/n: omfg if you finished all that, congratulations you just wasted a whole lot of ur time but thanks for wasting it on me 3;-)
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jennagrinsoverml · 4 years ago
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ML Fic Recs - Ladynoir
I think most readers can appreciate a good rec list, but it’s often the same fics that I see recced again and again. I get why they’re recced - they’re amazing! But I want help finding fic I haven’t already read. So I decided to be the change I want to see in the world. The rule: the fic must have less than a thousand kudos on AO3 (but I’m trying to limit to fics that have less than 500.) Obviously this means a lot of my favourites are not included here, but you’ve probably read all of those already anyway. 
If you enjoy these, please reblog so more readers can find these awesome fics!
To get things started and in honour of the quality ladynoir content we just got (which I’m hoping will inspire even more quality fan content!), let’s have some ladynoir recs. Fics are in no particular order.
Amnesiac? More like Amnesi-Chat by therealjanebingley
Oblivio's back, and this time only Chat Noir gets hit. Based on his limited knowledge and the way Ladybug acts towards him, he makes some assumptions.
One-shot. This is hilarious. From Chat’s genuine glee about his superheroes to Ladybug’s affectionate indulgence to having Chat provide an “outside perspective” on Ladybug’s non-platonic behaviour towards him to the teasing... I could see this actually happening in an Oblivio 2.0 episode.
Experimental Kisses by @komorebirei
Ladybug watched him. Maybe it was guilt, maybe sympathy, maybe a streak of playfulness. Maybe the traumatic akuma experience had softened her up. Whatever the reason, a thought wafted lazily through her mind and out of her mouth. “You know… you’re right. It isn’t fair, is it?”
Chat Noir looked up.
“I remember my first kiss, but you don’t.” She hummed and tapped her chin, making a show of remembering. “It wasn’t a bad kiss, but we were in the middle of fighting an akuma, so I didn’t get to enjoy it much, either.”
Oops—that came out sounding a little, no, a lot more flirty than she had intended. Anyway, if she was going to commit to this idea, she may as well go all in.
One-shot. Ladybug offers to kiss Chat since he doesn’t remember their kiss and the way she reacts to the kiss...it lives in my mind rent-free. I have fallen asleep many a night fantasizing about what the repercussions of the kiss might look like. 
What's your favourite colour? by @hermionemonica
Ladybug and Chat Noir sit on a rooftop, watching the sunset.
One-shot. This fic is short and sweet and absolutely lovely. It’s set post-reveal and despite only being 566 words it’s full of sweetness and feeling.
Margins of Error by orphan_account
“Do you…” Ladybug's voice is at an almost-whisper. He can feel her breath fire-hot against his face. “Do you want me to show you how I think they should write our kiss?”
Adrien isn’t here anymore, leave a message after the tone.
--
Adrien was raised on order. His life is meticulously planned, each day as reliable as the equations he studies in physics and calculus. But Ladybug- Ladybug always has him at a loss.
One-shot. Okay, so I know the author of this one since I download all my favourite fics, but since they’ve orphaned it I’m going to respect that. However, since the author was kind enough to leave the work up so people can continue to enjoy it, I’m going to suggest that people do so! Ladynoir kisses featuring my absolute favourite dynamic: sexually assertive Ladybug and receptive Chat Noir. (Don’t take this to mean the fic has sexual content - it’s just kissing.) AMAZING.
Liquid Luck by @somethingvaguetodo
Ladybug enlists Chat Noir's help in decoding the remaining ingredients for the power-up transformation potions. Together, they work on creating them, and possibly destroying the barriers between them.
Multi-chapter. The riddles of the secret potion ingredients are fun to think about, Ladybug and Chat Noir both get to show off their smarts, and the trust and support between the two of them is showcased. Perfect ladynoir.
when you weren't mine to lose by @bugsandchatons
Change is a scary thing, especially when it feels like nothing has stayed the same.
It's been a year since Marinette became the Guardian of the Miracle Box - a year of struggling beneath a burden she never asked for, a weight that has her leaning on her partner more and more as the hours fly by, of letting him come to her, too, when he needs a soft place to land. A year of falling for the boy who takes on the world by her side with a smile made of sunlight, and fighting the growing urge to tell him what he means to her.
