#i was going to have it be awkward and both parties angsting while things more or less went on as normal
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theskeletoninthegarden · 2 years ago
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Me, plotting before bed: Alright, in this scene there will be a minor misunderstanding that will ultimately lead to a deeper affection between X and Y.
Me, the morning of writing said scene: But actually the misunderstanding was immediately cleared up, Y more or less proposed, and X is as heartsick as ever, but happy about it
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star2fishmeg · 6 months ago
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ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴡʀᴀᴘs
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[4.4k] Pairing | bsf!Luke Hughes x bsf!afab!reader Summary | luke and y/n are tired of feeling left behind and help each other out…but in the company of their friends. but it makes a good story, right? Warnings | 18+ smut, kinda slow start, best friends to lovers, long haired luke!!! Bc I love long hair, umich!luke, (basically public) fingering, swearing, appearance and sex insecurities, tiny bit of angst but not really, mutual pining, making out Authors Note | im in such a luke brainrot it’s painful, this was supposed to be a blurb but I can’t control myself but anyway, this is my first hockey fic i hope its alright. Based on this after hours post! This is a work of fiction, please remember that my dudes
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Luke felt like a creep. But she looked so at peace sitting on the lake's docks, feet dangling and toes skimming the water's surface. While she was nothing but a silhouette in the distance, the sunset cascading on the horizon complimenting her like a portrait in a museum. He also wasn’t sure on how long he’d been standing at the sliding patio doors, the UMich boy’s voices blended out into a white noise while his mind wandered to crevices of thoughts he’d been avoiding for months, but anything to escape Ethan and Luca’s conversations about girlfriend stories. Yes, he was happy for them, found it cute in fact, but when was it his turn to have that chapter in his life? He could have it if he didn’t panic and fumble at every party they threw, just a bit more alcohol and maybe he’d have a chance but like all victims of tragedy, no one would ever be her. Could ever replace her or even substitute her. So, while his curls bounced in the gentle breeze, Luke Hughes admired the only girl in the University of Michigan that’s ever made his heart ache and contort in bittersweet ways.
With a firm slap to his back, Luke’s daydream snapped back to reality, to Dylan Duke grinning and wiggling his eyebrows. The most painful thing Dylan had to endure since he met Luke was watching his friend follow y/n like a lost puppy begging for attention, and there was nothing more he wanted than for the two to just kiss already. They almost did, once, at someone’s birthday party when they both nursed a bottle of tequila. But Dylan never told them that, he wasn’t entirely sure if he dreamt it, if he was honest.
“Just go talk to her, be honest,” Dylan said with a light chuckle, nudging Luke towards the porch steps.
Luke’s legs stopped stiff, and spun to face Dylan in protest, “No! What do I even say? ‘Oh, hey y/n I know we’ve been friends for a while, but I’m in love with you haha hope this doesn’t make it awkward’? Like, come on.” With the way Dylan’s grin turned almost menacing, Luke felt his heart almost stop, his stupidity catching up with him, “This stays between us, Duker.”
He groaned and watched Dylan giggle his way back inside. Wingman or menace? Fine line, but at least he was better than Jack. Who quite literally tried trapping him and y/n in a closet when he found out, hoping for the best. Perhaps Dylan would actually help him get somewhere, he’d spent many parties coaxing Luke into making a move but Luke being the humble soul he took pride in, let her have her peace. Oh, how much he regretted it every time he heard her laugh because of another guy.
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Thankfully the docks were at the far end of his garden, out of earshot and almost out of sight, if you weren’t spying. He stood silently, just taking in her very existence alone. If she weren’t wearing his hoodie so proudly, he would’ve sat down by now but the heat that flushed into his cheeks prominently just had to ease before he could show his face. Maybe she’d find it cute that his face flushed so easily, or maybe she’d think he was a fool for thinking he had a chance. Girls were hard to read, so many codes and hints, he couldn’t keep up with them all and God forbid you had an ugly code name. Watching her like that did raise the thought, what was his code name? Did he really want to know?
“I can feel you starin’,” her voice chimed, their eyes meeting as she craned her neck, “you gonna join or just stand?”
Luke’s lips pulled into his famous half-smirk, “I like lookin’ at pretty things, can you blame a man?” He sat next to her, thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder like they usually did, the weight of his boldness lifting off his chest. “What’s runnin’ through that mind of yours?”
“Who said I was thinking about anything? Maybe I was finally catching a break from the zoo. Maybe I was thinking that you need a haircut.” Her laugh was like music to his ears, her voice his favourite song and every word that rolled off her tongue felt like ecstasy surging through him and freezing the world around them.
