#i was going to have it be awkward and both parties angsting while things more or less went on as normal

[rivalsispunk]

20 Cigarettes pt. II (DBF!Joel Miller x reader)

pt. I here

summary: you and Joel both war with the aftermath of your night in his truck, and it isn't long until the real world comes knocking and leaves you questioning everything.

tags/warning: +18, mdni. Joel is in his 40s, reader is in her 20s. age gap. f!reader. unprotected piv. creampie. SMUTT. angst. slow burn. jealous Joel. jealous reader. drinking, swearing. bondage if you squint, (if I've missed anything let me know and I'll amend),. no outbreak, non canon, mention of TLOU characters but nothing is in line with the show/game aside from the fact Joel is the dilf to end all dilfs

w/c: 9.7k

a/n: not edited really, just wanted to get it out! so if any mistakes, my apologies x

It’s been a week.

Seven full days since Dina’s bachelorette party. Since the storm. Since Joel’s mouth was on your throat, his hands on your hips, and his voice in your ear telling you to come for him. A week since his weight pressed you into the worn leather of his truck’s bench seat like he was trying to carve himself into your skin.

And then he drove you home.

The ride was quiet. Awkward. Joel tried to make it normal. Failed.

“Storm cleared up nice,” he said as he turned into your neighborhood. It might’ve sounded casual—if not for the fact that you’d had your hands all over each other less than ten minutes earlier. If not for the way his come was still warm between your thighs.

You didn’t respond. Just gave a tight-lipped nod, even though Joel hadn’t looked at you since he merged back onto the highway, not even to check for oncoming traffic when it was time to pull off it. He didn’t say anything else until the truck rolled to a stop in the middle of the street—parked between your dad’s house and his, the engine ticking in the quiet.

“That was—” he started, then broke off, scrubbing a hand over his face with a ragged sigh. “We shouldn’t have… Sorry. That was—”

You cut in before he could unravel it further. “It’s fine. Really.” Then, with a strained chuckle: “You never had a one-night stand before?”

He finally looked at you. Briefly. He’d had his fair share. Wanted this thing between you two to be just that—just two people getting their fix and moving on.

He nodded slowly. Hit unlock on the door.

“Right,” he said. “See you around, kid.”

Kid.

Not darlin', like in the truck when his voice sank as low as his hands on your body. Not your name. Just kid. 

The moniker hit hard. Lodged behind your ribs painfully. You smiled halfheartedly like it was fine—just like you’d told him. Like you hadn’t been waiting, stupidly, for something. A look. A word. Anything that hinted at him knowing this wasn’t as simple as a one night stand.

But he just watched you go, shoulders tense, hands still on the wheel like they had nowhere else to be—no apology. No wait. No darlin’.

The morning after, Dina called. Too early, too chipper considering her state when she left The Rusty Antler—wanting to know every messy detail.

“So, you fucked him, right? Please tell me you fucked him,” she probed down the line.

You lied to her. Maybe for the first time in your whole friendship. Said Joel just dropped you off. That nothing happened.

“He’s my dad’s best friend,” you reiterated. “That would be…weird.”

She bought it. Or let you have it, at least. And still, through everything else—through final bridesmaid dress fittings, venue walkthroughs, and seating chart hell—you’ve been spiraling quietly, secretly. 

You’ve tried to shove it down. But your body still remembers, more than you’d like. Your thoughts keep circling back to him without permission at the most inconvenient of moments—at the checkout at the grocery store, when you’re sitting down for breakfast with your dad, while you’re showering. When you see the bruises on your thigh when he hooked you around him as he pummelled into you. The marks are fading now, from dark purple fingerprints to yellow smudges you keep hidden under jeans or sports leggings. You can’t help but relive the rasp of his voice, the look on his face when you came apart in his hands. The guilt and wonder that warred behind his eyes like you were something he never should’ve toyed with.

Maybe that’s why you haven’t seen him since. No appearance for Sunday football. No midweek drop-ins for an after-work beer. Just…nothing. You’d half expected your father to be suspicious—he and Joel are each other’s lifelines, even more so since Sarah headed off to college—but he didn’t seem phased. Passed it off as Joel being busy with construction jobs or seeing Tess. The latter made your gut churn.

***

Joel’s been keeping to himself.

Outside of work—which, as the director of a contracting business, keeps his days full enough—he doesn’t usually do much but hang out with your dad, drink a couple beers, shoot the shit. But now he’s avoiding that routine like it’s laced with tripwires. Avoiding your dad’s calls, replying only by text. Busy this week. Catch you soon. Which isn’t a total lie. Work’s been steady, there’s a leaky pipe in the basement he’s been meaning to fix. But mostly, he’s been doing everything he can to stay out of sight, to keep temptation at arm’s length.

He’s been heating up microwave dinners he barely tastes. Spoke on the phone with his younger brother Tommy longer than he usually would, pretending the catch-up wasn’t just a way to fill the silence. One night he even rearranged the den furniture, despite the fact he almost never goes in there—always prefers the kitchen counter for his paperwork, within reach of the fridge and the back door light.

He tells himself it’s temporary. Just until Dina’s wedding is over. Just until you pack up and head back to Charlotte. Then he can go back to being your dad’s best friend, the guy who’s always around, always reliable. Not the guy who had you spread out in his truck with your panties shoved halfway down your thighs. He keeps hearing your voice telling him that you don’t care.

Want you.Your legs bracketing his hips. Your breath in his ear. And God help him—he wants more. Which is exactly why he’s staying away.

He almost gets away with it, too. But then your dad calls again. A longer ring this time. Joel lets it go to voicemail, but the message that pings through a minute later hits harder than it should.

Hey, jackass. Don’t wanna hang out with me anymore? You find yourself a new best buddy or somethin’? 

The message is left with a chuckle, but Joel knows him too well. There’s a note of something else underneath. Hurt, maybe. Confusion. That unspoken what did I do wrong?.

Joel swears under his breath. Guilt rises like bile, up his chest, stings at the back of his throat.

So he gives in. Which is why he’s standing at your dad’s front door—your front door—on a Friday night, two six-packs in one hand, sweat prickling at the back of his neck even though there’s a crisp breeze rifling through the fallen leaves along the street.

His heart thunders. Rakes a hand through his hair, trying to steel himself. This isn’t just dinner. Not really.

Not when all he can think about is how you looked half-naked in his truck, tits illuminated by sporadic cracks of lightning.

Not when all he wants to see if that fire’s still burning.

Not when he’s terrified that it is.

Joel pitches a hand up and raps his knuckles on the sage green wood, sucking in a shaky breath. You’re probably not even in. Probably out with your friends. Maybe back at The Rusty Antler. Or perhaps holed up at Dina’s while you help out with final wedding preparations.

But then the door swings open—and you’re standing there. Barefoot, hair tied up in a messy knot, wearing an oversized Volunteers t-shirt and black leggings. He hates that he thinks you look just as good entirely covered up as you did with your skirt around your waist and your tank pulled down.

You freeze when you see him. Thought it was the delivery driver bringing over the Thai food your dad had ordered. Joel shifts his weight, muttering a hey while holding up the six-packs like they’re peace offering. 

You almost laugh. Yeah, alcohol would be good right about now.

“Your dad—he invited me for dinner.”

“Right,” you say, blinking. “I just... I didn’t think—”

“Since when do you knock?” your dad interrupts, voice teasing as he appears behind you. Then, to you: “You gonna stand there and let all the heat out, or you gonna let the man in?”

You step aside, shrinking away from the threshold to give Joel the room to enter. His large frame fills out the doorway, broad shoulders nearly brushing the frame as he passes you, almost sheepish. He's in his Carhartt jacket again. The one he loaned to you that night outside the bar. The one you left in the footwell of his truck. The sight of it has your body wracking with a shiver, one your dad catches as he takes the beers from Joel, sliding two bottles out for the pair of them.

"You cold, sweetheart?"

You shake your head and hold your hand out to him. "Nope, all good. Let me put those in the fridge." Anything to put some space between you and Joel—let your nervous system calm down after the shock of his arrival. You can't seem to shake him though, feeling his gaze hot through the material of your t-shirt while him and your dad trail you to the kitchen, his boots heavy against the floorboards.

"So, where the hell have you been?" your dad wants to know as the three of you walk into the open-plan living area—a renovation Joel and your dad had carried out a few years back.

Joel gives a noncommittal grunt, scratches as his beard. “Like I said, busy week. Spent half the week waitin’ on drywall that never showed, and the other half explainin’ to a twenty-year-old apprentice why you don’t use a nail gun like a damn paintbrush. Y’know it is.”

He sounds normal—too normal—and it grates. The easy rhythm of his voice, the way he jokes with your dad. It’s infuriating, even though you’re doing the exact same thing—plastering on a smile, acting like nothing happened. But the more effortless he makes it seem, the more it needles under your skin. Because if he can brush it off that easily, what does that say about you? That you’re festering in the details—replaying every sound, every touch—while he probably went home, took a shower, and let the night rinse off him without a second thought. Didn’t even look back as it all sluiced down the drain.

You stay quiet as you slide the packs of Bud into the fridge, trying to keep your face neutral. When you turn back, your brow furrows at the number of settings your dad’s placed on the table.

“Four bowls?” You cock your head. “I know you’re getting older but you’re still a few years short of going senile.”

“Ha-a. You think you’re so clever,” he replies, reaching over to pinch the back of your neck like he used to when you were ten. “No, we’ve got another one joining us.”

You narrow your eyes. “You invite yourself a date over?”

“Not a date for me—a date for Joel.”

That stopped everything cold.

“What?” you and Joel say at the same time.

Your dad grins, oblivious, takes a sip of his drink. “I invited Tess. Figured it was time she came by for a proper family dinner.”

You blink, hard, like maybe you misheard him. “Tess?” you repeat. “As in Tess Tess?”

Your dad nods like it’s nothing. You run your tongue along the inside of your lower lip.

Tess. A proper family dinner. 

That didn’t sound casual. That sounded like a step. A step well on the way to relationship territory.

Your stomach flips. Was that all you’d been? Something Joel needed to get out of his system before going all in with Tess? Maybe it was never about you at all. Maybe it was just because you were there.

Was he lying when he said it wasn’t serious? Was he lying when he kissed you like that?

The doorbell echoes through the house and you feel Joel’s eyes on you as your dad ambles towards the front door, whistling like he didn’t just drop a bomb. When you dare to glance his way, his mouth is parted like he wants to say something. To object. To explain.

But you shake your head, once—firm. Don’t.

Then you’re turning your back, focusing on the fridge as if it’s the most interesting thing in the house. A breath shudders out of you just as the front door swings open and Tess’s voice floats in as she tells your dad she intercepted the delivery driver at the letterbox. Her voice is bright, familiar. Like she belongs here.

And so, you steel your spine and paste on a smile that feels like splinters.

***

Dinner is…dinner.

Your dad and Tess hold up most of the conversation: chit-chatting about work—Tess owned the florist beside the local grocer—rehashing some rumour that was doing the rounds among the neighbours. You add your two cents when necessary—try not to roll your eyes when your dad compliments Tess’s blouse and she tells him she chose it because green’s Joel’s favourite colour—but mainly stick to sipping your drink and picking at your food. Joel isn’t much better. He gives the occasional grunt or dry one-liner. Sometimes he goes all in with a chuckle that doesn’t quite sink into the lines at the corners of his eyes.

Tess, in all honesty, is perfectly lovely. You haven’t spent much time with her outside the occasional neighbourhood barbecue over the years, but she’s easygoing, certainly not hard to get along with. The kind of woman who laughs with her whole chest and doesn’t take herself too seriously. You can see why your dad likes her for Joel. Why Joel might like her for Joel.

She fills the silence naturally, poking fun at Joel’s quietness with a nudge of her elbow. “This one,” Tess grins, eyes sparkly as she peers up at him. “Man of few words. So very Joel.” 

You observe quietly as she leans in a little too close when she laughs, and rests her hand on Joel’s forearm whenever she made a point. You notice that Joel doesn’t respond, not really. No touches returned. No lingering looks to match her’s.

But then again, that was just Joel. A little rigid. Not touchy-feely. Except for—

“So, anyone special back in Charlotte?” Tess is asking you now, smiling over her wine glass.

You blink, caught off guard. “I just got out of a relationship, actually.”

“Oh,” she says, her voice soft with sympathy. She means it, too. “Well, I’m sure you’ll be back on the horse in no time. Gorgeous thing like you. Right, Joel?”

Joel looks up from his empty plate like he wasn’t listening. “Hm, what’s that?”

Tess lets out a small laugh, rolling her eyes with endearment before nudging her chin towards you. “I’m just saying she won’t have any trouble dating again.”

Joel’s eyes flick to yours for the first time since you all sat down. The glance licks fire at the base of your belly. He shifts in his seat, scratches his thick fingers behind his ear. “Oh, right. Yeah.”

And you take that as your cure.

You slide your chair back with a soft scrape on the timber floors. “I think I’m going to head up to my room. Lie down. Headache’s starting to kick in.

“That’s not good,” Tess says. “You know what I swear by? Peppermint oil, right at the base of your neck. Should clear it right up!”

You nod, already moving away from the table. “Yeah, I’ll, uh… give it a try.”

As if I just have peppermint oil just laying about, you think as you walk out of the room, but you stop under the archway that leads to the stairs when Tess trills, light and airy, “See you tomorrow!”

You turn back to face your guests. “What’s tomorrow?”

“The barbeque, sweetheart,” your dad clarifies. “Remember? Like old times. Sarah’s even coming down from UT to see you.”

Shit.

You’d totally forgotten. Your dad had mentioned it when you first got in from Charlotte, but with everything going on—with Joel—it had completely slipped your mind.

Your stomach twists. One look at Joel, eyes now back on his plate, and you know it’s going to be one fucking long weekend.

***

The dinner at your dad’s hung over Joel’s head like a bad hangover—pressing, hard to shake. Not to mention, it made him feel a little sick—you sitting across from him with a tight smile. Tess, beside him, chatting like she knew him better than she did, filling in the silences he was more than comfortable sharing with just your dad. The air between you both felt like a live wire as soon  as Tess was drawn into the situation, and he hadn’t known what the hell to say.

He still didn’t.

Now, he pulls his front door closed with a soft click and steps out onto the porch, ready—well, not ready, but willing—to head across the street. Afternoon sun illuminates his face, a warm welcome among the crisp fall air. Wind chimes clink lazily in the distance, oak leaves swirl by on a breeze that carries the smoke already curling from your dad’s backyard grill. It was a perfect October day for a barbecue.

He trudges down his front steps, six-pack swinging in one hand, the other shoved deep in the pocket of his Carhartt. 

It’s gonna be fine, he repeats to himself like a mantra, as if churning it over will somehow make it true. 

Then came the “Hey, Joel!” Tess. “Good timing.”

She’s walking up from the end of the block, a grin breaking across her face so fiercely her eyes devolve into slits. Joel hesitates for half a second, then nods with a smile a fraction of the size of her’s.

“I brought dessert,” she says cheerfully, holding up a paper bag adorned with the logo of a local bakery. “You boys always have the meat sorted but never anything to satisfy a sweet tooth.”

“Great,” Joel mumbles, then stiffens, when Tess loops her arm through his like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His heart lurches when he realises what this looks like.

Something. 

He felt a cold prickle at the base of his neck as he and Tess crossed the street, her wound around his bicep like it was nothing out of the ordinary. He wanted to pull away when he approached your dad’s side gate. Didn’t know how without offending Tess.

Shit. What if you saw? Hopefully you were inside. Hopefully you didn’t see. But gate’s rusted hinge screeched loud and sharp like it always did, announcing their arrival like a fucking parade float to the already bustling party.

Joel winced.

You were already outside, standing near the cooler, mid-laugh with Sarah who’d headed over about an hour earlier. Your head snapped around at the noise, but you didn’t feel like you had whiplash until your eyes locked straight on Joel, then Tess, hanging off him like an accessory.

Your smile faded, and Joel felt the loss of it like a blow to the chest. He dropped Tess’s arm as casually as he could manage, stepping a few feet ahead like that might somehow make it clear that they’re not together. Didn’t matter though. Not when you’d turned back to Sarah a bit too quickly, telling her something that’s swallowed by the music pumping through your dad’s old stereo setup. Then you’re off, crossing the yard to the house, green sundress swaying at your thighs, hair catching in the breeze that was nearing on being too chilly for you to be in such an outfit.

Joel’s gaze locks on you, on the dress that has no business clinging to you like that. Soft cotton stretches across your back, dipping low enough to show off the fading tan line from a summer bikini, the bow of it cinched tight at your waist, accentuating your curves. Every step you take has the hem flicking higher over the back of your thighs, just enough to make his mouth dry. And those legs—Christ. They’d been locked around his hips just over a week ago.

Fucking hell, he thinks, shaking his head like that might unlodge the image from his head. It doesn’t. Not even close. Which might be why he’s suddenly possessed to go after you, before the sense seeps back into his bones.

“Joel,” Tess calls before he’s stepped too far away, drifting over from where she’d been greeting some friends to press the bakery bag into his chest. “Can you pop this in the fridge? Don’t want the cream to melt.”

He misses the sickly smile she tosses up at him when he mutters back a distracted yeah, eyes still locked on the screen door you’d just slipped through. Then, bag in hand, heart somewhere near his throat, he followed you like gravity made the rules.

You’re in the kitchen, back to the party with your hands pitched against the lip of the farm-style sink, telling yourself to get your shit together after the sight of Joel and Tess walking into your yard like a long-term couple drained the colour out of your face. Sarah didn’t notice your sudden change in demeanour, thankfully, too engrossed in a story about a messy love triangle that’s unfolding on the floor of her dorm. Behind you, the screen door shuddered quietly before the floorboards groaned under the weight of someone—him—the static of his presence like a current riding just under your skin.

“Bit cool out for a dress like that, don’t you think?”

You don’t turn around, but Joel can see your shoulders wrack with a huff. “Bit out of your jurisdiction, telling me what I should or shouldn’t be wearing, don’t you think?” You pause, then: “Y’know… especially since you’re here with your girlfriend.”

“Tess ain’t my girlfriend.”

“That’s not what it looks like.” “I know what it looks like. I’m telling you it’s not that.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you mutter, yanking the fridge door open with more force than it’s made for, the seal breaking with a loud hiss. Bottles rattle on the shelves from the impact, a carton of juice sloshing from left to right.

Joel exhales, the sound harsh, tired—partially frustration at you, part at himself. Because your bratiness, your sharp tongue and narrowed eyes, have a way of stirring something up in him that makes his pulse gallop just that little bit faster. Makes him feel wired and restless in a way he hasn’t felt in a long fucking time.

So he bites. “You always get this pissed off after a one night stand?”

You freeze, knuckles whitening around the necks of two beers—one for you, one for Sarah. One night stand. He throws it back at you like a weapon. It stings. Maybe because you’d said it first when you were trying to play it cool. Now it just feels like a slap.

You straighten, shut the drudge with your hip and finally come to face Joel with your chin tipped high. “Nope. But I usually don’t have to sit across from my one night stands at the dinner table with their—” your eyes slice to Tess in the backyard, laughing with your dad while he flips burgers on the grill, “—whatever-you-want-to-call-her, and play happy families.”

Joel crosses the room until you’re both standing behind the kitchen counter, his voice low, urgent, when he tells you, “I didn’t know she was gonna be there. I swear.”

“Yeah, well.” You stare up at him, already feeling a little weak at the knees when the haze of his cologne hits you. “You sure know how to pick your surprises.”

His eyes dip slow, shamelessly, taking in the swell of your breasts where they rise over the fitted cups of your sundress. He doesn’t even try to disguise it. Just looks, jaw fluttering faintly under his scruff of facial hair before reaching past you for the bottle opener. Joel takes the two beers from your hands and pops them open with an effortless flick. Slides one of them onto the counter and takes a long pull from the other like you’d got it out for him.

You don’t say anything, just watch as he licks a drop of Bud from his bottom lip, leaning a hip against the counter, gaze sweeping lazily over you again.

“”S a nice dress, though,” he tells you, voice low. “I like the colour.”

You’d like to say it wasn’t intentional, that it was just the first thing you’d grabbed out of your wardrobe and thrown on, but it wouldn’t be the truth. You’d sat on your bed that morning in a towel, freshly-washed hair dropping onto your shoulders, starting at your open wardrobe. The doors were ajar, only just, enough to see the familiar chaos of reds and blacks, a hint of soft blue. But no green. Nothing in Joel’s favourite colour. Your stomach coiled. Out of nowhere came this pathetic, sharp urge to donate everything you owned. Burn it all down and start again. Build your closet back up in nothing but shades of moss and sage and pine. 

It was stupid. You knew it was stupid, but the memory had surfaced anyway—Tess at the dinner table, laughing, casually mentioning how she’d started wearing more green because it was his favourite. 

And now here you were, doing the same damn thing. Or wanting to. You never felt like that with Jesse. Never once thought about buying out the denim aisle to appease him, to drown yourself in blue to match him like some second skin.

You look down at your dress, the one you’d yanked out of donation bags that sat in your dad’s spare room, the garment just a smidge too tight on you compared to when you last wore it, probably back in high school.

I like the colour, Joel had said.

I know you do, you think—at least, you think you think it—but the words form aloud. The space between Joel’s eyebrows pinch and a shadow of a smile is gone before he reaches its full potential. The silence in the room sucks the walls inward, so instead of a kitchen, it feels like the pair of you have been shoved into a cardboard box. You watch as he drains the beer until there’s barely two mouthfuls left, throat working in quick swallows like whatever he’s about to do next needs a lick of liquid courage, his other hand hooking a thumb through the loop on his jeans. He takes one last swig, the weight of his arm tugging the faded blue waist down a notch so it exposes the waistband of his grey underwear.

Your quiet confession was like silk and barbed wire all at once. He shouldn’t want this. Not here, not like this, not ever, really. But fuck, if the idea didn’t sink its teeth in: you choosing that dress. That fit. That neckline. All of it with him in mind. It lights a slow burn in his chest that works its way lower, heat pooling behind his belt.

The muscles in Joel’s arm flex like an elastic band as he twists to put the empty bottle next to the sink, and your eyes train all the way up his neck to where the tendons pinch there, too.

“Did you wear that dress for me?” His tone dips with the question, thick with something you can’t quite put your finger on.

Your response rouses as a scoff at the back of your throat—yeah right—but it comes out as a strangled sort of whine, giving away that whatever excuse it was preceding would’ve been a blatant lie. “Get over yourself,” you tell him anyway, shoving back towards the fridge to grab a beer to replace the one he’d stolen from you. Joel follows suit to retrieve another, too, rivers of condensation running down its sides. He doesn’t move to clean the droplets that plummet to the floor. The galley in your dad’s kitchen isn’t that wide, so you and Joel are just about flush against each other when he turns back to face you. He doesn’t attempt to dissect your response to his question, just lilts the hem of your sundress with the bottom of his bottle.

A sharp breath shoots past your lips when it hits the inside of your thigh, the path of skin beside your knee igniting despite the bottle’s icy exterior.

“Don’t react. People are watching,” he tells you, eyes catching something over your shoulder. The kitchen counter is high enough to hide anything below the waist, so anyone looking on from the backyard would just see Joel and you in what would appear to be a casual conversation.

The idea that this is casual splits your nerves.

“When I ask you something, I want a simple answer.” He’s slow. Precise. The kind of voice that leaves no room for argument. “Yes or no, got it?”

You nod, your attention stuck on the rivulet of condensation tracking a glistening line down your calf. The room is suffocating, all the walls pressing inward under the weight of his stare.

Joel doesn’t let your silence slide. He lifts the cold bottle just a fraction, pressing it higher on your thigh, and the jolt of sensation is instant—your hips flinch, back hitting the edge of the counter as the bottle skims closer to heat. His voice slices through the static buzzing in your head.

“Yes or no?” It’s not a question anymore. It’s a command.

“I…Yes.” The word breaks out after several aching beats. And like a switch flipped, the tension in his shoulders unwinds. You watch the muscles above his collarbones loosen, the sharp edge of his jaw unclench.

“Good girl.”

The praise slams into you, pumps your chest with something dangerously close to pride, and you’re filled with the urge to please him, succumb to him, whatever him, so long as he’s this close.

Good girl.

His good girl.

A sudden laugh explodes from outside, a burst of normalcy that cuts through the fog. The reminder that you’re mere feet from the gathering—your dad, Tess, Sarah—has you instinctively pulling back, but Joel’s hand is already there, his fingers locking firm around your friend, calloused and warm and unyielding.

“I said,” he growls, voice molten and ragged, “Don’t. Move.”

The barrel of his bottle lands again—harder this time on your opposite thigh with a wet clink. Your legs almost betray you at the shock of the cold glass, but it’s the suggestion of what could come next that undoes you. The backyard fades into background noise again, muffled like you’re submerged underwater. Your heart pounds frantically, the only thing anchoring you now is Joel’s body on yours.

His stare on you like a weight, and the sear of his hand where he holds you.

“I’m going to ask you again,” he says, more frayed this time. “Did you wear this dress for me?” 

You both know you did. It’d be easy to admit. But the way his pupils have swallowed the colour from his eyes—wide, dark, hungry—tells you you’ve got him. And you’re not giving that up so easily.

A smirk threatens to crack across your face but you wrangle it down before telling Joel: “Not everything I put on is for your benefit, you know.” The sass has his dick kicking against his thigh, and you catch the flare of his nostrils just before he takes your wrist and guides your hand down, pressing your palm to the heat straining behind his zipper. “That benefit, you mean?”

Your breathing stutters and you swallow thickly at the weight of him, the barely-restrained hardness, how he feels hot and solid and real beneath your fingers. A flush shoots through you, fast and unrelenting, before Joel peels your hand away. The loss of him under your palm feels like a punishment, but for Joel, it’s his only line of defense against blowing his load in his pants like some touch-starved teenager. 

A light sweat pricks at your heaving chest and you cast your sight down, inviting Joel to follow. If he does, you don’t notice, because the beat blocking his next movement is almost non-existent as he jerks his beer upwards so it’s pressing against your centre, the thin material of your panties the only thing keeping your last shed of control in.

You both know how wrong this is—family feet away, a house full of noise—but neither of you moves to stop it. The thrill is the point. The push and pull, the control, the loss of it.

Joel dips close, his mouth nearly brushing your cheek. And then, he whispers his trump card, soft and lethal.

“Darlin’. Come on, you can tell me. You wore this dress just for me, hm?”

You press your tongue to the inside of your cheek. Each second that ticks by without a response earns you a fresh surge of pressure between your thighs. The icy bottle finally catches the swollen nub of your clit. You buck your hips forward, chasing the feeling. If Joel were to peel your dress up now, you’re certain he wouldn’t be able to tell where the condensation ended and your arousal began. Your breaths are jagged, fingers curling tight against the edge of the counter to keep you from melting into a heap at his feet. The kitchen stretches quiet and thick with tension as your gazes remained locked, challenging each other.

He wants submission.

You offer defiance. 

And he gets off on it.

Joel nudges the bottle up again, insistent. Daring. You dig your heels in, refusing to let up. Until—

“God, I was wondering where you went,” Sarah says from behind you, her voice slicing the moment in half. Joel yanks the bottle back so fast it tinkers against the counter, backing away from you like he’s been shot. Annoyance at Sarah’s interruption flares through you for a brief moment, then it’s chased by shame as you avoid looking at her out of fear that you have your dad just hand his hands up my dress written on your forehead in red ink.

She snags the original beer off the counter and sucks down a sip. 

You and Joel don’t speak. Just exchange a tight glance. Relief. Guilt. Something worse.

“Shit, this stuff’s good,” Sarah says with a dramatic lip smack, none the wiser.

A beat passes. Two.

Then she glances at her father with a raised brow. “Hey, what’s going on with you and Tess, anyway? Are you like… together now?”

The words hit you square in the gut. You blink, the haze of heat and touch and Joel’s voice still echoing inside you—Darlin’. But it fades fast. Like a splash of cold water, Sarah’s question brings it all back. The way Tess had walked in with her arm looped through Joel’s. The way she’d touched him like she had every right. Laughed at things only a couple could laugh about. The way you’d let yourself forget. You grind your teeth together.

What the hell are you doing? He’s not yours. And you’re not some girl who loses her sense over a little touching and a good girl. You’re smarter than this. You’ve got better boundaries than this. Or at least, you used to. Now, all you feel is a hot flush of shame—not just at Joel, but at yourself. 

For giving him the power. For liking how it felt.

You reach for your own beer with a forced smile and take a long, bracing sip. Joel still hasn’t answered his daughter’s question, so she looks to you, like you have some sort of in on the situation.

“No idea,” you tell her, voice clipped. “Not my business.”

But it is. It was. It shouldn’t be.

***

The fire pit crackles in the dark, casting long shadows across the yard, flames snapping at the logs like hungry mouths. Joel sits in a camping chair, one ankle hooked over his knee, a half-finished beer in hand. Tommy had rocked up a little while ago and dropped into the seat beside him, laughing about something Joel didn’t entirely hear. His thoughts kept drifting.

You.

He hasn’t looked your way since the kitchen. Not properly. Not when Sarah reappeared beside you, not when everyone lined up to serve themselves up for dinner, not even now, when you’re stretched out on a blanket across the yard, head tilted back as you talk quietly with his daughter. Joel’s still half-hard in his jeans. Still feels like a fucking idiot. 

“Someone forgot to put these in the fridge,” Tess’s voice chimes from behind him before appearing at his side, holding up the bakery bag he’d completely forgotten on the kitchen counter earlier.

Joel stands automatically, rubs the back of his neck. “Shit. Sorry, Tess.”

“You’re lucky you’re so handsome,” she jokes, nudging his arm lightly, but Joel doesn’t laugh. He stiffens instead, setting his beer in the mesh cup holder in his chair. “Hey,” he says quietly, jerking his chin towards the edge of the yard. “Mind if we talk for a sec?”

Tess studies him, something flashes behind her eyes. Then she nods. “Sure.” 

His hands are in his pockets, shoulders set tight by the time they’re standing by the oak tree by the fence. “Look, I ain’t good at this kinda thing,” he tells her. “So, I’ll just say it plain.”

Tess waits, arms crossed. Her brow’s already lifted when Joel tells her, “I think we’re better off as friends.”

You clock it all from across the yard. Joel and Tess are locked in a quiet conversation, voices swallowed by the rest of the noise rousing from the party. Tess isn’t touching him, for a change. She’s touched him in some way every moment she’s been near him tonight. A hand on his arm. A shoulder pressed too close. A whisper with a hand curling around his elbow.

Not that you’d been paying that keen attention. No.

Now Tess is still. Arms folded. Her posture shifts slightly before she lets out an awkward laugh, the kind people use to save face. She reaches out, pulls Joel into a hug. It’s brief. Polite, measured, and when she pulls back, Joel doesn’t follow. You watch him track her retreating figure back into the throng of guests, to where she sits down gingerly to join a conversation with Tommy’s wife, Maria, and a couple of other neighbours. Meanwhile, Joel is unmoving under that tree, like its roots have grown right over his feet, keeping him stuck in the shadows beside the tyre swing.

Then his eyes find you. 

Half-lit by the flicker of the fire. Blanket pulled over your legs. Your face giving nothing away while you watch him suck in a deep breath. There’s a slight tilt of his head, the damn furrow in his brow that he gets when he’s working something out. You expect him to look away. But he doesn’t.

For the first time all night, Joel doesn’t look away. And neither do you, until your dad shouts your name from where he’s sat beside Tommy, hand pitched in the air to grab your attention.

“Mind getting some more wood for the fire, sweetheart?” he asks. “We’re gettin’ a little low over ‘ere.”

You throw him a thumbs up back, message received. You flip the blanket off your lap and head around the side of the house, firelight fading behind you.

The shed waits at the back fence line, its grey tin frame pretty much black in the shadows. You make your way down the gravel path, cold nipping at where your bare skin meets the air. 

Fucking stupid outfit for this weather, you decide, chastising yourself.

You’re reaching for the she’d latch when you hear the slow crunch of boots behind you. You don’t turn. Don’t need to.

“Fuck off, Joel.”

There’s a pause. Then his voice, that same rough rasp that somehow always manages to find the softest part of your spine. “Just seein’ if you need a hand.”

“Don’t need anything from you.”

You yank the shed door open and pull the dangling chain connected to the old bulb that flickers then hums to life, casting everything in a jaundiced yellow. You step inside and crouch by the woodpile, blowing a sheet of cobwebs off it. Joel lingers in the doorway, one shoulder leaned into the frame. The night breathes between you as you reach for a small shaft of timber at the top of the pile. 

“Told Tess we’re better off as friends,” he says. It makes you pause, even though you’d gauged as much from the awkward interaction you’d witnessed just minutes ago. 

“Congratulations,” you mutter, grabbing at the log harder than necessary. A sharp sting punches into your forefinger. You his through your teeth and yank your hand back, sucking at the blood already welling around a splinter lodged into the supple skin there.

Joel is on you in two strides.

“Let me see.”

“No.

“Darlin’—”

“I said I’m fine.”

But then his hand wraps around your wrist in a maddingly gentle way, the heat from his palm warm, sure. You try to shake free from his grip but it’s a half-hearted attempt that Joel clocks, but doesn’t make a deal of. “Just gimme a look.” There’s less grit in his voice now. More gravity, and you don’t fight it again.

Joel steps into the shed fully now, easing the door half-closed behind him, shutting out the party, the noise. It’s just you two now, with the hum of the lightbulb and the thud of your heart trilling at your ribcage. He brings your hand up under the light, turning your finger delicately between his own as he inspects the wound. Then—without warning—he brings it to his lips. Your lungs blaze somewhere high in your chest.

Joel’s mouth parts around your fingertip, warm, wet, and he sucks. It’s methodical. Deliberate. A few pulls of his lips and the splinter unlodges from your finger, tongue brushing your skin with a softness that doesn’t match the hungry way he looks at you.

You’re frozen. Breaths shallow. Joel picks the miniscule shard of timber off his tongue, which then darts out to flick the taste of your blood from his lips, eyes steady on yours. He hasn’t let go of your hand. Not yet. Just allow his thumb to drag slowly over the pad of your finger for a moment until he says, just as gravelly as the stones stuck in the tread of his boots: “You gotta do a favour for me now.” You cock your head, suspicious. “Yeah?”

His eyes, looking more amber than brown in the dingy light, stay fixed on yours, voice thick with whatever the result is of defeat and desire combined. “Tell me you wore that dress for me.”

You let his words hang there, let him stew, before your defiant side claws up in a soft whisper. “And what if I did?”

“Then, darlin’—” he shakes his head, jaw flexing in that incredulous way. “Then I’m fucked.” He steps in closer, crowding your space like he had back in the kitchen, your bodies nearly touching. The shed should feel cold, but the air is hot and heavy around you. “You’re drivin’ me outta my damn mind,” Joel mutters. His fingers graze your hip now, fingers trilling the tie at your waist. “Can’t stop thinkin’ about you. Hate how much I want you. It—it feels sick, needin’ you like this. Can’t shake it.”

The confession slops out like it’s been waiting in his throat for days. You don’t even have the time to answer before his mouth is on yours, starved while he pulls you to him like he’s afraid you’ll vanish. The shed door groans on its hinges as Joel reaches back and slams it shut behind him, muting the party completely. You taste blood—yours, from the splinter—and beer, cold and bitter on his tongue, and it makes your knees give out.

Joel doesn’t let you fall.

His hands are everywhere—palming your hips, sliding between your thighs, pawing at your tits—and in one clean, hungry movement, he lifts you up. Your legs wind around his waist like a habit as he carries you to the other side of the shed, never breaking the kiss. Joel sets you down on your dad’s workbench with a thud, and guides himself between your thighs as they hang off the edge. His large hands splay across the tops of your legs as he pulls back just enough to drink you in, pupils blown wide, lips red and raw, the makeup under your nose scrubbed clean off thanks to his facial hair.

“Say it,” he rasps, chest heaving. “Tell me you wore that dress for me.” You nod before the words even form, of course I did, slipping out on a sigh. It’s barely a whisper, barely a confession. But it’s all Joel needs to start kissing you again, rougher now, deeper. One hand buries in your hair, the other grips your thigh where it’s hooked around his waist, fingers digging in like his grounding himself in the feel of you.

“Christ,” he moans into your mouth. “Knew it. Knew it the second I saw you.” Your head tips back as he licks down your throat, beard scraping against the sensitive skin just right, just enough to make you whimper. The bench creaks under your weight, shifting with every movement. 

“Joel,” you breathe, hands tangling in his dusty waves as he trails brandishing kisses to your breasts, yanking the cups of your dress down. Free in the air, your nipples draw to impossibly hard peaks, flushed and aching to be taken into Joel’s mouth. Like he can read your mind, he licks at one, then the other, tongue working in circles over the pebbled flesh. His fingers pay attention to whatever one he’s not suckling at, twisting and tugging at them like it’s his expertise. And with the way a strangled moan yanks from your throat, it just might be.

Your fingers tighten in his hair, hips rolling forward for more friction. Joel hums in approval, the buzz of his lips on your breast zipping under your skin there. His mouth trails lower, kissing over the thin material of your dress on your stomach, hands swiping up your thighs to push the fabric of the skirt to your hips as he sinks to his knees in front of you like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Your breath catches as his fingers hook into your white panties—lace with a floral pattern—dragging them away from your centre achingly slow. His dark eyes stay locked to yours the entire time like he’s daring you to look away. You don’t.

And then his gaze dips, a growl wracking his body when he finally sees you bare. “Jesus Christ.”

You’re already so wet, slick and aching, residual arousal lingering from the encounter in the kitchen. Your thighs instinctively spread for Joel, allowing him to lean in and press a kiss just above your clit. Then another, lower. His breath is hot. You twitch under it, again when his tongue parts you, slowly, sinful. You press a palm into the benchtop, steading yourself while a strangled moan escapes you. “Fuck.” Joel licks into you with a flat tongue and rapid pace, groaning deep when your thighs clamp around his head. He’s quick to correct that though, gripping your knees without losing tempo, shoving them wide so your calves dangle over his shoulders, your sneakers leaving damp dirt on the back of his jacket. He continues working you open with his mouth, broad strokes turning precise as he zeroes in on your clit. You writhe on the bench, every nerve ending alight, skin flushed, jaw slack.

“Tase so fuckin’ good,” Joel groans into your cunt. “So sweet. Could stay right here all night.

You believe him, and God help you, you want him to.

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, eyes squeezing shut as you try to keep quiet—but then Joel sucks your clit into his mouth and the cry that leaves you in anything but subtle. 

He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even pause, just grins against you and keeps going while sliding a thick finger into your hot, aching center. The stretch makes you jolt, eyes rolling as he curls it just right—then another joins it, pumping in tandem with the slow, deliberate strokes of his tongue over your clit.

“Oh, God,” you whine, holding Joel’s head to you as his tongue drags messy patterns over your swollen bundle of nerves. Very swipe, every thrust, every graze of his scruff against your inner thighs sends sparks licking up your spine. Your breath comes in broken gasps, the heat curling tighter and tighter. Joel pulls back for just a second, lips glistening, to drink in the sight of you—chest heaving, tits bouncing slightly with each sharp pump of his hand, back arched, head tipped back in abandon. But when he doesn’t return his mouth to you right away, you blink down at him all wide-eyed and wrecked, a painful ache in your voice as you grit, “Joel—please—I’m gonna come.”

Your thighs quake around his shoulders while he stares at you a beat longer, eyes burning with hunger and something just shy of worship. “Yeah?” he murmurs, thumb brushing featherlight over your clit. “Then give it to me, darlin’. Show me how much you wanna come on my tongue.”

And just like that, he dives back in with feverish speed, trilling over your clit relentlessly, fingers pulsing deep into your cunt in perfect rhythm—again, again—until you shatter into a million pieces, pleasure crashing through you as you yelp Joel’s name, the sound bouncing off the tin walls of the shed while you come hard against his mouth. Your body trembles uncontrollably, but Joel doesn’t let up, just keeps working at you until the aftershocks roll through you like thunder and your hand pushes lazily through his hair with something between desperation and praise.

Eventually, Joel pushes up from the dusty floor, his middle-aged knees screaming in protest, but he doesn’t care—not when his mouth is still wet with you. The glow of the low-hanging bulb glints off the slick coating his lips and chin. He doesn’t wipe it away. Just leans in and kisses you, your taste between your tongues making you mean into his mouth. Hips shifting like they’re already searching for him again.

You suck in a shaky inhale. You don’t know how long you’ve been gone from the party. Minutes? Longer? The crackle of fire feels a hundred miles away now. You pray it’s still burning, that your dad hasn’t sent Sarah or anyone else to find you. That no one’s wandered down the side of the house, curious or looking to help. There’s a pang in your chest where heat blooms.

The thought of being caught tangled up with Joel Miller should terrify you. But it doesn’t. The idea sends a fresh, dangerous thrill through your body. 

He’s all you can think about. All you can feel.

His hands find your waist, grip tight enough to bruise. Fuck, you hope it does.

“That wasn’t enough,” he rasps against your lips. His buckle rattles as he wrestles with it between your bodies. “Need more. Need to fill your hot cunt with my cock again. Been thinkin’ about it every damn day. How tight you are. How good you take me.” 

You’re still trying to breathe properly when he hooks his arm around you and lifts you down from the bench like you weigh nothing at all. You hardly have time to find your balance before he turns you, palms heavy at your hips. Then your back. One hand anchors itself at the nape of your neck, folding you down until your bare chest meets the cold, splintered surface of the workbench. You gasp at the sudden change in temperature, in texture—soft skin against worn wood. Blink as your eyes fall in line with scattered tools. A screwdriver. A roll of duct tape. Cracked plastic box of nails. All of it blurs as Joel steps in behind you, and your body flexes to meet him. Rising on your tiptoes, arching, pressing yourself back, desperate and unthinking.

Joel groans low in his chest, the sound almost feral as he watches the bare bulbs of your ass keen towards him. With his jeans and underwear shoved down to his knees, his veiny cock stands flat against his stomach, rock hard and begging to sink inside you. He skims one hand over your ass and down to your thigh, hitching it higher so you slot against him just right while the other hand drags his weeping head through your folds. And you—body flushed, mouth open against the bench, can’t find words anymore. Just want. Just him.

“I know, baby,” he mutters when his tip meets your entrance, already pulsating, trying to grip onto him, onto anything to chase what you’re needing. “Don’t know if I can go slow this time,” he says, hoarse, near your ear. “Need t’ feel you. That okay?”

You nod frantically, offering a choked sound that barely resembles anything but Joel understands. Takes it for what it is: permission.

He hands slaps against your ass once, the sharp sting left in its place already forgotten when Joel pushes into you with such force that your knees nearly buckle. You gasp, half a sob, reaching your arms backwards to anchor yourself at his thighs. But he quickly gathers your hands in one of his own and holds them there at the base of your back, locking you there. The rhythm he sets is punishing and relentless—like he’s making up for every second he couldn’t have you. The shed trembles around you. At least, it feels like it does, the world narrowing to the scrape of wood, the faint swing of a chain overhead, the shudder of breath between you and—

Shouting. Your dad. Distant, but approaching. Joel stills for only a beat, working fast to reach up and yank the light’s chain. The bulb flickers out, plunging you both into darkness.

“Be quiet f’me,” Joel breathes, barely audible even though his lips brush the shell of your ear. You nod again, frozen in place. He doesn’t pull out, try and shove his cock back into his pants. No, he doesn’t even slow, just shifts his grip to your waist, his pace so deep, so steady. All you can hear now is the thud of your heartbeat and the near-silent rasp of Joel’s breath on your cheek.

Your dad’s voice rings out again, closer this time, Gravel crunches under boots on the other side of the tin wall. You bristle. So does Joel. But you still clench around him, unable to help it. 

A quiet laugh puffs against your skin. “My filthy girl,” he whispers, affection and wickedness blurring together in his words. “You like the risk, don’t you? Like the idea of bein’ caught.” Your eyes roll back, mouth slack with a soundless plea. 

Footsteps pause just outside the shed. You brace for the rattle of the door. For the blinding flood of light and the horror of being caught with his best friend buried deep inside you. But the moment never comes. You hear him mutter something you don’t catch under his breath before the sound of retreating steps. Back down the gravel. Back towards the fire pit.

You’re not sure why he doesn’t open the shed. Why he doesn’t grab the firewood he’d asked for. Maybe he forgot. Maybe he got distracted. But you don’t let yourself question it too much. You’re just thankful. Grateful for the silence. For the reprieve. And Joel, his body pressed against yours, his breath at your neck, takes that silence and fills it with the slap of skin on skin. Continues hammering into you, worshipping you with every motion, like he couldn’t stop now if he tried. 