After all, they'll have time enough for that when Paris is safe.
But when the unthinkable happens, Marinette learns the tragedy of loving someone quietly, and the lines she'll cross to save him.
Multi-chapter. This is what happens when Ladybug loses Chat Noir. It hurts in all the best ways and the writing is absolutely gorgeous and somehow we still get a happy ending!
well if i'm beautiful and you're beautiful then who's saving paris? by celebreultimaverba
Chat flirts. Surprisingly, it works.
And then it backfires.
One-shot. This one is so cute and sweet! It’s a quick read but you’ll be smiling by the end of it.
sometimes the dreamers finally wake up by magesamell
"Four days ago a mermaid flooded Paris and an ancient guardian introduced himself to his father as a substitute Chinese tutor. He had thought that would be the end of it."
Ladybug tells Chat Noir all of her secrets.
One-shot. Post-Syren. The fic we all desperately need about Ladybug actively working to restore the balance of her and Chat’s relationship after Fu messes with that. It’s not overly romantic, but it’s absolutely perfect.
i fall in love just a little, oh, just a little by @mlady-noir
If she was asked, Ladybug wouldn't be able to give a specific date when her heart decided to fall for her pun loving partner, but she could point out the night she realized it.
One-shot. Sofffffttttttt. This is just a beautiful narrative of Ladybug’s fall for Chat with a sweet, sweet ending.
Someone I Can’t Fall In Love With by @yslen54
Ladybug agreed with Chat Noir when he suggested that they should finally share their identities with each other, but she’s been dreading it ever since.
One-shot. This is short and sweet. An identity reveal that explores Ladybug’s feelings for Chat Noir and then plays with the divided heart trope.
The following fics are amazing and absolutely worth reading, but do feature sexual content, so minors beware.
You can’t stay away from me by plikki
When Adrien sides with his father, he expects to protect Ladybug and buy some time. He doesn't expect that his emotional state will make it so much harder to resist the girl that he loves, until he just gives in.
Multi-chapter. Rated M. Not-quite an enemies AU, but with all the beautiful angst and tension of one. There’s a fair amount of sex, so be warned but it’s SO SO GOOD. And all of the pain and angst is followed by a sweet happy ending.
baby, we don't have time to be coy by Molebear
"What are we doing?" Chat breathes, the words sending a tendril of lucidity back into Ladybug's hormone-addled brain.
It's a fair question.
The origins of this tryst are a little hazy in her mind at this point. Something about a lovesick akuma, maybe? Ladybug vaguely remembers Chat Noir getting struck by something, only seconds before it hit her too. There was a fight, or... there was something she and Chat Noir had been in the middle of doing - something important, like.... save-the-world important - before she'd dragged him underground with the sole intention of climbing him like a tree.
A scorned lover gets akumatized and gains the power to cast Lust. When it comes to distracting Paris' beloved superhero team, this power turns out to be... rather effective.
One-shot. Rated M. The UST of this one damn near killed me. It’s hot AF and I would commit homicide to read the conversation these two have after that lmaoooo
Charmed, I'm Sure by @chatonne-rousse
Friends with benefits. It's right there in the name, and it's what they are - friends. Best friends. This is just a way for two consenting adults to relieve stress after akuma fights, with the only person they'd trust with this level of intimacy. Really, what could go wrong? (The real question is, what could go right?)
Multi-chapter. Rated E. The sex is really, really hot. It’s in character and full of emotion. And there’s an amazing identity reveal followed by “I’m so happy it’s you!” sex. 
A Little Too Far by imploder
Ladybug gets handsy, and Chat Noir lacks self-control. Alternitavely: "Plagg's Worst Nightmare".
One-shot. Rated E. This one is hot and in character and just absolutely amazing steamy ladynoir content. Features my favourite: sexually assertive Ladybug. Because who doesn’t love playing with gender role stereotypes?