Spending a summer in a lake house was the only way y/n ever wanted to live. An oasis of serenity and laughs, endless memories, and an escape. But while she dipped her toes in the water, watching her reflection ripple, the everlasting thought that it was fleeting crawled its way back to the surface whether she wanted it to or not. The boys had been doing this longer than she had, it was her first time at the lake house and possibly her last. But there was nothing wrong with enjoying it while it lasted, being trapped under the same roof as the boys wasn’t as bad as she’d assumed. Except for the smells, they were straight-up disrespectful. Would she still love it as much if she was with other friends? Hard to say, if Luke was there, everything would be fine. Maybe a couple more girls would’ve been nice too, though.
“Please, you’re staring blankly, don’t try me.” Luke scoffed playfully, shoulder gently nudging hers as she rolled her eyes, unable to resist a gleaming smile. As much as she wanted to rebuttal, he was right. They’d met on the first week of university, Luke starting hockey practice and y/n starting as their new social girl and since then the pair of them had been two peas in a pod. Completely enamoured with each other, attached at the hip, where Luke went, he’d bring y/n, his person.  “Wait, you think I need a haircut? Is it that bad?”
She laughed, Luke, stooping so she could thread her fingers through his unruly curls gently, something only she was allowed to do, “Nah, I like your hair long, cut it and I’ll cut you.” They pulled back, sitting in their original postures and watched the sun’s pinks fade to oranges, “I was thinking about how many girls you’ve brought here.”
He blinked twice, turning his head slowly to face her and to his surprise his eyes met hers. There was a gloss to them, illuminated brightly by the sunset but like glass as if she were about to break. Heart beating in his ears, he licked his lips, almost quivering when he began to speak.
“Just you.” His voice just above a whisper, husky, “Only you. Always you.” Their gazes lingered, and his eyes fluttered to her lips for just a split second before he found himself licking his lips again, feeling his throat dry at the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled. His heart ached, he didn’t have half the guts the Fantilli brothers did, if he had then maybe he would’ve at least wrapped his arm around her. Instead, he sat like he was paralysed, just shoulder to shoulder as she rubbed her bare foot against his leg, their skins touching, lighting little fires up his body and his stomach gaining a warmth he’d only felt in the after-hours of his bedroom.
“Lu?” she rested her head on his shoulder, staring back out towards the horizon, “Do you ever feel like you’re so far behind the people around you? Like you’re missing out.”
Luke leaned his head against hers, almost nuzzling into it as he thought. It was a heavy question, one that’d been weighing on her for a while. Or he assumed, considering she’d never openly asked the group. That’s what made him feel special. Her feet hung still, ending their teasing game and just fell limp. He exhaled, could he let his pride go and agree? Or could he completely one-up himself and disagree, which made him braver? He loathed the storms she started in him, thoughts he never imagined he would think in his hockey brain. One girl could change his entire train of thought, change his heartbeat, change his mood. One woman he pined like a lost puppy over.
“Sometimes. What do you mean?”
“Like, all my friends have these insane hook-ups and embarrassing sex stories and I have nothing. Yeah, I’ve had boyfriends before, but I was younger and stupid then. I go out with my friends and I’m basically invisible to any guy who approaches us, just feel unlovable. And now here I am, twenty years old and a fucking virgin with little experience and no wild stories.” She vented, barely taking a breath as the words spilt from her mouth. Luke’s chest twisted, his face softening when she snuggled into his side. “I don’t know where I’m going wrong, Lu.”
He paused and bit his lip when he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her body into his chest. She melted into his touch, getting a whiff of his woody, amber cologne, her favourite one at that, the one he always wore. She’d never had the chance to properly relish in his touch, was his chest always this firm? Arms always bring this much security? Fuck, when did his hand get so sexy when on her body, gliding down her arm to nestle in the curve of her waist. With her ear pressed to him, the thundering in his chest surrendered his cover entirely. Cool and collected Luke Hughes was secretly a bumbling mess.
“I get you.” he finally spoke, ears burning when her finger traced shapes on his thigh, “My entire life has been hockey, so not a lot of space for experiences either. Not enough time for relationships between practice and games, development camps and time with family. A lot of the girls who liked me didn’t really like that. That or they liked my brothers and friends more, they are a lot more attractive than me, so I don’t blame them. M’just average.”
Y/n pulled away almost instantly, her eyebrows knitted and jaw agape. For a moment she thought she heard him wrong, ‘a lot more attractive than me’, ‘just average’? Delving into Luke’s psyche turned out to be an entirely different road trip than she had thought, heartstrings tugged as her lips fell to a frown. Who in the world made him feel like that? Who did she need to hunt down? But then again, Luke’s blood boiled hearing how insignificant she felt and who exactly made her think that to start with?