Your hands are back bracing against the bench, palms damp with sweat when Joel leans forward, clothed chest warm at your back when he tells you he’s getting close. “You gonna come with me, darlin’?”

You nod, helpless, leaning into the pressure curling tight inside your belly. Every movement he makes coils it tighter. You gasp his name again, and Joel moans like it wrecks him. Like his name on your tongue undoes him the most. Legs shaking, you’re right there on the edge. The sound of Joel’s breath, the feel of his hands, his body completely too much and not enough at once.

“Almost there, baby,” he whispers, teeth nipping at your skin. “Just give it to me. Let go.”

And you do. The orgasm tears through you in waves, silent at first before a sharp gasp as your body tightens around him. Joel follows, groaning one long low sound, surrendering as he falls apart with you. Hips stuttering, arms wrapped around your waist as he buries himself to the hilt at stills.

For a long moment, there’s only breathing. Your own, sharp and uneven. His, rasping against your skin. Joel’s the first to move. He presses a line of slow, reverent kisses down your spine, gently pulling out with his hands holding your hips steady. Wordlessly, he tugs the light back on and you turn to face him, taking in the lax look on his face, the way sweat gleans in the aging divots of his face. You watch him while he repositions your dress on your torso with care, smoothing the fabric down over your legs. It’s more tender than you were expecting, especially when you consider the cold and distant aftermath when you’d finished up that time in his truck. You’re still catching your breath when Joel bends to retrieve the small scrap of fabric that had been discarded earlier. 

Your panties.

He holds them up between two fingers, eyes glimmer in the low light as he meets your gaze.

“Here,” you say, reaching for them, but Joel just shakes his head. Smirks.

“Nah. These are mine now.”

“Is that right?” “Mmhmm,” he hums. Tucks them into his back pocket. “Means you’ll have to come find me if you want ‘em back.”

You shake your head with a snort as you smooth down your hair. “You’re such an asshole.”

Joel grins, grabs your hand before you can push past him, presses a soft kiss to your knuckles like he’s sealing some kind of deal. “Yeah, but I guess that makes me your asshole, right?”

The words hang there—teasing, sweet if you squint—but his eyes are serious when they meet yours. They dance with a promise. A question. A start.

And this time, he doesn’t turn away.

***

a/n: okayyyy so i'm sweatinggggg after writing this one!! it's the last planned part for this fic, but I'm not opposed to jumping in at a later date with a drabble or two for this duo. as always, let me know what you think!!!!!!

taglist: @hotmess-x @callmeknife @leesromanova @brinapedroswife @joelmillersgffff @lilasskicker2 @yslgreen @akah565

[softsunnyy]

angst to fluff?? idk i just love Luke too much

before he left home, everything was bad. You'd argued over something stupid, something that wasn't even that important. But you broke your promise.

years ago, you and Luke promised that no matter how serious an argument was, you would try to work it out or calm things down a bit before bed or before either of you had to leave the house. You made him promise when you started having obsessive, anxious thoughts, when you worried excessively that the last thing you said to each other would be something bad.

you're better now, but that tradition remains, and always, always, even if you had to take a second in different rooms, you would come back afterward to talk things over.

but this time was different, he went to morning skate without saying goodbye, while you went to your aunt's house so you could take care of your little cousin. And you won't be able to watch the game in person; you'd have to watch it on tv. That makes you feel even more guilty.

the pit in your stomach just grows when you see that the game isn't going as it should. They have to win it, you know that, you know what this game means to everyone. To Luke. But you start running your hands through your hair in frustration as the score keeps getting worse, and what was once only 3-2, is now something much bigger, much more problematic.

and every time they focus on Luke, a pout forms on your lips. You want to hug him, you want to apologize and hold him tight so you can hold the parts that are currently breaking.

you see him banging his stick, his expression of disgust, of stress. You see his desperation, the way he tries to cooperate and help his team, but everything seems against him.

you feel like throwing up when you see the score at 6-2, and you can't even play with your cousin, or pay the same attention to her as you did 30 minutes ago. You can only stare at the tv, distracted, feeling this defeat as if you were part of the team, as if you were there.

and you wanna cry when another goal goes in the net. You want to turn off the game, change the channel, because every time they focus on Luke it feels like a stab, like you're being punished, blamed for all of this. And that makes you feel selfish, like an idiot.

you ignore Jack's texts, your friends' texts. You stop listening to the little girl who talks your ears off, narrating about a doll party, trying to get you to listen.

and when the game is over, your aunt goes back to her house, and you immediately go to yours, trying to get there before them. Trying to be there, even if it's just so he sees you're still there, because you know he's going to need it. Even if you don't talk. Even if he's still mad at you. You know he needs to know you're still there, even if he fails, even if things go wrong, even if someone tries to question him.

you try to clean the house as quickly as possible, lighting some candles on the coffee table, turning on the tv, and putting on one of those silly movies you've both watched a thousand times. You try to make the place feel comforting, even if you don't know how his reaction will be.

anxiety begins to consume you, and when the door opens, you hold your breath. Jack enters first, nodding slightly in greeting before heading to his room. Luke? oh, your sweet boy drops his things when he sees you. And he sighs, as if he's releasing a weight from his shoulders.

although he doesn't run to you, he does come closer, and you get up from the couch to make the task easier for him.

he hugs you tightly, wanting to merge with your body, like only there he can be protected. And his shoulders lose tension, his face hides in your neck, and you can barely move because you're so close. But you wouldn't change a thing; you just hug his neck, playing with the ends of his curls.

the silence isn't awkward or tense; it's relaxing, it's safe. Because even though there are things you need to talk about, right now you're healing together, you're recovering the parts of Luke that had been broken in that game today and you're putting them back together like always.

“come here,” you say softly, gently taking his hands, guiding him to the couch before you hear his answer. And he doesn't refuse either, shuffling his feet, watching you lie down, and lying on top of you, his head resting on your chest and his arms clinging to your body once more.

the movie continues playing in the background, at a low volume. The candles make the place smell good, sweet enough to be pleasant, but not enough to make his head hurt.

your body transmits warmth to him, and he unconsciously snuggles closer.

one of your hands strokes his back, and the other plays with his curls. You know it relaxes him, that it makes him feel sleepy. You know it makes your big boy feel light, protected, comfortable, and safe in your arms.

usually, it's always Luke who makes you feel this way, using his size and warmth to make you feel good in his arms, like nothing can hurt you. But it's these moments that really hit different.

he doesn't even need to cry, to release all his feelings like that. It's like he's recharging, like you're giving him the motivation to keep going, to breathe, to walk, to move, to exist.

for Luke, this is what matters most, this is what nothing in the world could replace: You.

you not only know how to make him happy, but you also know how to take care of him, how to be patient with him, how to make him feel at home. And while many will say it's something that's formed over the years, with how much you've known each other, he'll always debate it, because he's always felt that way around you. Ever since you were 11 and had to do that work in pairs, and he didn't know how to exist around you. From that moment on, you've taken the initiative and made him feel good.

a happy sigh escapes his mouth, his eyes closed, his face a little more relaxed. You know he's still frustrated about the game, and about what happened before, but you're not going to force him to talk, you just let him rest, take his time.

after a while, the movie was almost over, the smaller candles almost completely burned out, the light in the living room dimmer, making your body feel the weight of the day, making everything a little quieter, calmer. The speed of the first hours of the day dying. The city isn't as noisy as it had been a few hours ago. The home is warm, with no room for the cold.

"i'm sorry," you heard him say, in a very low tone that you almost didn't hear. You were about to answer, but he spoke again. This time he raised his head slightly, opening his eyes heavily so he could look at you. "I left, i broke my word, i shouldn't have done that," he apologized, looking into your eyes, letting you see the vulnerability and honesty in them.

your chest tightens, and you hug him tighter, his eyes closing once more.

“it´s okay, Lu. Just let’s not do that again. I didn’t like it.” He nodded, completely agreeing, making you feel calmer, knowing that you both agree, knowing that this had been a problem for him too.

and you'll have time to talk about it later, but right now you can only look at his face. His lips, where there's usually a silly and pretty smile, now have a small pout. His eyes, full of life and enjoyment, are now closed, resting from the weight of the day. His curls, usually messy, are now messier than ever, making him look fluffier. His brows are no longer furrowed, but relaxed. His jaw is no longer clenched. His chest moves with each breath, and the rhythm of his breathing begins to relax you, to make you feel sleepy.

as the last candles begin to burn out, your eyes begin to battle with sleep. It's then that Lu, whom you thought was asleep, says one last thing.

"i love you."

"i love you too, Lu."

and a small smile forms on both of your faces. Knowing that even with the complications of everyday life, you'll always come home and be able to work things out together, both of you against the world, both of you against every obstacle.

it'll always be you two.

[snowysosturn]

Speeding Car - Matt Sturniolo

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Finale

Pairing : y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary : After six years with your boyfriend Alex, you start to mentally check out. At a UCLA party, Alex reconnects with his childhood friend Emily, who proposes a double date with her boyfriend Matt. Your attraction to Matt grows as he pays you the first real attention you've had in years, sparking a complicated emotional journey.

Warnings : MDNI, drinking, angst

A/n: This is my first ever piece of writing so please go easy on me. Since it is my first time writing and it is a series please be patient with me! I do intend of posting parts frequently, but I am also going on a 2 week holiday this weekend so i’ll try my best <3

‘Y/n are you nearly ready?’ My boyfriend shouted from the bathroom.

‘Almost’ I replied, shoving one of my gold hoops in my left earlobe piercing.

We were going to an ‘End of Summer’ party on the UCLA campus. One last blow out before the new school year began. My boyfriend, Alex, was in his Junior year of school there, majoring in Economics. I decided college wasn’t for me within the first couple months of my Senior year of High School, so following Alex wherever he went and picking up a shitty retail job for the foreseeable seemed to be the most logical thing for me to do at the time.

We stepped onto the packed UCLA campus. The summer heat was still present, even as the sun dipped below the horizon. I walked hand in hand with Alex, a touch I haven’t felt in a while. It felt nice to be shown off for once. Alex and I have been together for six years, but somewhere along the way, the spark that once was so strong in our relationship had dimmed, atleast in my eyes. I had been feeling a sense of detachment, it had been growing in my chest for months. It was a weird feeling, being present and absent at the same time. Being exhausted from trying to get what I knew I deserved out of the relationship and grieving the way we were in the beginning, hanging onto the thoughts of what could’ve been.

We never went on dates, the flirting had stopped, getting a compliment was very few and far between. The only time we would spend together was watching Netflix on the couch, so being invited along to this college party tonight struck me as effort on his behalf. I had begged him for months to make more of an effort with our relationship. So tonight, I promised myself I would try. For him, and for us.

“Want a drink?” Alex asked as he turned back to me, shouting over the music.

“Yeah, a vodka lemonade please ” I replied. He nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. I stood near the door, pulling up the waistband on my high waist jeans out of awkwardness, scanning the room for a familiar face but recognizing no one.

As I took in my surroundings, my eyes caught a girl with dark brown hair, who seemed to be making her way towards me. She had a wide smile that seemed oddly familiar. It made me question myself if I had ever met her before. Before I could piece it together in my head, Alex reappeared with two red solo cups, handing one to me.

“Oh my god? Alex!” the girl called, her voice slightly screeching. Alex turned, and his face dropping before lighting up with a mix of surprise and joy.

“Emily?!” he exclaimed. They embraced in an enthusiastic hug - more affection shown to a random girl in 3 seconds than I had received in 3 months. A slight hit of jealousy got me.

“I knew it was you! What are you doing here?” The girl gushed, pulling back to look at him while both wrapped in each others arms.

“Wow, it’s been what, eight years?” Alex replied. “I’m majoring in Economics, what are you doing here?”

That’s when the penny dropped. Emily was Alex’s childhood best friend. I had heard multiple, multiple, stories about her over the years. They lived next door to each other since they were 3, until Emily and her family moved to Austin when they were 14, two years before Alex and I started dating. From this point on, I knew the relationship between them was strictly platonic, more of a brother/sister type of love.

“You’ve got to be kidding me! I’ve just transferred to here from TSU, I’m majoring in Economics too!” she wept with joy. “And who’s this? Is this the girl you post sometimes on Instagram?” Emily said as she pulled her focus on to me, my eyes nearly twitching at the word sometimes.

“This is Y/n, my girlfriend, we’ve been together six years now” Alex introduced us, as I flashed a smile.

“Nice to meet you, Emily” I said warmly, extending a hand. She shook it, giving me a sweet smile. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“All good things, I hope” Emily joked, as I took a sip of my drink. It was stronger than I expected, “Definitely” I laughed while slightly wincing at the pungent wave of alcohol in my mouth. “Alex and I go way back. We were practically inseparable in elementary and middle school”

I nodded, as I knew I was about to listen to a relay of information i’ve already heard before. He had spoken of her often, his childhood best friend, lost to time and distance. Eight years apart, yet their bond seemed untouched. I watched as they fell into easy conversation, reminiscing about old times. Emily’s presence seemed to revive a part of Alex that I hadn’t seen in years. He was ecstatic, almost with a new sparkle in his eye, and his laughter seemed genuine. Although I knew they were friends it confused me how he couldn’t give this type of attention to his girlfriend.

I poured myself another drink as the two had made their way over to one of the couches in the living area so they could continue on their catch up. I sat physically on the arm of the two seater couch they were sharing. They shared memories about one of their middle school dances while I sat mentally in my own thoughts. I was really hoping tonight would rekindle a relationship of some form, not realising it wouldn’t be ours. Maybe i need to be a liiiiiittle more specific with this whole manifesting thing.

Eventually, Emily’s eyes met mine again. “Y/n, why don’t you join in, tell me one of your favourite memories with Alex!” she called out, trying to get me involved in the conversation. “I should have invited my boyfriend, Matt, he’s quite quiet like you too, you’d get on like a house on fire!” Emily exclaimed.

“Sorry the alcohol has gone to my head a bit faster than I thought it would” I said, trying to come up with a valid enough excuse to cover up why I’m not speaking.

I’m happy for Alex, I really am. I just wished this could have happened at a coffee shop or something, not when I’m trying to see if I can salvage something from our relationship.

Emily looked back to my boyfriend. “Al maybe you should get Y/n home if she’s feeling too drunk right now, we can organise a double date sometime this week to continue our catch up and we can introduce our partners to eachother!”

"That sounds like a great idea! I’ll DM you sometime tomorrow on Instagram.” Alex suggested.

I forced a nod. Somehow, pretending to be too drunk to get myself out of this situation has only landed me further into it. The idea of another couple entering our dynamic is both intriguing and daunting, maybe their relationship is like ours where it’s almost fizzled out? but what if I see they have an amazing relationship and it makes me resent mine even more.

Alex ordered us an Uber and we said our goodbyes to Emily, promising to arrange that double date soon. We weren’t walking hand in hand like we did when we entered the party. It made me feel as if there was something wrong with me. We both walked around separate sides of the Uber. I opened the door for myself and slid onto the back seat, leaning my head again the car window. Suddenly my phone lit up as I received a notification.

“Emily Johnson (@emmyjohns) has requested to follow you.”

I waited until we got home to accept the request, you know, trying to cling onto the whole too drunk to function act I had put on. Alex held my hand while walking up the stairs to our apartment, he must of fallen for my act too, since I was now getting attention again.

"Wasn't that great? I can't believe we ran into Emily" Alex says as he unlocked our front door.

“Yeah it was great to finally put a face to the name” I replied while I walk into our room to change into my PJs, leaving Alex in the kitchen.

He pours me a glass of water and sets it on my bedside locker before he gets into our bed. “Come join me” Alex whispers, gesturing at the free space beside him. “Let me brush my teeth first” I replied. If it’s one thing about me drunk, fake drunk or sober, my teeth are being brushed before I get into bed. Alex rolled his eyes at my response and by the time I finished in the bathroom he was out cold.

Shocker.

I turned off the lights in our room and slipped into bed beside him. I picked up my phone to check the time before I noticed a message on Instagram that came in 10 minutes ago.

“Hey girlie…”

a/n : sorry i’ve left a cliffhanger lol, we’ve met the idea of Matt but he’ll be fully introduced in the next chapter. I’ll post chapter 2 tomorrow bc I don’t want to leave it too long before properly introducing him.

taglist : @muwapsturniolo @anitahunt333 @sturnfannn @chrissfavhoe @jayde510

[ghostedgwen]

still the same soul | s.black

note : I was scrolling through here and found an ungodly amount of smut, that I honestly didn't feel like reading. I was craving gut-wrenching angst and pain bc no one in this fandom deserves happiness(jk lol), so I decided to write one from the ts masterlist

warnings : pure pain (I warned you), all hurt no comfort, some softness in between but just pure pain sandwich, jily mentioned, this is during the Marauders era but follows the canon timeline of the books (I think, my memory is hazy tbh), pls do not expect to be smiling at the end of this :))

One night, while the whole common room was drunk - celebrating the nearing graduation, you made a pact with Sirius. A silly little promise to marry each other if you reached your 30s and still had no one in your lives, you meet again during the second war and the promise gets brought up.

└——————— - [ 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝚃𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚘𝚛 𝚂𝚠𝚒𝚏𝚝 - Dorothea ]. +

Sirius Black has grown. Gone was the carefree young boy he was, full of youth and vigor and thirst for adventure.

Though he’s had plenty from the time spent running around the castle walls, he craved more and more and - life did not go as planned.

Reality joined the party and smacked him right across the room. He is not the same person as he was years ago, he’s gone through things that has altered him completely.

He can never be the same Sirius he once was. Just an older, bigger shell of who he used to be. Gone is the young and wild Sirius Black, too much time has passed and too many lives were lost.

.

Sirius watched the content of his goblet swish around, threatening to spill as the party went on in the background.

He feels like he’s floating, despite the growing danger and the looming threats over the Wizarding World, they have found it in themselves to celebrate.

Graduation is a day away and they’ll be saying goodbye to this chapter of their lives soon. He was getting lost in his thoughts when he felt a weight drop on the couch’s space beside him.

“What’s got you all mopey, Mr.Black?” You ask him, appearing in his vision with a bright grin.

“I’m not moping,” he rolls his eyes at you and takes a drink from his goblet. “I’m. . .thinking.”

You make a face at that. “Well that can’t be good.”

He chuckle’s sarcastically at your remark. “Sod off, aren’t you too busy chugging beer?”

You roll your eyes at him. “And aren’t you supposed to be making out with some random somewhere?”

Sirius heaves a sigh at that. “Not tonight, no.”

“Oh wow, the very night before graduation, Sirius Black decides to finally mature!" You joked, even throwing your hands up to exaggerate.

"You are insufferable," he jokingly pushes you away but you didn't budge as he didn't put any force behind it. "I'm gonna miss this, I'm gonna miss you all."

You give him a small, tight-lipped smile. "Yeah," you let out a wistful sigh. "Seven years of this, it has been my whole life and now we're just supposed to move on?"

"I'm not ready." Sirius admits, his voice and face mellow, compared to the atmosphere in the Gryffindor common room. "I'm not ready to walk away from all of this."

You nod slowly in understanding. "Not ready to grow up?"

He chuckles, shaking his head. "No. That shit is scary."

You hum in agreement. "We've no choice, Pads. The world won't wait for us while we lag behind."

A moment of silence between you two passes. It wasn't awkward, it was just. . . quiet.

"Do you. . . already know what you plan to do?" He asked hesitantly, drinking from his goblet again.

You shake your head. "Not exactly, but I have a rough idea of my future. Always been good at potions so I'll pursue that, I reckon I'll be able to make a name for myself in the Potions Making world."

He smiles, watching you talk about your future like you both had a clue. You turn to him, meeting his eyes and flashing him a soft smile.

"What about you Mr.Lover boy? Got more ladies to woo in the not-so-distant future?"

He laughs. "Hopefully," his laughter died down alongside yours and a serious expression settled to replace it. "I have no clue what I want to do."

You understand. This isn't any other normal graduation. Once you go out there, you are exposed to the dangers that lurk outside. The world outside the castle walls aren't as forgiving, there are no redos and no time-outs.

"I trust you'll be fine, no matter what happens." You assure him, tapping his hand that rested near your leg. "You're Sirius Black, you always manage to make the best out of every situation."

He smiles at your words. "Oh really? Make me a promise then."

You arch your brow at that. "What promise?"

"30 years. If we're still loveless and unmarried by 30, let's just end up together."

You laugh loudly at that. "Of all the words to use, 'loveless' and 'unmarried'?"

He nods despite both your laughters mixing. "I'm serious - don't even make the pun right now, I am being serious. You're my best friend - right after James - and you know me better than I know myself."

"And you know me better than I know myself." You interjected with a goofy grin which he curtly nodded at.

"If all that time has passed, so much has happened and we still found ourselves available - let's just get together, what do you think?"

You shake your head, still laughing. "You are a right tosser, Sirius Black. But I'll humor you," you offer him your pinky finger with a knowing glint in your eyes. "If after everything you still haven't managed to commit, I'll marry you."

He wraps his own finger around yours, sealing both your fates. "This is a proper promise, you can't break this."

You laugh with a nod. "We are so gonna regret this someday."

He shrugs with a carefree grin. "Maybe, or maybe we won't. We'll see. In the wise words of Dumbledore : The future awaits!"

.

It has been years since you've seen Sirius, since you've seen any former classmate, really. The Wizarding World is in shambles, chaos ensued and people are dropping dead like flies.

A group of purist committing acts of terrorism, lead by one man. You sometimes wish you cherished your Hogwarts days more, gone are the days you spent it running down the halls with the Marauders, laughter echoing through the halls.

Gone are the days spent sneaking off at night to set up pranks in the Slytherin dormitory.

You are no longer that little girl that bounced in your steps boldly displaying the colors of red and gold. Now, you are adult out in the real world fighting for your life every single day to survive.

Fear is almost eating everyone alive as the darkness loom over everything and everyone.

To make it worse, you just received the worst news of your life that both Lily and James Potter, died - leaving their 1 year old baby behind.

.

"I really don't want to, Professor. Please, you have to understand, this isn't safe - " your words were interrupted when you heard a young boy's voice speak up from behind you.

"Professor Dumbledore, you called for me?"

You turned around on instinct, and you regretted it right away. Looking down at the little boy, you see a familiar set of bright green eyes behind round glasses.

You felt your heart drop to your stomach at the sight of him. Your two best friends, in one person. Lily's bright and lovely green eyes with James' unruly tousled black hair - they even had the same specs.

It felt like the world has shifted and you almost dropped to your knees at the sight of him.

"____, this is Harry. Harry, this is ____, an old friend of your parents. I was just discussing something with her."

Harry eyes you curiously, those green eyes looking right through you and it felt like a million stabs to the chest. Your best friend, your beautiful Lily Evans has been gone for years and you never thought you'll get to see her again until you see her very same eyes peering up at you again.

He looks exactly like James did. It's like being taken back in time and seeing an old friend in the very flesh. Oh, how long gone is your youth and there is no taking it all back.

"Harry. . ." you say his name hesitantly.

You have only ever traced that name on parchment. In Lily's handwriting, as she excitedly wrote about her newborn with James, you didn't even get to meet him like Lily wanted.

She wanted to show you her adorable baby who took after his father. Now here he is, all grown.

"I- " you stop yourself from running up to hug him, turning back to Dumbledore. "Please think it over, Professor. I'll keep in touch."

You turn away, beginning to walk off when you spot Harry watching you leave in your peripheral. You give him a small smile, "It was nice meeting you, Harry."

.

You could almost laugh, reading the letter you had deciphered. With everything going on, even owls could get intercepted so you always wrote back-and-forth with the Headmaster in codes.

After deciphering this one, you felt the loudest cackle escape you. You hadn't been able to laugh for years but alas, something worth laughing about finally came about.

You trace his name on the parchment, savoruing the moment. You'll read the rest of the content later, for now you are focusing on what matters most - the worlds written in magical ink -

Sirius Black is back in the order, he is innocent and he is free from Azkaban.

.

You've never really been to the Black residence, 12 Grimmauld Place. The place itself looks creepy and knowing what went on in those halls - you can only imagine how depressing the vibes are.

Swallowing down your hesitance, you knocked. Following the instructions provided by Dumbledore was fairly easy but the actual knowing and getting to meet the person in there was not.

You swallow the giant forming lump in your throat as you anticipated the door swinging open and there he stood - years have passed and he's grown unfamiliar but you could tell it's him.

"____?"

You didn't waste any time, running up to hug him, your arms tight around his frail frame as he returned it. Lifting you a good inches off the ground as his laughter echoed through the otherwise depressing halls of his ancestral home.

"Sirius!" You happily called out, burying your face into his neck. "You bloody wanker, you actually escaped Azkaban!"

You pulled away slightly to spot Harry in the back, watching you two and you felt a tug at your heart at the sight of him. For a moment, you saw his figure overlap with James'.

You turn back to Sirius who put you down and stepped back to scan your whole frame. "____, you've been well, I assume."

You grin. "Well enough with everything going on."

You observe his face. A sad smile creeping from your lips. "You look different, old friend."

He nods at that, his smile mirroring yours. "How long has it been?"

"I did not bother to keep counting." You shake your head. "I missed you."

"I missed you too."

.

The sweet reunion didn't last long as war raged on, more lives were lost and it was rocky navigating the new course of your life. Your parents were both dead and you never got romantically involved with anyone, so you had no strings attached to you.

You just knew that you were going into battle and you might not come out alive.

You began living with Sirius and Harry as per Sirius' request. He insisted it was safer that way and you couldn't resist.

Harry is awkward around you and didn't know how to talk to you, not when you always looked at him with misty eyes. He couldn't approach you properly.

You also couldn't bring yourself to happily embrace him with everything going on. He is the key to all of this, the boy who lived. And you were just another person fighting for him in this war, you did not wanna risk giving him a connection in the case you become another number to the death toll - the poor boy has been through enough.

"I know what you're doing." Sirius interrupts your thoughts, settling in the space beside you on the couch. The scene seems familiar.

"What do you mean?" You ask him, cradling your mug of warm tea in both hands.

"You're allowed to embrace him, you know. He needs all the support he can get. Now more than ever."

You shake your head. "You know I can't."

"Why not?"

"His parents died when he was a baby, he's lived abused under his aunt's roof and has spent a majority of his entire life being at war - in fact, he was born into it," you allow the tears to drop. "That poor boy has not known peace, he doesn't deserve more pain."

Sirius scoffs at your words. "You think your death won't hurt him if you stay a few good feet away? That kid has a heart bigger than all of ours combined, it's how he has managed to survive for so long."

You keep quiet.

"He needs you, he needs all of us."

You shake your head. "I can't. I can't look at him," you allow Sirius to take the mug off your hands and guide your body to lean on him. Your tears begin to stain his shirt. "Every time I look at him, I just see them and - it's too much, Pads."

He shushes you softly, running his fingers through your hair. "I know, gorgeous, it hurts me too. He is everything they could have been."

"I miss them so much and it hurts my heart knowing I had so much time with them but he didn't. It's not fair."

Sirius nods in understanding.

An hour passed of you just sobbing into his arms as you talked about the past and how everything has changed, not a single trace remained.

War is unforgiving and it does not spare, you lost everything to it. It continues on, the flames keep burning and you are not sure what else you could possibly lose to it other than yourself.

.

"Hey, do you remember that promise we made to each other the night before graduation?" You asked Sirius, as you both were gearing up.

He turns to you, grinning. "That we'll marry once we reach this age and are still pathetically loveless and unmarried?"

You nod with a chuckle, "That one."

"What about it?"

You roll your eyes. "Oh don't act coy. We are well in our mid 30s and very much unmarried, keep your end of the deal, Mr.Lover boy."

He laughs, though a soft look in his eyes remained. How you missed peering into those grey pair that always reflected your image softly.

"I'll get down on my knees properly once this whole war is over."

You laugh. "That's a promise. You better keep it!"

He gives you a nod. "You know I never break promises. Not to you, at least."

You didn't get to enjoy the moment when all of a sudden, you were all called - Harry is in danger and he's at the Department of Mysteries with a bunch of his classmates.

.

You should have known. A world of har has no happy endings, it ends - maybe, but no one is truly happy in the end of it all. War takes and takes and takes and takes, until there is nothing left to take.

You thought you had lost everything there is to lose, until you also lost him too.

For the first time, you did not hold back. You held Harry in your arms as his sobs wrecked your entire body. Your own tears are disregarded as you held his shaking frame in your arms alongside Remus.

He's gone. Sirius Black is gone.

And gone with him is the promise he made, the only promise he ever broke.

the end. masterlist

[zyart-jpg]

A/N: HAHAHA im sorry yeah ive been neglecting my man these days huh :( HERE'S A FULL-ON FIC FOR HIM JUST FOR YOU ANON! (sorry if it's long, angst is my forte LMAO) This is heavily based on Jungkook's Seven MV, btw! I listened to the song so much while writing it that my head hurt.

"Show you what devotion is, deeper than the ocean is"

Pairing: Wooin Yoo x Reader

Summary: No, you're not breaking up with him! Nuh-uh!

Tags: Toxic RS, Break-up, Angsty but he's still a little shit lmao, good ending<3

He’s not a good guy. Never claimed to be.

Sure, he lets you in—on the bad days, the loud ones, the ones where he can't drown out the voices in his head. You’ve held him when he broke, watched him come undone in the safety of your arms like that was the only place he allowed himself to fall apart.

But he’s no hero. Not even close. He’s a walking contradiction: impulsive, selfish, stitched together by late nights and poor decisions. He’ll kiss you like salvation and leave like a storm. Whatever softness he offers is fleeting—just a crack in the armor before he slips back into chaos.

And the worst part?

He knows. He’s always known. He’s never tried to be more than what he is. You just hoped he’d try anyway.

So when you finally ended things, you thought—naively—that he'd let you go. Maybe not with grace, but with a sliver of respect. You figured he’d take the hint, admit you were both dragging something dead behind you for too long.

But you couldn’t have been more wrong.

He didn’t go quietly.

He looked at you like you shot him in the chest mid-dinner—chopsticks frozen, mouth parted, eyes wild. He argued like breakups were business deals—said it wasn’t real unless both parties signed off. Refused to leave your apartment like the couch had visitation rights, and when you finally shoved him out the door, he just started showing up somewhere else.

Everywhere else.

First, it was your workplace—loitering outside like a delinquent, ordering overpriced coffee just to sit there for hours, watching. Waiting. Sometimes he’d follow you after your shift, cycling beside you like a stray dog with a pink bike and too many apologies. Talking, begging, annoying—never asking, just assuming you’d give in.

Then came the “accidental” run-ins—where morning jogs turned into awkward races. Where he’d flash that crooked smile, talk shit while trying to keep up, still trying to turn cardio into a second chance.

Even the nail salon wasn’t safe. You walked in and there he was, already mid-manicure—black polish, smug grin, fingers fluttering in your face like he just won something. You stormed out before the base coat could dry.

Your friends wanna hangout to keep him off your mind? Didn’t matter. He always found you. Always slipped in like he belonged there, arm around your waist, lips brushing your ear, whispering the same damn line like it was a song stuck on loop.

“I miss you. Please. Take me back.”

And every time you walked away—quiet, steady, not even sparing him a look—you made sure to take everything with you. The warmth, the touch, the unspoken promises. You peeled his hands off like they burned, left without giving him the satisfaction of a reaction. Not a glance. Not a word. Nothing he could mistake for hope.

It’s not that you stopped loving him. That was never the problem.

The problem was how loving him always felt like too much—and never enough.

Too much in the way you were always on edge, constantly worried about what he was doing, where he was, what kind of trouble he was dragging himself into this time. Too little because for all the nights spent wrapped around each other, for all the whispered secrets and broken pieces laid bare—you still barely knew who he really was.

He’d get angry when you were. Clingier when you pulled away. It was always extreme with him—never steady, never safe. Push and pull. Fire and frost. A rhythm that felt more like whiplash than love.

Toxic, really.

Even if your heart didn’t want to call it that.

And yet, despite everything—despite the silence, the distance, the mess you swore you wouldn’t walk back into—some small, stupid part of you still sparks whenever he shows up. That reckless part that remembers the way he used to lean against his car, smirking like he knew you’d be looking.

Maybe that’s why your eyes drift without thinking as soon as your shift ends—sweeping the street for that obnoxiously loud Mustang. The one with the slick black paint and yellow hood that looked like it belonged in a movie chase scene, always parked like it owned the space. He used to sit on the hood like it was a throne, legs crossed at the ankle, pretending not to care while watching you with that unreadable grin.

You don’t mean to search for it. It just happens. Muscle memory. Like an echo of him still clings to your daily routine.

But he’s not there today.

No revving engine. No dumb yellow sunglasses pushing into his hair. No last-minute attempts to convince you that he still means something.

Just traffic and strangers and the fading hum of the city folding in on itself.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and tug your jacket tighter around you, heading toward the bus stop. The air smells like wet pavement, and the drizzle picks up again—gentle but persistent, soaking into your sleeves and making everything feel just a little heavier.

By the time you board the bus, the windows are already fogging up. You settle into your usual seat by the window, forehead against the cool glass as raindrops begin their slow race down.

And for a moment—just one—you almost wish he was out there.

You’re half-grateful for the buzz in your pocket—a small jolt that yanks you out of the spiral before it swallows you whole. With a sigh, you fish out your phone, thumb already swiping before your brain catches up. Just another notification, you assume. Maybe a meme.

But then you see it; Plain. Simple. Ominous.

Joker — 6:04 PM

Your stupid boyfriend’s in the ER. He wants you to come.

You freeze.

The words don’t register at first—just sit there, heavy and unreal, like they belong to someone else’s life. But then your breath stutters, heart lurching sideways in your chest.

You don’t remember getting off the bus.

One second, you’re sitting by the window, the next you’re pushing past people, stumbling into the cold with nothing but adrenaline guiding your limbs. The rain’s heavier now—slick, relentless, blurring lights and faces as you shove your way to the curb. You don't even think. You just move.

A cab appears like it was summoned by panic. You barely remember speaking, barely feel your fingers dragging soaked hair out of your eyes as the city rushes by in streaks of wet neon.

Your brain’s a mess of static. His name. The ER. The tone of that damn message. You can’t breathe right, can’t sit still. Every red light feels like punishment. Every second, a countdown.

By the time you reach the hospital, you’re drenched—clothes sticking, teeth chattering, breath coming short and sharp. You don't remember paying. Don’t remember walking in. Just the sterile smell of antiseptic hitting you like a wall and the cold, awful weight of not knowing.

And then—you’re running. Or maybe drifting. Maybe both.

All you know is: he’s here.

And suddenly, that’s all that matters.

You practically crashed through the double doors of the emergency wing, soaked to the bone, shoes squeaking with every frantic step on the linoleum. The nurse barely finished pointing you down the hall before you were already sprinting, heart hammering so loud it drowned out everything else.

"Wooin?" you called, voice breaking mid-syllable, eyes scanning every open curtain, every figure in a hospital gown—desperate for a glimpse of him, for something, anything to tell you he was okay.

Your pulse was in your throat. You couldn't breathe right. Images flashed through your mind faster than you could control—ambulance lights, blood on pavement, his body limp and broken. You didn’t even feel the cold anymore. Only the rising dread that maybe you’d been too late.

But then—

“Oh,” a familiar voice drawled, annoyingly casual, “you came?”

And there he was.

Not bleeding out. Not unconscious. No doctors hovering, no beeping machines hooked to his chest.

Just him, leaned back against a hospital bed like it was a damn couch, one leg propped up, scrolling through his phone with all the urgency of someone waiting for their Uber Eats. 

A neon red lollipop dangled between his lips, and when he saw your face—your completely wrecked, rain-slicked, breathless face—he had the audacity to grin.

“Was starting to think you wouldn't.”

Your panic—your bone-deep, full-body panic—collapsed into pure, white-hot fury.

"You lied to me," you snapped, voice cracking under the weight of everything you'd just been through. "You said ER. I thought—God, I thought you were dying, Wooin!"

He blinked, as if that was the dramatic part of this whole thing. "I am in the ER," he said, pulling the lollipop from his mouth and gesturing vaguely to a small, barely-there cut on his forehead. It was already cleaned and bandaged like an afterthought. “Look. Blood and everything.”

You just stood there, trembling and soaked, fists clenched at your sides.

All that panic. All that sprinting. The cab. The rain. The ache in your chest. And for what?

A cut and a lollipop?

“Are you actually insane?” you hissed, storming closer. “Do you have any idea what I just went through thinking you were—were hurt? Like really hurt?”

He looked at you, smile faltering just slightly. “I am hurt,” he mumbled, like a child getting scolded. “Emotionally.”

You gaped at him. "Emotionally?"

“You haven’t answered me in days.”

You stared, jaw clenched so tight it hurt. The nurses nearby were trying not to stare, but you couldn’t even care at this point.

“You dragged me halfway across the city, soaking wet, convinced me you were dying—because what? You wanted attention? Is that it, Wooin?”

He opened his mouth, then wisely closed it again.

You shook your head, blinking back a furious mix of tears and rain. “You’re unbelievable.”

And with that, you turned on your heel, soaked and shaking, your wet footsteps echoing sharply through the sterile hall.

Behind you, Wooin groaned dramatically. “C’mon,” he called after you, completely unfazed by the attention he was drawing. “Don’t be mad. It was a little romantic, right?”

You didn’t stop.

He jogged to catch up, sneakers squeaking on the polished floor as he reached for your shoulder. His fingers brushed against the damp fabric of your coat, turning you around.

“I’m so—”

“You always do this!” you snapped, voice slicing through the hallway. You slapped his hand away like it burned, blinking through the angry blur in your eyes. “Always making me worry. Always pulling some stupid stunt because you think it’s funny or dramatic or—whatever!”

He froze, eyes wide as you stepped into his space, jabbing your finger hard into his chest with every word.

“This—this is why I wanted out! This exact bullshit you always pull on me. You don’t take anything seriously—not me, not this, not your life. And I keep pretending it’s okay, I keep giving you the benefit of the doubt like maybe, maybe, you’d grow the hell up—"

Your voice cracked before you could stop it.

“—but I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep loving someone who treats my heart like it’s just another game to win.”

Wooin didn’t say anything right away. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t smile, didn’t make a joke. He just stood there, rain dripping from the tips of your hair onto the tile between you, eyes on yours like he was really, finally seeing you.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. Not performative. Not flippant. Just raw.

You didn’t move.

“I didn’t... I didn’t know what else to do,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, eyes dropping to the floor. “I knew you wouldn’t come if I just asked. So I panicked. I did something stupid. Again.”

You scoffed bitterly, turning to leave again, but he stepped in front of you.

“No, wait—listen. Please.”

His voice cracked—not loud, not dramatic. Just quiet. Real. The kind of raw that didn’t ask for attention, only understanding.

“I don’t…” he exhaled, dragging a hand through his wet hair, eyes darting like he was looking for the right words and hating that he couldn’t find them fast enough. “I don’t know how to do this. The real kind of love. The kind where someone stays. I’ve never had that. Not once.”

You stayed still, breathing sharp, heart heavy.

“I didn’t grow up around… this,” he continued, vague but heavy. “The talking. The fixing. The staying, even when it’s hard. That stuff always felt strange.”

His voice was unsteady now. Less defensive. Less layered with sarcasm.

“So I guess I kept bracing for it to end. Kept screwing it up before someone else could. Like maybe if I was the one to ruin it, it wouldn’t hurt as bad.”

He looked at you fully this time—no walls, no smirk. Just Wooin, stripped of all his usual armor.

“But you didn’t leave,” he said, voice quiet. “You stayed. You cared. You kept showing up, even when I didn’t know what to do with that kind of love.”

You blinked hard, trying to will away the sting in your eyes, but he wasn’t done.

“I know I’ve hurt you,” he said. “I know I make things harder than they have to be. I keep screwing it up—pulling you close just to push you away again. But that’s not because I don’t care. It’s because I care so damn much it terrifies me.”

His voice dropped into a whisper.

“I love you.”

He let it hang there—bare, trembling in the air between you.

“I don’t know how to do this right. I never learned how. But if you just… show me, even a little—I swear I’ll try. I’ll learn. I’ll unlearn everything that taught me this chaos.”

You didn’t say anything. Couldn’t. The weight of him—the sincerity, the fear, the desperate hope—held you in place.

“I don’t want anyone else,” he said. “Just you. Always you. So if there’s any part of you that still believes in me… please. Let me try again. Let me love you right this time.”

No lollipop. No grin.

Just Wooin—messy, vulnerable, standing in a puddle of his own mistakes, finally opening the part of himself he always kept locked tight.

And for once… he wasn’t running.

You stood there, breath uneven, your soaked clothes clinging to your skin, the hallway suddenly too quiet for how loud your heart was beating.

You should’ve walked away. God, you wanted to.

But your feet didn’t move.

Because the thing was—you still love him. Through every fight, every bad decision, every desperate apology. Through the chaos, through the confusion, through the nights you spent staring at the ceiling, wondering why your heart refused to let go.

And maybe… maybe this time, it wasn’t about him changing overnight. Maybe it wasn’t about forgiveness or promises or fixing every broken thing in one perfect gesture.

Maybe it was just about the part of you that still wanted him. That still hoped—against your better judgment, against your own tired heart—that there was something here worth holding onto.

You blinked slowly, a single tear sliding down your cheek, catching on the corner of your mouth. His eyes tracked it, shoulders tensing like he’d take the weight of it if he could.

You stepped forward—just a little.

“I’m only doing this once,” you whispered, voice thick. “And not for you. For me.”

His breath caught.

“Because I still love you,” you said, quieter now. “And I don’t know what that says about me, but I do.”

Wooin’s lips parted, but you held up a hand.

“I’m not saying this fixes anything. I’m not saying it’ll work. But if you’re really willing to try—then I’ll try, too. One more time.”

A pause.

"Don't make me regret it."

And just like that, the air between you shifted—still heavy, still uncertain, but no longer running.

He didn’t touch you, not yet. Just nodded, eyes wide, chest rising like he couldn’t believe he was allowed to breathe again.

“I won’t,” he said. “I swear. I won’t waste it.”

And then, finally, like gravity snapped back into place—you stepped into him. Letting your head rest against his shoulder, letting your fists finally uncurl against his chest.

Letting yourself have this—for tonight. For now.

Even if it still hurts.

Even if the future was foggy.

MASTERLIST

[jjkarmy091]

Know too much- Jungkook

Genre: Romance; angst; slow burn; friends2lovers; Warnings: strong language; mentions of death; mention of r*pe; eventual smut Wordcount: 15k Ps- English is not my first language so I'm sorry for any mistakes! I always try my best! Not proofread

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This gonna be divided in two part because it has gotten too long

You always loved the idea of love: the romance, the effort, the cumplicity: everything related to it- but one thing it never occured you was the jealousy you'd feel.

You finished high school in 2015 and decided to take a sabbatical year where you'd do whatever you wanted: you had some part time jobs, had gone to parties your closest friends, but you got tired and wanted more so when you found out the application period for college exams was going to open you didn't hesitate. Truth is you were always a very homely person, barely leaving your house, not because your parents wouldn't let you, they kept insisting for you to go have some funa and clear your head, but you didn't like that type of enviroment. Instead, you'd rather stay home reading or watching movies than going out until it started affecting your mental health, isolating you from everything and everyone. That was the main reason why your parents told you to take a full year for you to enjoy yourself. You only had a few close friends, but the ones you had were worth 10 of them. Not to gush, but you were lucky with the people around you. When high school ended, your best friend Rosé would go out and insisted on taking you with her. That's how your story with Jungkook began.

You and him met in mid-February 2016. Rosé was talking to a guy named Tae, you'd see the pictures she usually posted on Instagram of the two of them and another guy with a rather peculiar style. In one of those pictures you saw he was all in black, with some necklaces bigger than him (almost) and very thin, however, his eyes were what caught your attention the most. Despite all the black he wore, his bambi brown eyes gave him a very sweet and innocent appearence. Rosé always insisted on you to go out with her and her new group of friends. For some reason she wanted to introduce you to them, even though you always said you had no interest in it until you were so tired of hearing her talk about the same thing over and over again, you agreed to go with her and those "so new" friends.