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thickenmyblood · 3 years ago
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hey maca :)) I have sth that I’d love to hear your input on! (wall of text incoming so beware- I’m absolutely not mad if you don’t want to answer lmao). Basically it’s about how you portray women in your works and to what extent you see that portrayal mirrored in the canon books. I have noticed that a lot of writers tend to go a traditional route with for example daughters not being heirs like you also mentioned in an answer for a wtsioa ask on here. Considering the cultures Vere and Akielos are based on that’s obviously very logical and a lot of authors (including you) make it work fantastically! Yet personally I never got the vibe of Vere and Akielos being as patriarchal in canon, mostly because the Information we get is kind of confusing. On one hand damen is a walking manosphere (and. all of Akielos in general as well) without any prominent female figures in his life but on the other hand damen only ever speaks appreciatively of for example the female vaskian warriors. Both countries seem to ban women from the army yet Damen also refers to a warrior queen. The regent is a total misogynist but with the wording Laurent uses it almost seems like that is more the exception and not the general rule of veretian court life. Both countries also have ties to Vask, an exclusive matriarchy and Akielos is said to be similar to Patras which Pacat has stated is also partly a strong matriarchy due to vaskian occupations in the past. I could go on for a lot longer but I guess that damens overall positive attitude towards women and especially stereotypically spoken masculine women is what sticks out the most to me. It just seems kind of misplaced in a world that supposedly is as sexist as the original cultures from our world. Which is why I’d say both countries do have gender roles but are overall a lot more egalitarian than their respective real world og cultures. But that’s only my take and I’d love to hear more on what others think about the portrayal of women in canon and how they chose to portray it in fanfiction. Love you and your new work, hope you’re doing well❤️
HELLO!!! Thank you for asking me interesting stuff :, ) you always have the best questions and my sad little inbox is open to you any time, friend. I divided this into parts, so:
My portrayal of women: I need to work on this a lot lmao. I’m not proud of any female character I have ever written for this fandom, and I’m also not proud to say I struggle horribly when it comes to writing female OCs, especially if the story is not about a female character that is a literal projection of me. Or Bella Swan (yes, Twilight literally shaped my sad little brain and the way I write and consume fiction).
Authors writing female characters in a “traditional” way (for fantasy settings): I can’t speak for other authors but I definitely think, in my case, that using the “it’s a patriarchal society, women have no rights, women can’t be heirs, etc.” blueprint is a matter of being lazy. It’s quick, and easy, and it’s been done before so we all know how it works and a) it’s unlikely that you’ll mess it up (in the plot hole kind of way) and b) it’s obvious that most readers know how the usual system works and so you don’t have to spend paragraphs or even chapters explaining it to them. I am very lazy when it comes to world-building for fics. Why? Because when I’m writing fanfiction I don’t give two shits about the world, I just care about the characters doing Things and having Feelings. The moment you start to question these issues (a society where women can join the army, where they can be heirs, where maybe they can have multiple husbands, etc.) a billion issues arise because it’s not the “usual way” and so you’ll have to deal with “unusual problems”. See: plot holes, info-dumping, etc.
Vere and Akielos in canon: I think the books get very, very confusing at times when it comes to gender roles in that specific world. They also get very confusing about how royalty works, in my opinion. So:
Damen never mentions female influences in his life, not even nannies or wetnurses or anything. He mentions past queens and his mother, but even then… It’s always struck me as “what the actual fuck” that we get no information on Egeria. In TSP, he doesn’t even read as curious to me, especially when I think of that line that goes something like “oh, well, he’d never asked how tall she was”.
Then you have Jokaste, who is highborn and also… perhaps trained in politics? It’s unclear to me if she’s ever been directly involved in meetings or been an active member of the Council or even been allowed to study these issues. Clearly, she’s smart and capable and cunning, but like… how? Did she have private tutors? Is she a self-made woman? Like, what’s up with that? Are women allowed to engage in public politics? Are they allowed to be kyroi?
IMO, Damen complimenting the female warriors in Vask has to do with how appreciative he is of war-related stuff. Like, he thinks people with his own qualities are neat. We see this time and time again in the books—having honor, being brave, respecting one’s family, protecting those who need protecting… He compliments these things when he sees them in others, especially in Laurent. Obviously one of the big changes in Damen as a character is that he goes from being daddy’s boy to being like “well, actually… maybe war isn’t always the answer, and maybe war isn’t always honorable”. The Vaskian warriors prove themselves worthy of praise in a “manly” way, if that makes sense. (In the same way, Laurent proves himself in the Okton, not so much to Damen but to other Akielons). So, in essence, War > Any issues he may have about women doing Stuff.