“Luke Hughes you are not average! You’re the hottest guy I know!” she yelped, the hand that drew gentle patterns now clutching his thigh tight. Luke gulped but didn’t retract away from the noise. His brain was too busy short-circuiting over the fact her fingers were dangerously close to his crotch, doing his best to contain himself with slow breaths, “They just didn’t give you a chance, if they really knew you, they’d be heads over heels. You’re so fucking smart, and passionate. And-and if they saw you smile for real, not a half-smile, your full smile with your teeth, the one that feels like a warm summer’s day. It’s their loss, they’ll never know how sweet you are, that after a bad game, you want steak and head scratches, that you’re sentimental as fuck- like you wear that Yankees hat because Quinn got it for you when you fell ill and couldn’t make the game. You’re not average.”
Luke blinked, once, twice and thrice as her eyes bored into his, glazed with fire as the words tumbled from her mouth and circled his head. He watched the way her body rose and fell as she caught her breath, the grip on his thigh tightening and heat rising through his body. He felt the sweat building on the back of his neck, his collar suddenly becoming too tight. She thought he was hot? She remembered such little details about him like they’d known each other since they were kids. The hand around her waist slid to her lower back, his thumb rubbing the fabric of her (his) hoodie unconsciously.
He smiled, his warm smile she mentioned, where his eyes wrinkled and his chin tilted up triumphantly, “The hottest guy you know, huh?”
Y/n’s face dropped. Never in her life had she experienced her heart stop the way it did hearing those words. She stared like a deer in headlights, she slipped up and the heat rushing to her cheeks burned. This is what happens when you let your feelings take over, you make a fool of yourself in front of the one person who would never want to. She sighed, hung her head and hid her face in her hands, the butterflies in her stomach choking her when Luke let out a saccharine chuckle that made all the flowers bloom.
Large, warm hands wrapped around her wrists with a feather touch, and slowly pulled her hands away from her face and into her lap, soothing her nerves with a gentle rubbing of her knuckles with his thumbs. Although his hands felt clammy, the tingling in his stomach became too addicting to care about it too much anymore.
“Don’t hide,” she was radiant under what was left of the tangerine hues, eyes almost sparkling, “let me see that pretty face.”
She hesitantly raised her head, eyes meeting his and her body relaxed. She had no idea why she was so embarrassed, he hadn’t gagged, laughed in her face nor had he physically repulsed. Instead, he looked at her like she’d hung out the stars for him, wide eyes with rose-tinted ears.
“I think you’re very pretty too. Beautiful even, I-“ he hesitated, “you have no idea how many times I’ve thought about kissing you, asking you out. Honestly, the idea of you rejecting me is terrifying so I never did, plus, I’ve never kissed anyone before, and I didn’t wanna fuck it up.”
Her eyes fluttered to his lips, the world around them falling silent until it was just them in their own bubble. Luke gulped, his eyeline following the way she flickered between his eyes and his mouth before he found their bodies leaning into one another, noses ghosting. His hands released her wrists, one arm snaking around her waist sending an electric tingle through her veins and holding her firmly close. They’d been this close before, sure. Multiple occasions of having his arms around the back of the sofa they sat snug on, arm hooked around her shoulders because some guy couldn’t get the memo at bars, in fact, the root cause of their problem was undeniably because everyone assumed they were together except them.
Y/n’s palm held his cheek tenderly, the hot, carnal desire to devour the boy only being released from its cage when he melted into her touch as if he was opening his doors to vulnerability.
“I can teach you if you like,” she whispered, her thumb tracing across his bottom lip. Luke’s fingers gripped her waist as if she couldn’t be any closer than she already was, but he couldn’t risk letting her slip from his grasp again. He wanted to erase all those other guys who’d kissed her, he would be the last guy on Earth to taste the lips that words and giggles laced with a honey-like sweetness that cradled his heart.
“God, please-“  his heart beat twice as fast, y/n leaning in, closing the gap between them and pressing her lips gently to his. If he were to die right there, he’d die the happiest man alive. Her lips were soft and warm, igniting every firework inside of him and adrenaline shaking him back to life. He could do this for hours, drinking in her citrus fragrance, lips mimicking the way she moved hers against his. If she was a match, he was kerosene and he’d let her set him ablaze over and over if it meant he could feel like the only man in the world until the end of time.
They pulled away, eyes fluttering open to an exchange of giggly smiles. Despite it being a closed-mouth kiss, nothing extra, just soft and sweet, Luke’s thoughts raced at a million miles per hour. All the weight on his shoulders lifted and he nuzzled into her palm, placing a kiss on it.
Y/n raised an eyebrow, his puppy-like gaze almost distracting her from how his skin burned pink in her palm. But in a way, all her previous anxieties dissipated like dust in the wind, tummy flipping at the pathetically sweet and lovestruck expression spread on Luke’s face, “Your face is so red. Are you okay?-”
“-Can we do that again?” He pleaded, quickly, desperately, a certain yearning feeling on his lips that he couldn’t quite describe, except that he needed to taste her again. He needed more, so much more to quench his thirst, a kind of fuzziness he felt in his core.