You and Rosé went to a well known pub in the city, being the first ones to get there, asking for two cokes with lemon and ice. Maybe fifteen minutes later you notice two guys coming in and looking around, they were both tall, one with curly light brown hair while the other had very dark hair and bambi eyes. That's when you realized it was him, the guy you had identified before, however, this time without the all-black outfit. Instead he had a plain white shirt and ripped jeans and a pair of earrings. You had to admit he was extremely handsome, thin but muscular, everyone could tell he was into exercising or had started going to the gym. The first to arrive at the table and introduce himself was Tae, a super communicative and outgoing guy, you could see how comfortable he was with people, just as Rosé. Behind him came his friend, who introduced himself as Jungkook, however, unlike Tae, he was someone more quiet and reserved, like you. Tae sat down next to Rosé after greeting you, forcing Jungkook to sit next to you.

As time passed it was palpable the chemistry between Tae and Rosé as they talked and leaned over each other, gently and discreetly caressing each other's leg, hand or shoulder. After a while they said they would go for a smoke, leaving you and Jungkook alone. It couldn't have been more awkward between you two at first. He was shy and so were you, there was simply no conversation between you other than an exchange of glances here and there. You were about to get up to meet the others outside when he spoke.

"If I were you I wouldn't go."

"Why not?"

"They're probably sucking each others tongue at this very moment." you made a disgusted face

"Whewwww gross. You think?"

"Ohh believe me I'm sure of it" He laughed and damn you for noticing how pretty his smile was. You didn't know if he had braces or veneers before but fuck - what a perfect and white smile he had- You swear if you had that kind of smile you'd never stop using it.

"I'm Y/n by the way. I didn't get the chance to properly introduce myself before"

"Nice to meet you Y/n"

You had a feeling he was gonna give you trouble

and he did

You blamed that bunny smile of his.

After that night, you and Jungkook became super friends. In fact, he ended up taking you home since Tae and Rosé left together. Along the way, you ended up talking even more and getting to know each other better: you knew he was 23 years old, had studied art and that he now worked in a graphics store while taking a tattoo artist course. You told him you were 19 and turned 20 in the summer. You also shared your intentions on going to college that same year to study education since you loved children and your biggest dream was to be a kindergarten teacher. You also ended up discovering you had a lot of things in common, you had to admit it was worth going out with your best friend that specific day because the boys were super fun and nice people to hang with and you really enjoyed interacting with them. Rosé and Tae started dating shortly after that day, so it was inevitable that you wouldn't see Jungkook more often, making him a big part of your life.

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June 2016

The week of your university exams arrived and you were very nervous, at this point you were afraid you would get there and forget even your name. On the days you had exams, Jungkook always remembered to send you a message of support and that relieved a lot of the pressure you felt. After the fourth and final exam, you finally breathed a sigh of relief, feeling like you could enjoy summer as you should.

As you were leaving school, you heard someone call your name. You looked back and saw Jungkook walking towards you, however, you realized he wasn't alone. Beside him was Maddie, a girl who had been in your class, but failed due to excessive absences and had to repeat the year again. You were happy to hear she managed to finish it, you heard some rumors about her being absent at the time because of an abortion she had. It was never confirmed or at least you never heard anything about it again. Honestly you never thought you'd see her doing the admission exams, since she didn't really like to study either. You were happy yet quite surprised to see him with her.

When you saw the two of them you tried to look away, picking up your phone as if you were replying to a text, but from the corner of your eye you saw Maddie giving a kiss on the corner of Jungkook's lips while he smiled, having his arm around her waist, with his hand resting on her ass. You don't know why, but that made your stomach twist. Then you saw her whisper something in his ear, to which he nodded and they each went their separate ways, her into school and him closer to where you were.

"Hello smarty pants. How was the last exam? Ready to enjoy summer the right way?"

"Stop it" you laughed. " It was good I guess. I don't think I have to worry about it, the worst part was the math exam. What are you doing here anyway? Stalking much?" Jungkook put an arm around your shoulders

"Not even! Honestly I didn't know you studied here. I recognized your figure when I came to drop Maddie off. I'm sure you've crossed paths before, right? She's a year older than you and doing finals aswell"

"Ohh yeah I know her, she was in my class and she's just a couple months older than me but who's counting. Didn't know you had a girlfriend" You pulled away from him so that the arm previously around your shoulders fell away. "I don't want any problems with her, I heard she has a temper" He brought you close to him again.

"What girlfriend? I don't have a girlfriend, I'm single and ready to mingle. I'm sure you'd know if I had one. You really think I'd be hanging out with all of you instead of my girl? I'm not stupid Y/n- I love you guys but I'd never choose hanging with my friends over my girl every night" You looked at him confused. "Then what are you?"

"We are just friends."

"That didn't look like friends to me"

"We met on a party I went with some friends, we hit off and have been fooling around since then."

"Ohhhh that type of friends, got it" you were silent for a moment until you spoke again. "never pegged you as that kind of guy" Jungkook made an offended face "Wow. Why are you saying that like it's the worst thing in the world?"

"Sorry I didn't mean it like that. What I meant was that since I met you I always had the idea that you were more of a serious type? I dn't know how to put it in words, justI didn't think you'd be the type to have friends with benefits. I don't know how to explain it- why are we even talking about this? Wheeew. "

"I'm shy at first, not blind Y/n. I'm human and like everyone else I have needs. Just because I don't want any kind of relationship right now doesn't mean I'm trash with them. I'm focused on enjoying my life but I don't have to be naive when it comes to sex and girls. I know what they want and they know what I want, it's easy" He said it jokingly, but you felt attacked. "and we are talking about it because you brought it up. Are you gonna tell me you've never done the same?" The only thing you said to him was "shut up" along with a punch in the arm, which definitely hurt youmore than it did to him.

How much has this guy grown physically in a short space of time?

The week had finally come to an end and Friday night arrived and you, Rosé, Tae and Jungkook were in the usual spot, having the usual conversations. They were sharing what they were going to do over the weekend, while you, on the other hand, were tired and sad. You had a fight with your mother so you were quieter tonight. It was rare for it to happen but when it did, it sucked. She is the type who never thinks before saying things and when she realizes it the damage is already done. Remember when people say words are more painful than a slap? that's you. You always considered your mother as your best friend, you knew you could count on her for everything and honestly if it wasn't for her supporting you after your first boyfriend treated you like shit just because you didn't feel comfortable initiating something sexual with him when you were 16, you don't know if you would have made it this far.

It was regular for you and Josh to go to your house or his after school, to study together and have some fun as a typical young couple who are at the beginning of their sexual discovery, however, you still didn't feel ready to go all the way. Of course you had already done other types of foreplay, but not the act itself. You had been dating for 6 months and at first he was super respectful but then he was increasingly pressuring you to do it, always implying if you didn't want to it was because you didn't really like him. You had already learned how to deal with it as he always ended up respecting your wishes until that one day.

You had just arrived home and your parents were still at work as usual. You had prepared some snacks and were in the living room watching tv until he started getting closer to you and give you little kisses on the neck and that was alright because there was nothing new, however, he started to be rougher, more aggressive and started to hurt you in the process. When you realized everything, you started to panick and begging him to stop, but he wouldn't. You did everything you could to get out of his grip, yet he was stronger and heavier than you so all your attempts were in vain. You just remember crying and trying to scream, asking him to stop and him kissing you everywhere and touching you in places you didn't want.

You know it was a miracle when you hear a key being inserted into the door and see your mother come in. Both your parents usually didn't get home until 8 or 9 at night, if not later. Your mother was a nurse and your father was a businessman so their schedules were difficult to know sometimes. When your mom saw you in that state she immediately went to help you and that's the last you can remember. Your therapist had said sometimes our brain blocks our traumatic memories as a protective mechanism and that's what happened to you. Since that moment you haven't been able to get involved with anyone on a more intimate level. You had a lot of support from your parents and if they were protective before, they became even more so after what happened.

Fortunately, and with therapy, you were gradually able to overcome this trauma, being able to live your life like before again, with a lot of help from Rosé too. That's why whenever you fought with your mother, especially over stupid things, you ended up feeling somewhat guilty and ungrateful. While you were listening to your friends talking, your phone started ringing and you looked at the screen and saw "mummy". Standing up you told them you were going to answer a call and went out to talk to her. At the end of the call you were calmer and she even apologized to you. Surprising, I know. When you were getting ready to go back you felt someone's presence behind you and turned around, coming across a worried Jungkook.

"Is everything okay?"

"Ohh yeah everything's fine. My mom called me and I couldn't hear anything inside" Jungkook sat down on a little stair near the entrace mentioning for you to do the same.

"I noticed you're very quiet today and that's not you. What's wrong?"

"I had a huge fight with my mom today. It's rare when we fight but when it happens it's bad and it was over something so ridiculous. Now she called me to apologize and ask if I was alright and said she would always support me no matter what I decided to do and yeah that definitely made me feel better. Thanks for noticing Kook"

"No problem, smartass. We are friends and if you are unwell of course I will be concerned. Next time talk to me, maybe it will relieve you, you don't have to bear everything alone, you know that right?"

"I know you do, but thank you anyway." There was a pause and then you looked at him again and wrinkled your nose "I'm glad Rosé bugged me over and over again to hang out with you guys, it was probably one of the best decisions I've ever made in my life."

"I wish I had met you sooner, you know. In a way I think my life would have taken a 360 degree turn for the better if that had happened before." As he said this, his voice was so serious and soft at the same time it sent shivers down your spine. At that moment there was something between you and him that you couldn't describe, but you knew it was comforting, those words had made you feel shy, so you moved closer to him and laid your head on his shoulder.

"You may not believe it, but I believe things happen when and how they have to happen and if we only met now it is for a reason. Perhaps if we had met before we wouldn't get along as well as we do now. It's all in good time Kookie, even if we think it isn't." Jungkook grabbed your hand and intertwined it with yours, laying his head on top of yours. After that, neither of you spoke again, staying there feeling the gentle wind on your faces. You loved being like this with him, close to him, protected by him, because you knew that for you and your heart that was already a little more than just friendship.

After that day you didn't see Jungkook for some days, something about him being too busy managing his personal and professional life according to Tae's words. He, you and Rosé were having a great time. Together you would go to the pub every night, going to the city's famous nightclub aswell. Not that you were a club girl, you were more for them than for yourself, yet you can't deny you ended up having a good time. You found yourself missing Jungkook a lot more you thought you would, wondering what had him all caugh up that he couldn't even hang with you anymore.

Would it be Maddie or someone new?

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July 2016

Three weeks later and your birthday was finally here and you were super excited. You always loved celebrating birthdays, the coexistence, the surprises, everything about it excited you and this year wouldn't be different. You had gone to your grandparents house for the weekend with your parents. They lived two hours away from you so whenever you went to visit them you made sure to enjoy every second. During the days you were there, you always talked to Rosé, who told you how things were going with Tae and in a way also gave you updates on Jungkook. Apparently he had gone to a tattoo artists' conference abroad and forgot to activate his data so he could talk to everyone, losing his phone midway his trip. You were happy to know the reason for his disappearance was entirely professional.

You got back on Wednesday night a little before dinner time. You had just finished packing all your things when you heard someone knock on your bedroom door. Opening the door, you're met with a super excited Rosé "I missed you so much". She may look tough, but deep down you know she's a softie. You knew her presence there wasn't for nothing. According to her she was on a mission to get you to hang out with the group a bit. Initially you refused, saying you were too tired, but she knows how to persuade people very well and before you knew it, you were all dressed up and ready to walk out the door.

When you arrived at your usual spot you saw the usual table, occupied by the usual people, only this time there was one more person: a girl more or less your height and with dark, long hair. Honestly, her features were identical to yours, the only difference was the style of clothing she wore to show off her beautifully sculpted body. You didn't have that body, you were a little fuller than her, with more hips and your legs touched - your biggest insecurity. She took the seat next to Jungkook, where you usually sat. Rosé didn't notice your sudden change in behavior, perhaps because she was already focused on her boyfriend who was pointing to the seat next to him. When the others finally noticed your presence, both Jungkook and the mysterious girl next to him looked back and for a second you forgot how to walk. Shit. It's only been three weeks since you last saw him, but he looked different: stronger, more defined, more tattooed and even more handsome. He changed his haircut too and added two more earrings to the one he already had. Your eyes met for a few minutes, until you reached the table saying hi to everyone

"Y/n finally you give us an opportunity to see your pretty face" Tae said wrapping one arm around Rosé's chair. "I thought you were mad at us and were going to pull a Jungkook stunt."

"As if Tae, as if. It's only been five days since you last saw me, there's no need for you to miss me that much. Besides, you knew where I was and I was always contactable," you said, walking around the table. You noticed Jungkook had opened a space between him and Tae, perhaps for you to sit there, however, you grabbed a chair and pulled it next to Rosé. You saw Jungkook frowning.

"Yeah you're right. Regarding that, Jungkook is the master champ without a doubt, disappeared without saying anything and when he returned he brought a friendly surprise with him." Tae was teasing Jungkook but didn't get any reaction from him. You shrugged, opening the can of Coke Zero you ordered and pouring it into the glass with ice and lemon. "Expected" was all you said about it before the mood grew tense. Jungkook was still quiet, despite the girl next to him laughing at what was being said. The rest of the time was spent talking about plans for the rest of the summer and what to do before college started until Rosé mentioned your birthday.

"So as you guys know our Y/n's birthday is tomorrow and we have to celebrate properly, so tomorrow get ready to party all night long. There are no exceptions, so don't even remember to make plans for tomorrow, you hear Y/n? I'm going to be extremely upset" Rosé made you pinky swear you wouldn't bail at your own party. Around eleven p.m you left the pub where you were, ready to go home. Rosé and Tae were going home together and Jungkook was also supposed to go with the girl whose name you didn't know yet. You had two options: either you'd go with your best friend and her boyfriend or you'd for a walk alone. Obviously you chose the second option. Don't get the wrong impression, you loved to see them happy but you weren't going to submit yourself to that humiliation and even though she said they were going to take you home, you preferred to walk. It was your initial plan until Jungkook spoke to you for the first time that night.

"I can take you home Y/n. I have my car and Catherine lives nearby, we'll drop her quickly and then I'll drop you off safely" So that was her name- Catherine- how fancy you wanted to say. You declined the offer, saying you wanted to walk but Rosé insisted on what a good idea it was and how she felt more at ease knowing Jungkook was the one taking you, claiming she knew who to kill if something happened to you leaving you no choice but to hop on the car with him and fancy Catherine.

She went in the front seat while you got in the back. You heard them talk but you weren't interested in understanding what they were saying just in case you heard something you shouldn't. Instead you were focused in the view outside and how calm it seemed to be, with the light breeze passing over your skin. Five minutes later you felt the car stop and saw fancy Cathy kiss Jungkook on the cheek, says she would see him tomorrow, opened the door and left without saying anything to you. After all why would she? You didn't speak to her once or even tried to talk to her so you couldn't judge. She got out, yet the car remained stopped. At first you thought he was waiting for her to get inside but there was no sign of her anymore. You looked at Jungkook and he was already staring at you through the rearview mirror. "What?"

"I'm waiting for you to move to the front seat. Isn't that how it usually is?"

"I'm good, wasn't planning to move from here for a ten minute ride anyway." You have to admit that sounded harsher than it was supposed to. He didn't respond, but the car remained still. You heard him sigh. "If you don't move to the front then I'm the one who's going to the back" You mocked him

"You wouldn't do that, especially in front of fancy Cathy's house"

"Wanna bet?" Jungkook started by taking off his seatbelt and when he was about to open the door you got out and sat in the front seat. He grinned. "See? You moved pretty fast" you simply gave him your middle finger. "Soooo... fancy Cathy? Is that what we're calling her now?"

"I thought the name was very fancy, hence the nickname. Does it bother you?"

"Not me. Seems like it bothers you much more than it bothers me." You laughed "Keep dreaming" Jungkook drove just a few meters until he stopped the car in a small, empty park, turned off the car and looked at you, this time with a look that affected your entire body. "What's going on?" You gave him a confused look. "You're acting weird"

"I'm acting weird? You were the one disappearing on everyone and when you came back you spoke to everyone but me. Just figured you were occupied"

"That was my bad and I already apologized for that mistake. I had a last minute conference, it was work related I couldn't just say no. Then I lost my phone and all the contacts, it sucked to be honest, thank you for asking. When I saw Tae and Rosé again, you were already out of town, figured I'd wait for you to come back and tell you about my bad luck myself but then you didn't even spare me a glance"

"Well I'm sorry. Didn't want to get you in trouble"

"Catherine and I are just friends. She's new in town and just started working on the same store where I tattoo. We went to the conference together plus our boss, we ended up bonding" You scoffed at him

"I can imagine" Jungkook rolled his eyes. "Anyway, how long will we be here looking at nothing? It's midnight and I wanna re-" You couldn't finish the sentence because you saw Jungkook pick up a mini cupcake with a candle on top and grab a lighter.

"Happy birthday smarty pants"

The night of your birthday was starting off really nice.

You and your friends had dinner at one of your favourite restaurants. Jungkook, Tae and Rosé gave you an hotel gift card for two people for 5 nights. Then you guys head off for Seven Rings nightclub, where the majority of teenagers would go. That night you swore to only have fun, so you danced, drank and had cigarettes stolen from Jungkook, who was very displeased and gave them to you after a lot of insistence. You weren't a smoker but when you drank you felt the urge to taste that bitter cigarette taste.

You were on your fourth Sex on the beach and had to admit the jumpsuit Rosé had given you two years ago made you feel pretty sexy and confident. You had rarely used it and thought your birthday was a special day to do so. When you showed up, your friends jaw dropped and for a moment you think you saw Jungkook adjust his pants, or maybe it was just the three beers you had earlier taking effect. Either way, you were feeling amazing and after so many drinks you couldn't care less about your surroundings. Tae was the designated driver, which meant everyone else, including you, were drunk.

Right now you're on the dance floor with Rosé while Tae and Jungkook had gone to get a drink. You were so focused on the music that you only noticed a pair of hands around your waist when someone turned you around and came face to face with you. Jungkook had a cocktail in his hand while the other was on you, pressing you against him. He looked divine: black pants and plaid shirt slightly open and tight to his body, with some of his new tattoos on display and hair longer than usual. You can't deny he was a charming and sexy man and you couldn't judge the fact that all the women ate him up with their eyes, it's not like you've never done that either, like yesterday, when he dropped you off and you went to your room, grabbed your vibrator and started pleasing yourself thinking about him. You can't recall having such a strong orgasm before. Now he was dancing so close to you you could feel his breath hit your nose and you were sure he could feel your heart beat fast too. You could smell the perfume he 'stole' from you a while back too.

"If no one has told you yet let me be the first to say you look extremely sexy today"

"Well thank you loverboy. I tried my best today, after all it's not everyday you have an opportunity to celebrate another year of life" Jungkook approached your face even more, just to whisper in your ear "I'm glad to have an opportunity this year and I hope to have many more in the coming years as well."

"Ohh Kookie if I didn't know any better I'd say you were flirting with me" You knew the conversation had to end but you didn't expect him to keep up with your game.

"Who told you I'm not?" He was looking at you so intensely and you were so close to each other the only thing you could look at was his lips. You got closer and closer and when your lips were about to touch someone pulled him away. Behind him was Fancy Cathy in a top that showed almost everything and a skirt that looked more like panties. For such a fancy name, her clothing choices left a lot to be desired.

Jungkook was a little stunned, but managed to say something to her, turning his attention to you again with hopeful eyes. You know what he intended, but you couldn't. You had a plan for yourself and you couldn't get away from it, besides, he was one of your best friends, getting involved would ruin everything and he had already said he wasn't looking for something serious or a long-term relationship. You knew his focus was on enjoying life and having as many hook ups as possible. He tried to pull you close again but you stepped away a little and took a deep breath, excusing yourself to catch some air. He followed you "Y/n wait" - he reached for your arm as you turned around to face him again "talk to me!"

"There is nothing to talk about Jungkook this is wrong! I'm drunk and so are you, we'd wake tomorrow regretting our actions and would make things awkward between us. Let's face it, we'd never work out"

"Why? How'd you know that if you don't give yourself a chance to figure it out?" you hurt him and you could tell by his voice

"How do I know? just by what you told me Jungkook. I don't wanna be one of the many friends you fool around with whenever you feel like it and move on from when you're bored. That's you, not me"

"That's what you think of me hum? Good to know. Sorry for reading it all wrong." he started to turn around but looked at you again "You're right in one thing though, we'd never work out wanna know why? Because I wouldn't be able to handle such a prude like you. And just so you know, the only reason I went out with you on the first day was because Rosé and Tae convinced me. You didn't get along with anyone and your best friend would get so worried about you that Tae wanted to fuck her without having to worry about you calling her all the time"

Suddenly everything slowed down, the words, the people, the music- everything- Is that why she always insisted for you to go out with them and meet other people? because you were a burden? You didn't realize you were alone outside, nor that you sat on a chair looking into the darkness with tears streaming down your eyes, much less did you remember Rosé approaching you. Everything was blank

"Y/n? hey girl, are you feeling okay? Jungkook went inside saying he messed up. What happened?" You tried to say something but nothing would come out, only tears. The shock of those words left you completely speechless and the only thing you wanted was to get out of there. Rosé was joined by Tae, who looked at you with panic and concerned eyes, tried to get close to you but you pushed him and he didn't force it. When you felt calmer, you got up without talking to any of them and went to the bathroom. There, you cleaned the mess on your face and texted your dad if he could come and pick you up. You got an answer within 2 minutes telling you to wait for him outside the club. You left the bathroom and went to the girl who keeps the coats and bags and handed over your ID to get your belongings back when Rosé found you again. "Y/n talk to me, what's wrong with you? What did Jungkook say to make this upset?"

"What did he say? What you never had the courage to tell me. I already understood everything Rosé. Don't worry, it's okay, I'm tired and I want to go home, my father is already on his way so there's no need to worry about my whereabouts. Enjoy it with your friends" As you headed towards the exit, you looked at the counter and you were sure it was Jungkook ordering a drink with Fancy Cathy by his side. Son of a bitch - he ruined your night, turned your head into mush and still comes out on top.

Motherfucker

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The next day you woke up with a massive headache. Your phone had ran out of battery and you didn't even bother to plug it. You made it load up, opened the windows and went to take a shower. Your parents had already gone to work, meaning you were on your own. Your father was very worried about you last night, but you said everything was fine, that your period started and you were in pain and uncomfortable. You don't know if he believed it, but it helped for him not to bring up the subject again.

30 minutes after a nice shower, you wrapped yourself on your towel and got dressed. You glanced at your phone and saw dozens of messages from Rosé and Tae, but nothing from Jungkook. You figured he was too busy fooling around with fancy Cathy to acknowledge the shit he said yesterday. You ignored them all, put your headphones on and decided to tidy up your room, which was a mess. Next week you'd know the answers from the colleges you applied to and if everything went well you'd be far away by the end of September.

4 days passed after that day

Every now and then you'd receive a text from Rosé mostly. From Tae you received two the day after the incident saying "whatever Jungkook said, I'm sorry" and "please don't push us away. Rosé and I are worried about you" None of them ever mentioned Jungkook, nor had he tried to contact you after that. One of those times, you replied to Rosé saying you needed some space and wanted to be alone. Despite everything, she was still your best friend and it wasn't her fault, but Jungkook's words echoed in your head over and over again.

Monday.

You had finally left your house after being locked up for days. Your mother was working at the animal shelter she used to volunteer and asked you to stop by the grocery store to pick up a few things she needed. 3 p.m and you were wearing black shorts and a gray tshirt and your hair was loose, freshly washed. You had your headphones on and were completely relaxed in Walmart when you saw a familiar figure. You tried to turn around without anyone noticing you, but it was impossible because you immediately felt a hand on your arm. When you turn around, you come face to face with a worried and sad Rosé.

"Please don't run away Y/n. You're killing me with worry and you've distanced yourself from me and I don't even know why." At that moment you felt a pang of guilt- she was right - despite everything, the mess was between you and Jungkook, not anyone else. You bought what you needed and the two of you went for a drink nearby. Even without any need, you were nervous.

"I miss you bestie. What the hell happened that night? I spoke with Jungkook and the only thing he said was how he fucked up and how sorry he was. He disappeared too, Tae has been with him but refuses to let me know what the hell happened and I just feel lost."

The events of that night pass through your memory for the thousandth time. "Jungkook and I were dancing. We were both kinda drunk, he flirted with me and I flirted back, friendly teasing. Then we started getting closer and closer until we were interrupted by the friend who went with us the other day. She messed with Jungkook and I think it dawned on me what was about to happen and I panicked" suddenly you felt tears prying your eyes but you kept talking. "I started thinking about my future plans, our friendship, our goals… about how he behaves when it comes to girls- I don't know, I was afraid of I don't even know what honestly. I ended up telling him I needed some air and he followed me, we argued. I told him we were both drunk and were confusing things and we would regret our actions the next day and it wasn't going to work out between us. He freaked out, but I was honest Rosé. After Josh I never got along with any other male, I don't see things the way he sees them, how he handles female friendships- I was an idiot but so was he"- You took a deep breath- "In the end he agreed we would never work out because he couldn't be with a prude like me and that he only started hanging out with me because you guys had convinced him. Not to mention that Tae was fed up with you constantly being worried about me that you couldn't even fuck, something like that. After half of those words I couldn't think straight and I just wanted to run away from there so I went to the bathroom and asked my dad to pick me up. The end."

Rosé's expression was pure shock. "Y/n that's.... That's not true. I mean yeah me and Tae wanted to introduce you to him but only because we thought you guys would hit off pretty good and in fact you did! It had nothing to do with us fucking- anyway. I am speachless. Peanut, I'm so sorry for this mess, I didn't realize any of that, if only I had seen it coming." Rosé grabbed your hand and squeezed it - "I didn't even notice Jungkook was drinking- I heard him say he'd only be up to water and juice- which is not an excuse- I- Fuck!" she stopped talking for a bit " I spoke with him after you left, he was panicking, saying he messed everything up with you, how he didn't mean to say what he did. Tae went with him to catch some air while I stayed with Catherine, we dropped him home and then he vanished aswell" She didn't say anything else and you weren't interested in knowing more about him either. You know you overreacted that day, but that didn't justify the angry words that came out of his mouth. If you knew, you would never have gone to that damn nightclub.

You and Rosé continued to sit there and after you calmed down, she changed the subject. You already missed being with her like this: with no stress, without worries. Shortly after, you returned home, but not before promising her you wouldn't vanish again without first giving an explanation. Truth to be told, she was always more rational than you.

The rest of the days flew by. You never saw Jungkook again and you also chose not to cross paths with Tae, perhaps out of shame of what he might have heard and what he might know. The good part was that you started doing more for yourself: you joined the gym, you committed to reading more and soon you'd know where you were going to study. You were excited as hell, after everything, you just wanted to get out of that city, meet new people, focus on something other than how Jungkook made you feel that night and how little he cared about you.

He wasn't a bad person and he never gave you reasons to be mad at him and maybe you overreacted that night and were a bit off limits with what you said, but the way you'd see him with different girls would always make you feel tensed up and weird. How could he be with so many girls at the same time? You knew he had a type: all the girls he had been with were so similar to you that you didn't want to be just one more of his conquest.

You were now 19 and still a virgin, always extremely shy and never felt comfortable with guys after Josh so that topic was something you were sensitive about. No one knew other than Rosé-who was way more experienced than you- however she never pressured you into anything, on the opposite, she always encouraged you over the person who was your first, since she had a terrible experience in this aspect. Intimicy was something you found difficult to have with someone else and maybe that's the main reason it'd confuse you how Jungkook could be with so many people at the same time and for them to be alright, you'd never understand that.

Ohhh Jungkook

He never reached out or would cross patches with you either. Whenever you'd hang out with Rosé and Tae he'd never show up. There was this one time you think you saw him at the same place as you but you panicked so much you didn't get the courage to see if it was really him or not. When you looked back again he wasn't there anymore - maybe it was a mirage- you missed him so much, despite everything, he meant so much for you, he understood you like no other and would always support you no matter what. You never thought your friendship or whatever existed between you would break over something so silly

It had been two weeks since that day. You already knew where you were going to study, in fact college wasn't too far away - 1 hour by car and 30minutes by train, which you could catch sometimes, even though you decided to stay in the dorms, only going back home from time to time. Everything was outlined. Among your hobbies, you had also gotten a part-time job at a cafe that allowed you to earn some money until you went to college. You would only start taking things in mid or late September to start classes in the beginning of October. You were excited - new place, new people - everything meant to be perfect - but you should know not everything goes as we would like and you would be proof of that very soon.

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September 2016

It was the last week before your classes started and you moved permanently. Together with your parents, you had already gone to visit the room where you'd be staying, taking some things there. Today was also your last day at work, so to celebrate you, Rosé, Tae and some of your co-workers: Jade, Leigh and Jackson went out for dinner, followed by a movie session of the latest horror film that had come out: M3gan 2.0. You were excited and at the same time nervous and nostalgic. You had never left the protective wings of your parents, or even gone to a place where you didn't know anyone. Within a week you were on your own and it was making you anxious, even though you know it's part of the moving process.

You had just finished dinner at McDonald's and were about to buy tickets for the 9 p.m. session, but you needed to go to the bathroom first, which happened to be in the same hallway as the cinema entrance, telling Rosé to buy your ticket while you were there. Two minutes later you were done, washed your hands, checked your makeup and headed towards your friends, when suddenly you felt your phone vibrate inside your bag and you looked down at it, trying to find it. It was only seconds, but that was all it took for you to go against someone

"God I'm sorry. I was distracted and didn't see - " Words failed you as you looked up and saw a face you were all too familiar with. In front of you was Jungkook, with the same bambi eyes and the same piercing in the corner of his mouth, but more robust, even more tattooed and sexy as fuck. After your birthday in July, you never spoke again, you only knew he was now working full time at the tattoo shop and how he'd go out with Tae from time to time, but nothing more- you wouldn't ask and Rosé wouldn't tell you either.

You avoided to know about him or see something on his social media because it hurt how casual he moved on like you didn't matter when you were still stuck on that moment. Every time you thought about those words, the cold look, the lack of interest he had in at least admitting he fucked up, cut you in thin layers 'til this day. Maybe if you guys had spoken, today you could remain friends and put that mistake behind you.

Jungkook's face was tense at the sight of you, pale. You could see he wasn't expecting to see you there and didn't know how to react at your presence. The atmosphere was so heavy you just wanted to disappear from there, so you adjusted your bag, bowed and were ready to move until you heard his voice. It was just then that you noticed yourself holding back tears. "I'm sorry". You were confused and he could tell by your face. You took a deep breath.

"You don't need to apologize, I was the one who accidentally bumped against you." He just looked at you. He didn't know how to respond, there was no way, he knew he had fucked up with those ignorant words that only came out because he was angry, he knew he shouldn't have let you go without making the effort to talk to you, but he didn't have balls to do it, he was rude and used arguments he knew would hurt you and he felt so guilty and ashamed he didn't know how to face you after. When he woke up the next morning he realized the shit he had done, yet it was too late and he was too selfish to take the first step. In his head he'd be fine, you were just someone who had crossed his path and he let go.

Until it wasn't fine... at all

He found himself writing to you a million times and deleting after, every day he'd look over your social media to see what were you up to and every day he'd run past your house, telling himself that it was just a short road to his house, deep down using it as an excuse to see if he would cross paths with you. He would ask Tae about you, however he never gave much away, their friendship was also shaky after the way he used his and Rosé's names to unfairly attack you created some distance and only recently things have started to feel normal again. Now, seeing you in front of him, so beautiful, yet so broken was grinding him inside because he knew he was the one who had taken away the shine you once radiated. He had to say something

"I already know that you managed to get where you wanted. Congratulations Y/n, I'm glad you got what you wanted from the beggining."

"Thank you" you turned your head to look for some of your friends and coming face to face with Jackson waiting for you. "I have to go, I have people waiting for me." when you were ready to return to your group you felt Jungkook's hand on your wrist.

"I know I'm the last person you want to see in front of you and I know it's too late and you probably hate me. Not that it's much help, but I want you to know that I also hate myself for that day. Besides losing someone very important to me I also ruined a special day for you and I'm sorry Y/n, for everything." you felt your face getting wet and with your sleeve you wiped the tears rolling down your cheeks. "

Not that it changes anything but thank you for this, I really appreciate those words." You couldn't say anything else, so you mumbled a "Sorry, I really have to go" and quickened your pace. Today was supposed to be a day where your only concern was to have fun, not end the night crying. At another time you knew Jungkook would be your support. In another time you knew your last days in the city would be with him, but on this very moment you only felt sadness invading your entire being because it wasn't possible. Damn, you just wanted to be in his comfort, between his arms and his warmth, he was the person who made you feel the safest and now you were completely unprotected. You missed him but right now there was no way you could reconnect with each other and maybe that was the best

For now

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October 3rd 2016

First day of school and you were a nervous wreck. A much bigger school than you were used to, with so many different things. You were trying to find the first classroom when a girl bumped into you, someone a little taller than you, light brown hair that almost reached her butt, hazel brown eyes.

"Hello- Hi- sorry, didn't see where I was going." She looked nervous, just like you.

"Hi, it's okay, it happens. First day?"

"Yes and to make it better I don't know anyone or know how and where to find the classroom and I'm going to be late. Did you see how big this is? It's easy to get lost here." You both laughed.

"I know what you're saying. I got into Education - my goal is to be a kindergarden teacher, yours?"

"Oh my God same! does that mean we're in the same class? I'm Alexa by the way."

"Y/n, nice to meet you. So let's go find this classroom or what?"

Alexa was very nice and committed, as well as calm. During the day you also met two more girls: Ivy and Jess. Both Alexa and Jess lived in the city, but you and Ivy, since you were from far away, had rooms close to college and the best thing was that you both actually stayed in the same dorm. That day, when you spoke to your mother and told her you had made new friends and that one of them was luckily your roommate you noticed the calmness in her voice. By the end of the week you already knew college inside out, as well as the buses and trains you had to take.

It didn't take long until Friday arrived and you were waiting for the bus near your dorm. You were going back home to see your parents, since they almost made you promise you would go home at least two or three times a month. When the bus arrived, you chose a seat and put on your headphones to drown out the noise around you until you caught yourself looking at a boy who in turn was already looking at you. You smiled and looked away embarrassed. About five minutes later you felt a tap on your shoulder

"Excuse me, can I sit here?" A blond guy with honey color eyes and a perfect smile planted in his face said. He wasn't very tall, around 1.70m but damn was he attractive. Since you couldn't formulate a verbal response, you just nodded and he smiled and sat down next to you. At first he didn't say anything, but then he started talking to you about college life and how difficult it could be. You found out he had been here for a year, but had switch majors to Economics, so he was repeating his first year again although he had already completed some subjects due to his previous major. The conversation between you was so interesting that before you knew it, you had arrived at the train station.

You thought you wouldn't see him again so soon, but you were surprised to see him get on the same train: curiously, you discovered you lived in neighboring towns, ten minutes apart by car. During your conversation, he seemed interesting and humble and above all, he was going through a complicated process since he had just lost his grandmother a week ago. You had never experienced the pain of such a loss, so you sympathized with his pain, just imagining losing someone so close to you gave you chills. He left before you, so before he got to his stop he asked for your social media and added each other. In your opinion it was still too early for you to give him your number and you didn't even know if you would see him again, but the truth is that you were curious about him.

When you got home, there was a message from him on Facebook and then you started talking every day. At first, you didn't mention it to your mother or Rosé, but both of them noticed your phone wouldn't stop vibrating and you ended up confessing you were meeting someone. Your mother was shocked, but Rosé was a little apprehensive.

"I thought you would be happy to see me talking to someone of the opposite sex" you said jokingly. She sighed.

"And I am, baby. I guess deep down I thought you and Jungkook would turn things around and get over what happened before and get close again. You were perfect together." Since that little encounter a month ago, you haven't seen or spoken to him again. Of course at first you compared Jungkook to Peter, they were the opposite of each other and you missed Jungkook's craziness, but it was time to move on.

"Ohh c'mon Rosé, it was never like that and you know it. We got along so well because I was the only one who could resist his charms from the very beginning. I knew everything about him, the good and the dirt, the girlfriends, conquests, flings, you name it. It never went beyond that, don't be silly." She scoffed

"Ohh Y/n please, you're the idiot one, that guy almost got boners every time you'd walk by. He'd look at you and his eyes would literally lit up, whenever you'd speak he'd be the most attentive one, even if it was the dumbest shit ever! That's why Tae and I were so sure something would happen between you two. I know he felt something for you and it wasn't just friendship."

"If he felt something then why didn't he ever say anything? Why was he always with a different girl? Why did he say he just wanted to enjoy life without thinking about serious relationships? I think you two are the ones who traveled too far and saw things where they didn't exist."

"Because both you and him are stubborn as hell and he knew about your goals and that you were leaving soon or maybe out of fear just like you. It may not seem like it Y/n, but he's more serious than you think and he's very intense. It saddens me that's all, I think you would make a wonderful couple." You didn't say anything else. First you didn't know what to say and second you weren't interested, not anymore.

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November 2016

You and Peter talked every day and ironically you ended up seeing each other every day either on the bus or when he'd go see you when you finished classes or vice versa. At this point you had already exchanged numbers and were officially dating, life was going well and you were finally starting to be happy again, but nothing lasts forever and what was one of your biggest fears would come true way too soon.

Classes were starting to take a heavy toll on you: lots of work for more than 10 different subjects, group and individual projects and and you were getting into a nervous spiral, time seemed to be running out. It was wednesday, around 7 p.m and you were so envolved on your homework about child development that it took you a while to notice someone was calling you. Looking over to your phone you saw a call from your dad.

"Hey dad, what's up?" It was rare for him tocall you; it was usually your mother.

"Hey honey, how are you?" He had an apprehensive tone.

"I'm fine but you don't seem so well dad, what's going on?" He avoided answering at first and you stopped what you were doing and started walking around the room.

"Baby we need to talk. First of all I want you to try and stay calm, okay? It's about your mother…" The rest of his words were whispers, everything became a blur and before you knew it, you were packing a small bag and heading to the bus stop as fast as you could. From what you could gather from your father's words, your mother wasn't feeling well and started throwing up a lot. At first, they thought it was indigestion, but then she started to feel strong back pain and had difficulty breathing and keeping her balance and he took her to the hospital at her request. She was someone who hated the smell of hospitals so for her to ask to go there was already a red flag.

While you waited to reach your destination, you sent a quick text to Peter saying your mother had felt unwell and you had to leave in a hurry to be close to your dad. A journey that took 30 minutes was taking ages and you could only imagine the worst case scenarios. When you arrived at the station, you took the first taxi you saw and went straight to the hospital where you found your father sitting with his head in his hands.

"Dad- dad, how is mom? Have they said anything? I'm here now, sorry it took so long."

"Your mother is doing tests, I don't know anything yet, baby. Don't apologize, everything will be fine, let's try to stay calm." And you waited for minutes, hours, you couldn't even tell the difference anymore.

11:13 pm

Neither you nor your father had eaten and the pain of not knowing anything was killing you. Suddenly you saw a nurse walking towards you and stood up.

"Marie Evans' family?"

"Yes it's us."

"We've just finished all the tests and have confirmed the diagnosis. Mrs. Evans has advanced pancreatitis and is currently on medication. We're waiting for her condition to improve so we can transfer her to a better ward. You can come with me, give her a kiss and collect her belongings, please." You were the first entering the room where your mother was. She had all kinds of devices connected to her: both inside and out, you had never seen anything like it and immediately started crying.

"Please don't cry baby, it's okay, I'll be fine. I want you to remain calm and never give up on your goals. It's late my love, go home with your father, get some rest and don't forget you have classes tomorrow. I love you very much, you're my dream come true. Both you and your father are my life and I'll always take care of you." Her words were weak and you could see the effort she was making to say them.

You kissed her forehead and told her you loved her. Your father came in shortly after and you said goodbye to her along with her belongings: cell phone, glasses and wedding ring. All of this is the sum total of a human being and the memories they carry. They kept your number in case there was any change in her condition. That night you slept in your father's bed, you couldn't go to your room alone, needless to say you didn't sleep at all that night.

8 a.m and your father called the hospital to find out about your mother's condition and they told him everything was normal. After these words you were able to rest a little until you woke up to the sound of your phone ringing and the number of the hospital you had saved earlier.

10 a.m and you got the worst news. Your mother wasn't responding to the treatment and her organs were failing and if you wanted to say goodbye to her you had to go there immediately, because they didn't know how long she would be able to resist. The world fell apart and everything went numb.

10:45a.m you and you dad were at the hospita. You had dark circles under your eyes and you still hadn't stopped crying while your father tried to stay calm. You arrived at the hospital and the first thing you did was to go to the reception to find something out. Apparently she had been transferred to the ICU and a nurse was coming to guide you. The way there was dark and morbid, you had never felt this emptiness and cold inside you before.

11:22 a.m. a nurse came to you again and looked at you with such sad eyes that she approached you with a glass of water.

"Do you want to go in and say goodbye to her one last time?" You said yes and put on those protective suits, gloves and masks. When you got to her side, you couldn't take it anymore and fell on your knees next to her bed, crying desperately.

"I can't, please get me out of here, I can't." she was pale and cold, breathing with the help of a ventilator that would soon stop working. It wasn't her anymore, it was just a body. The nurse helped you out while your father stayed there a little longer. The last thing you remember was fainting in the nurse's arms.

12:08 p.m - after regaining consciousness, your father took you out to get some air and the two of you sat on a bench.

"We have to eat something, sweetheart."

"I know, dad."

"Shall we go?" You shook your head, but neither of you moved to the cafeteria, but instead to the waiting room where a doctor came to you minutes later.

"I'm sorry to inform you, but her condition is deteriorating significantly. We can't guarantee how long it will take: it could be hours or it could be a matter of minutes. I'm so sorry."

1.45 p.m and you were still waiting sitting on those sad and lifeless blue chairs. As much as you could, you informed your closest family so that they could be prepared for anything. You were so young, but with such a huge responsibility you wondered how long you'd be albe to hold on. The same nurse who helped you a few hours ago came back to you.

"Do you want to try going in one more time?" You nodded and went back in with your father. This was the last time you were going to see your mother, you had to say goodbye somehow, no matter how much it would cost you. You approached her and took her cold hand. "I know you've been waiting to go, mom. I'm sorry for keeping you locked up here. I know you did everything you could and that you'll always keep an eye out for us. You can go, mom, we'll be fine. Go in peace, just don't forget that I love you very much and I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

2.30 p.m and the doctor responsable for your mother called you and your father into a private room, telling you to sit down. You understood everything. As soon as he said, "I'm sorry," you lowered your head to cry. "We don't understand what happened or why she stopped responding to treatment, but her condition was always very delicate. She never stabilized normally and had very intense peaks. As nurse Adams explained, the situation got worse in the early hours of the morning and to avoid even more suffering we had to put her into a coma." He spoke, but you didn't understand anything.

You were empty inside. You didn't even remember leaving the hospital, all you knew was when you left those diabolical doors, Peter, Rosé, Tae and Jungkook were waiting for you, with tears on their faces. You didn't think much and ran out: not to your best friend, nor to your boyfriend, but to the person who hurt you a while ago: Jungkook: he was the one you needed right now. Jungkook hugged you so tightly that luckily you didn't lose your breath. You cried against his chest and he cried silently for you, affirming that everything was going to be okay and from that moment on nothing would take you both apart.

Two weeks have passed

It's been two long weeks since you lost your mother and you just went back to college. Between organizing the funeral and managing to stay on your feet, at the same time being the only pillar of support for your father who was also trying to cope with the pain of an unexpected loss.

After the funeral, you isolated yourself more at home, trying to find a way to move on. You've been receiving texts from your friends giving you strength, although they're giving you the space they know you need. This whole situation has helped you and Jungkook to end up getting a little closer too, he'd show up at your door with food or suplies Rosé would tell him you needed and he'd buy. Other times he'd cook for you and make you company while your dad had to go work.

You and Jungkook agreed to put things behind and be friends, but never went back to the way they were before, plus now you were with Peter and he was also getting to know someone who frequented his tattoo store often. It's a good thing you moved on, because he did too. You both moved on and learnt from past mistakes and you were just grateful for having him in your life again, slowly going back to normal.

Now about Peter, he has been with you and supporting you a lot too. The fact he also went through the loss of his grandmother not long ago made him more familiar with all these new feelings on your side, making it easier to talk to him. On one occasion, you even told him you weren't going to do anything to end your life, but if it happened you wouldn't care. You still couldn't accept you had lost the person who gave you affection and comfort even if the world was against you. On top of that, you stayed with your father who, like you, was in pieces and dealing with college, paper works and internships was driving you crazy.

A few months passed and you were now in June and almost done with the last semester of your first year of college. On one hand, you felt time had passed quickly, but on the other, you felt that it hadn't passed quickly enough. Your relationship with Peter continued to go well, as did your friendship with Rosé and Tae. As for Jungkook, even though you were on good terms it was never the same as before and as time passed you'd only speak from time to time.