Don’t judge me for this but I can’t remember the Regent talking about women. Do you have any quotes about that? I feel like Book 1 is super rich when it comes to world-building stuff and yet it’s the book I remember the least. I know he obviously has a preference for boys and not girls, but I don’t recall him having interactions with Vannes or ladies at court? I’M SORRY I’M SO STUPID but I don’t own the book so I can’t exactly word search my way out of this one, and so instead of saying stupid stuff, I’m asking anyone reading this (lol, you and my mom probably) to please tell me what canon says on this issue.
Ties to Vask: Er, yeah, I mean… They’re clearly not at war with Vask and have some sort of economic deal (there are Vaskian pets in Arles? Which makes me wonder if they, like, buy them from Vask? Or if the pets are Vaskian and turn into pets in Vere? Slaves are not like pets so I don’t know?), BUT just because they have deals with this kingdom/are on good terms with the ruler does not mean they necessarily approve? Like, maybe they’re like “yeah, it’s weird they give women so much power, but also I need that silk/leather/WHATEVER, so I’ll shut up about that”.
“Akielos is said to be similar to Patras which Pacat has stated is also partly a strong matriarchy due to Vaskian occupations in the past.” Is this in the books or is this something she said in an interview/post-releasing the trilogy? I know in the books there’s a quote that Akielos and Patras are similar because they both have slaves, but other than that I can’t quite remember anything about Patras? Like, I don’t recall Pacat giving us extensive and thorough world-building on either nation, at all. Once again, I am asking you for more explanations on this because I literally don’t remember.
4. My opinion and a Stupidity Disclaimer: As I’ve said above, there’s a lot of stuff I don’t remember and so I’m not trying to preach to anyone reading this or even saying that I hold the truth about… anything. I’m answering questions as I see fit and asking more questions when I run out of answers.
I believe world-building is not one of Captive Prince’s strong points. I will not elaborate on this because this is already long enough but there is simply, in my opinion, not enough material to reach any solid conclusions when it comes to world-building questions such as the role of women in Vere and Akielos, how compulsory homosexuality affects the development of highborn men and women in Vere, exactly what makes Akielos’ view on women different from Vere’s (if there’s any difference at all), the history of gender roles in this world and how it’s evolved up until canon, how Lamen can solve the heir issue without recurring to, once again, “the usual stuff” (concubines, bastards, marriage to women, etc.). It’s clear from what I’ve read that Pacat has come a long way as a writer and that her new trilogy has a lot more in-depth explanations to world-building questions, but this is not the case with CP, and so I’m afraid my answer to most of this is “I don’t know, and I don’t think anyone can know for sure”.
Lastly, I think I struggle a lot with understanding the role of women in this universe because I simply did not see enough women doing stuff, so I don’t know what’s permitted, what’s unacceptable, what’s illegal, what is straight-up execution worthy, etc. This is not me complaining about the lack of female characters in CP, at all, which I know is contradictory to stuff I’ve said in the past (I answered a couple asks a year ago about how I’d wished we’d gotten Vannes’ POV or Jokaste’s POV in the short stories). I’ve changed my mind, and so I think Pacat is entitled to write whatever she wants, just like I’m entitled to talk shit about KR with any living soul who will listen lmao.
To end this on a spicy note, I think sometimes we consume the wrong media and then complain because it doesn’t have what we wanted. If you’re looking for a trilogy with strong, fleshed-out female characters, Captive Prince is not for you. If you’re looking for a trilogy on female struggles and, I don’t know, defying… the male gaze… Captive Prince is not for you. There are plenty of books out there that focus exclusively on female characters, featuring sapphic relationships, and dealing with gender issues. WHICH IS NOT TO SAY WE SHOULDN’T BE HAVING THESE DISCUSSIONS. This is not about this particular question, but more about a lot of posts I’ve seen floating around… complaining about Pacat’s writing and the themes she didn’t explore.
If anyone has made it this far, thank you for reading, and know this is NOT me telling you what to think. This post is an open question that anyone can engage with, although I hope people will engage with this directly and on this platform, instead of… taking it somewhere else where I sadly can’t engage back! Unlike what happened with our awesome fat Laurent discussion, I will be replying to any questions I get on this (Note: I did not reply to most of those questions because a long time had passed and they were sort of repetitive).
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