When you returned home you made a point of meeting them all. On one of those meetings, you took Peter with you and to your surprise, when you got close to your friends, Jungkook was also there with his girlfriend- Yes it was official- In one of your visits you heard Tae say Jungkook had made his relationship with Sophia official. At first, you thought it would be like the other times, but when Tae mentioned they had been seeing each other for months, you kept quiet. She had managed to change Jungkook's mind in a matter of months. Now seeing her in person you couldn't deny how gorgeous she was: brunette, tall, honey brown eyes with some tattoos on her body, older than him and richer, a deadly combination. Both attractive and perfect for each other. You already noticed Jungkook has a type since all the girls you saw him with had the same features.

How ironic

It was awkward at first and you thanked the heavens that Peter wasn't shy like you. He was outgoing and talkative, always had something to talk about and when he didn't he would invent something. Sophia was also chatty and seemed like a good girl deep down. When she wasn't talking, she was snuggled up to Jungkook and sometimes you noticed her eyes darting between you and Jungkook. You just smiled.

She smiled back.

Nothing lasts forever

What you thought was the best thing that ever happened to you turned into a huge nightmare. You were currently on vacation and wouldn't be back to college until October. You had been with Peter for 9 months now and although everything was perfect at first, you were now starting to have second thoughts. A while ago, you noticed his behavior changing and you met a more controlling, manipulative and demanding Peter. You were constantly receiving texts from him asking what were you doing and where you were and if you didn't answer within 5 minutes, he'd flip. When you were studying for your final exams back in May/ June, you weren't paying so much attention to your phone and your father or roomate would show up next to you with his phone in his hand saying Peter was on the other line to talk to you. Of course, this always led to a lot of arguments.

You hated the fact he thought you had to be there for him the entire time. Then he started to pick on you what you wore: either because it was too short and showed off your curves or because it was too colorful and caught others attention. And finally he got to the point where he also started to get mad when you were out with Rosé and Tae. They didn't like him that much and when these situations started to happen, they hated him even more. Your father had also told you he wasn't the man for you. Yes, your own father thought he was childish and stupid and only accepted him because it was your choice. Embarassing how he saw it before you.

He just didn't pick on Jungkook because he didn't know you two used to be that close hence you'd never mention him before, although that had started to change recently. Truth be told, your mother's death had served as a tool for you and Jungkook to get closer again. It had started with small texts here and there asking if you were okay and how you were managing all of it. Little by little you started hanging out with the group again and although it was weird at first, little by little it started to feel like the old days. Until this one day when you had gone to Target to buy some things and in the same aisle you saw Jungkook. At first he didn't see you, but when he looked up he recognized you and came over to you, talked for a while and when you were about to say goodbye he invited you for a coffee. You were embarrassed to admit time with Jungkook had passed so quickly and you didn't even noticed it, something you didn't feel with Peter, whenever you were with him you wanted to leave.

From that day on, you and Jungkook had started hanging out and talking more. He said his girlfriend didn't care and wasn't jealous, that she also went out with her friends. On the other hand, you hid these little hang outs with Jungkook from Peter because you knew it would cause unnecessary mess. You often confided in Jungkook about your relationship, that it wasn't working out and you didn't know how to get out of it, because he had helped you so much and you were feeling ungrateful for even thinking about ending it.

Peter was also your first, even though he was an idiot about it. You were honest with him about everything related to sex and he always respected you on that. One day you were at his house and were making out and things were evolving very quickly until he stopped and suggested for you to go to the bathtub. When you asked him why, he simply replied "Since it's your first time, you're going to bleed and to avoid dirtying the sheets it's better to go to the bathtub, because it's easier to clean"

When you heard that, you instantly lost your excitement and felt ridiculous. You slapped him so hard your hand left a mark on his face, and left. Stupidly, you ended up forgiving him a couple weeks later, after a lot of work on his part. A short time later, he prepared a romantic dinner and that's when you lost your virginity, however, it wasn't what you expected at all- he was insensitive and rough. He taught you how to suck his dick but didn't want to eat you out because it was "disgusting." He didn't wait until you were wet enough to start the act, which ended up hurting you terribly. It lasted 2 minutes and then he got dressed and went out for a smoke. You swore to yourself if sex was always like this, you'd never want to have it again.

It was the first and last time you did it

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September 1st, 2017

It was Jungkook's birthday and your group of friends had planned to go out. You and Peter were going through (another) rough time so you didn't even invite him. You had planned to go to St. Pierre, a nearby restaurant with affordable prices and excellent food. You, Rosé and Tae were already there when Jungkook arrived with Sophia, holding hands and smiling. Every now and then you forgot that he was a committed guy. They greeted everyone and sat next to each other. My goodness, they were really perfect together, you could tell there was stability in their relationship by the way they acted, the way they spoke and you felt sad for a moment. Damn, you had been through so much and you hadn't even had any luck in love. You got so lost in your thoughts that you only realized it when you felt a light kick and realized it was Jungkook calling your attention, with a worried look while the others remained excited in their conversation. You smiled at him and nodded to assure him you were fine.

After dinner, you went to a bar. Although you were enjoying the atmosphere, you couldn't help but feel a little out of place. Everyone was in couples and happy while you were alone, feeling like you didn't belong. Everyone was dancing and you informed Rosé you were going for a drink, ordered something and went to get some air on the terrace. You picked up your phone and found a ton of texts from Peter - you didn't reply to any of them.

"Is everything okay?" You were surprised to see Jungkook next to you, also with a drink in his hand.

"You scared me Jk" you laughed "Yes, everything's fine, it was very hot inside and the night is amazing so I came here for a bit" He leaned on the railing and rested his arms on it

"You're acting weird. As much as you want to hide it I know you pretty well, I know when something isn't right. Is it Peter?" You sighed and imitated his position.

"That too. I'm tired and I don't even know why. I see everyone around me having fun, living life and being truly happy and I wonder what I did wrong to not be able to enjoy things without feeling bad or guilty for just living. Fuck, look at me. A place full of couples and here I am alone because my boyfriend only does shit and we are more often mad at each other than we are actually happy." You hadn't realized, but the distance between your body and his had gotten smaller. How? No idea. He had turned around and was now leaning his back against the railing, his arms still resting on it, looking at you.

"Sometimes things aren't as they seem. People are actors and those around them only see what they want them to see. I know this first hand" You were going to ask what he meant by that, but stopped when you felt his hand on your shoulder "Break up with him Y/n. If he doesn't make you happy, if he doesn't do you any good leave him. You deserve much more than living with someone who is always criticizing and hurting you."

"Jungkook I..." you couldn't finish your sentence because behind you you heard a throat rumbling and that's when you remembered: Sophia. You quickly turned around to see a confused Rosé.

"You were taking too long so I came to see if everything was okay. Jungkook, Sophia was looking for you, she just went to the bathroom to touch up her makeup." Jungkook nodded and without saying anything looked at you, then at Rosé and went inside. Few seconds later she spoke

"What are you doing peanut? He's dating! As unhappy as you are, don't involve other people. It took a lot for Jungkook to finally meet someone decent and Sophia is actually a good girl and is good for him. Don't ruin your friendship like last time, please."

"Are you crazy? Rosé, you know I'd never do anything to hurt him, who do you think I am? What a shitty thing to say" however you knew what she meant and you couldn't get mad at her because deep down she said what you really felt: Jungkook made you nervous and confused and when you were with him you couldn't help but feel special, to the point to forget he had a girlfriend, a serious relationship and you had someone too, even if it's bad. Sophia was good to Jungkook, they were great together and everyone noticed, even you. That doesn't mean you didn't feel a pang of jealousy: everything you wanted was there, but far far away from you.

You had reached your limit

Once again you and Peter were having a huge argument, this time because you were wearing shorts and a black shirt that were a little too tight for your body. Your father always told you were better than that and you knew he was right and it was time to do something to change that.

There were two weeks left until you started your second year of college and you decided to take advantage of this time with your father and go visit your grandparents. For Peter, it was a tragedy you hadn't taken him and even more so when you refused to go on vacation with him to visit your family. In the end, you were just gaining a little more courage to end things. After Jungkook's birthday, you had met up one more time, two days later at the usual place. All your friends were there and you ended up mentioning that since it was almost time for you to return to college life, you were going to enjoy the rest of your time in your grandparents house. Everyone said they were going to miss you but Jungkook asked how long you were going to be away. Rosé and Tae tried to change the subject as they noticed Sophia's gaze on him and then on you. It was a simple question, but it created some tension there. You didn't see fury in her eyes nor could you grasp what kind of feelings that look conveyed.

You were the first to leave, insisting you still had things to pack and organize before leaving and you hugged them all one by one. When it was Jungkook's turn you smiled, there was no need to say anything. He also hugged you tightly, caressing the back of your head and thanked you for being part of his life again. Finally it was Sophia's turn and she had half smile on her lips and opened her arms to say goodbye. You approached her "Thank you for taking care of Jungkook and for doing so much for him" she looked at you with a smile and hugged you even tighter.

She really was a good vibe and if he was happy then so were you

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It's been 3 days since you got to you grandparents house and you felt like home. In here you felt a huge presence of your mom lingering around. Your first night there you cried with your grandmother, you could have lost a mother but she lost a daughter and it was being infernal for everyone. One thing you noticed about grief was that it felt like a rollercoaster: You could be fine for days, maybe weeks and then one day you'd wake up and couldn't get out of bed. It also helped define your relationship with Peter. You weren't happy and he was becoming increasingly toxic, so you decided to put an end to the relationship. You thought you would feel bad, but you discovered in the end the only feeling you felt was relief. Although you know he will ask you for another chance and will run into you at college, things will work out better this way, at least for you.

It was the third night and you received a text from Jungkook asking how were you and you still hadn't answered. As time went by, you began to realize Jungkook didn't belong in your past and seeing him with Sophia broke your heart little by little and although you were happy that he was okay, you knew this whole situation was partly your fault. If you hadn't been a coward and run away that night, maybe the girl in his arms right now would be you and not her. You were in the middle of whether to answer or not when you moved your finger and it accidentally clicked the call button. You mentally facepalmed yourself and were about to hang up when he answered. Fuck

"H- hi. I'm sorry I didn't mean to call."

"Ohh" silence "It's okay, I'm glad you did though, how are you?" You did pause on that question. You weren't okay at all, but you didn't want to be talking about it with him.

"I'm fine I guess. You?" you heard a dry laugh on the other side

"You're a terrible liar smarty pants, you know that right?" You mentally hit yourself "you can be honest with me, I've told you that so many times. You don't have to pretend with me"

"I'm trying to be okay but it takes time you know. I love being here with my grandparents and my dad, yet I have too many memories of my mom and it's drowning me. That and… well, I broke up with Peter" you heard a throat clearing.

"Did- did you really break up? Did he do something to you?"

"Yes, we broke up. There was no way back, the way he sees life and the way I see it are completely different. Besides, he was becoming more and more possessive and manipulative and I wasn't well anymore. I let myself be out of convenience maybe. Stupid, I know, but I felt alone and he understood how I felt about the loss of my mother and… I don't know- I think it was more because of that, because deep down I always knew we had no future together."

"We need to do a lot of shit to finally see what we have in front of us and find the right person"

"You're speaking for yourself aren't you? for someone who didn't want any kind of serious connection to anybody, you and Sophia are getting along really well." a brief pause "I'm really happy for you guys, everyone can tell you're happy and I have to thank her. Somehow she managed to change something in you, that's a huge deal already. I'm glad you found someone who motivate you to take risks and settle down." There was a brief silence until Jungkook said

"Yes, I think so. There are people who come into our lives to show us something, right?"

"Exactly. Like me and Peter," you laughed, "he definitely came into my life to show me that bad things never come alone. That and the fact now I'm even more sure of what I don't want in my life. Anyway, sorry to bother you so late at night, it really was an accident and I don't want to interfere in your life, it's better to hang up before Sophie gets upset."

"She won't, don't worry. Besides, I'm glad you called. Enjoy your time at your grandparents' and don't forget to give signs of life from time to time in your busy student life." You said goodbye and hung up the phone. It was in those moments you realized how much you missed Jungkook, because only he knew the right way to calm you down and cheer you up. Even if you don't want to admit it, you envy Sophia. She was able to change his view on relationships and you end up imagining what could have happened if you had been the one to give him that opportunity. Back then you were still very childish and had a lot to live and learn in life and Jungkook had a lot of growth to do too, even though there's always that "what if" question thing. "What if things were different?" Now Jungkook already had his other half

And how sad you felt about that

Taglist: @fangirl9990 @httpsmei @petroogorodnik @diptylkrtk @beattiestreet @troublemaker02 @magicalnachocreator @littleflowerpond @bhonbhon @smoljimjim @leftcolorcreation @whoa-jo

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 6.5 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters contain mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: alcohol, jungkook is a mess, swearing

☆word count: 4.4k

☆a/n: this can almost count as a full chapter lmao oop, I hope you enjoy reading <3

☆join the discord server here!

☆series masterpost

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Jungkook is excited. He hasn’t had his friends over in forever, and he and Jimin are already planning to get plastered even though Sera said they shouldn’t.

He’s been needing it, if only so that he can get you off his mind. So that he can forget how awkward things were this week, how you both avoided each other like the plague as if nothing truly ever happened between the two of you.

It’s been making him feel more bitter than he’d care to admit, so getting plastered has been sounding like heaven since Jimin suggested it. Or maybe Jungkook’s true goal is just to get Jimin drunk, if only so that he stops teasing him about you.

About that evening you watched anime with them, and Jungkook couldn’t resist but lean against you, far too close for comfort.

“Is she going to be there?” Jimin says for the thousandth time, wiggling his eyebrows.

They are currently setting up the living room, organizing all the alcohol they got. Sera is lounging on the couch, and she raises her head to look at them.

“Is who going to be there?” she asks.

“Tae’s sister,” Jimin explains, and then slides his gaze back to Jungkook. “They were pretty cosy-”

Jungkook interrupts Jimin’s teasing by punching him in the shoulder, clearly hard enough to hurt as Jimin immediately winces, massaging the spot he hit.

“Fuck off,” Jungkook grumbles. “We’re just roommates.”

“Oh my God, they were roommates,” Sera imitates from the couch, just like the Vine from years ago.

“Exactly my point,” Jimin says, mischievous smirk on display.

“You know I’ll kill you?” Jungkook says, slightly shaking his head as he clenches his jaw.

Jimin laughs, plopping down on the couch next to Sera. “That’s if Tae doesn’t get to you first.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, choosing to ignore the comment this time around. It helps that his phone starts ringing with a call from Lisa incoming. He picks up to learn that she’s outside with Eunwoo and Jaehyun, and Jungkook walks over to the door, opening up for his friends.

Lisa smiles shyly as she meets his gaze, and Jungkook engulfs her in a quick hug before dapping up the two guys. As he follows his friends back to the living room once they’ve ridden themselves of their coats and boots, Jungkook glances towards the bend in the hallway, almost imagining you appearing.

But you’re not here at all. He heard you leave over an hour ago, while he was gaming in his room waiting for Jimin and Sera to show up with the alcohol.

He wonders where you went. If there’s a party on campus that you’re gracing with your presence right now, and somehow his stomach twists at the thought. He pushes it to the far back of his mind, focusing on drinking now that it is time to do so.

As he gets slowly tipsier with every passing sip, Jungkook can’t help but notice how Lisa is bolder than she usually is. Sitting closer, being touchier, and Jungkook would push her away if it wasn’t for the way Jimin is looking at them with narrowed eyes, suspicion painted on his features. 

Lisa could be a good distraction, Jungkook reckons. Not for himself - he wouldn’t have sex with her at all as she’s part of the friend group, and he’d hate to make things awkward. But she could be a good distraction for Jimin’s incessant teasing, so Jungkook seizes the opportunity, lying down with his head on her lap as the boys - Mingyu has now also arrived - are playing Smash on the TV. 

Jungkook feels the way Lisa stiffens for a few seconds, before relaxing as he offers her a quick smile. She melts then, and she starts playing with his hair, which feels way too good in his tipsy - or maybe drunk now? - state.

He sits up when it’s his turn to play, coincidentally grabbing a new beer for himself. He’s just barely won the game when the front door opens, a gush of cold air rushing in, and then you appear, cheeks rosy from the late winter outside.

The sounds fade around Jungkook as he meets your gaze, and his heart comes to a halt in his chest as a frown appears on your face. He hates the sight of it, and he’s too drunk to tell himself it’s not his job to take care of it, so he yells, “Peach!” at the top of his lungs.

He feels everyone turning towards him, and he quickly jumps up to his feet, wobbling slightly as he makes his way towards you.

“It’s freezing,” he says, closing the door. 

You meet his gaze, cocking an eyebrow. “You’re drunk.”

He can’t help himself. He flicks your nose, if only so that your frown dissolves. “Astute.”

You glance towards the living room, but Jungkook doesn’t look away from you. You’re a prison to his gaze after all.

“You didn’t tell me you were hosting something,” you hiss through your teeth.

He leans against the door as you meet his gaze again. “Oh peach, sorry. I thought we weren’t on speaking terms.”

Damn him and his drunk brain, because why the fuck would he say that? 

He hides it behind a grin, and then escapes by walking back to the living room, feeling your eyes boring into his back on the way.

Sera greets you, but Jungkook forces himself to listen to the conversation around him, laughing when everybody does. It’s a little forced, but it goes unnoticed, and the next time he glances towards the door, you have disappeared.

“I want to play with your hair again,” Lisa says in his ear, startling him. 

Sera gets up to head to the kitchen, and Jungkook glances at Lisa. “Huh?”

She pouts, her doe eyes innocent. “Like earlier?”

Right. He’s too drunk to refuse the offer, and he lies down, head in her lap, as she starts running gentle fingers through his hair once more. It doesn’t last too long - the second you emerge from the kitchen after Sera’s return, Jungkook pushes himself up, waving you over.

“Come here!” He narrows his gaze as his eyes drop to the bowl in your hands. “Wait, are those my noodles?”

You glance down. “Maybe.”

“Stop stealing my shit,” he complains, and he gives Lisa the controller he was holding before standing up to walk towards you.

He tries to grab the bowl, but you turn away, offering your back to him. “Nu-uh,” you say. “They’re mine now.”

Jungkook knows his eyebrows are almost touching over his eyes as he says, “No.” He then wraps an arm around your waist, which forces you far too close to his body for comfort. He feels the immediate reaction, his ears slowly turning red, and he covers it up by stealing the bowl from your hands. You try to reach for it, but you’re too small, and he whoops in victory.

“If you like my food so bad, just ask me to cook some for you,” he says, looking down to meet your gaze.

Your face is so close he believes he feels your breath on his skin, and his blood heats up, turning to magma in his veins.

“What are you doing?” you say through your teeth.

Fuck you’re so pretty. It’s all he can think of, and he smiles, winking at you. 

“Making sure you don’t eat the noodles I know I’ll need tomorrow morning for the hangover.”

You clench your jaw. “Just don’t drink too much.”

His eyes trail to the coffee table. “I think it’s a little too late for that.”

“Please, Jungkook,” you say a few seconds after he’s met your gaze again.

Something’s wrong. He feels it in his bones, and he frowns, lowering the arm that was holding the noodles up. “What’s wrong?”

“I just had a shit date, and I’m still hungry. I just want to eat something.”

Hearing that you went on a date does something incredibly ugly to him, and Jungkook takes a step back, handing you the bowl so that he can fold his arms on his chest. “Who did you go on a date with?”

Your answer comes far too quick for it to be normal. “It’s none of your business.”

It dawns on him that he probably already knows, and the sour feeling turns bitter. “Please tell me it’s not the guy from last week.”

“Jungkook,” you firmly say. “It’s none of your business.”

The spike of anger and jealousy forces Jungkook to clench his fists. “He’s an asshole.” He lets out. “Why would you go out with him?”

You grit your teeth. “Because we have history. But I promise you that after the shit date we just had, I’ll never see him again. Happy?”

He isn’t, yet he still says, “Yeah.”

“Now can I go eat in my room while you guys do whatever it is that you’ve been doing?”

You glance towards the living room, and Jungkook looks just in time to see everyone turning their head away from you two. 

The last thing Jungkook wants is for you to go to your room. Hell, he’d go with you if only to make sure you’re okay, truly okay, yet he can’t really do that, can he? So instead, he suggests, “Why don’t you stay with us? To cheer you up?”

You meet his gaze, scanning his features for a few seconds. Jungkook hopes you can’t hear his heart beating out of his chest, settling only when you let out, “Okay.” You pause, sighing, and then add, “But you should chill on the alcohol, you reek of it.”

He narrows his gaze at you, though he has to admit he’s relieved by your teasing tone. It’s much more like the Y/n he knows, and it stays that way for a little while as you move to the living room, and he sits right next to you.

Almost close enough to touch, but not quite touching. He tells himself it’s just to keep a safe distance, to make sure Jimin doesn’t say anything, yet when you joke about the food being too spicy, and Jungkook says, “We just have to build up your tolerance”, his hand lands on your thigh, like your thigh was the metal, and his palm the magnet.

He doesn’t realize it at first, but when you widen your gaze, looking like a startled deer, his mind zeroes in on the spot where he’s touching you, and he immediately pulls his hand away, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

And then someone nudges him in the back, and he glances over his shoulder for half a second, just long enough to notice Jimin looking at him, and Jungkook knows he fucked up. He fucked up bad, so he moves away from you, forcing himself to lie back down with his head in Lisa’s lap.

It hurts you. He can tell that it does from the way you stiffen, barely even eating anymore, looking like you’d rather be anywhere else in the world than right here. But you have to understand - he’s doing this for your good. Both his and yours, to make sure Jimin doesn’t tell Taehyung anything.

It lasts for a little while, you staring at the TV while Lisa runs her hand through his hair, massaging his scalp soothingly - does she notice he’s tensed too? But then Jaehyun asks if you want to drink something, and all the anger and jealousy Jungkook felt earlier when you mentioned your date bursts out of him.

“Careful, Tae’ll kill you if you speak to her.”

He’s been drinking more. Way too much, if he’s honest, and the words come out slurred. He’s too far gone to care, and he ignores what Jaehyun answers to focus on the TV, on the beer next to him and on Lisa’s fingers in his hair. 

He wants her to stop. He wants all of them to go, to leave you two alone, but instead Lisa leans down to whisper in his ear.

“What happened between you and Tae’s sister?”

The question hits too deep. Nothing happened, he should answer. Yet everything did. Everything fucking happened and it shouldn’t have because now he wants you, always. Can’t fucking stop thinking about you, and it’s driving him crazy.

He doesn’t answer Lisa’s question. Instead, he sits up to take a long sip of his beer, and that is answer enough. Indeed, Lisa sighs dramatically next to him before grabbing her own drink. 

After that, Jungkook just drinks, which gets him far too drunk. He knows he should stop, but you’re still right there next to him, way too close for comfort yet way too far, and his mind is growing dizzy. 

It gets worse when you get up to walk to the kitchen after you’ve done shots, Lisa following behind you. Jungkook knows he has to follow, yet he’s drunk, and getting up is a struggle, but he eventually manages to push up to his feet.

He walks to the kitchen, stopping right outside as he catches sight of Lisa’s back, and you standing in front of her. 

“Peaaaach,” he yells, a lot louder than he first intended to. He plays it off by leaning against the door frame as you meet his gaze over Lisa’s shoulder. “What are you guys doing?”

Lisa turns. “Just talking.”

“Well then,” he lets out, cocking an eyebrow. “Why don’t you come just talk with everyone else?”

He wonders if he sounds as annoyed as he feels. He must, because Lisa frowns before glancing at you as you stifle a laugh. She sighs, shrugging, and then she’s walking towards Jungkook. He steps aside to let her leave, offering her a tight-lipped smile on the way.

Once she’s out and heading back towards the living room, Jungkook walks in, moving towards you.

“I’m…” he trails off, and he loses his balance for a few seconds, catching himself as he stops next to you. “I’m fucking drunk.”

“You want water?” you offer, and it warms Jungkook’s heart.

Because of course you would take care of him. Which, he reckons, is another reason why he shouldn’t stop drinking, because his heart shouldn’t warm in his chest when it comes to you.

“Water?” He shakes his head. “No, I want beer.”

“Jungkook,” you scold. “You don’t look like you should be drinking more.”

He snorts, and he steps closer to you, looking down at you where you’re standing in front of him, your pretty face tilted up to hold his gaze. You’re blocking the way to the fridge, and he clenches his jaw momentarily.

“Move.”

“Drink water first,” you insist, standing your ground.

You’re too pretty. Too addictive, and his hand finds your waist, pulling you flush against him. You shriek, pushing on his chest, but he doesn’t let go.

“Let me get a beer,” he says, and he drops his head to whisper in your ear next. “Before I do something we’ll both regret.”

But you’re so close, the lingering smell of your perfume inebriating, and Jungkook doesn’t want to let go of you... Doesn’t think he’d regret kissing you, holding you, though he knows that might just be drunk thoughts.

Sober him would hate himself.

“Listen,” you whisper, and you fall silent as he ghosts his lips on the shell of your ear. “I’m not drunk enough for this.”

He does it again, and you tilt your head to the side, allowing him better access, a clear sign that you want it just as much as he does.

Or so he likes to tell himself.

“It’s hard to pretend when you look so damn good,” he murmurs, his blood like electricity in his veins. “Always.”

“Jungkook…”

It’s the plea in your voice. It undoes him, reminds him of your brother, of every little reason why he shouldn’t be doing this right now. He steps away, horror itching in his heart.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “Wow. You’re right. I need water.”

He stumbles to a cupboard, grabbing a glass that he then fills at the sink. He drinks it in one go, and then refills it, leaning against the counter to sip on it.

“What was that?” you ask as he meets your gaze.

He doesn’t know. He’s just insane - thoroughly, completely insane, and his body seems to think you’re the cure to the madness. 

He sighs, sucking on his piercings. “I don’t know.”

“You can’t do that.” You sound mad, and Jungkook’s heart squeezes in his chest. “Especially not when there are people around.”

He shrugs, tongue pushing against his cheek. “Sorry.”

Your features fall, eyes softening. “It’s okay,” you reassure, though he’s not sure you mean it. “You just caught me off-guard.”

He doesn’t like the sudden softness in your voice, the way it makes him want to cross the distance between you and kiss you dumb. So he does what he knows best, smirking lazily. “Liked it?”

You shut your eyes, taking a deep breath that makes Jungkook think you’re probably about to curse him and his entire bloodline. Instead, your eyelids flutter open, and he doesn’t miss the spark of mischief hiding in your pupils.

“So what if I did?”

Yup. He’s insane. He’s mad, crazy, a fool. All the synonyms in the dictionary are not enough to describe the insanity crawling in his blood, in his heart.

“Pretend, peach,” he forces himself to say. “What would your brother say?”

“He’d probably say that he’d kill you, right?” you say.

Maybe he needed the reminder. Because Jungkook feels the insanity slip away, clearing his mind. 

“Oh,” he lets out, chuckling. “Definitely. As a matter of fact, I think I’m living on borrowed time now.”

You purse your lips. “So let’s pretend, right? Safer that way.”

He nods. “I really am sorry for that,” he says, meaning how he held you earlier. “I don’t know where it came from.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you say, smiling softly. “Just don’t ever do it again.”

He pouts. “Ever?”

You roll your eyes, slightly shaking your head. “Stop. Why are you such a shameless flirt?”

He wants to answer, wants to tease you more, but he doesn’t have time to as Jimin appears in the doorway, interrupting the moment. It pisses Jungkook off, and maybe that’s why he returns to drinking. Maybe that’s why the second everyone leaves, he wants you so bad he thinks he’s about to say fuck it.

Fuck what Taehyung would think.

“I told you,” you say to Jimin as he and his girlfriend get ready to leave. “Now I’ll sleep to the sounds of him throwing up.”

Jungkook hiccups, offense swirling through him. He raises a finger and says, “I’ll have you know.” He has to pause as everything spins around him, and he shuts his eyes. “I don’t throw up.”

“Yeah, yeah, Jungkook,” Sera answers, and Jungkook glares at her.

“Let’s just get you in bed before we leave,” Jimin says.

No. Jungkook doesn’t want to go to bed. He wants you, and he wants Lisa to fucking leave him alone. 

Why is he even thinking of her right now? You might be right - he thinks he’ll throw up before falling asleep.

“And tell Lisa to stop looking at me like that.”

The words are out before he can stop them, and Sera widens her gaze. “What?”

Jungkook frowns as he looks at you. Because you’re the answer to the question, but he can’t say that, right?

“I don’t know.”

“You’re fucked up,” Jimin teases before bursting out laughing.

As he laughs, Jimin pushes Jungkook on the shoulder. Jungkook was already unsteady, and he loses his balance, falling against the wall. He lets out a surprised, “Oh shit!”, and a second later, he collapses, soon followed by Jimin.

They’re laughing, the kind of laughter only alcohol can bring forth, so loud Jungkook can barely hear as you and Sera talk. The only thing he hears is you saying that Taehyung can hardly count as a good influence, which is the most accurate thing he’s ever heard you say.

“He’s not,” Jungkook agrees, thinking about how Taehyung forbade him to be with you. “Your brother is an asshole.” He pauses, and then bursts out laughing again. You don’t say anything, so Jungkook adds, “Can you help me?”

He does grabby hands motions at you, and you scrunch up your nose in disgust. “You can crawl to your room yourself, JK.”

He frowns, sitting up to lean against the wall as Jimin does so too. Sera helps Jimin up, while Jungkook just keeps staring at you.

“I’ll crawl to your room if you don't help.”

You smirk. “Alright, let’s see you try.”

Fuck. He glances towards your door, and then looks at you again. “Too far.”

You look victorious, your smirk stretching into a smile. “Then sleep on the floor.”

“Are you for real?”

You groan, rolling your eyes, but you step closer to him. Jungkook tilts his head back so that he can keep looking at you as you say, “We should have asked your friends…” You glance towards Jimin. “Your sober friends to help bring you to your room before they left.”

Jungkook lets you grab his hands. “Peach, I much prefer if it’s you tucking me in.”

You help him stand, and though it’s a struggle, Jungkook is soon up. He wobbles on his feet, and you hold onto his arm like you don’t want him to fall again.

“I won’t tuck you in.”

All Jungkook can think of is that you’re so, so beautiful next to him with that flush on your cheeks. He wants to touch you, to hold you, and he doesn’t have any inhibitions left. A second later, he cups your cheek, forcing you to meet his gaze. Your eyes widen, surprise making them sparkle, and fuck, he thinks he’s about to kiss you dumb, to kiss you until he’s never said you should pretend nothing happened.

“What are you doing?” you ask him.

Jungkook blinks once, slowly, his surroundings coming back into focus. He turns his head towards Jimin and Sera. “Shit, you’re still here?”

He’s stupid. Inherently stupid, and he can’t focus on Jimin and Sera as they leave. No, the second you step away from him and his hand hangs in the air between the two of you, Jungkook thinks he becomes deaf. Or maybe he’s just deafened by the thunderous beats of his heart. He only comes back to reality when you step in his line of vision, Sera and Jimin now gone.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Jungkook flinches as he meets your gaze. “What?”

“Now Jimin’s going to be unto us!” You motion towards the door before folding your arms on your chest. “I know you’re drunk, but you’ve got to fucking control yourself.”

“Hey, fucking chill out, will you?” Jungkook bursts, only because he’s done.

He’s done being yelled at, done always being the one in the wrong because he can’t do a single fucking thing right in his life.

You cross the distance between you and him as he leans against the wall, smirking at the sight of your anger. Because that anger is something he knows, something he can deal with. You stop right in front of him, finger pointed towards his face.

“Don’t tell me to fucking chill.”

“Or what?” he says as he tilts his head to the side.

“Or I don’t know, Jungkook.” You shut your eyes, letting out an annoyed sigh. “Don’t you care that Taehyung might be onto us because of Jimin?”

He huffs a breath, and you open your eyes. He plays with his piercings, his tongue then pushing on the inside of his cheek. “He won’t be. Why would he?” He blinks. “Because we’re hanging out? Nah, we did that even before he left.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Not like that.”

“Like what?”

You sigh again, your annoyance so stark he thinks he can taste it on his tongue and, damn him, it’s turning him on.

“Like we’re friends,” you say. “You touching me. All that shit.”

“I thought you liked when I’m touching you,” he says.

You stare at him unblinkingly. “Shut up.”

He raises his hands in defense, smirking. “Sorry. It’s hard to help myself when you’re looking at me like that, peach.”

“Like what?” you ask, echoing his previous words.

“Like you want me,” he murmurs, and he gives in to his desire, one finger tapping gently on your clenched fist, before slowly moving up your arm. “Like you’re mad I suggested pretending that nothing happened.”

“I’m not mad,” you reply, swatting his hand away. “I agree with the statement. He’s your friend, he’s my brother. We shouldn’t have fucked at all.”

It hurts. Jungkook doesn’t know why, but it does, and he feels himself growing bitter.

Feels himself needing to hurt you, too.

“See? I knew you saw the wisdom of it,” he says, and immediately hates himself for saying it as hurt flashes in your gaze. 

It disappears quickly, and you roll your eyes, gently patting his chest.

“Then stop. Fucking. Touching. Me,” you say, tapping on his chest with every word uttered, your hand then resting flat against his beating heart.

Everything in him concentrates on that spot where you’re touching him, on the feeling of your fingers on him, of your eyes in his, and Jungkook feels himself leaning infinitesimally closer. 

“You’re the one touching me right now, peach.”

He doesn’t let you move your hand away when you try to, putting his hand over yours.

“Let me go,” you breathe out.

He can’t. He really can’t let you go.

He doesn’t want to let you go.

“I really want to kiss you right now,” he whispers.

You step away, freeing your hand from underneath his. “Don’t ever tell me that again.”

He knows it’s going to happen. The look in your eyes tells him that you know it, too, despite the words said. 

“Why?”

“Just don’t.” You scoff. “You can’t kiss me, I can’t kiss you, we-”

Jungkook grabs your face, crashing his lips on yours before you’ve finished the sentence. Because he can kiss you. Maybe he shouldn’t, but he can, and he doesn’t want to hold back anymore. Not when you reciprocate the kiss in all its intensity, pushing him back against the wall.

He hits hard, breathing out the air in his lungs. You’re quick to push your tongue in his mouth, and Jungkook wants to feel you, to taste every inch of you…

But you’re stepping away, and he can’t look at you. Not when you’re everything he’s wanted…

Everything he can’t have.

“Don’t kiss me again.” You say it like you mean it, and then you walk away. He hears your steps, and he only looks up when he hears the door of your bedroom closing behind you, putting finality into the words.

What the fuck has he done?

Read chapter 6 here!

☆☆☆☆☆

our favourite chaotic mess in all his glory lmaooo i hope you guys enjoyed! Let me know what you think of the drabble<3

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

You and Eddie are enemies, you can't stand each other, but when you spot him with Chrissy in the woods you're forced to confront your feelings for him and the fact you'll have to hide it from him.

He hates you, he'd only make your life miserable if he found out.

Everybody lives, nobody dies Au, angst to fluff, jealousy and idiots very much in love. 18+ mdni.

❤️

You can hear Eddie before you see him as you walk into the cafeteria with your cheer mates. As usual, he's making a spectacle of himself at the Hellfire table, standing on it and calling out the marching band, basketball players and the party crowd.

Rolling your eyes at his dramatics you attempt to walk past the table but Eddie seeks you out, a smirk on his face as he focuses his attention fully on you.

"There's my favourite cheerleader" his winks at you and you stand your ground, ready for whatever shit he's about to say.

His purpose was annoying you, or at least thats what it felt like. It was always you that got his ire, who grabbed his attention every time. Honestly it was the same for you when Eddie was around.

It was like both of you were moths to a flame, something simmered between the two of you that you couldn't place or at least if you could, you didn't want to examine the cause too closely.

"There's my favourite dumbass" you fire back and he clutches his heart like you've wounded him. Ever since you and Eddie laid eyes on each other it was like you were magnets to the other.

Whenever your paths crossed there was tension in the air, banter exchanged that left both of you bothered and wanting more... Whatever it was between the two of you could wait for another day, you had cheer practice, prom committee and a bake sale to organise.

You did not have time for Eddie Munson today.

Not that he cares about your plans. He jumps off the table and lands right in front of you. Ugh. "Munson, I haven't got time for your dramatics today, go bother someone else"

He pouts and it's frustrating that he looks almost endearing while doing it. "How can I cope if I haven't been told to go kiss my own ass and the many other insults you've spouted at me just in the last week or so sweetheart?"

Here's the thing. You're certain Eddie enjoys arguing with you, gets some sort of pleasure from it. If you're being honest you enjoy it too.

"Oh bite me, you'll survive Munson" his eyes light up and then you hear a snigger from behind you, it's his sheeples or whatever he calls them, Dustin, Lucas and Mike watching the two of you fascinated.

"You say I'm oblivious, look at those two" Mike mutters and Eddie still overhears even though Mike has whispered it.

"What was that Wheeler?" Eddie narrows his eyes at him and Mike turns pink and looks suddenly very interested in his soda. You slip away from Eddie when he's distracted.

Both of you are rattled by what Mike said but you try not to show it as you walk away.

❤️

As the day winds to an end you're beyond relieved to just be going home, then you notice Chrissy walking into the woods instead of heading home herself.

Curious, you follow her into the woods, then freeze as you find out that she's meeting up with Eddie.

It's an awkward conversation at first but the tension melts away as Eddie and Chrissy are talking, he's goofing around to make her smile.

Throws himself backwards into a pile of leaves, asking if there is something in his hair, shy little smiles and hiding his face with hair as he talks to her.

There's a sinking feeling in your stomach, an aching in your heart that multiples when Chrissy giggles along with Eddie.

Seeing enough you stomp away, crashing blindly through the trees, there's wetness on your cheeks and you realise you've been crying. Crying over Eddie fucking Munson and the fact he was obviously smitten with Chrissy.

It wasn't a surprise, everyone was and to Eddie you were just an annoyance, someone who pissed him off and that was that. You always knew that but now the realisation was paticularly crushing.

You liked Eddie, like really liked him. Of all the guys you could fall for, why did it have to be the one who spent half his time thinking of new ways to irratate the hell out of you?

Couldn't you have realised this any sooner?

Shit if he even knew how you felt about him it would he horrid for you, he would never let you forget it and show you his disgust.

So it was settled. You would stay far far away from Eddie Munson, and his cute dimples and pretty brown eyes. They were nothing but trouble.

❤️

For the next few days you keep your distance from Eddie. It's hard though, because he seems to be wherever you are with that amused grin on his face.

You don't even entertain his stupid barbs, you ignore him for as long as you can, but he's growing more frustrated that you aren't your usual sarcastic self.

It gets to the point that you turn around during one encounter and glare at him, embarrassed as tears pool in your eyes. "Will you just leave me alone Munson" his eyes widen at your tears, you storm away before he can say anything else.

...

Eddie does leave you alone, you don't see him the next day which is a rarity.

It doesn't last for too long, you find him at his van talking to one of The Hellfire Members. He turns around and spots you, shooing his friend away.

"Will you talk to me" he sounds almost pleading and it throws you off balance. There's no way he missed talking to you is there?

"Why for you to rant and insult me, or make me feel even more shitty about myself,'" he reels back like you've slapped him.

"What? I don't... 'he trails off as you scoff and turn away from him.

"Yes you do. Not all time but sometimes you're just fucking mean. I guess because I'm and I quote "so bitchy and vapid''you think that it won't bother me" his face falls and he shakes his head.

"I shouldn't have said that. I was a mean douchebag" you look away from him stubbornly and shrug.

"Yeah well, I'm not sweet and perfect like Chrissy, everyone adores her" fuck you adored her, so no wonder Eddie liked her.

"What does Chrissy have to do about this?" He looks puzzled. His big brown eyes searching you for an explanation.

Flustered you explain what you saw. "You were all flirty and sweet with her the other day, when I saw you in the woods together, not that I care" you wince realising that you've gave away that you do care very much.

This was stupid. You were jealous of your friend and you shouldn't be. Having enough you decide to walk away but Eddie follows you.

"Chrissy wanted some weed for her and Jason, that's all, I'm not interested in Chrissy princess and she's definitely not interested in me". You're stunned by this, you never expected Chrissy to ever try weed and this stops you in your tracks.

"Seriously?" you gape and he gestures for you to sit in his van, opens the door for you as he does so.

"Why were you avoiding me sweetheart?" he asks you his tone very gentle. You feel your whole body flush with mortification as he stares at you, waiting for an answer.

"Please don't make me say it Eddie, you'll only turn around and be a complete ass about it"

Or be sweet like he is now and turn you down kindly, looking at you with pity. There's a brief pause and then his fingers interlace through yours, the feel of his calloused fingers entwining with yours sends tingles down your spine.

"Tell me"

"I have feelings for you okay. l've fallen for you badly, seeing you with Chrissy made me realise that. So now you know and if you're going to be a dick about it then do it now" your lip wobbles but you refuse to cry again.

He softens and cradles your head in his hands. The gesture is so tender and kind.

"Sweetheart, you're all I think about. Every single day from the moment I wake up until I fall asleep. Only you" he kisses you tenderly and pulls you close to him, kisses you until you're both breathless and smiling goofily at each other.

"I'm so fucking into you sweetheart, one of the things I talked to Chrissy about, if you stuck around long enough to find out"

Now it makes sense why Chrissy asked you earlier if you had talked to Eddie, looked disappointed when you said no, gently urged you to.

"You know he talks about you a lot" Chrissy grinned at you, there's a knowing look in her eyes, yet you shrugged off what she said. Figured that he only talked about how you annoyed him.

Shit you were such an idiot to not see what she really meant. So wrapped up in the idea that it was Chrissy that Eddie was smitten with. Chrissy would never let anyone talk crap about you either, you should have known that.

Eddie rests his head against yours. Kisses it briefly then a cheesy smile forms on his face. "You're crazy about me huh sweetheart?" he teases and you roll your eyes at him.

"Doofus, you're just as crazy about me" he squeezes your hand, tugs you back in for another kiss that robs you if your next words. That's fine, you could argue about that later... much much later.

💞

[hyunsvngs]

𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐦 - modern royalty au!lee felix x female reader

wc: 16.2k words (i’m sorry)

rating: 18+. MDNI

cw: felix and mc being dumbasses part 2, no use of y/n, again a vast use of sickeningly sweet petnames, MORE ANGST, MORE FLUFF, unrequited feelings (or is it), chan being a sweet but teasing older brother, feminist bang chan, smut warnings under the cut!

synopsis: it's getting close to your arranged marriage to your best friend, and you're getting more and more conscious of the guilt you feel that he doesn't know you love him. why can't you just be honest with him for once?

a/n: this is part 2 to my fic fairy flowers - thank you all for showing so much love :D I HOPE U LIKE THIS PART TOO

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: making out, use of petnames in bed (again), oral (f&m receiving), fingering (f receiving), felix talking u through it, dirty talk (not too graphic i swear), handjobs, cum eating, loss of virginity (both), maybe a slight breeding kink or a major one idk, felix crying cos it feels too good

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’d loved Lee Felix since the day you met him, and you were soon to be married to him.

It was something that you’d hoped would diminish with age, but the feelings only seemed to get stronger with every inch you grew in height. You dreamt of your sunshine the night after his brother - the Crown Prince - interrupted you two, the scent of baby’s breath filling your nostrils. It almost distracted you from the feeling of dainty fingertips traveling softly up your thigh to between your legs. It had, of course, been only a dream, much like any of your others about your best friend.

Other than your not-real sexual trysts, the pressure of becoming a Princess was heavily weighing down your mind. You wouldn’t be able to do all the things you used to do - gone would be lazing in the meadow on a Saturday, and you could probably forget about your book club altogether. You had little freedom beforehand given that Felix was a Prince, but that little freedom would be stripped away completely once you two were married. You’d be expected to appear by Felix’s side as an almost monarch, with a solemn but friendly expression on your face. You had to be careful, you had to be perfect.

Needless to say, you felt like a fucking fraud. There you were, completely and utterly in love with your best friend, and having to pretend that you were only pretending to be. You hoped this wasn’t obvious by your flustered facial expression while you sidled up close to Felix during your engagement party, dressed in all of your finery and feeling like a dickhead, to be honest. Felix had made sure that he had a tight yet comforting arm around your waist the whole time, a hand resting above your hip conservatively.

As if he hadn’t been making out with you a mere few hours before. That was something you hadn’t really addressed yet. It hadn’t been awkward, it had been far from it - you hoped that anything could make the atmosphere awkward between you and your prince - but you still felt guilty. You’d been going along with it, agreeing to it just being practicing. In reality, you felt like you were flying a bit too close to the sun, like that fucking Icarus guy in the Greek mythology tale Felix had forced you to read when you were still spotty teenagers.

“My lady?” You focused back on the man standing in front of you, Felix’s fingers digging into your side softly to bring you back into reality. He was some sort of noble, you weren’t sure of his name - he stood there with graying hair, a salt and pepper beard trimmed neatly and beady dark eyes staring at you. He didn’t even seem like a noble, really, more like a reporter designed purely to get information from both you and Felix.

“I’m sorry. What did you ask? I just got lost in my own thoughts. The excitement, y’know,” You mumbled in response, making Felix smile at the man in way of an apology. You tried not to play with the hem of your sleeves, another dress your mother had forced you in. You always thought you were of reasonable education, even having etiquette training, but you still felt out of place as the prince’s intended wife. The prince’s betrothed, even. You wished for a moment where you and Felix could be alone and more like yourselves again. 

“That’s alright, my lady. I was asking about your love. I’m just curious, when was it that you realized you were in love with each other?” The man cocked his head to the side. You were flustered, leaning further into Felix’s side. He was beautiful tonight, he always was really - and he was ever so eager to save you when you were in an awkward position. 

He did so at that moment. “I think we’ve always been in love. Just took a bit of thinking to notice it, right, sugarplum?” You blushed at the cringey nickname, elbowing Felix. The man chuckled at the display of banter and bid you both farewell, entering the crowd of bustling nobles. Felix’s statement weighed on your mind. You wished to believe that he meant it, that he loved you too. 

You turned to Felix, humming as you placed your hands on his shoulders. His shoulders were broad now, unlike the way they had been when you were younger and he was smaller, narrower. You brushed off nonexistent dust on his dark navy suit jacket, playing with the soft blonde tendrils of hair at his nape. He’d been placed in sophisticated wear not dissimilar to yours, a dark velvet matching suit with a white shirt underneath. “Thanks for the help, Lix. I’m really nervous, to be honest.”

“You should always be honest with me,” Felix gave you a toothy smile, his eyes forming crescent moons. “You’re doing amazing, you know that? I know it’s awkward for you, so I had an idea. How’s about… do you want to sneak into my room tonight? I have to speak to Chan about some stuff once we’re done here, but I was thinking we could make a blanket fort and just talk. Just us, like old times?”

You smiled at the memory. You and Felix, prior to it being frowned upon to be in each other’s chambers, building blanket and pillow forts and reading books draped over one another. Your mothers would both smile upon finding you two drooling in the morning, books still open and more often than not fallen on your face and giving you a sore nose the next day. You were still as enchanted by him as you were years before, staring at the constellation of fawn freckles on his face. 

“Of course, Lixie. I’ll be there.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You had a plan.

A plan to confess, actually. You’d never made such a brave decision in your life, not even those times you kissed Changbin when you were younger. You’d been studying, investigating, brainstorming - much like those detectives in the television shows Felix made you watch who stand with a board adorned with pictures and red string, going insane. You’d had an idea following the ending of the engagement party, and decided that you were going to recommend a book to Felix. It was an action that wasn’t out of the ordinary, and you had just the right idea. It would be a confession without being so explicit and embarrassing.

Following the party, you made quick work of your plan before your blanket fort date with Felix. Were you allowed to call it a date, now that you were going to be getting married? You decided you could. It was your turn to discuss a book for your book club, and you decided you were going to recommend Emma by Jane Austen. It was one you’d never discussed, and once you flicked through the few copies of the novel in the palace library, you were sure Felix hadn’t read it. His signature dog-earing of the old pages was nowhere to be seen in all of the pages you flicked through, so you tucked a random copy under your arm and returned to your room.

You hadn’t even read the book yourself, but you knew the gist from studying it briefly. It was a tale of multiple relationships between different characters, with a particular focus on a slow burn love that sprouts between protagonist Emma and her close friend Mr. Knightley. You hoped Felix would read between the lines and take notice of what you were trying to say when you handed him the book that night. You liked the concept of Mr. Knightley’s character - considerate, fond of Emma and had extremely high morality. He reminded you of Felix. Emma was nothing like you, however, apart from the fact that she made regular mistakes. That was exactly like you, you mused as you pulled your pajamas on to head to Felix’s chambers. This whole thing could be categorized as a mistake, but it was the boldest thing you’ve ever done and you knew Felix would be proud of you if he knew you were planning on doing it.

Or, he’d be absolutely scandalized. It was concerning him, after all.

You raised your hand up to knock on your Prince’s bedroom door, only to have the door swing open right in your face. The friendly, casual smile you’d plastered on dropped as soon as you laid eyes on him. He was dressed in a tight black tank top, joggers slung low on his hips and hair still slightly damp from a shower. You felt subordinate in a baggy hoodie - that actually previously belonged to Felix - and pajama shorts, a flimsy linen tote bag slung over your shoulder with a toothbrush and the copy of Emma laying inside. Your eyes were widened, staring at his almost bare shoulders, freckles littered all over the exposed skin. You hadn’t even put shoes on, for Christ’s sake, only a pair of fuzzy slippers with a baby chick on your feet. 

“Hey, sugarplum,” Felix smiled brightly, before his dark eyes flicked to your tote bag. His smile fell, focusing on the rectangular shape concealed by the linen. “Please tell me that’s not a copy of Princess Diaries. I can’t do it again, I’m sorry.”

You scoffed, pushing past him and throwing your tote bag on the bed. “It’s a fucking book, Pixie. For our club, remember?”

Felix let out one of his award winning giggles, throwing himself down onto his plush bed. His room was obviously more lavish than yours, and you took a second to take it all in, given that it had been so long since you’d entered the room. The sheets were soft - the type of comfort that was obvious just from gazing at them, and the four poster bed was adorned with a sheer beige canopy that hung over the bed frame. You tried to avoid looking at Felix as you spun around and stared, taking in the moonlight flickering in through the curtains. The room was lit only by two bedside lamps, giving it a cozy ambience and making your Prince look even more ethereal - if that was possible. His hair fanned out around him as he waited in silence. 

When you finally looked at him again, the signature Felix smile was plastered on his face. Dumb Felix comment incoming, you registered. “I have two issues with this current situation, sugarplum.”

You groaned, throwing yourself onto the bed. You made quick work and shuffled your slippers off, letting them drop to the hardwood floor unceremoniously and hiding your face in the pillow. You let one eye poke over the pillowcase as you looked at him, speaking, “and what would that be, your majesty?”

Felix elbowed you playfully at the quip before rolling over onto his side, his light blonde fringe taking up a lot of the beautiful face that you wanted nothing more than to stare at. “Firstly, it’s not book club day, which means all talk of books is strictly prohibited and also frowned upon. It is the agreed upon rules.”

“By whom? Who agreed to that?” You were teasing him, grinning into the pillowcase.

“Me!” Felix yelled. “And you. You established the rule! Secondly, you should be staring at me, your smoking hot fiance, not the room! You’ll have plenty of time to lay in this bed when we’re married, plenty of time to stare at the walls while we-”

“F- Felix!” You screamed, trying to push him off the bed with your feet, using all your body weight. He simply smiled at you cockily, pushing your feet off of him and widening his eyes to taunt you. “I- Don’t talk about us doing that! It’s… uncouth.”

“Uncouth? Were you thinking of us having sex?! I was going to say watching films together, but seeing as you’re so focused on what almost happened earlier…” You were lost for words as Felix stared at you, raising an eyebrow. You tried to stutter out a few things before just giving up, groaning in response to Felix’s giggle at your struggle. 

You jumped up from the bed, grabbing the pillow with one hand and hitting him with it. Felix squealed, kicking his legs out playfully. You avoided looking at the sliver of skin that was revealed through the action, courtesy of his loose-fitting joggers. You sighed. “Blanket fort, Pixie. It’s game time.”

After half an hour of you and Felix bickering over the construction of your blanket fort - he insisted on using the bed frame and the canopy to make it cozier, but you tried to explain you had nothing to use to attach his spare blankets to the frame. He quickly realized that you were, in fact, correct once the blankets fell off of the wooden posts and onto your head, blinding you with fluffy cotton - you were finally settled. You both laid wrapped up snug as bugs in the blankets, only your heads poking out as you stared at each other comfortably.

“Let’s sleep like this,” Felix chirped. “Burritos.”

You giggled, nuzzling further into the blanket wrapped around you. “We should’ve put a film on before we got all cozy like this.”

“No need, we can talk about the book you brought here. What is it you wanted me to read?” 

You blanched, staring down at the blanket. Felix’s head barely poked out of the fabric. He gazed at you as you struggled to speak yet again. “It’s- no book club talk. It’s not book club day.”

Felix rolled over and hit you in his blanket burrito, headbutting your chest softly. Now that he’d rolled over on the mattress, he was closer to you, almost nose to nose. You bit your lip, not noticing his eyes flickering down to your bottom lip. 

“It’s called Emma,” you began. “One of, um… Jane Austen’s books. It’s- It’s. It’s good. I just thought… you’d enjoy it, y’know? Then we can like, discuss theories, or something. Discuss the book. The characters. The plot. There’s, like- yeah.”

This had to go in the top three, if not the top of worst confessions ever. Felix was simply staring at you, nodding, letting you speak. He’d always been understanding. Okay, you thought. You can say it.

“There’s two characters that remind me of us. Emma, she’s um- the main one. She’s the main character, the protagonist, or whatever. Then there’s Mr. Knightley, he’s like… you. Like you. He reminds me of you, and then Emma would be me, and then-”

You were cut off with a chaste peck to your lips, your eyes remaining open and widening with shock. Felix pulled away with a smile. You didn’t even have enough time to process it before he was speaking again. He was acting like the kiss was normal.

“I’ll read it, sugarplum. Sounds really good! I mean, if that guy is like me, he must be really fucking hot, right?” He was smiling ear to ear, trying to encourage you by joking around. He must’ve noticed that you’d never been so shy to talk about a novel you’d found before. You were normally the one who spoke more between the two of you, gushing about all of the language analysis and plot devices you’d discovered. You even went so far to link it to historical context around the novel most of the time. This was different though, you’d used yours and his love language of books to confess and he’d have no clue until he actually read it. 

You briefly registered that you’d maybe made a mistake by doing this. First of all, you knew this could ruin your friendship. That was something you had actually considered, and you’d still decided to do it, because you were impulsive and nervous. That was by the by. But, now that you’d decided to give him this book, it meant that you had to wait until he’d actually read it and realized what you were trying to say - if he even realized, actually. Princes live very busy lives. Perhaps he wouldn’t even read it until after your wedding, in which case it was just plain fucking awkward. 

Wedding. It still hadn’t really sunk in for you yet, the fact that you would be a princess by marriage. 

You shut your eyes briefly, taking a deep breath. ��Anyway,” you trailed off, desperately wanting to change the subject. Felix hummed in response, going with the change of pace. “What did Chan- erm, Chris, want to talk to you about?”

It was Felix’s turn to get flustered, shifting awkwardly in his cocoon and repositioning so his head was on your chest, pushing you flat on your back. You pulled your arm out of your own blanket to rest on his head, stroking through the strands. “Okay, so you know my mother is abdicating before she gets too old?”

“Yeah, it’s just a matter of time, really. Palace gossip has been running wild since Chan got married.” You felt awkward addressing Chan by his Korean name - it always felt too personal, but Felix didn’t react, simply nodding against your chest. 

“Well, the Queen isn’t the only one who’s abdicating,” Felix began. His head was still on your chest, as if he refused to look you in the eyes. Was he insinuating…? “Um, yeah. So, Chan is abdicating so that his wife can rule her own kingdom, something against two heirs being married and both being monarchs. That means that I’m gonna be the King, so then you’ll be the, um…. Queen Consort. I didn’t want to- well, no, I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want you to be scared off.”

“I’m not scared.” You really fucking were. 

“You should always be honest with me,” your Prince chirped again, a familiar phrase. He shifted onto his forearms, chest looming above yours and his face mere inches from your own. You stayed cocooned in your blanket, your one arm hanging out and still positioned uselessly on his head. “Are you scared, sugarplum? It’s a lot of power. I understand if you’re scared.”

You sighed. “I guess I am, maybe a little bit. But I’ll be okay with you by my side, Pixie. I suppose I’ll be fine being your Queen,” You tried to joke, grinning, but the look in Felix’s eyes was anything but amused. He stared at you with his facial expression showing nothing but timidness. Your smile fell and you blinked owlishly at him, jaw dropped. “I- Sorry, was that not funny?”

“That’s… shit, sugarplum, that got me fucking turned on?” Felix admitted, his eyes darting down to his crotch concealed by the joggers and the blanket. You gasped, your eyes following his own as if you’d be able to see his naked cock through the layers of clothes. “I think it was the Queen thing.”

“The Queen is your mother, Felix.”

“Don’t- Don’t ruin the mood,” Felix groaned, throwing himself down so he was lying on top of you, chest to chest. “I meant like, you being the Queen. ‘M gettin’ all hot because of that. Sorry, sugarplum.”

Oh. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Felix’s cheeks were blazing while he pushed the blanket down to his waist with his right hand, fanning himself with the left. “Just you like, I dunno - being mine? You being the Queen? Yeah. That does it for me. Shit, it’s so warm in here. Are you warm?” He was still wrestling with the blanket, starting to grab yours in frustration. Your sunshine Prince was looking shy, and he rarely got shy. He rambled when he was shy. You wanted to save him from his awkwardness.

“Um,” You stated, rather intelligently. Good start. “I guess. Yeah. I’m warm. Do you want to like, maybe… practice? The wedding is soon, Pixie.” It wasn’t for another few weeks, at least. They were bringing the marriage forward, previously for an unknown reason to you. You knew after Felix’s explanation that it was because the Queen was planning on giving up the throne to Chan, who would then abdicate, leaving Felix to be the heir. She clearly wanted you both to be married before Felix took the throne, and you assumed the whole situation would take a lot of paperwork and celebratory parties.

You quickly registered that you wouldn’t even be able to sneak off and get drunk with Changbin at the parties because you were now officially a public figure. Shame. It was probably the only thing that helped with your nerves.

Still, you were now feeling the tell-tale fluttering of butterflies in your stomach and a growing tingling sensation between your legs at the idea of your best friend being horny while in the same bed as you. While on top of you, actually. You wanted to punch yourself in the face.

Felix went still on your chest. “I mean, that is actually such a great idea. Maybe my stupid brother won’t walk in this time,” He didn’t even look at you. “Actually, we should probably stop talking about my family members right now.”

“Yeah, you should shut up, Lix,” you chided him, trying to lighten the mood. You tried to seem false-intimidating, but you couldn’t even do the false part given that you were still half wrapped in a blanket. With a soft ‘hey!’ and a quick scolding tap to your ankle, Felix was shifting again, moving so he was looking directly at you. Your Prince, you thought, staring into his dark doe eyes and following the slope of his button nose down to his full lips. 

You wondered if it was strange, what you two were doing. Chan hadn’t really acted like it was - he had teased you more than anything, but isn’t that what big brothers do? You wondered if anyone else had ever been in this situation, in love with their best friend and completely aware of the fact that they were taking advantage of the situation by being able to kiss said best friend.

You decided you didn’t care, especially when Felix was shooting forward to press those full lips against yours and immediately keening softly into the open mouthed kiss. This was something you knew how to do, considering you were making out earlier that same day. Was that weird? It had only been a few hours… Were you insatiable? Yeah, probably.

Felix did well to distract you from your racing thoughts, his dainty hands going up to your jaw and gripping softly. You always thought his hands were well matched for someone of his status - small and delicate, but when clad with rings they looked to be nothing but powerful. You let out a soft sigh when his tongue started to dance against yours, hands going up to rest on his shoulders. You loved the feeling of his lips against yours and decided you’d never get sick of it as you returned the kiss with just as much energy. You let your hands slide up to his hair, pulling softly at his mullet. 

Felix liked that, apparently, since he groaned softly in his deep timbre into the kiss before pulling away. His chest was heaving and flushed crimson with a blush that showed over that fucking black tank top. 

He looked shy again. “I want to touch you, like, in that way,” He blurted out, your eyes focused on the expanse of skin showing on his chest. You glanced up at him, seeing him biting his lip. “Is that strange? I mean, we’ll have to do it when we get married anyway, right?”

You nodded, shrugging your shoulders and trying to act nonchalant. “I guess we would’ve ended up doing it earlier anyway,” Felix smiled, more confident at your agreement. “I just don’t really know what I’m doing, Pixie.”

Felix cooed, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks and squishing them together. “That’s okay, sugarplum. Neither do I, to be honest, but I’ve been researching.” He hadn’t done anything like that either? Had he… he hadn’t waited for you, right?

You immediately wanted to change the subject, not wanting to be disappointed. “Researching?”

“I asked Chan,” Felix admitted, his cheeks pink with embarrassment. You scoffed, kicking his leg softly with your foot. “Hey! He ‘bones’ a lot, you said it yourself-“

“No talk about family members, remember?” You chided, smiling. You felt so relaxed with him - as you always had up until your recent love crisis - and you decided that if you were going to do anything sexual with anyone, it had to be Felix. Your Prince. You wriggled out of your blanket burrito, kicking your legs out triumphantly once you were free of your confines.

Felix did the same, pushing the rest of his blanket off and letting the fabric fall around his feet. He looked at you, smiling fondly and shifting so he was comfortably on top of you, your legs slung over his hips. He licked his lips. “Mm, come here.”

With a swift move forward, your Prince was kissing you again, this time with a renewed intensity. His lips were almost harsh against yours, but the fullness made up for his aggressive nature. His hands went up to your hips, pushing up the fabric of your shirt and his thumbs rubbing circles. Felix breathed heavily into the sloppy kiss you were sharing, and you shifted impatiently as you wished for more.

He was getting antsy too, something you noted when his mouth separated from yours and instantly pressed against your neck, licking and biting at the skin but making sure not to leave any marks. You couldn’t have people believing you’d had sex before marriage, of course, but you still whined the same as if he was giving you a million marks and claiming you as his. You thought about earlier, when you’d been caught by Chan. What would have happened if you kept going?

“We- Lix-” You were cut off with your own whine when Felix’s teeth nipped at a particularly sensitive spot on the crook of your neck. “We can’t have- Lix, fuck, listen to me! We can’t have sex.”

Felix’s head poked up at that, his eyebrows raised in shock and amusement. “We’re not going to have sex. Jesus, you just want to jump straight into it, don’t you-”

“No! I meant that we can’t have sex until the wedding. You seemed to be getting pretty excited, so I thought I’d just remind you,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and trying to shift away from him. He didn’t permit this, his hands pulling you back to your old position by your hips. Your mind went blank at the show of dominance.

“We’re not going to have sex, duh. I want to touch you. I said that, didn’t I?” Felix was giggling again, flicking your forehead as a way of teasing. You frowned, and Felix immediately pulled his hands away from your hips, resting them in your hair instead. “Is that okay? Do you want me to touch you, sugarplum?”

He was asking for consent. You didn’t think Felix had ever asked you if it was okay if he did anything. Then again, this situation was different, and you smiled softly at the reassuring question. Of course you wanted him to touch you. You thought someone would have to be blind to not want Lee Felix to touch them. You personally wanted his hands touching intricately all over you at every second of every day. “I- Yeah. I want you to touch me.”

At your consent, Felix gave you a quick smooch to your nose and started to kiss down your body. He didn’t remove your shirt, only pushing it up at the hem so that it rested just underneath your tits. You’d foregone a bra for comfort, but you were quickly regretting it when you saw the hard peaks of your nipples poking through your shirt. This didn’t go unnoticed by Felix, and he grinned against your tummy when his eyes landed on your nipples, reaching up to brush his thumbs over the sensitive buds teasingly. You moaned softly in response, a high-pitched, embarrassing noise - but Felix seemed to like it, if the kick of his hips against the mattress was any indication.

“Never fucked anyone, you know that, sugarplum? Wanted it to be you,” he breathed out against your tummy, button nose nudging at the top of your underwear and bottoms. You squirmed, sighing out loud. “Wanted it to be you, always. But you’re so fucking…”

You almost forgot to reply when his teeth grazed against the fabric, heavy breathing now being spilled over your core. The sensation was hidden by the two layers of clothing, but it sent shockwaves up your spine just the same. He looked to be going insane, hair mussed with sweat and darkening the strands to a milky coffee shade while his eyes were blown wide with lust. His mouth was slightly open, exasperated, pouty rose lips permitting the erotic breaths of air to escape from his lungs. They rang off the walls like church bells, incredibly pleasant to your ears, juxtaposing the precariousness of your situation. “S-So what? Felix, just… please…”

“So fucking oblivious,” Felix whispered. His thumbs found themselves yanking both layers down at once to expose your dripping hole, clit swollen and throbbing, aching for the touch of your best friend. You felt yourself blush while he took you in, a deep groan rasping through the air at the sight of you wet and needy for him. Only for him, you thought, legs spreading wider to let him get a better look despite your embarrassment. He was looking at you in your entirety, eyes tracing a path over your labia and down to your twitching hole. He was murmuring incoherently, his jaw dropped in shock. “You’re so wet, sugarplum. Jesus, you’re so fucking wet, what the fuck?”

You groaned, throwing your arm over your face to hide. “Lix, shut up. It’s not like I can help it. You were kissing me, and- and stuff.”

“And you think your bestie is so totally hot, yeah, I get it,” You huffed again at the comment. He was getting closer now, breaths warming up the wet slick that had accumulated around your bottom set of lips. Your hands dropped to your sides, gripping the sheets awkwardly as if you didn’t know where exactly to place them. “I’m gonna taste you. That's okay, yeah?”

You nodded, shifting around impatiently once again. He let those small hands go up to hold your hips down, the show of power once again going straight to the pit of your tummy. The feeling was meant to be reserved just for your dreams, but here Felix was, reenacting everything that you’d tried to push to the back of your mind. 

Just as you hit that realization, Felix was shooting forward once again, delivering a fat lick up the middle of your core. He groaned as he tasted you. His precision was anything but perfect, but he was eager, licking through your folds and cleaning you of all of the sweet dew that had accumulated there. He pressed a soft kiss to your clit, those plump lips wrapping around your button and giving it a quick suck before he pulled away. 

Felix swiped his middle finger through your folds, groaning in that deep voice as you got wet despite him just cleaning you up with his tongue. “You taste so sweet, like fucking sugar. I knew there was a reason why I was calling you sugarplum.” 

You whined when his finger breached your hole, immediately curving upwards to find that spongy spot inside of you. Chan had told him how to do some good things, you’d muse afterwards - but your brain was too fuzzy to think about anyone else when your best friend reattached his lips to your clit and sucked hard. You wondered if his finger would reach so deep inside of you, given his small hands, but he had clearly hit the exact right angle and pressed on it just as he sucked. Your hands went down to his hair gripping harshly. You didn’t realize just how hard you were yanking the strands. “Mm, fuck- more, more, please-“

Felix hummed in response, his tongue swirling around your clit while he continued to suck. You writhed and whimpered out loud, not caring of who heard you. That was something you’d also consider later, when your brain wasn’t so foggy with lust.

Looking down at Felix between your legs, you wanted to paint that image onto your eyelids so that you saw it every time you blinked. His hips were still kicking up a fuss against the mattress, small, aborted thrusts as if he was a bit too embarrassed to do it fully. His hair was messy from you grabbing onto it, something that made you retract your hands immediately. His eyes were practically rolling back into his head as he tried to keep his eyes on you to see your reactions, and his free hand was still pinning your hips down to keep you from moving too sharply away from his ministrations. He looked beautiful, as he normally did, but even more so now - your Prince looked thoroughly debauched. You hadn’t even touched him. You couldn’t wait to touch him.

You quickly noticed that just the image of him was making you hurtle closer to the edge. You’d felt this before, of course, many times when you shoved your hand down your trousers in your way of settling down to go to sleep. This was stronger, though. Every cell in your body felt like it was igniting with white hot lust, your toes were curling as you tried not to squirm and your jaw was dropped, unabashed moans and whines tumbling out. Your hands subconsciously went up to your tits, yanking the hem of your comfy t-shirt up and pinching the buds of your nipples harshly. 

“Lixie, please, just a bit more, I’ll-“

Felix let go of the button between your legs with a wet smack, keeping his finger moving rhythmically as he came to lie next to you. His free hand moved from your hip into your hair, pulling you to face him. His eyes looked to be trying to figure out where they wanted to look - darting around your pussy, your fingers tweaking your nipples or the euphoric expression on your face. “Can you cum just from my finger? I want to see you when you cum. I want to see you when it’s all me, just me doing this to you.”

You whined, nodding as your hips started to pick up, thrusting into the rhythm of his hand. You briefly thought of how embarrassing this was - cumming from just your friend’s finger inside of you, only one finger at that, but you decided that was just the effect Felix had on you. “Yeah- yeah, I can cum from this, fuck- aah! Lixie, Lixie, please!”

“What are you begging for, sugarplum? I’m here,” He kissed your face, peppering small pecks all around the expanse of your flushed skin. He had positioned his hand to grind his palm into your clit. “I’m here. I’m all… I’m all yours.”

He seemed hesitant to say that, but it worked its intended effect anyway. You gasped and hurtled into an almost silent orgasm, but as if expecting a loud, nosy climax, Felix’s lips instantly attached to yours. Your toes curled as the bubble finally popped, so to speak. An euphoric sensation took over your body, beginning from the pit of your stomach and feeling as though it traveled all the way to the tips of your hair. You whimpered softly into the kiss, your hands gripping onto Felix’s wrist as he steadily slowed down his pace.

Your chest heaved with exertion. You were acting as if it was you who had done all the work, cheeks flushed and legs feeling stiff. You groaned as you stretched, your arms above your head until you realized Felix was pointedly staring at your exposed tits. Your nipples were still hard, perking upwards and Felix was almost salivating. A quick look down at his crotch revealed he was still sporting an extremely rock solid erection that looked fit to burst out of its confines.

“Was it… good?” He was licking his lips while he asked you. He wasn’t even looking at you; still staring at your tits with hunger in his eyes. You blushed, nodding. 

You motioned at his erection. “Do you want me to…?”

Felix blinked owlishly. He had that deer in the headlights facial expression again. “Yeah. I mean, if you want to? ‘M really fucking hard, sugarplum, and if I’m honest, my dick will hate me forever if I force it to enjoy my own hand again, y’know-“

You shut him up with a kiss, giggling into his lips. A darting of his tongue into your mouth made you taste yourself on his lips, and you moaned, sucking on his tongue filthily. You had a burst of confidence then, as if it had only just hit you what you were doing. Your hand went down to his length and gripped it firmly through his trousers.

“Jesus, you are hard,” you stated, shocked. Felix choked back an embarrassed giggle, simply blushing and nodding with the teasing of a smile on his lips. “I’ll… yeah. Can I take these off, Pixie?”

Felix nodded eagerly, making you smile fondly at him. Rather than allowing you to take them off yourself, his hands were pushing at his joggers and wrestling them off in one go with his boxers, quite like he’d done with your clothes. He flipped you both over, positioning so you were on top of him with him laying on his back. You tried not to notice how you still weren’t wearing anything on your bottom half and your t-shirt was barely covering your pussy.

You instead focused on the skin newly revealed to you. He’d shucked his tank top up so his abs were exposed to you - those fucking abs. You thought you’d get over seeing him shirtless once you weren’t sixteen and hormonal anymore, but the tell-tale clenching of your pussy when you looked at his body told you otherwise. Your eyes went down to his length, chestnut hair trimmed neatly above the shaft and his cock resting against his tummy, hard and leaking. You felt bad for what you’d put him through minutes before. No wonder he was grinding against the mattress.

Taking initiative, you wrapped your hand firmly around the base of his cock, pumping twice in quick succession.

“Fuck-“ Felix was whining immediately, hips canting off the bed. He yanked you down next to him by your free hand, your legs slung over his thighs and your head right next to his. He wasted no time, grabbing your head and bringing you in for another kiss. 

You tried to focus on kissing your Prince back while you stroked his cock, but you knew you were kissing him very badly. He didn’t seem to mind, just breathing heavily and whining into your mouth. His voice had shifted several pitches higher. It was so fucking hot to you.

“Mm- sugarplum, tighter as you get to the tip- and- and… hnng.. use the, um, the precum to make it wet. ‘Kay?” You smiled, nodding at his instructions. You knew you weren’t brilliant at it, knew you hadn’t done research like he had, so you appreciated the tips he gave you. You swiped your thumb over the head of his cock, through the slit, and dragged the wetness down to his shaft. The pumping sounded wetter now, a slick noise that was simultaneously pleasing and distracting to your ears.

“God, can you spit on it? Sorry, sugarplum, just feels really good when it’s wet,” Felix whispered. He looked embarrassed and horny at the same time. It looked fucking amazing on him, you thought, as you spat in your hand and returned it to his length. He immediately shot his hips up, toes curling into the sheets and his jaw dropping. “Oh God, yeah. Like that, Jesus, you’re good at that.”

“I’ve had a good teacher,” You rested your head on his shoulder, staring down at your own hand pumping his length quickly. He was leaking precum steadily, adding to the mix of the already leaked substance and your spit on his cock. You wanted to taste it.

Before even processing what you were doing, you were shifting again, settling between his legs.

“What are you-“

You sucked the tip of his cock into your mouth. The precum tasted like nothing, really, but it had a slightly salty aftertaste that wasn’t unpleasant. Felix’s jaw dropped in a shocked moan, his hand going to your hair and pulling on the strands softly. 

“Shit, I won’t last long,” he admitted. You simply hummed and sucked harder, bobbing your head on his tip. You could’ve sworn you were meant to use your hand too. You had seen porn, after all. You reached up, squeezing the rest of his shaft and pumping it along with your hand. “Sugarplum, oh-!”

Felix moaned and bucked his hips up, stammering and trying to stutter out sentences. You weren’t sure what he was trying to say, so you assumed it was blabbering in the throes of passion and continued. 

His fingers linked into your hair then, pulling your head off of his shaft. You blinked at him, hand resting still on his cock. 

“Sugarplum, I was going to cum in your mouth.” 

You frowned. “That’s the point, and you say I’m the fucking dummy-“

Felix sat up, pushing you down into the mattress once more and sitting between your legs. You tried to ignore how his cock was so close to your pussy, rather unsuccessfully as your core gave a betraying clench and leaked another rivulet of wetness. “I want to- sugarplum, I want to cum somewhere but it’s literally so weird.”

You tilted your head to the side in confusion. You reached down and gave his cock another few pumps. “Tell me, Lixie.”

“God- I want to cum on your pussy. Is that weird?” 

You pulled away and sucked your thumb into your mouth, cleaning it of the fresh precum. Felix groaned at the sight and started to pump his own cock, pushing your shirt up again to expose your tits. His eyes immediately settled on them as he waited for your response. You didn’t even need to consider it. “Do it. Nothing’s ever weird between us, right?”

Felix nodded quickly, moving closer to you and positioning his cockhead above your clit. It rubbed against your button teasingly, making you squirm and writhe underneath him.

“Shit, be careful, sugarplum. I could slip inside,” He leaned fully over you, kissing your neck. He was breathing heavily into your ear now, making you play with the swollen buds on your tits again. “Could… could slip inside, and fill you up, and-“

“Y-You could. Can. Please.” you whined, wiggling again.

“No, no, can’t. Fucking can’t, not yet. Fucking want to- fuck- fuck-! I’m g’na…” He was panting, barely able to get words out that weren’t littered with profanity. You shuddered. 

“Cum, Lixie, c’mon. I’m yours, all yours.”

You hadn’t even noticed what you’d been babbling in response, but his body seized up and you felt hot stripes of white cum shoot from his cockhead onto your clit. He was loud through the orgasm, swearing and whining in a high pitched tone. You were making noise too, little noises as if you were shocked. The warmth of his cum on you was erotic, yet weirdly comforting. Strange. Maybe it’s because it was his, like he was marking you as his territory.

“Shit,” Felix panted, flopping down next to you with a loud sigh. “Shit.”

“Shit.” You agreed.

“That was fucking good though, right?” He turned to you. You looked at him and noticed he looked like he needed some validation, eyes soft and vulnerable. 

“Um, duh. It was amazing, Lixie. Thank you,” You smiled. “We should get cleaned up now though.”

Felix nodded, as if realizing the urgency of the situation. He darted around the room, using a small face towel to quickly wipe his softening cock and then he threw it at you for you to wipe yourself. It landed on your head unceremoniously, blinding your vision as the blanket from the blanket fort had done. You groaned. Felix giggled. Of course he did.

“Um, your underwear is still… wet. I’ll grab you a pair of my boxers, okay, sugarplum?” You nodded, slightly embarrassed. You made quick work of wiggling the boxers he threw at you up your legs, yanking your t-shirt down to cover yourself. It didn’t bother you being so uncovered in front of him, just like it didn’t bother you wearing a pair of his boxers. You’d done all of this a million times before - just not after doing… what you just did. You couldn’t even fathom saying it, not even in your head.

Felix switched one of the bedside lamps off on his way back into bed, a hairband pushing his hair back and a fresh pair of underwear on. He wiggled underneath the quilt, putting himself back into a cute burrito and gazing at you expectantly. You sighed, kicking the hand towel onto the hardwood floor and wiggling into the blanket with him. It was like you could read each other's minds in situations like this.

“Yay, sleepover,” He chirped quite happily. You let out a small laugh. It didn’t feel awkward. The relative silence was comfortable. You couldn’t wait to marry him, your best friend, your Prince. “I guess Chan told me some good things then, huh?”

“Oh my God, shut up,” You giggled. You let your face fall, giving him a serious look. “It was alright, I suppose.”

Felix gasped theatrically. “Take that back! I’m a master at it already, I know it.”

“You’re not a master if you had to ask your fucking brother-“

You huffed as Felix wrestled you to the bed, pinning your arms down and tickling your skin. You squealed when he hit your sides, thrashing around and trying to kick him off of you.

You hoped that you were right, that it could never be awkward, not even after he read the book and knew you were madly in love with him.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You stood on the day of your wedding two weeks later wearing a dress that had been worn by the Queen to her own wedding, many years earlier. You were grateful that the Queen had trusted you with her own dress, showing how much she approved of you, you supposed. It had been altered by one of the palace tailors so that it wasn’t too old fashioned, but still, the feeling of the satin against your skin reminded you of the many memories the fabric held. 

They’d fast tracked your wedding to your best friend and it was a lot sooner than you’d hoped. You hadn’t seen Felix in a full week, due to him being preoccupied with wedding plans himself, and the only hint you’d had that he’d still been thinking of you was the bouquet of baby’s breath flowers that were dropped off to your chambers earlier on that day. You’d decided that would be your wedding bouquet. You didn’t even know if he’d read the book you recommended, if he’d even realized what you were trying to say.

The anticipation was killing you. Your dress was an off-shoulder beauty, a tight form fitting design that clung to your figure and flared off into an a-line hemline. It was conservative nonetheless, a bright shade of ivory that was almost blinding along with your mother’s necklace that she’d insisted you wear. She was fussing with your hair while you stared into the mirror. You weren’t displeased at what you saw, but you still felt a bit fake, like you weren’t meant to be the one standing across from the nation’s favorite Prince in the next hour. 

Your mother sighed in frustration at someone entering the room, because your head spun to face the intruder and forced her to promptly drop the ornate clasp she was holding. Chan stood there, holding a box of chocolates with a cheerful smile.

“I come with a gift for the bride,” He chirped, placing the box of chocolates on the small coffee table of your dressing room. It was a spare room in your designated section of the palace that had been repurposed just for the day. You wanted to slap Chan because he reminded you of Felix, and more importantly, the fact you hadn’t seen Felix. You shut your eyes and pursed your lips, reminding yourself that it really wasn’t Chan’s fault. When you opened your eyes, Chan was motioning to the bouquet of baby’s breath on the table. “You got Felix’s flowers then.”

“Yeah, and no sign of the actual Felix,” You sounded petty, and you knew it. Even your mother scoffed at your statement as she fled the room to do something else - probably flitting around in panic, trying to get the tablecloths at a perfect angle. Chan laughed at you nonetheless, sitting down on a chair and still grinning at you. You pulled the off-shoulder sleeve up self consciously. “Have you seen him much? Is he okay?”

“Eh, not really. When he’s not preparing for the wedding, he’s had his nose in that book you gave him.”

“Huh?!”

Chan’s smile dropped, looking at you with confusion. “Well, yeah. He always reads the books you gave him. Why’s that a shock?”

“B-Because… no. It’s not a shock, just- I don’t know.”

Chan hummed. “Today’s probably got your head feeling fuzzy, I don’t blame you for feeling weird.”

“Yeah.”

He came behind you and you stared at him in the mirror. He kept his distance, but was smiling at you cheekily. He shoved his hands in his pockets in a nonchalant manner. “I mean, I’d probably be nervous too if I was in an arranged marriage with my best friend. Especially if my best friend also didn’t know that I was madly in love with them.”

Your eyes widened. How did he…? Okay, no. It was probably super obvious to everyone apart from the actual love interest in your life, to be honest. Instead of berating him, you did actually stomp your feet in anger. “Okay, well. The book was sort of my way of confessing. There’s two characters who are friends that fall in love, and I told him they reminded him of us. It’s sappy, I know-”

“‘S not sappy at all,” Chan cut you off. “I think that’s really fucking sweet, to be honest. I’m not entirely sure he’ll understand what you’re trying to say, though. He’s oblivious like that.”

“And he said I was oblivious,” you muttered. Chan’s head tilted to the side, as if asking you to repeat yourself louder, but you simply shook your head. “I’m going through with it.”

“Well, yeah, I know you are? You’re standing there in a wedding dress?”

“It’s going to be awkward when he knows. I’m regretting everything.”

Chan shook his head. He stalked across the room, placing his hands on your shoulders comfortingly. “Nothing could ever be awkward between you two. Who knows? Maybe he even feels the same?” 

You groaned in distress. “He doesn’t feel the same, Chan. Shut up.”

Chan shrugged. “I mean, how would I know, anyway?”

You blinked at yourself in the mirror as Chan left the room with no further comments. How would he know? Um, maybe because he’s his fucking brother?

Wait.

You sighed, ridding yourself of the thoughts in your head. You had to leave now, to walk down the aisle, given away by your mother rather than your father and given away to your best friend. You didn’t have time to consider what Chan was saying. He was being fucking cryptic and annoying. 

It was all backwards. It shouldn’t have felt right, but it did, weirdly enough. You’d been freaking out about it all day. You had been told by your mother to wear heels with your dress, and although they were only simple white kitten heels, if anything, you still teetered precariously on them and had horrible thoughts about flying ass over tit on the aisle in front of everyone. Felix would laugh. Hell, Chan would probably cry laughing too, but you’d be actually crying of embarrassment.

Your mother returned shortly after Chan left, and she had clearly given up on your hair. It had decided today of all days to be classed as an unruly mane, and so she’d tried to clip it up with some clasps but your hair just hadn’t obeyed. She huffed, brushing through it and letting it hang limply over your shoulders. It was your wedding day and you felt like a pig with makeup on. You sighed, pulling the veil over your face while your mother linked arms with you.

You looked at you both in the mirror. Even with your face obscured by the sheer veil, you were both so similar. Similar in height, similar in stance. 

“Are you ready, dear?” 

You felt tears welling in your eyes. “No. I don’t think I am.”

Your mother sighed, her fingertips brushing down the hair that she could access. “I know. I promise you, dear, everything will be just fine. You and Felix will always be fine, no matter what.”

You knew she knew. You knew she was trying to comfort you, despite knowing. She’d always been like that. Even when you’d been getting up to no good with Felix and his friends as kids and you ended up crying and throwing a tantrum upon being caught - she still comforted you. She was your mother, your inspiration. 

You nodded solemnly in response to her statement, and she smiled a comforting smile on her face that was so similar to yours, yet weathered and aged like the books you and Felix enjoyed flicking through. She must have so many secrets, she must have known and seen so many things - yet she was still by your side, because you’re her daughter. You were grateful she was ignoring her job duties to comfort you and make sure you were feeling decent enough for the wedding. It had always been the two of you, after all.

You were led out of the dressing room by your mother, her arm wrapped around yours and her dressed elegantly, similar to you. She looked better, more comfortable in her own skin and more important, demanding authority everywhere she walked. You hoped you’d become even a fraction of the woman she was one day. 

She led you down to the hall where the Queen normally took court, repurposed for the reception. You assumed everything would be taking place there, but then she was leading you out to the palace gardens and you were astonished. It was like having your wedding in a forest, beautiful greenery everywhere and the sound of soft tinkling music coming from a piano. You were being taken down the aisle before you even registered what was happening.

The guests all stood up politely, turning to look at you. A few of them even looked in awe, and you really hoped there was a God who would prevent you from falling flat on your fucking face as you walked down. Your sweaty palms clenched onto the plastic paper of the baby’s breath bouquet, crinkling under your touch. You were just staring at the crowd, jaw dropped rather embarrassingly. 

Your mother spoke to you in a hushed whisper. “Smile, dear.”

They can’t even see my fucking face through this veil, you thought, but you smiled dutifully anyway. You noticed people starting to murmur, and you could’ve sworn you heard that people were saying how elegant and regal you looked. You wanted to scoff. Fat chance. You still felt like a peasant being forced to marry a Prince in a medieval show, or something.

Your eyes finally landed on him. There he was, your Prince, standing at the end of the aisle underneath a wooden wedding arch covered in forest green vines and baby’s breath littered all over the structure. You almost forgot how to breathe, and almost did fall on your face. He looked amazing. Well, he always looked amazing, but even more so on that day. The greenery made him look like some form of faerie prince. They’d dressed him traditionally, a white shirt with frills on the sleeves being exposed just underneath a black suit jacket. The frills went all the way up to his neck, clasping tightly beneath a silver chain necklace. Most importantly, on top of perfectly tousled blonde waves, a crown full of ornate jewels sat. You really did forget how to breathe, then.

You smiled softly at Chan and Hyunjin, stood on Felix’s side as his best men. Hyunjin looked beautiful, as he always did, straight out of a magazine. He wasn’t a patch on your Prince, though. You chided yourself mentally for that. It’s not as if you’d kick Hyunjin out of bed, it’s just that you’d now had, erm… bedtime activities with Felix and knew that he was a sex-god. Sexprince. Whatever. On your side, where you were meant to arrive, Chan’s wife stood as your one and only bridesmaid. You didn’t have many real friends in the palace, only Felix really, and she’d been fucking ecstatic when you had asked her to be by your side at the wedding. She didn’t have many true friends either, it turned out.

Before you knew it, you were standing across from Felix, eyes gazing into eachothers.

He mouthed a sentence, a simple “you’re fucking beautiful”. You’d slap him later for swearing at your fucking wedding. Seriously, he needed to have some respect.

The wedding officiant - another random noble - began to talk at that moment, now that everyone had sat down and settled. Your mother was staring at you with a kind smile on your face. You avoided her eyes. She’d pissed you off, but you weren’t exactly sure what she’d done this time. Maybe it was her being so nice. Maybe it was because everyone kept mentioning the fact you’re in love with Felix. “Repeat after me, I, Lee Felix, take you…”

You honestly zoned out, staring at your Prince. He didn’t even seem to be listening either, but you’d gone over this part in the wedding rehearsal. You knew what you had to say to solidify the marriage, but in all honesty, your mind was on what you’d have to do afterwards to consummate the marriage. Having not seen him for a while, your hand had become acquainted with the inside of your knickers rather frequently, and you’d come apart way too many times to the thought of him to be considered normal. You wondered if he’d done it, too.

In your train of thoughts, you almost missed that it was your turn. “Ah, sorry,” you mumbled, making everyone in the audience chuckle. You even heard a faint ‘the Princess is cute’, making you feel flustered and want to throw your shoe at whoever said it. You got on with your speech. “... f-for richer, for poorer. Um. In sickness, and in health, to love and cherish always.” It felt like you’d been reading it off a script. In all honesty, you kind of had been - you’d been staring at the space behind Felix and squinting to remember what had been written on the piece of paper placed in front of you so many times.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

Don’t use that fucking tongue, Lee Felix, there’s children present, you thought. He, as if reading your mind once again, leaned forward and pressed a chaste peck to your lips, lifting your veil before doing so. You smiled, satisfied, and he took your hand, leading you out of the ceremony. The reception would be straight after, a gathering of people of high status drinking expensive wine and doing that stupid fucking laugh they do. You couldn’t say much - you’d been educated and instructed to do the exact same.

Only one thing was on your mind though, amongst the cheers and applause of the public at their favorite Prince getting married. You couldn’t help thinking that this was the beginning of a union, so why did it feel so much like an ending?

Once everyone was seated, you sighed and began to pick at your food in front of you. It was some posh recipe made by the palace cooks - everyone sitting in the reception was eating the same thing, and seemed to be enjoying it a whole lot more than you were. The whole room was decorated similarly to outside, green vines and flowers hanging everywhere from potted plants. Felix sat next to you, thanking everyone who wished you both well. 

“I want to apologize, sugarplum,” He began, eyes staring at the plate of food in front of him instead of you. “I haven’t had a chance to read the book you recommended. You know, with all the preparations and stuff.”

Wait. What? Someone’s fucking lying here. Was it Chan or Felix? To be fair, you hadn’t had much time to do anything else either. But Chan had told you that Felix had his nose in that book all the time, and Felix was intensely avoiding eye contact with you now. Unless…

Oh, fucking hell. He read the book, knew what you meant and is choosing to expertly say nothing about it - because he doesn’t feel the same. He wants to just act like nothing happened. You felt tears brimming in your eyes. It’s not that you didn’t expect this outcome, because perhaps a small part of you did, but it still fucking hurt your heart nonetheless. A large part of you had hoped for something cheesy, like a large declaration of love and you two running to each other in the meadow and maybe him spinning you around in his arms or something.

This was reality though, not one of your romance novels. You blinked to try and destroy the tears in your eyes, before giving him a smile. “That’s okay, Pixie. I’ve been busy too, I get it.”

Felix held your hand under the table, clenching it tightly. He was smiling ear to ear. “‘S fucking sick though, right? We’re married now.”

You tried to return his energy. He’d sounded absolutely gushing, full of happiness, practically over the moon. “Yeah. So fucking cool.” You sounded devastated.

Felix glanced at you quickly with concern, his eyebrows furrowed. Before he could manage to say anything, Chan and his wife were standing in front of the table, looming over you. It was intimidating. She looked beautiful, dressed in a tight floor length pastel blue dress. It matched Chan’s own blue suit, and pastel blue had been your intended color for your bridesmaids dresses, had you had more than one.

Chan clapped his hands together. “So, we are excited for tonight?!”

You blushed, turning to Felix. He looked just as shy as you for once. His eyes were widened and he was finding the white linen tablecloth very interesting all of a sudden. Chan’s wife slapped him on the arm, grumbling about having etiquette. “I’m so sorry about him.” You found it funny, their dynamics - you followed Felix around like a lost puppy, whereas Chan’s wife seemed to have him on a tight leash. 

In reality, it was extremely fucking daunting. You found yourself still nervous, even when the festivities had ended and you were standing in your own chambers. It all felt too formal. You hoped that in another lifetime you and Felix would’ve been able to do this whole thing at a more casual pace. Maybe you even would’ve been able to lose your virginity to him before you got married.

You were greeted with a white slip of chemise laying on your bedsheets when you returned. You knew you’d be expected to wear something like that but it still shocked you, and you stared at it as if it was an illegal piece of evidence for a solid few minutes. It was delicate, the satin between your fingers, a perfect juxtaposition to what you’d be doing in less than an hour. You took your wedding dress off quickly, laying it out on the bed and putting it on the hanger. You wondered if your matching white lace underwear would be okay for Felix, before realizing that it was actually a miracle that it was even matching.

Once you’d slipped the chemise on, you stared at the mirror next to your armoire. You looked at yourself in surprise. It actually looked good, and you’d chosen to leave your bridal leg garters on. The dress met your legs mid-thigh, meaning the garter on your left leg was about one gust of wind away from being exposed. You thought you were meant to leave it on anyway, that you were meant to have your newlywed husband take it off for you in a sign of like, possession or something. The whole thing was so fucking medieval to you. 

Slipping your coat over your shoulders, you decided to forego proper shoes and just slipped your white sandals on. Well, they were white, until you and Felix had commenced a full on wrestle in the meadow one day and now they were permanently stained beige from your efforts of planting your feet in the mud to punch him. Playfully, obviously. He still whined when you did it as if you’d battered him black and blue.

Stalking over to your Prince’s chambers, you realized something. Soon, probably in the next few days, you’d have to move all of your things here and then you’d be living with Felix in the palace. It would be both of your chambers, not his. The thought made you feel giddy with excitement but it also made your head dizzy with confusion. You weren’t sure what you wanted anymore. You were in love with him, sure, obviously - but you didn’t know how long you could keep up the facade if he wasn’t about to address that fucking book you gave him in all of your bravery.

You stood there awkwardly. Were you meant to knock? Surely you were meant to knock. Or maybe you just open the door. You’d be moving in soon, anyway, so it would make sense if-

The door swung open in front of you. “Oh, hi! What a nice surprise. How long have you been-”

“Just got here, like, this second,” You grumbled, arms crossed across your chest. Felix laughed behind you as you pushed past him into the room, clearly knowing that you had been standing there for a solid minute just staring at his bedroom door. You turned around when Felix pushed the door shut. He was wearing just pajama shorts and a t-shirt. You wanted to scream. Maybe you weren’t even meant to wear the stupid fucking nightgown. He’d clearly dressed for comfort. 

“Why are you wearing a coat? It’s summer.”

You blanched. You looked down at the coat. You’d have to take it off eventually. “Okay, don’t laugh.”

Felix nodded. He was already holding back a laugh, and you could tell by the stifled look on his face. “Not gonna laugh.” 

“You so are,” you huffed, unzipping your coat and letting it fall to the floor. You scrunched your eyes shut tightly, waiting for the impending cackle to come from your best friend. You felt like an idiot. You’d walked in here, all dressed up to the nines like some fucking prize for him to unwrap, and you’d been met by him in his comfy pajamas. Not even the nice, princelike pajamas! 

After a moment of silence, you opened your eyes. Felix was staring at you, jaw dropped and a visible tent in those stupid shorts. Any sign of a smile had disappeared from his face.

Your brain was working at 100mph, deciding to have a severe case of word vomit. “Okay. So, this was on my bed. I’m assuming Chan’s wife left it there or something. I don’t know. I didn’t… I wasn’t sure if I should wear it. I feel really stupid now, and you’re staring, Lix, so can you just say-” 

You were cut off by his lips against yours. He was pushing you backwards onto his four poster bed with ease, moaning deeply into the kiss. You squealed with surprise, hands going up to his hair to try and keep yourself steady. Once he had you situated on the mattress, Felix was immediately in between your legs, bunching the fabric of your nightgown up in his fists and his tongue dancing around your mouth. 

You hummed, spreading your legs wider to accommodate him. You found your lips sucking on his tongue in a filthy kiss, much like the one you’d done weeks prior before his head was between your legs. You desperately hoped he would do it again. His plump lips were harsh against yours, his hands traveling everywhere across your body as if he was trying to be able to draw your body by memory after this. 

Felix pulled away, breathing heavily. It seemed he really enjoyed kissing, because after everytime you kissed he looked fucking debauched. His hair was scrunched up everywhere - courtesy of your hands - and his chest was heaving. “Trying to- fucking hell, sugarplum. Trying to fucking kill me, I swear,” You giggled. He liked it. He liked the dress. You felt like a thousand rocks had been lifted off of your back. Felix smiled back at you, letting out a small laugh and shutting his eyes as if he realized the severity of the situation. His eyes opened, looking down at you. They were a deep brown, blown wide with lust. “I- Jesus. Do you want me to fuck you? We don’t have to, y’know-”

You shifted, bringing him back down into another heated kiss with a hand on the back of his neck. He moaned, his hands going to grab your nightgown again. This time, his hands went further down, sliding up your thighs and then he positively keened into the kiss. 

He pulled away again. “Tell me you’re fucking joking.”

“H-Huh? Joking about what?” You sat up on your forearms. Felix yanked you closer to the edge of the bed by your hips, moving backwards with you and landing on his knees. You squeaked in response. He was sitting on the floor, right in front of you as your legs hung over the edge of the bed. His hands went up to your nightgown, pushing it up, and you finally realized what he meant. The garter.

Felix groaned, loudly, so loud you were worried that everyone else would be sending noise complaints to… well, who? They’d probably just pass an angry note under the door in the morning if anything. His button nose went to your left thigh, nuzzling into the lace garter. He was breathing heavily, harsh puffs of air being spilled all over your skin and making you feel warm. You squirmed, feeling ticklish. 

Felix looked insane. He looked like he’d thoroughly lost his mind, all over you arriving at his bedroom door in a satin nightgown and a bridal leg garter. He looked up at you, his eyes dark and vast, as if he was looking for approval, licking his lips. You didn’t know what he was looking for approval for, but you nodded anyway. His teeth immediately bit into your garter, catching the skin just a tad and making you whine. He dragged it all the way down your leg, spitting it out on the floor before his head was back between your legs, licking fast stripes over your clothed core. The dress obscured his head just a tad, making you feel like you were doing something you shouldn’t be.

“Lix-” You whined, spreading your legs wider. He moaned against the fabric, using his hands to push your legs up and against your chest, to where you dutifully held them up for him. You had no idea why he’d made you do that, but all of a sudden, your underwear was shifting to the side and his middle and ring finger were sliding into your wet hole. It was all so fucking fast, you couldn’t keep up - your brain felt ten steps behind. “Aah- hnng, fuck, Lixie, so quick, Jesus- a- ah-”

“I’m sorry. Need- need to make you cum, so then I can fuck you,” you nodded at his words, hips canting into his hand. Felix stood up, sliding back on the bed to loom over you as he finger fucked you. You’d never had two fingers inside before, but God the stretch felt amazing, and it had you wondering what it’d be like when he finally got his cock inside of you. “I’m sorry. Wanted- wanted to go slow, shit. You’re driving me fucking insane, sugarplum. We don’t have to- we don’t gotta-”

“I want to, God- I want you to fuck me so bad, Felix,” you moaned in a high pitched tone. You were almost embarrassed about the way your words came out, but Felix was smiling, curving his fingers to hit your g-spot.

“Yeah? Do you want it that bad, sugarplum? Thank God, because I can’t wait to make you mine.”

You nodded eagerly, trying to wiggle your hips to get some stimulation on your clit. Felix shifted then, his palm rubbing up against your clit like he had done before. “I’m- I’m already yours, Pixie.”

Felix groaned, a deep groan that came straight from his chest. His fingers went faster, his palm rubbing your clit sloppily and giving you barely any friction. It was enough though. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer. He’d started to actually suck marks into your neck, something you knew you’d have to cover afterwards but you didn’t care so long as he kept bringing you this insane pleasure.

When he shifted again, bringing his thumb up to rub your clit more precisely, you dropped your legs and whimpered. You couldn’t focus on anything, head dizzy at the biting pleasure that was mounting and mounting up and bringing you close to your climax. He was so good with his hands. You wanted to feel him finger fucking you everyday, and a sick part of you reminded you that you could now. You were his legally, married, you were his wife. 

Felix let your legs drop and came up to nuzzle at your earlobe, biting it softly with pearly teeth. You were babbling again now, hips canting rhythmically to meet his thrusts. “You getting close, sugarplum? You get nice and squirmy when you’re close.”

“Y-Yeah, yeah, gonna- g’na, yeah, g’na cum-“ You managed to stutter out. Felix simply hummed, and kept his rhythm the same. His thumb continued to swipe precisely over your swollen bud. That combined with the dainty fingers inside of you made you whine, and you grabbed the back of Felix’s head to kiss him as you came.

You moaned into the kiss, him dominating your mouth while your eyebrows furrowed and you let go around his fingers. He moaned back, feeling the slick from your pussy coat his digits and making the thrusting in and out much more slippery.

“Got so wet just for me, sugarplum. Mm,” Felix slipped his fingers out. You almost short circuited and died when he sucked them into his mouth, letting out a puff of air through his nose while he licked them clean. He giggled at your facial expression. “‘S sweet, sorry. You still wanna… do more?”

Felix giggled again when you nodded eagerly, a sweet chime of happiness. You were happy to please him. You wanted to fuck him anyway, because you weren’t blind and could see how fucking hot the Prince was, just like the rest of the nation could. 

Felix was laying by your side, nuzzling your cheek when you spoke. It was probably the most declarative, decisive thing you’d said in a while. “We need a condom.” 

Felix’s head shot up. He was looking at you with a guilty expression. “Um… I don’t have any, you know, heirs and all that.”

You hummed, saying “that’s fine” just as he said “kidding, lol”. You wanted to berate him for saying the word ‘lol’ out loud, but you were more taken aback by the fact you were fine fucking your best friend raw and hadn’t even put a second thought into it. 

“That’s fine?!” Felix shrieked. “I was kidding! I totally have condoms, I was just winding you up-“

You punted him in the shin, sitting up to wriggle your nightgown off. It successfully distracted him and he went quiet, staring at your tits confined in your bra. “Get a condom then, Pixie. There’s nothing stopping you.”

Felix gulped, audible in the room. He was still staring at your chest. “Well, now that you’ve said it, I’m kinda thinking about fucking you raw. It’s hot.”

“Fuck me raw then?” You shrugged. Felix looked like he was about to die. He immediately shot up, wriggling his pajamas off. His cock sprang out of its confines, even more hard than it had been two weeks ago - if that was even possible. It was leaking just like it was before though. Without another moment to think, he was back on the bed, hands tracing shapes on your thighs. 

You managed to unclasp your bra and flick it off to the side, and he was on you instantly. His mouth was wrapped around the bud of your right tit, sucking and making you moan. You tried to shift out of your underwear while he was occupied and he conveniently shifted upwards to allow you to do so. 

With red raw lips from the suckling, Felix pulled back. “I… Please? Can I?” You nodded, spreading your legs. He took in the sight of you again with your pussy on display and groaned, pumping his cock a few times before positioning it at your entrance.

Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt. You’d heard horror stories of women bleeding on their first time and even feeling like they were being torn open, but all you felt was a bit of an uncomfortable sensation when he pushed in. It was a stretch obviously, but you found yourself wanting more of the feeling as soon as you experienced it. You could feel the stretch it gave your walls, wet core stretching to accommodate his length. He gave you a second, giving you kisses around your face in anticipation as he bottomed out. 

Felix wasn’t faring too well, by the looks of him. His cheeks were flushed red beneath the fawn freckles and his lips were wet, as if he’d almost been drooling. He hadn’t moved yet, only just buried to the hilt inside your sopping wet hole, but his eyes still brimmed with tears at the pleasure.

“That feels… sugarplum, oh, please.” He whined.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. You pecked his lips fondly, before pecking both of his flushed cheeks. “C’mon. You can move, Pixie.”

Felix immediately started grinding his hips at a slow pace. It was inexperienced, but the speed worked to make you feel a little bit more open and pliant for his cock to bully inside of you. It hadn’t really hit you yet, that you were losing your virginity to your best friend who you’d also just married. That could be because of the immense pleasure you were feeling, or maybe because Felix looked so fucking beautiful whining on top of you. Fuck, if the feeling wasn't heaven, just because it was him - you were getting fucked by your best friend and you knew you'd able to come back for more.

You moaned as he jolted into an extremely sensitive spot inside of you, making you clench your walls around him. “Oh G-God, yeah, like that. So good.”

Felix nodded, chest heaving. He positioned his hips so that he was thrusting directly into that spot, still at a slow pace but just deep and hard enough to feel fucking amazing. “Good? There? Is it- am I… am I good for you?”

You blinked. You took just a second too long to respond as Felix’s newfound submissive nature registered in your brain, and you smiled, brushing your fingers through his hair. “Yeah, s-so- ah- such a good boy for me, Lixie. So good.”

Felix’s hips stuttered at that, him wanting to go faster but not knowing if you could take it. He was terrified, worried about hurting you since he knew of horror stories, too. He also knew that it felt so fucking good that he could cry. He was about to cry actually, you’d noticed, his eyes watering just a bit more with every thrust. 

His abs rippled above you with exertion at every thrust, his legs pinning yours to rest either side of his. He leaned down, kissing up your neck as he started to pick up the pace just a tad. His hair fanned out around him as he breathed heavily, eyes scrunched shut. He looked ethereal. He was clearly trying not to make too much noise, but deep moans and whines were ringing out when it felt especially good. "God, not gonna last long, sugarplum, I'm sorry-"

"Don't apologize, Pixie. F-feels really good for me too," You moaned out, stretching your legs out further. You just needed it a bit deeper, just rub your clit a bit and you were sure you wouldn’t need much else. He was staring down at your core, where his cock was entering and reentering you at a steady pace. "Mm, Lixie?"

"Y-yeah?" Felix responded instantly, head raising to look at you. He looked as if he wanted to stop to check you were okay, but his hips had a mind of their own, pushing back and forth into the wet hole you'd provided willingly for him. His eyes were nearly rolling back in his head.

“I need… can you rub my c-clit, please, need- need it, need it to cum around you,” Felix nodded eagerly, groaning. He used one hand to reach down and rub your clit. You thrashed your head around in response, letting out the most guttural moan you ever had. “Oh, oh yeah, so good for me- hnnf- I’m not gonna last long!” He kissed your nose in response, heavy breaths and moans panting right into your face and only doing more to turn you on. He was beautiful, perfect, and all for you. He was listening so well, caring the most about your pleasure and the way you wanted him to do it.

All of a sudden, his pace picked up, his hips moving in a frenzy. You whined when you felt it, hand going down to his abs in an effort to get him to slow down. It felt way too fucking good, his fingers still rubbing your clit. “G-Gonna cum with me, my Queen? God, please cum with me, need to feel it, I-" Felix was stuttering now, his head thrown back as he tried to keep a solid rhythm on your clit. You decided not to address the title he gave you. You also decided not to address how fucking wet it made you. “Sugarplum, my Queen, fuck, where do I- can I- inside?”

You moaned, feeling your orgasm building up. You pressed further into his hand and length using your hips, gripping onto the sheets behind you with your hands. His eyes were watering as he waited for your response, hands gripping your hips.

"Yeah, yeah, inside- in- inside, Lixie. Pixie, Pixie, oh God, you gonna cum in me? You gonna give me an heir?” Felix moaned loudly at your words, his hands clenching you tighter. You were babbling, going on and on about him letting go inside of you. He was loving it, hanging off of every word, tears now coming from his eyes at the pleasure.

“Yeah, ‘m gonna- Gonna fill you up, sugarplum, mine, mine, gonna- gonna- fuck, ‘m gonna give you an heir, gonna make you full of me-“

You whined out, clutching onto his arms and pushing back against his thrusts. “S-So good for me, Lix, gonna cum-'' You groaned, clenching down on his length one last time and positively exploding around him. You felt it all get wetter between your legs as his hips halted, pressed firmly against your asscheeks. His cock spurted ropes of white inside of you, making Felix let out a loud groan.

Felix collapsed on top of you, making you let out a “hmph” at the added weight. You let out a small laugh nonetheless when he started nuzzling into your neck like a cat, very nearly purring and smiling into your skin. 

There were a few moments of silence before he decided to speak. “That was like, so fucking good. I’m g’na need that everyday, mmkay?”

You shook your head, grinning. “Should’ve never given it to you. Now you’re gonna want it all the time.”

“I just want you all the time,” he whispered. “Love spending time with you.” 

“I…” You began, flustered. Felix was looking at you with pure admiration in his eyes, his now softening cock still inside of you. It was weirdly comforting. “I love spending time with you too, Lixie.”

“Mm, good. You’re stuck with me now, sugarplum.”

You fell asleep naked that night, cuddling your best friend after getting cleaned up and talking about the meaning of life. He hadn’t mentioned the book, and you weren’t sure if you were relieved or upset about it. It felt right, being in his arms. He was giggling, happy, poking fun at you when you said something stupid and kicking you playfully when you teased him. It felt domestic, like you were meant to be together in bed after sex for the rest of time.

You wished you could allow yourself to do it more often, but you just had no clue what he felt for you anymore.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You woke up next to your Prince, freshly married and freshly fucked. You let yourself laugh internally at your own joke before realizing the actual situation.

You’d fucked your best friend. More importantly, you and your best friend had just lost your virginities to each other and you’d loved every fucking second of it. What the fuck were you supposed to do now? You couldn’t even look him in the eyes during this, after moaning his name while he pummeled his cock inside-

Okay. You needed to wise the fuck up. You also needed to get out of Felix’s room, fast. You had to run. You’d never run from Felix before, but with the anxiety mounting in the pit of your stomach and your head feeling like you’d been dangled upside down for hours… yeah, no. You needed to go.

You shot out of bed, looking at your Prince still tucked up in bed. He was letting out deep breaths, not quite snoring but obvious he was still deep in his slumber. You felt guilty for leaving him, but you were due a long advice session with your mother. You hadn’t heard from her or seen her, apart from the note she left you on your bed with the chemise dress.

The same chemise dress that you’d now have to wear back to your mother’s room. You sighed, pulling the material over your head and slipping your shoes on. You’d worn basic white sandals over, and had thankfully worn that oversized coat, so it should hide you from judging eyes. 

You looked at Felix again. You felt so fucking guilty. He looked so beautiful in bed, quilt pushed down to his hips now and showing off his body. The sunlight was blaring in through the curtains and highlighting his abdominal muscles, and you just wanted to bury your face in his tummy and bite hard. You shook your head. You needed to speak to your mother. You were driving yourself insane at this point.

You scurried over to your mother’s chambers, thankful that it wasn’t too far from the Royal Family’s side of the bedroom wing. You’d always been placed close together. You did get a few confused murmurs from staff in your direction, but a quick scathing look from you had them shutting up immediately. Perks of being a Princess now, you supposed. People needed to mind their fucking business though.

You raised your hand up, knocking one knock, and three quick ones after. She’d known it was you from the knock, and the door swung open almost instantly. Her face gave away her surprise to see you at her door so early. You immediately crumpled, throwing yourself at her chest and sobbing.

“Oh, dear. Oh, no,” She soothed, stroking your hair. She led you into her room and sat you down on the chair, kissing your forehead. You felt immediately a bit better upon being in her company, but you couldn’t shift the guilt that you left. You’d done it for yourself, but when did you ever do anything for yourself? Apart from marrying Felix just so you didn’t have to see him with anyone else. You’d done that and disguised it in your head as being so that he didn’t have to marry someone he didn’t know, but in reality, you’d been selfish. It had fucking backfired in your face massively. “You… consummated it, I assume?”

You groaned at your mother’s words, reaching up and almost tugging your hair out of your scalp. “D-Don’t wanna talk about it. I need to… I can’t. I fucking can’t.”

Your mother sighed at your language. She kneeled in front of you anyway, placing her hands on your knees. “It’s a bit too late for that, I’m afraid.”

Sniffling, you tried to blink your tears away. It was of no use. They were tumbling down your cheeks freely like the summer rain you and Felix used to dance in when you went to your meadow. You groaned internally. Could you just not think about him for five fucking seconds?

“I… I’m not upset I married him,” you whispered. Your mother nodded, waiting for you to continue. “I think marrying him was one of the greatest things I’ve ever done. I also think it was the worst. I’m… I’m in love with him, and I tried to tell him, and… I just can’t process it. I can’t think straight. I need to get away, just for a bit, just so I can get over my feelings-“

“Going away is not going to rid you of the love you have for that boy, my dear. Things like that are eternal,” Your mother was firm, but soft. She hummed, looking at a space on the wall behind you before nodding. “How about you go and visit your dad’s brother? Your uncle? You’ve not seen him in a while, and it wouldn’t look out of the ordinary at all to go and visit family in the next town after getting married.”

Trust your mother to always think of the way the public would view it. Her job duties still ensured she was a diplomat in every case. You looked at her, in her eyes the same color as yours. It was a good idea. “That’s… yeah, okay. I’ll pack a case and I can go today. Is that alright?”

Your mother smiled again, her long nails going to scratch your scalp. “No longer than a week, my dear. Is that okay?”

She was approving of it. She must understand. You wondered if perhaps your mother had been in a similar situation years ago where she was in a catastrophe and needed to get away. She seemed understanding, and she was telling you what you needed to hear. 

You wiped your eyes once more, giving your mother a quick hug before returning to your chambers. You managed to find a large duffle bag that you hadn’t used for years. You struggled to remember what you had even used it for before, before realizing you've used it to smuggle alcohol out of the palace and to a party. Made sense, because now you were using it for another bad fucking decision. It seemed to be all you did.

You shoved a few items of clothing in there, chucking your barely used phone and your charger in there too. Just in case he tried to call, you told yourself. As if you’d pick up anyway, you never used the fucking thing. Quickly getting changed into something more presentable and comfortable for the bus ride over, you slid your shoes back on and slung the duffle bag over your shoulder.

This was it. You were fucking running, like a coward. A part of you knew a week wouldn’t be long enough to rid you of a lifetime full of love for your Prince. A part of you still wanted to try. Seeing family would be the cover - you would actually be seeing family, but you were thinking of it as more of a mental health retreat than anything.

Padding softly out of the palace grounds, you gave a soft wave to the guards posted at the front. Luckily, they didn’t question you. You got a confused facial expression but you simply walked out, making your way down the street to try and find a bus stop.

You almost stopped when you heard quick footsteps behind you. You’d know the sound of those footsteps anywhere - you’d heard it enough times running up and down the palace trying to find you, or trying to run away from you when you were playing some dumb game. You shook your head. Not now, not fucking now. It’s too soon.

“Hey- wait!” It was Felix. You sighed, picking up the pace and dragging your heartbreak along with you. It was hurting you to leave your best friend, your only love, the one that had you enchanted by something a lot more complicated than fictional magic - love. You reassured yourself mentally that you just needed a week, just a few days to process everything and hopefully try to sedate your feelings.

“Jesus, when did you become a fucking athlete, oh my God sugarplum, stop running so fucking fast! Please, just hear me out!”

You stopped dead in your tracks. His pleading always got to you, and you were met with puppy dog eyes you knew you’d see when you spun around to face him. He was dressed casually, baggy sweatpants clad on his legs and a loose hoodie almost falling off one bare shoulder, exposing the freckles littered on his skin. He hadn’t even put proper shoes on - he stood in front of you in sliders. No wonder it had been so hard for him to keep up, you thought, rather pettily. The fucker hadn’t even put shoes on.

You huffed nonetheless, crossing your arms over your chest. “What is it, Felix?”

“I- I just wanted to tell you something,” he bent over, trying to catch his breath and putting his hands on his knees. You wanted to roll your eyes, but he still had you under his spell, and you felt sorry for him. Why had you been running so fast? Why didn’t you just slow down and let him catch up? “I… I know it’s hard. I roped you into marrying me, and it clearly upset you so much you wanted to leave, and I understand that. But then, the book you gave me, the fucking book! And… I know it’s difficult, I know you’re mad at me especially since we had sex, but I’ve been feeling this for like, ever, and-”

You blushed, arms dropping to your sides. “Lix!”

“I just wanted to say that…” Felix huffed, finally returning to his standing position and running a hand through his hair. His hair was wet with sweat, no doubt from running to catch up to you and in his thick clothes. You felt guilty for even wanting to leave. You knew you wouldn’t even be gone long, a week, max - but Felix was nothing if not dramatic. “This is so fucking hard to say, sugarplum. I had a whole thing planned, a big one. That’s why I never mentioned the book. But then you left.”

“God, Lix, will you just get it out?! I don’t have forever-”

“I’m in love with you.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

taglist: @moasworld . @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad . @queenofthegardengnomes . @boomfrogg . @hoeinthehouse . @msaddictions . @sunnyhonie . @hizliyuruyen . @jyu037 . @jouoy . @drhsthl . @seungincore . @jellylver . @veedoesntknaur . @meloncremesoda . @k-poplv . @livieloo914 . @fekixfmp . @fawnpeaks . @minnielvr . @imastraykidsfan . @hanjisung2023 . @hoelynecujoh . @kyrviu . @sxgeofprohets . @everydreams-penumbra . @chaneomma

[cherryblossom-heart]

Could you love me one last time? (B.B ModernAU!)

Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Masterlist

Summary: It was inevitable, everyone else around you could see it. You and Bucky Barnes were meant to fall for each other. Unfortunately you were also meant to break each others hearts. You left, he stayed and you thought that was it, until a wedding made you come back to face the past you left behind.

13.1 k words

Content warning: ANGST, toxic 'situationship' between Reader and Bucky, heartbreak, alcohol comsumption, +18 SMUT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT Bucky and Reader sleeping with other people while they have their situationship going on.

A/N: It's been a long time since I posted. Ik I teased this a long time ago but life got in the way and I forgot about it but now I'm back with this so I hope you guys like it. You're welcomed to send me an ask with any comments, questions, etc., you have on this 😊

Post dividers by @firefly-graphics

Peggy’s dress was surprisingly beautiful. The first time you had seen it in pictures, the dress up in a hanger, you had thought of it a bit ugly to your liking. The long, slight puffy sleeves, the plain A skirt, and the square neckline made for an overall boring piece of fabric, and when she had asked you over FaceTime what your thoughts were, you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. But now, as she walked with a smile on her face to her soon-to-be husband, you were happy you kept your mouth shut. It wasn’t the dress or the makeup or the hairstyle that made her stunning, it was the love and care in her eyes. It was the happiness in her face whenever she looked at Steve.

Just as she reached the end of the aisle, taking her place next to you and the rest of the bridesmaids, a pair of familiar blue icy eyes caught your attention. Bucky looked good, you could admit to yourself, even after not seeing him for the past almost six years, it seemed that time had just made him even more attractive. He no longer was the youthful, long haired and clean shaved guy that had once dared you to see who could fit more grapes in your mouth, accidentally spitting one to your face as he tried not to choke with them. The traces of his fuckboyish persona were long gone too, instead replaced by a seriousness you had only seen on certain occasions. This Bucky was no longer a boy that enjoyed playing with feelings and breaking hearts; this was a man. A man that looked slightly older had light wrinkles and shorter hair that came with a slight beard. This was a Bucky changed, mature.

This Bucky wasn’t the one you had left behind when you moved away.

His eyes stayed on you during the whole ceremony, and you couldn’t help but stare back at him.  For years you had wondered what you would do if you ever saw him again, you wondered if things would be awkward, or perhaps he would act as if nothing had happened, as if both of you hadn’t ended up with a broken heart that night. A part of you thought it would still hurt as it did almost six years ago, maybe the anger would still be there and it would end up with both of you avoiding each other as much as you could. You saw a hundred scenarios running through your head all through your seven hour flight, but you never considered this one.

You never expected he would be so direct, or to look at you with such intensity. You were sure that after all this time he would have already forgotten about you, leaving your memory buried in the back of his mind as he easily replaced you with some other girl. Yet the way his eyes screamed for your attention made you think otherwise, a deep-rooted desperation washed over them, and you understood what he said.

“I’ve missed you.”

You weren’t the only one to notice it. Once the party started and the bride and groom were going around tables greeting everyone, Natasha, Wanda, and Pepper dragged you to the venue's private dressing room to drill you with every question they could think of. You were thankful Peggy was too busy with her new husband, or else the interrogatory would’ve been ten times more exhausting.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Have you guys talked?”

“Are you going to talk to him?”

“Why is he looking at you like that?”

“Do you still love him?”

And that was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? Did your heart still belong to James Buchannan Barnes? Was your heart still yearning for the tumultuous yet passionate and ultimately toxic relationship that had ensued between both of you?

The answer to all of that was yes and no. You didn’t miss the person you had become at the end of your "relationship," if you could even call it that; you didn’t miss the fights, the crying, and the resentment. You didn’t miss the uncertainty that came with being with young Bucky Barnes or the hole in your chest that you felt whenever he would leave.

However, you did miss his company. Not the bullshit, flirtatious, overly confident, and emotionally distant persona he would often put out. No, that dickhead was one of the reasons you never worked out. Instead, you missed the Bucky that would buy you a coffee every morning, the one that would make you laugh until your stomach hurt, the one that would invite you over to have a movie night and buy your favorite snacks.

You missed Bucky, who used to be your friend.

Natasha, the ever-observant of your group of friends, had warned you before it started. She had seen the way you eyed each other at a party one drunken night, both your eyes burning with desire as a product of the growing sexual tension you have had ever since you met for the first time.

As it turned out, Natasha was not only beautiful but also intuitive.

“Nat, please—” you drunkenly argued. Your red cup filled with liquor spilled as you tried to walk away from the redhead, but her hand stopped you.

“Listen to me. I know you want to fuck him, but you have to promise me you won’t do it.” The seriousness behind her voice didn’t register in your intoxicated brain, though, and you kept rolling your eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You half slurred, half laughed.

“I see the way you look at him; I also see the way he looks at you. Maybe one day you guys could be a good couple, great even, but right now the only thing that could come out of you two hooking up is one of you getting hurt, if not both.” Her hands grabbed your face, and green eyes met yours. “You will break each other's hearts. You already love each other; we can all see it, but neither of you is ready to be in a relationship or to compromise yet. So please, for the love of God, do not sleep with him.”

Natasha’s words were wise, and with time, they turned out to be true. The next morning you had woken up in bed alone; the only memory of him was the smell of cheap beer, sweat, and the cologne he always wore.

That was the first time Bucky had broken your heart.

Truth be told, as much as you had blamed Bucky for the downfall of your situationship, you were as equally guilty as he had been. The loneliness, the anger, and the resentment you felt throughout the relationship were probably reciprocated because, as Nat had said, you weren’t ready to be together.

Both of you loved each other deeply, but you didn’t know how to do it. Not in a healthy way.

So you tore yourselves apart, sleeping with one another but never brave enough to define things. You acted as if you were a couple, but neither of you would admit your feelings, not even to each other. It was a cycle of stability and sex that always crashed down with one of you being scared, perhaps both of you at the same time, of giving your heart away.

“Hey”

Your heart drummed against your chest, and a warmth spread over your cheeks. You had missed his voice, the sweet baritone of his voice had always made your body react like that. And now, after years of not hearing it, you finally realized how much you had craved for it.

He carried two flutes filled with champagne and passed one to you, which you gladly took.

“Thanks.” you said with a smile.

Both of you took a sip from your drinks, unsure of how to start the so needed conversation. Fortunately, Bucky decided to take the first step.

“They seem happy, huh?”

You chuckled mentally at his opening line, but you admitted to yourself you couldn’t do better.

“Yeah.” You took a second sip of your drink. “The happiest I’ve ever seen them.”

“You must be proud.” he pointed out. You looked at him, confused at what he meant. “Of your matchmaking skills. This wouldn’t have happened without you convincing Peggy to let Steve show her around the city when she first moved here.”

Ah, of course. A sweet smile placed on your lips as you remembered Steve’s adoration showing on his face the first time he saw Peggy after coming to visit you. She, on the other hand, thought nothing more of him than just a pretty guy, but you could see that behind the tough façade she always displayed towards men that tried to flirt with her, she was interested in him, his character, and the kindness he always displayed.

So naturally, you intervened. And you got the perfect opportunity when Peggy got offered a job in New York.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You smirked at him.

“Sure,” he chuckled.

A heartbeat passed, and blue eyes connected with yours once again. The more you looked at them, the more you could feel all the things he wanted to say—a storm of words locked behind them and almost ready to spill. But above all, you could see a bit of sadness, and he found himself finding the same in yours.

His hand twitched in instinct, wanting to caress your face to comfort you, as he had done for so many years, but he caught himself before doing it. It was too late though; you caught it the moment you saw his eyes tense up.

“Do you—” his words died on his mouth, the rushed beating of his heart stopping them. He cleared his throat, trying to push out more confidence than he actually felt. “Wanna go take a walk?”

You didn’t answer immediately. You couldn’t. Every rational part of you was screaming at you, scolding you for even thinking of going with him. You couldn't do it, you couldn’t fall for the same cycle you had run away from in the first place. You weren’t the same person as you were before, you matured, and you learned from your mistakes. Going out with the man that always seem to bring your deepest, darkest, and most unwanted feelings was something you couldn't do.

You couldn't.

You shouldn’t.

You shouldn’t.

“Yeah. That sounds nice.”

You were convinced that whoever planned Steve and Peggy’s wedding was into sorcery, or at the very least a clairvoyant. When Peggy and Steve chose this place along with a terrace to host the ceremony, everyone had been skeptical of it, as having a wedding outside in the middle of April wasn’t a good choice. As the day of the ceremony closed in, the rainy days did too, and five days before it wouldn’t stop raining all day. Steve and Peggy had expressed their concerns to the wedding planner, but they only got a confident response that nothing would ruin their day. And the wedding planner had been right, not a single drop fell that day in the middle of April; instead, a cool, warm day had welcomed the newlyweds.

As you walked the chilly but comfortable night streets of New York, you thanked the wedding planner and their perfect timing. Even walking in silence along him brought your heart back to the many times you had done the same thing back then, back when you were just two college students without any idea what the future held for you.

“So... how you’ve been?” He asked, unsure of what else to say.

“I’ve been alright. Work has really taken over my life.”

He chuckled. “You? A workaholic?”

It wasn't that you had been irresponsible or a mess back in college, but you had always been more of an adventurer, and you had always pointed out your desire to never lose your freedom.

He had been the same.

“Look who’s talking, Mr. ‘I have my own firm’,” you teased.

Steve had told you a couple of years ago about their idea of opening his own firm, alongside Bucky and Sam. You remember your heart stopping at the mention of his name, but you didn’t tell Steve to not mention him; instead, you asked more about it. It was the first time in years you got any updates on his life, and you allowed yourself to dwell in it. That call stayed on your mind for weeks.

“Shut up,” he smirked.

That was all he needed to open up about what had happened to him. He told you about his old firm and how he hated to work there. How he wanted to have a place where working pro bono wasn’t such an impossible thing to do, he wanted to do more than just defend white collar rich people that seemed to think the law was always above them. He told you how scared he was of leaving somewhere where he had stability but was ultimately convinced by Steve to make a big move, follow what he wanted to do.

In return, you told him about how scared you had been of building a new life in a different country and how you thought your job would suffer from it, as you had thought that as a journalist with a lack of connections and knowledge of the place would put you in a thought position. You told him how you had met Peggy when you were interviewing a couple of government officers for alleged corruption practices, and out of everyone there, Peggy seemed to be the only one that had taken any concern in it. You told him about the job offer you had gotten for a company right in New York that you weren’t taken so seriously but you still wanted to see what it was.

The more you heard him speak, the more happiness grew inside you. Sometimes you wondered whether you had made the right choice or not when you left him behind, but hearing everything he had accomplished, both of you, you were confident you had done what was right for you both.

You turned to him, both of you stopping in your tracks, your hand moved before you could stop it and found it’s place in his, and he reacted on pure instinct, his fingers intertwining with yours.

Bucky’s touch had always brought you warmth on cold days. Ever since the first time you shook hands, there had been an invisible force that made you crave his touch, your hands prickling wherever he had touch. With Bucky, you had always felt safe, even when he was breaking your heart.

You searched in his eyes for any signs of uncomfortableness or rejection at your touch, your heart aching in your chest at the thought of it, but there was only surprise and vulnerability in them. The corner of his eyes lowered as his eyebrows furrowed and his thumb swept over your skin, sending sparkles all over your body.

He had missed this, more than he would ever admit.

“I’m proud of you, Jamie.” His face lit up, a happy smile spreading over his face. “I always knew you would do great things.”

Bucky’s hand leaves yours, a sudden ache installing in your chest, but it didn’t stay there long as he engulfed you in a tight hug, one of his arms surrounding your waist and the other one going behind your neck.

Your head found its place in the crook of his neck, and his hand held the back of your head. His eyes closed as he smelled your lavender shampoo.

“I’m so proud of you too, my beautiful angel,” he whispered next to your ear, making your eyes prickle with the treat of tears spilling from them. “Peggy told me how hard you’ve worked for your position. You have the job of your dreams, you deserve every promotion you’ve gotten, every award, and every adventure you’ve had. I’m proud of the life you have built for yourself.”

The hug became tighter as you both relished in each other's touch and smell, a memory of the past that still ached but also brought you the sweetest of comfort.

Even after all that had happened, the love and care, no matter how tainted it had ended up as, still remained there. Deep down, in the bittersweet memories of how good things had been and the old promises that were never kept, the feelings were still there.

After a few minutes, the embrace was cut short, both of you now slightly embarrassed for the sudden display of affection. The heat in your cheeks made you cringe inwards, and you forced yourself to look away. You shouldn’t have done that. You shouldn't have enjoyed it as much as you did. You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this, you wouldn't feel so deeply for him.

As it turned out, stopping loving Bucky Barnes wasn’t as easy as you had thought.

His hand wrapped yours, taking you by surprise. A charming smile showed his white teeth, and the little wrinkles around his eyes made your heart melt. You smiled back at him, the butterflies in your stomach growing stronger and stronger; perhaps they never left.

“Remember that old bar with the arcade inside?” he asked out of nowhere.

“The one where we found after the whole John Walker thing?” He nodded. “Yeah, what about it?”

“Let’s go grab a drink there.”

Electricity ran through your veins at his words, and you felt like you were a freshman in college again.

“Aren’t we a little too overdressed to go to a bar?” You question. Bucky’s navy blue suit that was paired with an expensive-looking pair of black shoes and your lilac flowy long dress were definitely too much for a dinky little bar.

Bucky’s eyes shone with a youthful spark you had seen so long ago as he squeezed your hand.

“Who cares?”

When you got accepted into your first college choice, you thought you might have been dreaming. The chances you got accepted were the lowest of every place that you had applied to, but by some miracle you got it. You had dreamed of what college life would be—the classes you would take, the new and interesting people you would meet, and even the parties you would attend. You had prepared yourself for a life full of work and perhaps adventure.

But not even a lifetime of daydreaming could’ve prepared you for Bucky Barnes.

Life is filled with an ocean of coincidences, but the ones that always lingered in your mind were the ones that brought you to him. If Natasha’s phone had not died the night before, she would’ve woken up in time to get to class, and she would’ve taken her preferred spot in the middle of the class. If she had woken up in time, she wouldn’t have ended up sitting in the only available seat, which coincidentally was next to you.

If Natasha had woken up earlier, you would’ve never ended up talking to her and subsequently going to go grab something to eat; she would’ve never introduced you to her roommate Wanda or her longtime friend Steve. Also, she would’ve never invited you to hang out with the rest of her friend group in the exact same bar that you would adopt for a weekly Friday reunion for the rest of college.

And perhaps you would’ve never had met Bucky Barnes, or you would’ve ended up being one of many nightstands. Or maybe life would’ve ended up bringing you to him no matter what, because after meeting him you started to believe in soulmates. Not in the typical type of soulmates that, with just one glance, you weren’t that naive, but you did believe in the type of soulmates that would understand you unlike anyone else. There had always been an emptiness in your heart that you never noticed, not until he held you for the first time after a bad day.

Bucky was your soulmate because things had never been complicated with him, not even the first time you met each other. Talking to him, opening up, and letting him see the ugliest parts of yourself was almost second nature to you. You were convinced that the only person who could see the world the same as you was him. He saw the good and the bad in you because, in the end, the same parts in you that were broken were already broken in himself.

Maybe this was why you didn’t work out.

At the time you didn’t care, the only thing you cared about was the fact that being with Bucky made you feel good. That’s why it wasn’t so hard to convince you to go with him to do things that weren’t necessarily smart, wise... or legal. Things like breaking into a party that was hosted by Bucky’s college nemesis and spray painting in his room the words “You are nothing without Daddy’s money.” Bucky had always been talented at hitting where it hurt, especially when it came to someone who had jeopardized his scholarship.

John Walker had been furious later that night when he had brought a girl upstairs only to fund the stench of the spray pain nauseatingly filling his room. The black letters still dripped from the freshness of it, and Walker had gone in what could only be described as a temper tantrum at the age of twenty, at least that’s what everyone had said next Monday when you went back to class.

That night you had decided to celebrate, roaming the streets of New York in search of a bar that would take your fake ID’s and wouldn’t think twice about it but could also drink in peace without having to fight for a beer. Unfortunately, everywhere seemed to be either packed or the bartender would intensely check everyone's ID, driving you away from there. You had already paid a good amount for them, you didn’t want to risk losing it.

Almost close to giving up and just going back to Bucky’s apartment, a neon light caught your attention. Big, bright cyan letters read “Blue Circuit,"  a lonely bar in the middle of town that not a lot of people seemed to go to. A bar that would become a place just for you and Bucky, away from everyone else, from people’s expectations, and above all, away from the real world. As long as you were there with him, nothing mattered, and no one else could break apart what this place meant.

But if things had gone the way they were supposed to, then you wouldn’t have left, and even after all these years, this place would still be yours, and his eyes wouldn’t have looked at you with such hatred when he had caught you in the bathroom with a random guy you met at a party.

“C’mon!” Bucky yelled once your character had gotten the last winning hit on his. The animation of the pixelated woman with steel fans using them to cut his character's head officially proclaimed your victory.

With a cocky smile, you took a step back, winking at him as you took a sip of your drink, and the taste of rum filled your taste buds. “I don’t know why you’re so surprised, I’ve always been better at this than you.”

His body came close to you, close enough to smell the beers he had been taking, and with a seamless swing he took your glass away from your lips and brought it to his, his body ever so slightly trapping you against a table.

“That’s because you always cheat.” He said, with a playfulness in his eyes that made your heart pound against your chest. “You do your little cheat codes that I’ve never learned.”

“You mean learning the combos and using them?” You questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“Sure, if that’s what you call them.”

You took back your drink, placing it on the table behind you, before grabbing his hand and guiding him through the other machines, scanning them with your eyes as you passed the few that still remained there. The classics were still there: Pacman, Space Invaders, MK, Tetris, etc; but those were still games that Bucky still struggled with. You remembered you used to tell him he had an old soul, and that’s why he always struggled to play any videogames, no matter how old they were.

“So, what do you want to get your ass beaten on now?”

His eyes swept through the room until they finally landed in a new addition to the bar, a brand new air hockey table. He didn’t even have to say a word, once his eyes had reached yours, you knew it.

With a happy smile, you rushed to the table. The way you both laughed reminded you of the way you would run hand in hand to your next class when you were late, the rushing in your veins and the tingling sensation of his touch in your skin being the only thing that mattered once you caught a glance of his face. A silly crush, you had deemed it. As if his smile wouldn’t warm up your inside, as if his presence wasn’t the only one that you could tolerate sometimes. As if he hadn’t managed to become one of the most important people in your life in just six months.

As if he wasn’t your first actual love.

College me was so naive, you thought amused with yourself. What you weren’t expecting was the speckles of bitterness that lingered in your mouth moments after it.

“You wanna make this more interesting?” Bucky broke you from your thoughts.

Right, air hockey.

“I’m listening.” A smooth tone filled every letter you said, making his skin filled with goosebumps.

He dug into his pockets, pulling out the change he had previously gotten from the bartender so you could use it and putting it in the side of the machine. One flat hockey disc fell, and he placed it on his side.

“Let’s make it a challenge.”

“What do you mean?”

James, the man whore seductress he always was, began uncuffing his sleeves off, folding them up until they reached right below his elbow. At first you would’ve thought of it as a way to get himself comfortable for the game, but the way he leaned over the table, his muscles popping discreetly against his shirt and his eyes burning you with something you were familiar with, you knew it was intentional.

“If any of us score a point, we get to ask a question to the other person , whatever it is, and we have to answer it, no bullshit allowed.”

Bucky was tempting you the same way he used to do it. He had something in mind he wanted to ask, and he was fishing for an in. He knew how to sweet-talk to you to give in, he knew how attractive he was, and he had learned what worked on you to the tea. James knew what he was doing just as much as you knew it, and that wasn’t even the worst part.

The worst part was how much you wanted to give in.

“No bullshit, huh?” You asked, downing the rest of your drink before grabbing the mallet in your hand. If James Buchanan Barnes knew something was how to bring excitement to your life. You missed that. “Alright, ready to tell me your deepest, darkest secrets?”

He chuckled at your words, an ever so attractive smirk placing in his lips as he moved medium length hair away from his face. “Overconfidence is going to be your downfall, angel.”

Ah, there it was again. Angel.

He was trying, you could give him that. He really was trying. He knew that nickname always made your heart race faster. Sure, it wasn’t the most original one, people had called you that before, but it the way he said it that made it special.

He always made you feel special.

“It’s not overconfidence, old man. It’s just a fact.”

“Hey, fuck you. I’m only a year older than you.” You gave him a blank stare, knowing fully aware that wasn’t what you meant. “Besides, people say I have an old soul.”

And with that, the game started.

He took you by surprise, the little shit. A hard swipe, and the disk went zigzagging through the table until it got past your guard. The sound of the disk falling back for you to pick it up finally reached your ears before you could even process what was going on.

“That was cheating!” You argued, picking the disc back up.

James shrugged. “What? Now that I score a point, you're going to call it cheating?” He started to shake his head. “Such a sore loser.”

Ok, alright. He wanted to play like that, you could play the same.

“Fine.” You grunted. “Ask away.”

He took his time, a couple of seconds in, and you could see the question forming in his mind. Your heart pumped against your chest so rapidly, anticipation building up at what he was going to say.

“What was the first thing you thought when you saw me again?"

“Uh,” you stammered, You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to ask, but it still took you aback. “That’s your first question?”

James shrugged. “I’m just curious.”

“Well, I thought you looked more mature.”

“You mean old?” He questioned, half offended.

"No,” you chuckled. “Mature in the sense that I can’t see that same childishness I used to see all over your face ever since I met you.” You threw back the disk in the table and shot it with your mallet, the disk zigzagging all over the table. Bucky’s reflexes were good though, he blocked it right as it was about to go through and the next round began. “A part of me expected to see the same smug, cocky smile that followed me all through college but with a couple of wrinkles, maybe even a few gray hairs.” He chuckled. “But it’s not there. Well, it’s still there, but not in the same ‘I’m Bucky Barnes, I’m a total 10 and I know it and I definitely think I’m the hottest shit around’ type of way” You paused for a second, before almost whispering. “I was glad it isn’t there anymore.”

For a moment his eyes left the table and went to see your face. You thought for a second your words might’ve offended him, but the smile plastered all over his face brought relief to you.

“I was that annoying, huh?” he chuckled.

“Just a little bit.” You shrugged.

With an abrupt movement, you stopped the black circle and looked directly at him. Blue eyes looked at you confused until he saw the coy smile on your lips, your eyes looking deeper into him and making his spine shiver.

You gave him “the eyes.”.

“I also thought I almost forgot how good you look when you wear blue.” You told him before sliding the disk right across the table.

Score.

Not only could you play the same game as him, you could play it better.

After all, it was you that made the first move that night.

“Are you sure we can go up there this late?” You questioned as the imposing building in front of you two seemed locked for the night.

Bucky’s hand squeezed yours harder while still guiding you towards it. “Trust me, I’ve spent my fare share of nights here.”

He knocked on the glass doors, as they were already blocked at this time of the night. A man dressed in a security guard outfit came close to the door, a tired smile on his face.

“I’m starting to think you don’t actually own a house, Mr. Barnes.” He joked while searching between his keys.

The security guards comment made him chuckle. “What can I say, Jeff? There’s nothing like the smell of a copy machine to put me to sleep.”

“I can tell.” Jeff let you in, closing the door quickly behind you. “And I see you brought some company this time.”

You smiled at him shyly, extending your hand to introduce you as you told him your name. “It’s nice to meet you, Jeff.”

“Nice to meet you too, maybe you can convince this one to stop sleeping here every once in a while.”

“I’ll try my best.” You smiled at him.

After a few more inoffensive jabs from Jeff, you and Bucky made your way towards the elevator, the doors closing as you waved goodbye to the old, gray-haired man. You chuckled one last time at his jokes, and you laid against the wall. There was something about this building that you couldn’t shake off, the layout seeming all too familiar, scratching the back of your mind, but you weren’t able to see why.

“Have I been here before?” You told him.

He turned around with that playful smile he always had, and your heart skipped a beat. His eyes looked at you, and you could tell his mind went to the past, a memory he seemed to treasure.

“I’m surprised it took you so long to recognize it.”

“I don’t remember it, it just seems familiar.”

A small flash of disappointment crossed his blue eyes, and it made you feel a little guilty, but his little smile stayed the same.

“Maybe once we reach the top you’ll remember.” He told you, his fingers sliding between yours once the door opened.

You walked through the hallways of the office space, a lonely desk welcoming you both with a big plaque behind it that read “Rogers & Barnes” with golden letters. He had told you about his partnership with Steve, but having actually seen it made you realize how real it was.

Bucky deserved it; they both did. Everything they had worked for they had earned it with sweat, blood, and tears, and if there was anyone that had ever deserved success, it was both of them.

You kept walking, turning in some hallways and walking up some flights of stairs, passing conference rooms, what seemed to be a communal eating space, and office floors filled with computers and documents. Your journey came to an end once you reached a door, his name engraved on the dark chocolate wooden door.

Once you were inside, you left your coat on one of the three deep blue couches that occupied the center of the room.

“I’ll be right back.” He said before turning around and leaving you alone.

You took your time admiring the place. His desk, big and magnificent, looked clean and professional—not a single paper out of place. On the sides of the room there were bookshelves, some of them filled with books, others with binders of what you assumed was important documentation. However, what caught your eye was the pictures displaying on them.

There was one of Steve and him, both dressed up, and the golden sign in the entrance behind them. You assumed it was taken when they had opened the office, a big, almost juvenile expression on their faces. The next one was one of him with his old college football team, you saw similar faces popping up, Thor, Sam, Clint, Tony, Pietro, Steve, even young Peter was in it. They were all sweating, but the grins on their faces made you think this was after one of the games they had won.

You expected to see pictures from before, but you never thought you would see your own face in them. Almost all of the group pictures that showed all of you had him next to you, his arm around your shoulders or your waist, his grip pressing you against him. In all of them, you were both happy, except one of them caught your eye. It was a normal group picture on the surface, but this time his eyes weren’t on the camera taking the picture.

His eyes were on you.

“Having fun?” His words broke you out of your thoughts. You turned around, his hands holding two glasses and a bottle of scotch.

“Just looking at your collection of mementos.” You answered, leaving the picture in its rightful place.

You accepted the drink, taking a small sip of it as the bitter taste reached your tongue.

“So, you still don’t recognize it?” he questioned.

You shook your head. “Nope, I got no idea where we are.”

He guided you to the big glass wall to the side of his desk, and you saw it, overwhelmingly beautiful and majestic. The city looked bright, colored vibrating lights filling the scene while skyscrapers rose above everything, its architecture set in a messy yet harmonious display.

“What a view.” Was the only thing you were able to say, your hand reaching to touch the glass.

“Now look over there.” He pointed to your left.

Your eyes squinted, trying to search for whatever it was that he was trying to show you, but the darkness of the night didn’t help at all.

“On that tall building, under the light.”

You scanned the scenery, this time more carefully, until you finally found it. Your heart pounded against your chest, the tears almost filling your eyes instantly. That old brown wall was lit up by a single lamp, but its brightness was enough for you to read the graffiti on it.

If it’s meant to be, it’ll be.

Once sentence, and you were twenty-two again.

Tony’s party had been more fun than you had thought. When he had invited you all to the inauguration of this building, his building, you guessed it would be filled with pompous and uptight rich people. Maybe there would be boring classical music in the background and the menu would be entirely of caviar, Iberic ham, and some weird meat like kangaroo steak or something like that.

You should’ve known better than that.

Tony Stark, the only heir to the Stark fortune, was known for his rebellious ways. If he was throwing a party, it would definitely be wild; it didn’t matter what the setting was. So, in true Tony Starks style, the party ended up being a music and alcohol fest, to his father's dismay. Most of the attendees were his “party friends,"  with the exception of his parents and a few of their friends, and what was supposed to be a dull night ended up almost being a college party.

You and your friends had fun dancing, drinking, and laughing in the best clothes you owned. For you, it had been a green sequin dress you had the fortune to have found in a thrift store, as being a college student didn’t really allow you to spend hundreds of dollars on a dress. Bucky's suit had been an old deep blue one his mother had bought him for when his sister got married.

He looks amazing, you thought to yourself.

She looks breathtaking, he thought to himself.

He had spent the whole night by your side, as this had been one of your “good streaks,” as you called them. Neither of you had started a fight in a while, there hadn’t been any angry calls, tears, or ignoring each other, nor was there any jealousy, petty revenge, or hooking up with strangers. The last three were the worst; those usually happened when shit hit the fan, more often than not, and would leave you with an empty feeling after the storm had cleared.

Fortunately, this night instead had been filled with dancing, kisses, and lingering touches that would make you feel as in the highest of clouds. You loved the way his lips would kiss your neck, or how his fingers would caress your face, one of his hands in the back of your neck. You loved the kisses, how his lips tasted, the smell of his cologne, and the way his hair would fall on top of his eyes. You loved the way he smiled when he looked at you, how when he started to notice you, you were overwhelmed by everyone around and took you to explore the new but somewhat empty hallways.

You loved the way he made you laugh.

You loved the way he always knew how to say the right thing, even when everything else was bad.

You loved the way he made you feel.

You loved that you felt safe.

You loved— You loved—

You loved hi—

“Let’s go, around here.” Bucky pulled you with one hand, the other holding a bottle of champagne.

After a couple of minutes more, you finally found an empty office, all the way back into the room. An impressive big glass wall on the side of the office lets you see the whole city at night. It was beautiful.

Bucky took out his jacket, putting it on the floor so both of you could sit on top of it. After settling down, he opened the bottle, the cork flying behind you. The both of you stayed there for a while, your heads resting against his shoulder while you passed around the bottle.

“Could you imagine having an office like this?”

You chuckled. “Only if I win the lottery. Or marry a rich guy.”

“Too bad I’m broke.” He retorted, taking a sip.

His words took you aback, once again. Bucky had a tendency of saying things like that, and you weren’t sure how they made you feel. Sure, you could clearly see a future with him, but that wasn’t what you had agreed on. After that first night, you had agreed you were better as friends, but the next weekend ended with the two of you sleeping together again, and you decided that perhaps adding some benefits would be the best. Always friends, but never more.

Then why would he always say things like that?

You stood up, coming close to the crystal wall in an attempt to escape the overwhelming thoughts that plagued you once you thought about your "situationship." After a few seconds, he stood up too, placing himself to your right.

“I would like to work in a place half as nice as this.”

“Maybe you can ask Tony to give you family and friends a discount."

Your retort was met with a sarcastic laugh. "Yeah, right, even then I’d have to sell one of my kidneys to be able to afford one month's rent.”

“I’d tell you to sell your liver after, but with how much you drink, it’s probably already damaged goods.”

He laughed. He always looked so beautiful when he laughed.

Why were things so simple yet so simple with him? Why was being friends with him so complicated? You wanted more, you knew that he wanted more, but for some reason neither of you would say it. None of you were brave enough to say it.

Maybe the bad things about your “situationship” would go away once you were together. Maybe if you finally decided to take the first step, whether you felt ready or not, then the things that he did that broke your heart would stop. Maybe you would also stop trying to break his in return.

“I—”

Before you could even get one full word out, he interrupted you.

“What the fuck?”

His eyes were looking at some of the buildings below, an amused expression on his face.

“What?”

“Down there, there’s a guy doing graffiti.” He pointed.

You scanned the buildings over where he pointed, thankful that your eyesight was good enough to be able to spot a person with a red hoodie painting on a big wall that he had just covered with a lot of strokes of blue, purple, and pink, all of them mixing together to form what looked like a galaxy. He had just started to paint something on top of it, so his body was blocking the progress he had made, but you could tell he was writing something.

“What do you think he’s writing?” You asked him, your eyes fixated on the stranger.

“Something that will make us question the meaning of life.” He stated in an all-too-serious tone. “Or maybe he’s just writing his name.”

You chuckled. “Maybe he’s writing something like ‘peace’ or ‘love’, something nice.”

“Or, hear me out, something about being chill or keeping it real.”

After a few minutes of brainstorming options, Bucky pointed out the stranger had finished. After a few seconds of squinting your eyes, you saw the white letters that were still dripping with the freshness of the paint, and it read:

‘If it’s meant to be, it’ll be.’

Your eyes welled up with tears.

You were sure things were meant to be with him, but you weren’t ready to say them out loud. Not when you were so scared. Not when you couldn’t even tell him how you felt. Not when you couldn’t even bring to think those three words that would linger in your brain.

Not when a small part of you hated him when things were bad.

Instead of risking it all, you grabbed the bottle from his hands, taking a sip of it and rasing your pinky finger. “Let’s make a promise.”

His finger held yours.

“About what?”

“That no matter what, we’ll always be friends.”

“I thought that was implied already.” He joked.

“Promise it.”

His grip got tighter.

“I promise. Until death do us apart.”

And with that, he pulled towards himself, his arm around your shoulder as you both looked at the city lights.

“And who knows, maybe once you graduate you’ll get a good job, save some money, and have your own firm here. Or maybe get Tony to be your sugar daddy and gift you the whole building.”

He chortled. “Only if you promise you’ll stop by once in a while to have lunch with me.” He kissed you at the top of your head before continuing. “And to help me break things up with him after he signs the deal.”

“Promise.”

As life would have it, every promise you made each other was broken.

“How?” You questioned him, still taken aback.

“When Steve and I were planning on opening our own place together, we couldn’t find a good place to rent, so Tony offered us a space here.”

“He offered you this office?”

“Well, not this one exactly. I asked him if we could get this one.”

You didn’t utter a word for a couple of minutes, the silence of the office drowning you. A thousand questions ran through your mind as you processed what he said. Only after you were sure you could speak, you let out one word.

“Why?”

Bucky's eyes changed, the creases in the corners of his eyes pulled them down, and his eyes were clouded with a sadness you weren’t sure how to describe.

“You know why.” He whispered, so quietly you almost didn’t hear it.

Heartbreak.

That’s what you saw in his eyes.

A heartbreak that you thought you had left behind so many years ago.

You took a sip of your drink, hoping the burning of the alcohol would take away the knot in your throat.

“Well, that realization came in a little too late, didn’t it?” You remarked. You sounded bitter, it wasn’t intentional, but your mouth seemed to be acting before you could stop it.

“Yeah, I guess it did.” He muttered.

Why did he have to bring this up? Why couldn’t you just keep pretending like you were catching up as if you were just old friends who hadn’t seen each other in a while? Why couldn't you just keep pretending?

You left the glass on his desk and grabbed your coat.

“It’s late; I should probably go back to my hotel. I gotta prepare for my interview.”

“Don’t leave yet, please.” He begged.

He grabbed your hand, his touch breaking your heart once again. You didn’t move away from it though, you weren’t sure you were able to hold yourself together if you broke apart. You didn’t want to break apart. He came closer to you, his hand going to your waist as the other one wiped away the stray tears that scaped your eyes.

Bucky’s eyes looked at your lips before turning his attention to your eyes. He wanted to kiss you, he craved it like a madman in a dessert that hadn’t had water in weeks. He needed to kiss you, but he was still looking for something in you that would stop him. The sound of your coat dropping on the floor and your hand on top of his was the answer he needed.

His lips tasted like scotch and longing. Your arms surrounded his neck in an attempt to bring him closer to you. You could feel his heartbeat against your skin, the desperation of his touch as his hand pushed the back of your head to him. The kiss wasn’t pretty to watch either, but you liked it this way. It was messy and hurried, but you could feel everything he felt.

The side of you you had buried half a decade ago was crawling back to the surface, it’s claws filled with love, passion, admiration, and all the good things that came with Bucky. But it also brought everything that was unfinished, all the fights, the pain, and worst of all, all the resentment that you had never spoken about.

It was all at once.

And it was too much.

“No.” You pushed him away.

You needed to get out. You needed to run away.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I loved you before.” His voice was rushed, he knew his time with you was coming to an end. “I was an idiot, I was scared—“

“I don’t want to hear it.” You bent down to grab your things, but your belongings had come out of the pockets, your purse spilling its contents.

“— and for the past six years the only thing that’s been in my head is that I should’ve told you that day how much I loved you—”

“Stop.” You were trying to pick up everything.

“—and I know I should’ve went after you, I should’ve apologized for everything I did to you—”

“Stop it.”

“—but I was a coward. I’m still a coward because that’s the first thing I should’ve done when I saw you. But I’m here now because—”

“No.”

“— I still love you,—”

“Stop.”

“—I never stopped loving you—”

“Fucking stop!”

Your scream resounded in the office, the echo bouncing off the walls. Your words made him back away, as if you had burned him.

“Just—” your voice cracked, the tears prickling your eyes. “Just stop.”

He took a step forward, his hands hesitantly moving towards you, but you slapped them away.

“Why are you telling me this? Why now?”

For a few seconds, he remained silent as if he didn’t know either.

“Because I lied. That night you left my apartment, I lied when I said that I didn’t want the same thing as you.”

“You alright? You sounded weird over the phone.” Bucky asked as he opened the door.

Your hands were shaking with anticipation, your heart beating against your chest so quickly you thought you were about to have a heart attack.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” You answered as you made your way to the couch, your hands gripping on the side of it in an attempt to calm down.

His steps echoed behind you, the sound of a glass clinging was followed by running water.

“You want anything to drink?” he offered.

“No thanks.”

"Ok, just give me a sec, and I’ll be with you.”

You assumed he was doing the dishes by the amount of noise he was making. Bucky had always been a loud person, this being a clear example. A somewhat annoying  charm of his that right now was calming enough to make your pulse settle, at least enough to let go of the poor couch.

Instead, you just rested your hands on the side, caressing the fabric. Your whole focus on it until you felt a change in the texture. You looked at your hand, almost in between the cushions, and saw something that looked and felt like lace. As you pulled it out, you recognized it was underwear.

It wasn’t your underwear.

Don’t think about it, you said to yourself.

Someone else was here.

Don’t think about it.

Who was it?

Don’t think about it.

Was it Dolores again?

Don’t.

Think.

About.

It.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” He said behind you.

Quickly, you put the underwear back in its place, tucking it. He sat next to you, his back reclined.

The next few minutes were a blur in your mind. Sure, you had prepared a speech that you had gone over and over again until you had seen all possible scenarios and you had prepared for every possible answer he could have. What you didn’t expect was for you to black out while doing it, only remembering a few sentences.

“I know we said that we would leave things be, that we were good as just friends, but from the very beginning I’ve wanted to be with you, not just as friends. You make me happy, you make me feel safe, you make me feel alive.”

“You have become the only one in my heart, I can’t feel like this for anyone else. I don’t want to feel like this for anyone else.”

“Things haven’t been exactly light and breezy as we expected, but I know that we can be better. We can be good. It’s not too late for us.”

“I love you. I’ve loved you from the very beginning. And I think I will always love you.”

You knew things were over. What gave it away wasn’t the fact that he remained silent, letting both of you simmer in the echo of your words, it wasn’t either that his body had positioned as far away as the couch could allow it, with him almost sitting in its arm.

It was the eyes. The cloudiness in them, along with a mixture of emotions that were happening too fast for you to process. For a millisecond, there was a tenderness that made your heart melt. He wanted it too, you were sure.

That was until you saw the fear.

“I—I can’t.”

Two words and your world shattered.

“What?”

He stood up, beginning to pace back and forth. The fear that you had seen was being replaced with anger.

“We agreed to be just friends. You even said it was for the best.” He argued

“I wasn’t being honest. I was afraid.” You tried to reason with him, but he wasn’t listening. “I was afraid that you didn’t want it, or that this could ruin our friendship.”

“And this isn’t going to ruin us?”

It hurt. He must’ve seen it so he went up to you, his hands cupping your face.

“We are better off being like this.  I’ve never wanted a relationship, and neither have you, and you know it. We care about each other, and sure, we sleep together, but that’s what works out for us. What’s so wrong about being friends who sleep with each other?”

You didn’t answer for a while, your heart trembling in your chest.

“You…” Your voice was barely above a whisper, your throat closing as you fought the tears that wanted to escape your eyes. “You don’t love me?”

His forehead touched yours before answering. “Of course I love you. You have become one of the most important people in my life, and I lo– I can’t explain the way you make me feel. But this is not about that, I can’t love you the way you want me to love you. What we have is good, why can’t that be enough?”

He loved you but didn’t want to love you. Why?

Because your love was never good enough. That’s why there’s someone else’s underwear stuffed between the cushions. 

You scoffed at him, pulling yourself apart. “Good? You mean is good for you because you get to fuck me and anything that walks without feeling guilty?”

Your words were venomous. You wanted to hurt him, you wanted him to feel like you. And above all, you wanted to win, you wanted him to hurt more than you.

He turned around, looking as if you had just slapped him.

“Don’t fucking start.”

“I mean, that’s all you care about, isn’t it?” You pulled out the underwear and threw it to his face, a shocking expression as he grabbed it with his hand before throwing it away.

“Where did you get that?”

“It was in the fucking couch.” You threw him one of his couch cushions. “Let me guess, Dolores?” you asked, bitterly.

His lack of answer was enough.

You laughed sarcastically. "You’re fucking pathetic, you know that? Honestly, it’s getting really sad to watch you grovel around that upper class bitch, hoping her daddy will let you get an interview in his firm. At least have some self-respect and accept the fact that no matter how many times you screw her, you’re never going to get out of the shithole you were born in.” You got close to his face, so close you could feel his breath on you.

His fists clenched until his knuckles turned white. He was angrier than you had ever seen him before, but the pain in his eyes was the thing that you noticed the most. You had hurt him where it hurt the most.

Good.

Except he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

“At least I’m not the one that came here expecting something more out of this because I’m the only man that has stuck long enough in your life and didn’t just fuck you and leave. Now that’s fucking pathetic.”

Silence. He regretted the moment the words left his mouth as your eyes clouded with tears, but he couldn’t say sorry, not after what he said.

This was the end.

It was always meant to end this way.

“I never meant any of the things I said that night.” Bucky pleaded.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. We can’t change the past.”

You walked away from him, opting instead to look at the city lights outside of the window. Your own reflection welcomed you at the same time, tears ruining what once had been a nicely applied makeup. Dark speckles covered the top of your cheeks; your eyeliner was almost gone, with the puffiness starting to settle instead.

This image seemed way too familiar; the last time you saw it was almost six years ago.

Bucky walked behind you.

“I’m sorry.”

A bitter laugh came out of you unexpectedly. Things never really change, do they?

You whipped your tears away, suddenly feeling as if you had run a marathon. The weight of everything made you think you weren’t going to make it past the doors of the building.

“I’ve heard that before.”

You turned around, little droplets streaming down his face.

“I love you.” His voice trembled.

You came close to him, your hands whipping away his tears.

“And what good has that done to us?”

If you hadn’t been so drowning in the sense of despair that didn’t seem to want to leave you, you might’ve found it funny the fact that every time you were in this room you ended up with a broken heart.

Your words had seemed to leave Bucky speechless as he only stared at you while a thousand thoughts ran through his mind, his eyes coming to the realization that you were right. What good is love when the only thing that you get out of it is pain?

His forehead was warm when you placed a kiss on it, but his body was still not moving. His breath hitched for a second when you cupped his pace, his eyes finally staring at you, empty.

Familiar arms wrapped around you, his arms encasing you in an embrace that yelled misery, a misery that could almost be compared to yours. Your legs started giving in, the imaginary weight of the situation taking a toll on you like nothing before.

People say that the way to stop hating someone is forgiveness. You had healed, you had reflected, and you had learned and forgiven. You had been right before when you said you didn’t hate him anymore; no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t hate him forever.

You knew how to forgive.

But how do you stop loving someone who's hurt you as much as you have them?

“I still love you too,” your lips trembled, a bitter sensation placing on your throat. “Why do I still love you?”

You trapped your love for so long you had convinced yourself it was gone along with the hate. It was only natural, wasn’t it? You had fooled yourself, though. It was always there, burning deep in you along with all the pain it had brought with itself, and now that you allowed yourself to admit it, it came in as if it were the first day.

“I don’t know,” he whispered against your lips. The warmth of his hand against your face made you yearn for a different outcome. “But not even thousands of miles between us and a hundred years could make me forget about you. Nothing can.”

His eyes looked at yours, desperately as if the words were rushing out of his mouth, running out of time.

“Nothing.”

You kissed him.

You kissed him with hunger.

You kissed him with anger.

You kissed him violently, desperately, passionately.

You kissed him with love.

His hands reached back to your zipper with a movement so quick you didn’t know how your dress ended up on the floor. Your chest was exposed as the dress you were wearing couldn’t be worn with a bra. The desire in his eyes made you shudder; his pupils had seemed to grow, and the look on them seemed almost animalistic.

You were like a drug to him, and this was the first time in years he had seen you like this.

Who were you to deny him when he looked at you like that?

You were never a romantic when it came to sex. The slow kisses, the soft touches, and the caresses were never your thing. You craved for the roughness, the possessiveness, and the fire. You were never a romantic when it came to sex, but with Bucky, there was always a layer of care, even in the roughest of times. His eyes always looked at you with a softness that made your heart pound against your chest.

Perhaps sex was never pretty whenever you two were together, but it sure as hell felt amazing.

Somehow his clothes were on the floor along with yours, both of you using them as a way to avoid the coldness of the tile. His hands dragged along your skin, his touch burning you with passion as they made their way down to your underwear. You were thankful you had chosen a semi-sexy pair of black panties instead of the almost grandma but extremely comfortable ones you had thought of. His lips went for your neck, nibbling just a little in the right spot to make your thighs clench.

A part of Bucky was relieved that he hadn’t forgotten how to touch you. He remembered the spot on your neck, right below your ear, that made you shiver. He remembered the way you liked when he toyed with you, his fingers just barely brushing against your slit over your panties. Your nails scratched his arm, a confirmation for him that you needed more of him.

Bites and licks traveled down your body, invading your senses. Your hands pulled on his hair hard, guiding him to kiss you again as your hands pulled down the edge of his boxers. You couldn’t take him anymore; you needed him now.

You both looked like teenagers, fighting to get out of the final remnant of your clothes while looking desperate to finally be able to fuck. In any other situation, you would’ve laughed at the sight of it, but now there was nothing you could think of more than having Bucky inside you.

Perhaps deep down you were still those dumb teenagers.

His fingers played with your clit, drawing slow and dragged circles that overloaded all your nerve endings. He knew the pace you liked, the muscle memory acting by itself. In return, yours also acted the same, drawing small little circles on the top of his cock. His breath hitched once your finger dragged along the vein of his cock.

One of his hands went to your neck, pressing slightly hard.

“You missed this, didn’t you?” He whispered against your ear. You couldn’t talk, the hand on your neck making sure of that, so you nodded. “I missed this too, angel.”

His fingers made their way inside you, your wetness letting them go inside easily as he reached inside for that little spot you loved so much. You couldn’t control the moans that came out of your mouth, and you were thankful there wasn’t anyone else on this floor.

You were getting close, your thighs clenching along with your walls, but his fingers left you once you were on the edge. You opened your eyes to look at him, anger clear on them, but you just saw him placing himself between your legs, his body on top of yours.

He was bigger than you remembered, his cock sliding into you slowly, allowing you to take your time to get used to him. You were waiting for the hard thrusts as soon as he knew you were ready, but instead he cupped one on your cheeks.

He kissed you.

He kissed you, but it wasn’t like before.

It wasn’t filled only with lust, dominance, and passion.

His lips tasted sweeter, his touch seemed warmer, but most importantly, his feelings were different.

He was kissing you with so much love it was almost overwhelming. He wasn’t stopping himself from showing it anymore; he allowed himself for the first time to be honest with you, but above all with himself.

He loved you.

He loved you intentionally and wholeheartedly.

He loved you eternally.

The sunrise shine began to make its way above the darkness. A couple of glasses with whiskey and a packet of crackers lay in front as you covered yourselves with a blanket he kept for when he stayed.

His fingers were drawing lazy circles on your skin as you were playing with his hair. A few stray kisses would sometimes land in your cheek, making you giggle like a teenager.

“Angel,” He called your attention, his eyes looking nervous. Your mind raced as you waited for him to find the words he wanted to say.

Maybe he was about to say it was a mistake. Maybe he had a girlfriend he hadn’t told you about. Maybe he was trying to kick you out.

Thought after thought flooded your mind until he spoke.

“I’m sorry.”

His words took you by surprise.

“I–“

“Wait,” he interrupted you. “I need to say this before chicken out again.”

You nodded, unsure of how you felt.

“Remember the first time we met?” He asked, a warm smile placed on his lips. You nodded again, the same smile on yours. “I don’t think I’ve told you this, but I was ready to make a move on you as soon as I saw you.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Well, Nat kind of warned me not to try anything. I didn’t really matter anyway; if anything, it made you seem more enticing.”

He chuckled as you rolled your eyes. Bucky was always Bucky.

“Anyways, when I first got to the bar, you were with Wanda and Nat while you were doing shots with them, and Wanda said something that made you laugh, and you ended up spitting your drink all over me as I was about to introduce myself.”

The once uncomfortable moment had lost its awkwardness and was now a funny memory to you.

“I don’t blame you for not sleeping with me after that; having tequila in my eyes would really put me out of the mood too.”

He chuckled.

“It wasn’t great, but it didn’t really put me off.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.” He said as he played with your hair. “You took me to the bathroom and helped me clean my eyes on the sink, and you started to say the most outlandish shit ever.”

The cringe got in you, your body slightly retracting itself as you remembered everything you said.

“I was drunk and nervous. Besides, I thought you might sue me because Nat told me you were a law student.”

“I considered it.” He joked. “I knew I liked you from that very moment.” He whispered, almost as if he were doing it with fear. “I never met anyone that made me laugh like that; even when it felt like my eyes were melting out of their sockets, all I could do was laugh at everything you said.”

Your hand reached to his chest, trying to give him the push he needed to keep going.

“I also remember the moment I realized I loved you. Remember that fight we had at Quentin’s party?”

“Which one?”

“The one with John Walker.”

“What are you even getting angry about?” He yelled as he chased you.

You were fighting against a sea of drunk college students, and the more you fought, the more you found yourself being pushed around. You heard him behind you, calling your name, but you had no intention of hearing him. You weren’t even sure why you were so angry, but you knew that you had to get away from him.

His arm finally reached you, dragging you to the side.

“Leave me the fuck alone.”

“What the fuck is your problem?” The smell of beer hit your nostrils as soon as he spoke. It was strong—almost too strong.

You shook off his hand.

“My problem is that you supposedly left to get me a drink, and then when I go looking for you, you’re getting all cozy with Dolores, and you just forgot about me.”

He rolled his eyes.

“She stopped me to talk; what was I going to do? Ignore her?”

“Maybe. But what you don’t do is tell me you’re going to be back and disappear for forty minutes.”

“Are you mad because I didn’t come back or because I was talking to Dot?”

Dot.

What a fucking asshole.

“I don’t care who you talk to, but you don’t leave your supposedly best friend stranded like that.”

“Well, sorry for thinking that my best friend was a grown woman that could take care of herself. I didn’t know you needed me to be by your side all the time.”

He didn’t mean that. He shouldn’t have left you alone in a party this big, not when it was only the two of you out of your friend group.

“Then why the fuck you brought me here if you were just going to fuck off as soon as we got here? You’re basically the only one I know here.”

“Then go make some friends.” He should’ve stopped there. If he hadn’t been drunk, maybe he would’ve just said sorry, and you two could’ve had a good time. Unfortunately, his brain and his mouth would sometimes lose against his own stupidity. “Maybe you’ll even find someone that’ll take that stick out of your ass too.”

Your eyes watered for a second, but you were never going to let him see you cry.

“Fuck you.” You muttered before submerging yourself in the sea of people again.

You drank.

The more you drank, the angrier you got. And the angrier you got, the more you wanted to hurt him and forget.

The next time Bucky saw you, you were on top of John Walker, your mouth against his as his hands squeezed your ass.

“When I saw you with him,“ his voice faltered. “It hurt. I thought it hurt because you were with fucking John Walker and I fucking hated his guts, but it wasn’t just that. Even if you had been with a random guy I’ve never seen before, it would’ve still hurt the same.”

“Bucky…” You try to apologize, but he’s quick enough to stop you.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel bad. It’s my fault how all of this ended. If I had been honest with myself about you, then none of this would’ve happened. I have loved you for so long I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to not love you, and now that I have finally said it, I don’t think I want to forget, even if we are not together.”

You didn’t say a word, not sure that you would be able to talk without breaking down, but when you saw his eyes, you couldn’t stop it.

“We hurt each other so much, didn’t we?” He nodded, a sad chuckle along with it.

The irony of it. Love could conquer everything, except the pain that you had caused each other.

“I’m sorry too.” You whispered. “I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for wanting to hurt you.”

His arm went over your shoulders, squeezing you tightly against him.

“I’m sorry for disappearing; I know it hurt you when I left. Steve tried to tell me, but I wouldn’t listen, but I could see he was worried.”

“It was rough.” He hesitated to answer, not wanting to make you feel worse about it.

“I’m sorry for everything.”

His lips kissed the top of your head, both of you turning to see the sunrise.

“I forgave you a long time ago.” He whispered. “Can you forgive me?”

You smiled as you squeezed his hand. “I forgave you a long time ago too.”

You didn’t say anything for a while, deciding on just taking in the view of the city that was once your home. And just like that, sitting on the floor with Bucky at your side, you finally felt your heart truly healing.

“I missed this.” He said.

“Me too.”

“We should’ve taken a cab.” He said, watching you walk uncomfortably.

“And miss the opportunity to get this fucking deliciousness? No fucking way.” You take another big bite of your bagel, squeezing it a little too hard and making the side push out the cream cheese. “Besides, we’re almost there.”

After a couple more blocks of walking, talking, and eating, you finally reach your hotel. Once you get to the steps, you hop out of the uncomfortable heels that had been punishing your feet for the whole walk, a sigh of relief so loud it made Bucky laugh.

“Well, this is my stop.” You gesture towards the building behind you.

“Yeah.”

A certain heavyness settles on both. You don’t want to say goodbye.

“I didn’t even ask you, how long are you staying for?”

“A couple of days more. I still need to catch up with everyone else.”

“Good, good.”

He’s the one to hug you first. His arms around your waist pushed you against him, the small remnants of his cologne filling your nostrils. Your arms clung on to him, clutching him in between them.

Minutes went by, and you were the first one to let go as you kissed his cheek.

“Don’t be a stranger.” You said.

You walked up the steps towards the entrance of the hotel, your mind just now processing everything that had happened that night. You never thought you would talk to him again, let alone spend a whole night with him.

It was a good night.

It was a good goodbye.

Your hand reached out to open the door to the lobby, but Bucky called your name. You turned around, not sure what he was going to say.

“Do you think you could love me one last time?”

You smiled at him. The so-ever dramatic and romantic Bucky Barnes had never changed. He laughed along with you, knowing you found him a little ridiculous.

“I’ll see you around Jamie.” You said as you turned around.

None of you were sure what was next. Maybe it was best if you stayed friends and rebuilt the relationship you both had tainted so badly. Or maybe this was a new opportunity for something that could be the best thing of your lives, or perhaps it was the last time you saw each other. Whatever it was, you were sure of one thing. You were never going to lie about your feelings again, and neither would he.

If you like the story please interact: reblogs, likes and comments go a long way. Feedback is always appreciated! Feel free to message me about it.

[thollandsgirl2013]

𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦

Parings → Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings → insecurities, fluff, angst

Summary → Seven minutes in heaven, what could happen?

(gif not mine)

Parties had never been your scene. The loud music, the dim lighting, and the sea of unfamiliar faces always made you feel out of place. But when Betty insisted, practically dragging you along with MJ, you found yourself reluctantly agreeing. Betty and MJ were your best friends, and as much as you didn't enjoy parties, you hated the idea of being left out more.

The moment you stepped into the crowded living room, you stuck close to MJ, your safety net. You shared a knowing look, silently agreeing to stick together for the night. But that plan quickly fell apart when Betty spotted Ned across the room. With a playful wink, she ditched you two in favor of her boyfriend, leaving you and MJ to fend for yourselves.

That’s when the trouble began.

You didn’t know how, but before you knew it, you were dragged into a game of Seven Minutes in Heaven. The circle of players quickly formed: you, MJ, Betty, Ned, Flash, Cindy, Abe, Tiny, Jason, and Peter. The moment you saw Peter, your heart skipped a beat. You had a crush on him for as long as you could remember, but he had liked Liz back in sophomore year. Now that Liz was gone, you didn’t know if he was interested in anyone else. You hoped, silently and fervently, that the bottle would point to him.

It was your turn. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves, and spun the bottle. It whirled around, the tension in the room thick as everyone watched. The bottle slowed, and your heart pounded in your chest as it pointed directly at Peter.

Your excitement was short-lived, though. Peter’s face was expressionless, almost cold, as he got up. He didn’t seem excited at all. In fact, he looked like he’d rather be anywhere but here. A lump formed in your throat, but you forced yourself to keep calm. Maybe he was just as nervous as you were.

The two of you were ushered into a small, cramped closet. Flash and Jason slammed the door shut with a loud laugh, locking you both in. The dim light from the overhead bulb cast shadows on the walls, making the small space feel even smaller. Peter stood as far away from you as possible, his hands shoved into his pockets.

You tried to swallow your disappointment, but your insecurities were already creeping in, whispering that he didn't want to be here with you. You cleared your throat, trying to break the awkward silence. “Um, hey.”

“Hi,” he replied, his voice flat.

You shifted uncomfortably, your nerves getting the better of you. “W-we don’t have to do anything. You don’t have to kiss me if you don’t want to. I’m sure you’d rather be in here with someone else. We can just stay where we are.” Your voice trailed off, growing quieter with each word.

Peter’s expression softened slightly, and he finally met your gaze. “It’s nothing to do with you. I’m sorry I seemed rude. I’m just really stressed out lately, and parties aren’t really my thing. I only came because of Ned.”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “Me too. Betty practically dragged me here.”

He chuckled softly, the sound easing some of the tension between you. “Seems like we have something in common.”

For some reason, his words gave you a burst of courage. Maybe it was the small space or the fact that you were alone with him, but you suddenly felt braver. “Hey, Peter, I… um, I wanted to tell you something for a while.” You swallowed hard, nerves bubbling up again. “I-I really like you. And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same. You don’t really know me, so I get it.”

Peter blinked, clearly stunned by your confession. His expression was unreadable, and your heart sank a little. But then, to your surprise, he spoke. “Yeah, I don’t really know you… but maybe I’d like to. Maybe we could go on a date sometime? Get to know each other? And if it goes well… who knows.... maybe we could start dating.”

Peter had never dated anyone or even gone on a date, so he was hopeful. You like him, so maybe it will be good.

“Yes! I-I mean, yeah, sure,” you replied, trying to sound casual despite the excitement bubbling inside you.

A shy smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Hey, we still have two minutes. Do you want to… maybe… kiss?”

You felt your cheeks heat up, but you nodded. “Yeah.” Your voice was just a whisper.

The kiss was soft, tentative, and a little awkward, but it was sweet in its own way. It was both of your first kisses. Neither of you were experienced, but you both tried, and by the time you leaned in again for a second kiss, it felt a little more natural, a little more right.

Suddenly, the door was yanked open, and Flash’s voice rang out. “Yo, Parker’s kissing Y/n!” He sounded half-amazed, half-amused. Ned cheered loudly, and you pulled away from Peter, your face burning with embarrassment. Peter glared at Flash, clearly annoyed.

MJ gave you a thumbs up from across the room, her smirk evident even in the dim light.

“Shut up, Flash. Leave us alone,” Peter snapped, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the closet. Without another word, he led you upstairs, away from the chaos of the party.

Peter guided you to a quiet room at the far end of the hall, away from the noise and the teasing. He closed the door behind you and turned to face you, a soft smile on his lips. “Sorry about Flash. He’s an idiot.”

You giggled, still a little flustered from the kiss. “It’s okay. I’m just glad we got out of there.”

He hesitated for a moment, then took a step closer to you, his eyes meeting yours. "So, about that date… h-how about tomorrow? Maybe we can go to the movies or grab some coffee?" His voice was hopeful, a bit nervous.

You smiled, your own nerves finally settling. “I’d like that.”

Peter’s smile grew, and for the first time that night, he seemed genuinely happy. “Me too.”

As the two of you stood there, you felt something shift. The awkwardness of the game downstairs was replaced with something new—something exciting. You leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin against your lips.

Peter caught your gaze, and for a moment, it felt like the world outside that small room didn't exist. He leaned down slowly, capturing your lips in another kiss, this one more sure, more confident. It was sweet and gentle.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were smiling, a little breathless but incredibly happy. "We should probably get back downstairs before they start making stuff up," you said, though you made no move to leave.

"Yeah," Peter replied, his voice soft, "let's go."

As you left the party that night, walking side by side with Peter, you couldn’t help but feel like maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of something wonderful.

‎∗ ࣪ ˖༺ 𓆩☆𓆪 ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

[puppym3]

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

all of my works will be listed here!

note!: some of my works have some smut in them, be aware. also, these fics are not to be taken seriously, please do not be too delulu.

⊹₊⋆ bangchan

temptation

synopsis > after waking up and realizing your boyfriend isn't next to you, you find him still working in his office. after asking him to join you in bed and his many refusals, you try convince him to join you.

. ₊ ⊹

friction and fire

enemies to lovers one bed trope with bangchan.

. ₊ ⊹

insecure chan

. ₊ ⊹

perv roommate chan

. ₊ ⊹ . ₊˖ . ₊

⊹₊⋆ lee know

off-road ride

synopsis > you and minho are on your way to meet up with your friends, but get distracted along the way.

. ₊ ⊹

'i love that i like you, but i don't wanna love' (angst + hurt comfort)

. ₊ ⊹ . ₊˖ . ₊

⊹₊⋆ changbin

under the table

synopsis > you and your boyfriend, changbin, are at a restaurant with the other members. freshly back from a workout, changbin looks irresistibly attractive in a tight shirt that accentuates his toned physique. unable to resist, you let your desire get the better of you, subtly exploring his muscles under the table.

. ₊ ⊹ . ₊˖ . ₊

⊹₊⋆ hyunjin

dear farmer, (fluff)

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preparing for fashion week (fluff)

. ₊ ⊹ . ₊˖ . ₊

⊹₊⋆ han

skincare night (FLUFF)

. ₊ ⊹

jealous!jisung

. ₊ ⊹

best friend's older brother

. ₊ ⊹ . ₊˖ . ₊

⊹₊⋆ felix

movie night

synopsis > you invited felix over for movie night. you've only been dating for a little while and you're the first person he's ever dated, so he's nervous being so close to you.

. ₊ ⊹

transfer test

. ₊ ⊹

seven minutes in heaven , pt. 2

synopsis > you and your best friend, felix, are at a party. felix has a massive crush on you and you have no idea, so when you get picked for seven minutes in heaven with him, you didn't expect it to change everything for you.

. ₊ ⊹ . ₊˖ . ₊

⊹₊⋆ seungmin

heartstrings and lullabies : pt 1 , pt 2 , pt 3 , pt 4 , pt 5

synopsis > after losing your biological father, you and your mother frequently move, eventually landing in seungmin's home. initially uncomfortable, you bond with seungmin, in which you help him care for his baby brother, yun. your relationship evolves from awkwardness to something else.

. ₊ ⊹

take you home tonight

synopsis > seungmin knows you from mutual friends, and he always thought you were cute but you've never interacted with him. you both were at a house party you both were invited to and once he finally grabbed your attention, he never let it go.

. ₊ ⊹

unmasked

. ₊ ⊹ . ₊˖ . ₊

⊹₊⋆ i.n

my baby

synopsis > after you call jeongin a "baby", he tries to prove to you that he can be dominate, able to take control at first but slowly losing it.

. ₊ ⊹ . ₊˖ . ₊

GUIDE TO MAKING SUGGESTIONS!

so you guys already know about leaving things in my inbox, but to make them easier for me to write and to give me a better idea of what you want, here's what I would prefer included in the suggestions!

if you're suggesting smut, please mention if you want a fic that's smut with or without plot, it saves a lot less reading for you!

if you can, please make it as descriptive as you can for me, it's more likely you'll be satisfied with the results if you do!

if you want me to have creative freedom with my writing, that's perfectly fine with me too!

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

my current taglist!

@loverbangchan, @reignessance, @imperfectlyperfectprincess1, @armystay89, @ihrtlix, @jiyeonslays, @lovestaysblogs, @jeyelleohe, @celebration88

you can request to be on my taglist, i would be more than happy to add you!

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

[mattsturnioloz]

I found you again: Pt 2.

Summary: Sequel of ‘Then I lost you’, A year after a devastating break up, Y/n finds herself reuniting with the love of her life, Matt Sturniolo, at a mutual friends birthday party. Will they rekindle their love?

Pairings: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Warnings: Crying, arguing, angst, uti, cussing, mentions of anxiety.

A/N: (Yall wanted this so bad so i’m about to work on it, hope you guys enjoy😚 Again, If you haven’t, I recommend reading ‘Then I lost you’ first. There’s 5 parts so you have a little more understanding of why they broke up and the story in general, here’s a link :) ‘Then I lost you’)

I feel dread the rest of the way to the party. I know I shouldn’t be upset but I can’t help it. I can’t just throw away the 5 years we had together.

We get to the party and I realize that I need to loosen up. Chris, Nick and I thank the uber as we walk up to Tara’s door and we don’t bother knocking, I open the door and lead us in, seeing all the people, feeling a little self conscious about my outfit since I don’t usually dress this way. I grab Nicks hand as we walk through the house so that we didn’t lose eachother, Chris close behind.

“Y/n, we HAVE to take pictures in a bit I need some for instagram.” Nick says and Chris nods agreeing with him. “Yea sure, you guys look good.” I reply smiling at them, taking in their outfits. They both say thank you as we continue to walk through the crowded house, greeting some friends and we spot Larri, Quen and Tara talking in the backyard.

We walk up to them and I pounce on Larri and Quen scaring them and they both jump. “Holy fuck bitch you scared me!!” Larri yells, laughing as we hug.

All 6 of us talk for a while and we take pictures but eventually I somehow end up alone. Everyone is doing their own thing and I go inside where people are dancing and taking shots then I turn around when I feel someone grab my shoulder and it’s Jake with Johnnie next to him.

“Hi guys!!” I yell over the music hugging them. “Hey, Happy Birthday! are you gonna take shots with us?” Jake asks with shots in his hands and all of a sudden the attention is on us and the whole party is watching and convincing me to take some. I look in the corner of my eye and I see tara, a shot already in her hand.

I nod and drown down a couple of shots and all of us are having a good time. I’m not drunk but I definitely feel a little buzzed. I grab a drink after and I sit in the corner of the house just observing everyone as they dance.

The front door opens and I watch to see who it could be and my heart drops down to my ass. It’s Matt. With a blonde haired girl following behind him as they hold hands. I feel like throwing up. I clutch my chest before holding my mouth and I run to the bathroom dropping to the floor, puking up all of the alcohol.

I stand up and wipe my mouth, going to door and locking it. I look in the mirror, leaning against the sink. I thought he wasn’t coming?? I can’t go back out. I have to pretend to be drunk or something so I have an excuse to go home. Ew no.. I can’t do that.

I can’t say it’s because I don’t want to see Matt with a new girl, i’ll look like an idiot. But here I am a year later, still fonding over my ex who’s clearly moved on. I have to act like I don’t care. Yea, i’ll do that.

I hear a knock at the door and I fix myself up before opening it. I’m already startled when I see it’s the girl Matt came with, his girlfriend.

There’s an awkward silence between us before she speaks up “Can I- uh..” she says, pointing at the bathroom awkwardly, and that’s when I realize I was just standing there staring like a freak. Fuck. I already messed up.

“Oh! yea. i’m so sorry..” I answer, almost jumping out the way. God that’s embarrassing. I walk away and I sit back in the spot I was at originally. That’s when I spot Matt talking to Nick and Chris.

He looks so different. So good.. He has a new haircut and he grew his beard out. He doesn’t have the middle part anymore. He looks better.

He takes off his sweater revealing his arm covered in scattered tattoos and I melt. He has way more than what he had when we were together. I stop staring and look away when I see that his gaze meets mine, his eyes widening in shock when he spots me and I try to act like I didn’t see him. I feel my heart starting to beat out of my chest.

I look to my left and see his girlfriend coming out of the bathroom, making her way over to him before kissing him. I feel like i’m gonna throw up again as I feel a pit forming in my stomach. I make an almost disgusted face but quickly wipe it off. I can’t hate just because i’m jealous.

I look to my right and I see Nick and Chris walking over to me, Chris speaking first. “Nick wants to take shots, but he’s scared.” He says leaning down to my ear since the music was loud. “Why are you scared?” I chuckle, looking over at Nick when he starts speaking. “See, we’ve been 21 for months and I haven’t drank because i’m scared im gonna wake up in a ditch with an agonizing hangover.” he adds, as the 3 of us chuckle.

“I’ll get drunk if you do.” I say to Nick and Chris looks between us back and forth with his jaw dropped while chuckling. “I’m down.” Nick replies, nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders. I’m not stupid. I know I only said that to get Matt and the fact that he has a girlfriend off my mind.

I stand up and we go to the kitchen, brushing past Matt and his girlfriend and I fill up 2 shot glasses for Nick and I when Chris nudges me holding a shot glass. “You too?” I say raising my brows at him and he nods giggling like he’s excited.

I look over at Matt and his girlfriend who are watching us. “You guys want one?” I ask them, specifically making eye contact with Matt. I have to act like I don’t care, right?

“No i’m oka-“ His girlfriend replies but getting cut off by him. “I’ll take one.” He replies with a slight smile at me and I smile back, nodding and filling up a shot glass for him.

I hand it to him before the 4 of us cheers as his girlfriend watches us. Matt only took 1 shot because he’s driving, but Nick, Chris and I keep taking some to the point where I don’t know how many we drank.

15 minutes later the 3 of us are drunk leaning against each other while laughing and messing around. “L-let’s go to the couch..” Nick slurs, laughing as he talks. When we try to walk Chris falls splat on the ground and just lays there instead of getting up, making Nick and I tumble to the ground from laughing so hard. “Nick- Nick I can’t get uppp!” I say cackling pushing on his head trying to get up, Nick still laughing hysterically.

I look over at Chris and he’s still on his stomach in the same position he fell in, giggling to himself, his face squished against the cold wood floors. “Get up you freak!” I yell at Chris, still unable to control myself and I see Matt walking over to help him up. “Alright buddy, let’s get you guys home.” He says to Chris. He takes Chris first while Nick and I are sitting up, slumped against eachother on the wall.

Matt comes back and takes Nick before coming back for me. His girlfriend already waiting in the car with Chris and Nick. “Alright it’s your turn..” He says scooping me up bridal style, putting my arm around his neck. “Me too??..” I slur, my eyes barely open. “What? You thought i’d leave you there? you can’t possibly think that low of me.” He says, chuckling. I smile at him and my hand finds the back of his head and I start playing with his hair.

He looks at my face and smiles at me sweetly, making eye contact with me and I couldn’t help but cup his face and glide my finger across his cheek. I missed his face, the feeling of his touch, his smile, the way he looked at me with his beautiful blue eyes.

He takes my hand from his face holding it in his. “You can’t do that y/n.. I’m with Nancy.” He says, his smile fading. Right. I’m an idiot. “Sorry..” I slur, embarrassed. I know I can’t be selfish though, he’s in a relationship and I need to respect that. It’s not fair to her.

He still smiles at me again as he opens the back door of his car, putting me next to Chris before buckling me in and shutting the door. He gets into the passenger seat and his girlfriend kisses his cheek, getting touchy which pisses me off but again.. I can’t be mad.

I lay my head on Chris’s shoulder, feeling tired. I look over and Nick and Chris are already out like a light, so I close my eyes. We haven’t even moved yet. I feel Matt look back at me a couple of seconds before I start to hear lips smacking. There’s no way they’re fucking making out right now.

I open my eyes and lift my head from Chris’s shoulder to see them macking on each others mouths, I even saw tongue. I feel my body get hot and I feel like I can’t breathe. He doesn’t even have the decency to not do that in front of me. Even if he thinks i’m asleep, I still feel so disgusted and disrespected.

“Are you kidding me right now?!” I yell and I see them both get startled before looking at me in shock. I unbuckle my seatbelt grabbing my small purse and I open the car door stumbling out going back towards the party.

I fall on the grass since i’m still really drunk but I get back up and stumble towards the front door. I hear the car door opening and closing, matt’s voice following behind it. “Y/N!!”

He catches up to me and he grabs my arms. “Y/n, i’m sorry okay? We shouldn’t have done that, I didn’t thin-” he says, panicked before I interrupt him, shoving him away from me.

“Don’t touch me!! what the hell is wrong with you!!” I yell and I feel my nails digging into the palm of my hand from clenching my fists so hard. I could see the anger flush over his face when I shoved him, he grabs my forearms and holds them together firmly.

“Don’t fucking shove me! It’s not my fault you haven’t moved on!” He yells, still gripping my arms. I try to get out his grip but I fail. “I said don’t touch me.” I repeat, sternly. “I don’t care if you’re in a relationship, but you had to do that with me right behind you? I feel so disrespec-“ I add but I get cut off by him.

“You feel disrespected or insecure and jealous?” He snaps, in the same stern tone. Wow. “You’re an asshole!” I shove him again finally managing to get out his grip. “Why? because i’m right?!” He yells, after he stumbles back from the push. “Fuck you.” I slur, since i’m still very much drunk, my eyes watering. I see how my words weigh on him, but I don’t care at the moment.

I take in the night air, barely knowing why this is happening, the tears rolling down my cheeks making the cold air sting my face. He just stands there taking a deep breath obviously conflicted. This is the worst birthday ever. I should’ve stayed home.

1,951 words.

A/N: (this chapter is so long but I was so invested LMAO😭 Let me know what you guys think, it always helps me🙂)

Taglist: @watercolorskyy @chrissfleshlight @realuvrrr @stonermattsgf @pvssychicken @venusbabysblog @kayla-hearts4sturniolo @endereies @imwetforyourmom @starzinasblog @urfavstromboli @sturniqloo @star-yawnznn @h3arts4harry @asherrisrandom @tsturniolo4 @urmom69lol @luzsturniolo @victoriasturniolo @ncm9696 @valkatriee @sturnslut1 @annielolz @sturnlover4eva @luzsturniolo @slxtarchive @anyaa2s @sturnzpro

[hannyoontify]

casual - yoon jeonghan [teaser]

member | childhood best friend!jeonghan x fem!oc

genre | fluff, angst and angst and lots of angst, childhood best friends to ????

teaser word count | 1k (full fic est. 12k)

synopsis | throughout her childhood, jeonghan was the one constant in jeong-ah's life. he was her rock and she was his, but there was always an unspoken tension between the two, something that made jeong-ah's stomach flutter and her pulse race. was it casual, like jeonghan said? or was there a possibility of being something more?

warnings | none (in teaser)

notes | inspired from this post i made a while back! bc this was inspired by events that happened irl, i had to make it an oc so that things made sense (like their names) read the fic here!

“You should ask me why we’re in here instead of sleeping like everyone else.”

I let out a sigh that ended in a laugh. “Okay, Jeonghan. Why are we in here instead of sleeping like everyone else?”

Jeonghan immediately straightened his back and turned his body to face me, and I mirrored his movements. The way he looked at me with shining, excited eyes reminded me of the same 5-year old who enjoyed pulling on my pigtails and playing hide-and-seek.

Despite growing a lot in the past decade together, there were still some parts of Yoon Jeonghan that never seemed to change. For example, that mischievous look on his face whenever he was about to do something he wasn’t supposed to. 

“Wait here.” Jeonghan disappeared outside and I couldn’t help but smile at his excited, almost child-like demeanor. Resting my head against the wall, I looked up and saw the sloped ceiling decorated with glow-in-the-dark stars.

The door soon opened again and Jeonghan reappeared with a single cupcake, a match, a candle, and two mini party hats. “I know we all got in trouble with our parents today so we can’t celebrate New Year’s, but I still wanted to do something for you. I know how much you love New Year’s celebrations.”

It was true. When all six of us had gotten in trouble earlier that evening because Jeonghan convinced all of us to try and help him set up a booby trap in his grumpy neighbor's backyard involving popping firecrackers, I was greatly disheartened when our parents decided that our punishment would be a bedtime of 9:30 and no New Year’s celebration.

I was particularly more upset than others because my parents had promised me a year ago that this New Year’s celebration would be the year where I finally got to try champagne.

“Jeonghan, I-” I faltered. I couldn’t find the words to describe how grateful I was to have him at that moment. 

Jeonghan scrambled to sit in the empty spot next to me. “You can thank me and be impressed later, just put this hat on. We only have a minute left.” He snapped on his own party hat before sliding its identical piece over my own head.

With a shaky hand, Jeonghan struck the match and lit the candle that was stuck atop the cupcake. We had made these cupcakes earlier today, with the help of our siblings. It had always been a tradition of ours.

My family would go over to the Yoon family’s house for the New Year’s and we would spend the night. Jeonghan, his older brother, and I were the older ones so we usually resorted to playing video games, board games, and baking while our younger siblings played with toys or watched TV. Our time together was always fun and a big highlight of my winter break every year.

But two years ago, when Jeonghan and I kissed in the summer, something changed. Our conversations became more stiff and awkward and he seemed to avoid me and my text messages more often.

When I consulted my mother about this situation (minus the kissing part), she had laughed and told me, “It’s because both of you are going through puberty now. It’s okay, it’s natural! Your relationship is going to return to normal in no time.”

Albeit it did take two years and a global pandemic for the two of us to be back on speaking terms again, but I was thankful to have my best friend back.

Jeonghan looked at me with a bright smile as he softly began to count down, his phone propped up against the wall so we could keep an eye on the clock. The single flame of the candle seemed to reflect the hundreds and thousands of stars that Jeonghan held within his eyes. His long lashes fluttered against his pale cheek bone and that tear-shaped mole on his right cheek that I had always been fond of. 

“Five… four…” I joined him in the count down, our hands holding the small cupcake together. 

I’d grown to accept the fact that Jeonghan wanted to pretend that kiss never happened. I did a lot of thinking and reflecting to realize that it was our silly pre-pubescent emotions that had gotten the best of us in that moment. It never meant anything.

“Two… one! Happy new year!” Jeonghan cheered. “One, two, three!”

11 years of friendship helped me to immediately recognize Jeonghan’s intent when he began counting again.

When he reached 3, the two of us blew at the single candle and the flame flickered for a moment before it disappeared, leaving a small trail of white smoke in its wake. Jeonghan pulled the candle out of the cupcake and I dipped my finger into the frosting and smeared it across my best friend’s cheek.

Jeonghan smiled with a mischievous glint in his eyes before dipping this thumb into the white frosting and spreading it across my forehead. “Simbaaaaa.”

We both erupted into a fit of childish giggles as I tried to smear another glob of dense, sweet frosting onto his face, but he dodged my hand successfully. But because Jeonghan was blessed by the genetic gods and had much longer arms than I did, he was able to reach over and smudge another spot of white frosting onto the top of my nose.

“Ewww!” I cried loudly.

Jeonghan tried to shush me but it was too late. We heard a door upstairs opening, and a pair of footsteps moving down the stairs. Jeonghan and I held onto each other with bated breaths and when we heard the footsteps slowly fade away, we let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“Maybe they’re just grabbing water or some-” As Jeonghan whispered into my ear, the doorknob of the small door rattled and opened, revealing Mrs. Yoon, half disheveled with a face mask.

I clamped a hand over my mouth to suppress the giggle that was threatening to erupt as Jeonghan fumbled to find the right words. “H-hi, mom. We were just-”

“Out. Both of you. Now.”

Uh oh.

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[heartcal]

rejected ; c.h. (part viii)

summary: he was just a silly little crush that you had in high school, and you were sure that after graduating, you would be over it. so why is your heart beating fast as he sits next to you in your first class on your first day of college? chapter summary: calum has one shot to fix what's broken, but there's an obstacle and he's struggling. pairing: calum hood x reader (gender-neutral) genre: fluff, angst, classmates to friends to lovers au, college au warning(s): overuse of the word ridiculous because it's fitting, cursing? to be expected honestly, some grammar mistakes (it's been a while, english sucks), umm probably a lot of repeating, edited but not really, cal is going through it :^( word count: 4k words (yippee!)

a/n: after over 2 years (fuck), part 8 is finally here! this series is almost over, too! super duper sorry it took so damn long, i wasn't planning on this taking so long (check out my last update), but after lots of tears, part 8 is now being posted! this has been a journey, so i'm just gonna shut my mouth and let y'all finally read! but really quick, here are some links to help palestinians as they continue their fight for freedom and survival: link, link, link. free palestine 🍉

intro | i | ii | iii | iv | v | vi | vii | viii current | ix series masterlist! | main masterlist!

The nuanced meanings behind common New Year’s quotes have a strong grip on the world. Ideologies once wise have lost their meaning, opening the doors to terrible interpretations.

You only realize this when you begin to follow the “New Year, New Me” idea.

Wanting to break away from the “you” from last year, you started making changes. You moved your bedroom furniture around, took down some decorations you had up since high school, then put up new ones that you bought with holiday money, and added some more pillows to your bed – a change of scenery in your bedroom is a good start.

You even changed your school bag, switching out your folders and binders to new ones. During the redecorating process, you came across some old pens from your past school years that still had ink. They’ve now found a new home in your pencil pouch.

Were you doing too much? Sure, but did you find it to be helpful? Absolutely.

Jessie laughed when you told them about the changes you made – not necessarily in a mean way, they assured you, but in a way that they thought you were joking only to quickly change their view when they realized you were serious.

“I’m not saying it’s ridiculous,” they told you over the phone, “and I’m not judging you in any way, but I do think you’re overreacting.”

“Maybe I am,” you had retorted, “but I think all of this will help me in the long run.”

Jessie sighed then, agreeing with you before switching to a new topic.

However, now, as you sat in your English class with a few minutes left before class started, you found yourself wondering if Jess was right.

Sitting at your seat, messing with the corner of your notebook with your nails, twirling a pen in the other, your focus is on the door.

Over the break, after finding out who your partners were, you did your best to be a good project partner and help out with the pre-project preparation. But the dread that filled your stomach during the break when you saw and responded to their messages was back ten-fold.

You had given yourself pep talks throughout the day, trying to ready yourself for the inevitable awkward energy that was about to engulf you. The messages exchanged during the break have been cordial; no mentions of personal life (or feelings) with the occasional holiday greeting. You would like to believe that both Calum and Ashton didn’t feel as awkward as you did, but knowing there’s an elephant in the room that needs to be addressed and both parties know of it only makes it worse.

Maybe Calum won’t bring it up? It could be possible that he will just pretend nothing happened. It seems like a good thing but then it could hurt knowing he brushed everything off, especially when you got your feelings hurt. Or maybe, Ashton won’t try to play peacemaker and be solely focused on the project? Maybe both of them will be too invested in the project and that’s all you three will talk about—huh?

A content sigh to your right breaks you out of your thoughts.

“Have any luck so far this new year?” Ashton asks, a warm smile on his face as he places his bag on his desk.

You only shake your head with a small shrug, suddenly not knowing how to continue a conversation.

“Same here,” Ashton continues, “I thought it would be my year right at the start, but I guess I have to wait for it.” His own statement elicits a chuckle from him, his focus shifting from you to his bag to get his material out.

“It’ll come,” you speak up before you can stop yourself.

Ashton offers another smile, attention still on his bag as he sifts through the multiple notebooks. “I hope so.”

It isn’t long before the rest of the class starts filing in. You notice how many are sitting in different spots compared to where they sat last semester, noting quite a handful of empty seats from those who dropped the class.

“I’m not late, am I?” Another voice interrupts your thoughts, but this time you cannot bring yourself to face the owner.

Ashton scoffs, “It’s the first day back, shouldn’t you know when class starts?” He eyes his friend as he takes the empty seat next to him.

“Like you said,” Calum places his bag on his lap, “first day back.”

The awkward atmosphere you dreaded starts to make itself known. You can only wonder if the other two feel it, but you’re unable to dig into it as your professor walks in.

“I assume you’re sitting with your partners because we are going over a few things before I let you all get to work.”

¸.*☆*¸.*♡*.¸¸.*☆*¸.*♡*.¸

It would be a lie to say that the entirety of the class was not that bad.

You and Calum probably made direct eye contact twice the entire time, and one of them was an accident. Ashton was an angel, at least in your opinion. He kept the dialogue going between the three of you when either Calum or you could not contribute – and he did not mind it at all – but most importantly, he did not point out any of the awkwardness within the group. If he noticed, he didn’t mention it, and you are grateful for that.

When class ended, you were deadset on leaving, needing your favorite treat and drink from the campus café to help yourself reset for the day. However, despite your obvious attempts at trying to exit as soon as you were dismissed, Ashton was able to keep you seated.

“Are you sure you want to do all the writing?” He asks.

You shrug, “I mean, I don’t mind doing the writing portion.”

Ashton looks at Calum for his input to which he only mimics your shrug.

He withholds a sigh, refraining from shaking his head at his friend before speaking up, “How about this: you do the writing portion, Calum and I work on the PowerPoint and the presentation.”

If it gets you out of speaking in front of the class and eliminates the risk of you stumbling over your words, you’ll take it.

“Yeah,” you nod, “I’m cool with that.”

Ashton smiles, clapping his hand on Calum’s shoulder before standing. He lifts his bag from the desk, checking the time on his phone before placing it into his back pocket, “Let’s meet at the library, say, around 5pm? Then we can work together.”

You smile back at him in agreement, “Sounds good.”

Ashton waves as you take off, oblivious to his friend’s narrowed stare until he turns to face him.

“What was that?” Calum asks, not easing up on his stare.

Ashton hums in confusion, and if he’s joking or not, Calum cannot tell.

“That,” Calum juts his chin towards the door, “what was all that?”

Ashton snorts, “Calum, haven’t you heard? There’s this new thing called ‘being friendly.’”

Ashton turns to leave, knowing Calum will follow behind, and is rolling his eyes at Ashton’s attempt at a joke.

“Ha ha,” Calum laughs sarcastically.

“Seriously, I’m just being friendly, Cal.”

And Calum knows. It isn’t out of the ordinary for Ashton to be friendly—it’s out of the ordinary if Ashton isn’t friendly, for that matter—but he thinks there’s more to it. Where did all this come from? When did this happen? He knows you two weren’t strangers, there was some familiarity for sure, but it feels like it’s out of nowhere.

“Yeah, I know,” Calum starts, but he falters, trying to piece together his next sentence. He doesn’t want to pry, because knowing Ashton, he’ll try to dissect whatever Calum is thinking or feeling.

Calum’s thoughts are interrupted when he bumps into Ashton.

“What’s going on with you?” Ashton questions, eyeing Calum up before pulling him to the side to avoid the foot traffic surrounding them.

“What do you mean?” Calum shrugs, “Nothing’s wrong.”

Ashton raises his eyebrows, another question on the tip of his tongue. He lowers his voice, leaning closer to Calum, “Is this about what happened before the break?”

Calum’s quick to respond, shaking his head as he adjusts his bag’s strap. “Not about that.”

Ashton doesn’t believe him for a second. He picked up on his behavior throughout the class; the glances between himself and you, the short responses, the way his posture changed when he felt the atmosphere grow awkward.

“Well,” he claps, “I need to meet with some admins, so I’ll catch up with you later.”

He bids goodbye to Calum before heading to the administration building, leaving Calum stewing in his thoughts and knowing he’s hiding more than he’s letting on.

¸.*☆*¸.*♡*.¸¸.*☆*¸.*♡*.¸

If every person on the planet had a handful of do-overs given to them when they were born, many would have used them up before they were 21. Calum is sure he’d be in the majority.

He knows he’s made many mistakes in his life, and he would go back in time and re-do plenty of things. The one thing he currently desires to change is his behavior before the break.

As he sat in class, watching the dynamic between himself and you felt foreign. He knows he’s the cause of it, but he cannot fathom how you two went from classmates, to friends, and back to classmates within a short time.

He knows it’s ridiculous to think about this and to dwell over what could’ve been instead of trying to move on is something he’s struggled with for years. He’s getting better, but progress can only move so fast.

“A simple apology is a start,” his sister points at him with her fork as they sit at the table for breakfast. “It’s not much—the damage is done—but it opens the door. The path you take from there is up to you.”

Calum moves the food around on his plate, staring blankly at the movement while he forms a new question.

“What if she doesn’t forgive me?”

A snort escapes her nose, making Calum’s head jerk up, “What was that for?”

His sister shakes her head, a small but pitiful smile on her face, “It is what it is. Sometimes an apology is better than none, and sometimes it’s the other way around. If you know what you did was wrong, and you can own up to it and acknowledge how much what you did hurt someone else, then it’s good. But if you don’t see eye-to-eye, and stay mum about how your words were perceived, then it’s best to not apologize at all. Go from there.”

Calum squints his eyes, pausing before opening his mouth, “Are you still tired?”

She shrugs, leaning forward to eat her food, “I don’t know. Probably.”

The break helped Calum, not as much as he wanted to, but enough to give him a push. He had planned to email you an apology, then switched to a text, before ultimately deciding a phone call would be meaningful. But as soon as he opened up your contact, he could not bring his finger to tap the call button.

He’s chickened out multiple times. He’s hyped himself up only to give up at the last second.

Over the break, during the countless hours he spent thinking about The Incident (and you, of course), Calum recalled the moments he’d spent with you both in college and high school. Moments that seemed so small and fleeting were constantly playing in his mind. Calum remembered how you were in high school and compared these memories to the college version; he felt happy for you. You weren’t the same person and yet, exuded the same comfort and friendliness – always welcoming. And he flipped that progress in one day all because he let his insecurities take over. 

Calum likes you. He’s not afraid to admit it (or admit it to himself, at least), and he no longer wants his past relationship and the fears that came from it to ruin any more chances. 

The talk he had with his sister helped clear his mind, but he was still at a loss as to how to go about all of this.  Regardless, he is ready, he wants to fix what was broken, and he wants to do it before it’s too late. 

Which is why he’s practically frazzled by the time the session comes around. He’s sat in the library with Ashton sitting across from him, leg nervously bouncing, fingers twirling his pen constantly only to drop from the shakiness. Calum still couldn’t shake off this weird feeling. Ashton’s attitude toward you earlier still had him asking questions, mostly trying to figure out if anything happened between them over the break. That old, familiar voice in his head that pushed his insecurities is demanding to be known. He’s nervous as hell.

“Calum,” Ashton begins, putting his phone down to give Calum his full attention, “what’s with you today?” 

Calum shakes his head, “Nothing.” 

“Bullshit,” Ashton retorts, ignoring the annoyed stares from the students around them. “You’ve been weird since this morning. What’s eating you?” 

A sigh creeps out before Calum can stop it. “Can we talk outside?” He asks before standing up. 

Ashton shrugs and follows Calum to the side exit, leaving their items behind to keep their table. Once outside, he motions for Calum to speak. Calum lets another sigh out. 

“I think,” he begins, pausing briefly before shaking his head, “no, I know-I know I like Reader.” 

Ashton raises his eyebrows, signaling that he wants more from Calum. He gets nothing but a look of near-distress from Calum, and he knows it took a lot for him to admit his feelings.

He inhales, noticing a growing sense of worry in Calum’s eyes. “Calum,” he starts, placing a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder to keep his mind steady.

“I thought a lot over the break—” Calum interrupts, “—and talked to people I trust, I know this is how I feel. But I’m at a loss, man.”

Ashton removes his hand, opting to rest it behind his neck while nervously looking around. He opens his mouth to take control of the conversation but is cut off again.

“I like them, and I think I have since before, I guess, my insecurities took over. The feeling is mutual but I was too chicken shit to take the wheel and make a move. Then I ran my mouth and ruined what really could’ve been a great thing.”

Ashton’s eyes shift from behind Calum to Calum’s eyes. “Is that how you feel?” He asks.

Calum nods, “I want to fix this, and I want to see what we could’ve been—what we could be. I just need to figure out how and when.”

Ashton keeps his eyes on Calum, nodding once before inhaling. “I’m proud of you, Cal; I know admitting that wasn’t an easy feat for you. I know all that stuff with, you know, her,” he clears his throat, “but I have to be honest with you bud. I’m not sure you can do it.”

Calum squints at him, confusion settling on his features.

Ashton shrugs, “I don’t mean that in a bad way. I mean,” he sighs, hands gesturing randomly, “in a sense, going from point A to point B, then getting so close to point C and falling right back to point A—it’s not going to be easy. Maybe won’t work at all.”

A pit forms in Calum’s stomach. He’s turned off by Ashton’s words, but there’s a lot of truth in them. He just didn’t expect them to come from his best friend. “I know, but I’m still going to try.”

Ashton smiles. The determination is new, almost foreign. Admirable, even.

“Let’s head back in,” Ashton nods to the door, patting Calum on the back to get him moving.

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The soft clicking of your keyboard is the only noise Calum can focus on. At first, it was his own heartbeat, but he got used to the sound quickly enough to ignore it. He’s hardly contributed anything to the project, chiming in only when asked. He’s a bad project partner, he’s very aware of that, but his mind is nowhere near where it should be for the project.

Suddenly, he feels like he’s back in high school, having a chat with his crush and he’s completely losing it on the inside. Trying to remain calm and keep a cool front, but in reality, he wants to kick his feet and cover his face with a bashful smile. But at the same time, he wants to curl up and hide.

The tension is building up, and it seems like he is the only one to feel it.

“Calum?” Ashton’s voice breaks him out of his reverie.

Calum hums in response, “Sorry?”

A ghost of a smile plays on Ashton’s lips as he turns to face Calum. “I asked what you thought of this section.” He points to a jumbled of words in his notebook gauging Calum’s reaction.

Calum stumbles in his mind, trying to think of something so he doesn’t look like an idiot in front of you. Thankfully, though, Ashton beats him to it.

“Y’know what? We’ve been at this for a while now. Let’s end it here and meet up tomorrow. Same time.”

Calum can only breathe a sigh of relief as you agree, seemingly unaware of Calum’s inner turmoil.

¸.*☆*¸.*♡*.¸¸.*☆*¸.*♡*.¸

Every session has Calum wanting to burst. He knows he’s making things even more awkward (if that was even possible at this point) but he cannot bring himself to focus and act normal. Ashton wasn’t helping either.

During these get-togethers, he’s noticed how “friendly” Ashton has been towards you. He tried to ignore it, not overthink it but to avail. His mind continued to drift further and further into all of it, with every single interaction being scrutinized.

It’s ridiculous, and at this point, he should get this statement tattooed on every visible part of his body.

Calum sits, staring at his laptop screen, thinking of what goofy effects he should use for the slides to help pass the time (at least until he’s spoken to).

“Hey,” Ashton taps Calum’s arm to get his attention, “I’m going to the bathroom.”

Calum nods, slowly realizing he’s going to be alone with you for the first time in a while. He can feel his palms getting clammy, growing flustered now that it’s completely silent at the table. No keyboard tapping, now pens on paper scribbling notes, no pages turning—straight silence.

He sneaks glances over the top of his laptop screen. In the back of his mind, he’s thinking of the words he wants to say with the ones he’s never said.

“Calum?” You speak up, eyes still down at your book as you move it toward him, finger pointed at a sentence. “Does this sentence make sense?”

His eyes shift from you to where your finger is. He has no idea how to respond. What do you mean? He’s been zoned out for almost the entire project, he can barely even remember what this project is about! You’ve been on his mind to the point that almost everything goes in one ear and out the other. But he has to come up with something quick before the silence grows awkward.

He stumbles over his words, trying to sound confident and smart, “I… understand words.”

What?

You finally look at him, eyes meeting his for what feels like the first time since The Incident™.

His response repeats in his mind, and he feels horrified. ‘I understand words.’ That’s his response? His “smart” answer? That was the best that he had, and now he wants nothing more but to run and hide.

“What?” You ask, though the upward inflection in your tone seemed more like you didn’t hear him than not understanding what he said. At least, that’s what he hopes.

“I said,” Calum starts, quickly trying to think of something clever to save himself. He clears his throat, “It’s worded weird, yeah.”

You only offer a nod in response before redirecting both the book and your eyes back to continue your work.

If Ashton saw what went down just now, he would lose it and make sure Calum never forgets it.

¸.*☆*¸.*♡*.¸¸.*☆*¸.*♡*.¸

“How did it go?” Ashton asks once you’ve left the library.

The three of you finished shortly before 9pm. While Calum packed up his belongings in silence, he watched the two of you talk, and he didn’t want to believe it—maybe he’s reading too into it—but there’s no denying the chemistry you and Ashton have.

Whatever’s built up over these sessions is showing, and he can only admit one thing.

He’s jealous.

Jealous over how easy it is for Ashton to talk to you despite Ashton’s association with him after what went down. Jealous of how easy it seems for Ashton to make you smile. Jealous of how everything feels so… flirty between you two.

He feels like there’s nothing he can do. He made his bed so he has to lay in it. But it doesn’t mean he has to like it.

Ashton raises his hand to Calum’s face, snapping his fingers to get his attention. He tilts his head, “You there?”

“Yeah,” Calum nods, “just got caught up in my thoughts.”

Ashton hums, not oblivious to exactly what Calum could be thinking of. “What’s bothering you?”

Calum thought he’d be able to provide a quick answer, but the thoughts came pouring back, remembering your smiles directed at Ashton, the jokes, the comments that just bordered flirting, and how you’d give it to him right back. Calum can’t keep hiding away, shying from what he wants. Right now, however, he just wants answers, clarification specifically.

Calum says your name, earning an eyebrow raise from Ashton, “Do you like them?”

A snort comes out before Ashton can stop himself, followed by a short laugh, “What?”

Calum stays silent, face unwavering, not at all finding this a laughing matter.

Ashton composes himself, his humorous demeanor dying down once he realizes the gravity of the situation.

“I’m serious,” Calum iterates, crossing his arms over his chest. He’s standing tall, but the placement of his arms being lower than one would expect from someone trying to be intimidating gives away the true emotion at the forefront: insecurity.

A beat of silence passes as the two watch each other. Calum believes he knows the answer, and he’s just being overdramatic.

Ashton sighs, “No, Cal. I don’t like them, not like that.”

“Do they know that?”

Calum knows he sounds so damn bitter. The small shrug he receives as a response only makes him feel worse.

“Look,” Ashton breathes, “what happened between you two, happened. If you want something to start between the two of you, then do something. I’m not going to walk on eggshells around you both. I’m going to be a friend, okay?”

That should bring Calum some relief, but it doesn’t settle the ache at the bottom of his stomach. Ashton’s right; he shouldn’t have to alter himself for the sake of Calum’s issue just to make him feel better. It’s childish, and both he and Ashton think it’s time for change.

He rubs his hands over his face, muttering an apology to his best friend.

Ashton eyes his friend with weary eyes. He knows the entire situation is taking a toll, and he can only watch helplessly as Calum navigates the jumble of emotions.

They bid each other goodbye before heading back to their homes.

One thing is certain. Calum needs to act fast, and he needs to act now.

Lying on his bed in his room later that night, his eyes glued to his phone with his fingers hovering over the keyboard. He’s staring at your contact image—a picture from one of the yearbooks from high school, you absolutely despise the picture, but Calum loved how awkward you looked—heavily debating if he should do this.

“Just send the text,” he whispers to himself, “you can do it.”

The phone slips slightly, but just enough for his finger to tap send.

Delivered.

Read.

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taglist: @rexorangecouny // @hungrycrazy // @itjustkindahappenedreally (sorry it took 2 years)

[urlibragirl]

summary : you and eren were childhood friends, but you guys drifted apart. One day, Eren decide to stick the pieces back.

warnings/content : mdni!, fem!reader, jealous!eren, eren is a virgin, little bit of angst, p in v intercourse, unprotected sex, oral sex(m receiving)

word count : 1271

Sighing heavily, Eren rubbed his forehead as he tried to recall the events leading up to your falling out. You guys had been inseparable during childhood, always playing together and sharing secrets. But somewhere along the line, things changed. 

He remembered the day clearly, it was after Jean had joined your group of friends. There was something different about you, you seemed happier, more confident. And yet, at the same time, she seemed distant too. Like there was part of herself that kept hidden even from him.

Grinning widely, you clapped your hands excitedly as you talked to your friends about the tv-show you watched the night before. Your laugh echoed through the hallways, drawing attention from everyone around you.

You may have been known for being somewhat wild and carefree, but there was no denying that people enjoyed being around you. Even though Eren preferred quieter gathering, he couldn’t help but admire your ability to light up any room you entered. Watching you interact with others made your heart ache just a little bit more. 

He wished things could go back to how they used to be, but he knew that ship had sailed long ago. Instead, he forced himself to focus on his studies, hoping that one day he might finally gain control over his feelings. Little did he know, your paths were destined to cross again under unexpected circumstances.

One fateful evening during winter break, Armin hosted a party at his place which included most members of their original friendship circle. Despite initially declining due to personal reasons, Eren eventually caved in under pressure from Mikasa and Jean who insisted he needed some time off studying. Reluctantly agreeing, he arrived at Armin’s house.

As the night wore on and the party reached its peak, Eren found himself drawn to you, despite the animosity that had grown between you two over the years. With a determined stride, he made his way through the crowd until he stood in front of you, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Hey," he said, trying to keep his voice casual despite the butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

You glanced at him, “Oh, hey Eren,” you answered “It’s been a long time.”

You guys stood in awkward silence for a moment, the weight of your unresolved issues hanging heavy in the air.

“Look, I didn’t mean to ignore you or act like a jerk. It’s just that seeing you with Jean made me realize how much I missed having you around. We were best friends since forever, and suddenly, you were gone. I tried to move on, but my heart wouldn’t listen. So yeah, maybe I acted immaturely sometimes, but deep down, I was hurting too.” 

Your eyes widened in surprise as you listened to Eren pouring his heart out. You hadn’t expected such honesty from him. For once, he sounded vulnerable instead of aloof. “There’s also something I need to tell you,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper. “Something I’ve been wanting to say for quite a while now…” You paused for effect, taking a deep breath before continuing.

“The truth is, I’m in love with you. From the moment we met all those years ago, I knew there was something special between us. And as time went by, that feeling only grew stronger.” you finally said.

“But what about Jean?” Eren asked with a surprised tone. “Oh, with Jean it wasn’t anything serious,” you said. “It’s going to sound horrible but both of us needed someone to forget about the friend they were in love with, me with you and him with Mikasa, but apparently it wasn’t really effective”

“So why didn’t you say something?” he asked. “Well, I could ask the same thing to you Eren?” you answered, teasing him a little bit.

“I guess I was just scared,” he admitted sheepishly. “ Afraid that maybe you really had moved on without me – I’ve missed you Y/N,” he confessed, his voice shaking. “More than you’ll ever know”.

As your faces drew closer, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of intense emotion. Your hearts raced in unison, beating wildly against your chests as you prepared yourselves for whatever laid ahead.  Finally, after what felt like an eternity, your lips met in a tender, passionate kiss.

It was as if all the pent-up frustration and sorrow from your tumultuous past had suddenly vanished, replaced by a powerful wave of desire and affection. Time stood still as you were both lost in the moment, savoring every second of your long-awaited reunion. 

When you guys finally pulled apart, you gazed into each other's eyes, lost in the depths of each other's souls. "I love you, Eren," you whispered, your voice shaking slightly with emotion. "And I love you too, Y/N," he replied, his voice equally strained.

As your lips parted, Eren found himself struggling to catch his breath. This was new territory for him; he had never experienced such intense passion before. He looked into your eyes, wondering if she felt the same way. 

To his relief, he saw a mix of lust and tenderness reflected back at him. Gently guiding you towards the nearby bedroom, he led you inside and closed the door behind you. The room was dimly lit, casting eerie shadows across the walls. 

Undressing each other slowly, you were revealed in the sight of each other's naked forms for the first time. Despite being a virgin, Eren couldn't hide his excitement or nervousness. You sensed his apprehension and decided to take charge. 

Kneeling down beside him, you ran your hands up his thighs, stopping just short of his erection. Looking into his eyes, you gave him a reassuring smile before taking him into your mouth. Eren let out a moan as you teased him expertly, sucking gently on his cock while running your tongue along its length. 

Overwhelmed by pleasure, he reached down to touch your hair, encouraging you to continue. As you worked him over with your skilled tongue, he couldn't help but wonder how lucky he was to have found someone like you. 

Meanwhile, you moved up to straddle Eren's lap, grinding your hips against him suggestively. You wanted this to be special for him, and you intended to make sure it was. Slowly lowering yourself onto his hardened member, you gasped as you felt him slide inside your wet folds. It was tighter than he expected, but in a good way. 

You began moving up and down, meeting his thrusts halfway as you both sought release. The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the air, punctuated by gasps of pleasure from both parties involved. Eren grabbed hold of your hips, pulling you closer as he buried himself deeper inside your warmth with each stroke. 

Your rhythm became faster and more urgent as you neared climax. Just when it felt like neither of you could take another moment, you both cried out in ecstasy, your bodies shuddering together as you reached orgasm simultaneously.

"Oh god," Eren groaned, his voice hoarse from exertion. "That was incredible." He pulled you closer, burying his face in your neck as he savored the scent of your skin. "I don't think I've ever felt anything like that before." You smiled contentedly, tracing gentle circles on his back. "Oh don’t worry, we're just getting started." 

With renewed energy, you two began exploring each other's bodies once more, lost in the heat of the moment. Every touch sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, heightening your senses and deepening your connection. 

a/n : i wrote this at 2 a.m, so there might be grammar mistakes sorry