“Uh- yeah, let me show you what a real kiss is.” No hesitation was needed, y/n’s hand slid from his cheek to the nape of his neck, fingers carding through his curls as she roughly connected their lips again, messier, teeth chattering from the impact. Luke’s other hand found comfort on her thighs, pulling them over his lap and giving gentle squeezes, moaning when y/n bit his lower lip. He opened his mouth with ease, failing to hold back another moan when her tongue lapped his. He wasn’t sure how to react, he’d never made out with anyone and it’s not like his brothers would’ve explained it well either. So, he repeated her movement, his tongue dancing with hers with saliva lubricating their lips each time they dove back in to devour each other. Y/n tugged his curls lightly, pulling him closer, savouring the kindling arousal leaking into her panties with the way he craved her.
Luke pulled away to breathe, his chest heavy but shorts becoming tight with the intense and fiery eye contact that screamed nothing but lust, “You,” he kissed her again, fervently, “taste,” another kiss, “amazing.” He mumbled into her lips and their tongues stirred again, whimpers drawing from the back of her throat when his hand travelled further up her thigh, under her shorts and found solace on the skin only he could touch. Any further and she couldn’t promise she wouldn’t pounce, her underwear was soaked through and sticking to her folds and even one measly brush on her clit would open the floodgates.
A foreign burst of confidence washed over him, and he detached their lips, a string of saliva between them and her hand still tugging at his curls and whether intentional or not, he discovered something carnal clawing away inside him. Wetting his lips, he dove into her neck, planting wet kisses along her column and nipping in the hope of hearing her mewl again. Y/n tilted her head to the side, giving him free rein over her skin and her jaw slacking, whining his name with her thighs clenching together for any kind of friction. As he began to run his hand along her thigh, his pocket vibrated continuously, earning a growl to rumble from his throat.
“Fuck, why’d you stop?” y/n whined, hand falling from his hair to his chest. Luke pulled his phone from his pocket with a disgruntled look, of course, his moment was ruined. Swiping the notification away, he clicked his tongue, sliding his phone back into his shorts.
His arms wrapped around her waist, and looked back into her adoring yet disappointed eyes, “Dylan wants to know if we’re joining them for a movie.”
“I’m quite happy staying here with you.”
“Who says we have to watch the whole movie?”
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Silence hung over the living room, only the TV blaring and the light crunching of popcorn from different directions. The lights were off, just the TV and three boys crammed on one sofa, and three plus y/n on the other. Luke, y/n, Rutger and Adam on the sectional directly opposite the TV, Luke occupying the end with the chaise for his legs, and y/n sat between them and huddled under a blanket. Rutger sat in the middle with Adam on the furthest end. Dylan, Luca and Ethan huddled together on the sofa adjacent to the TV, popcorn littered between them from missing mouths and flinching.
Luke’s hands wrapped around her waist, keeping her snug against his chest while she slowly chewed Haribo’s, feeding them to him now and then. While his heart skipped beats, feeling like a meadow of tulips blooming in the Spring, y/n’s wiggling against his crotch lured all the heat and butterflies from earlier straight back to his stomach, sending it into twists and turns. Heat flushed to his neck when she pushed her arse back into him, in an innocent attempt to readjust. A deep exhale through his nose and his hands slithered to her thighs, fingers kneading the flesh like dough as his head dipped into her shoulder, breath hot on the skin and making her hairs stand on edge.
“Stop wigglin’, pretty girl,” he whispered into the shell of her ear, placing a kiss, “you’re drivin’ me crazy.”
She froze, body falling limp into his as he ran his hands under her hoodie, his stiffened cock poking into her backside as she caught on to what his problem was. The sex-deprived whore in her awakened with a jolt, his cock solid because of her, and there was nothing she wanted more than to feel him pressed up against her, unable to find his release and have the rasp of his voice reverberate through her being as her vibrator. 
“And if I don’t?” she whispered back, as close to him as possible without being heard. Instead of answering, Luke dipped his fingers down her shorts, middle finger brushing against her clothed clit. His eyes locked to the screen in front of him, resisting the urge to smirk when her breath hitched but continuing to glide his finger – in what was a lucky guess – over her bundle. She squirmed, clamping her thighs together, only to have them pried open by his free hand.
“Be a good girl and keep quiet, unless you want to be caught.” His playful tone sent chills down her spine, goosebumps swarming on her neck but melting into his touch. She plopped another sweet into her mouth, chewing intensely when Luke drew his long fingers away, only for her to feel them caress over her skin, cold on her warm body, and down her panties. To describe the sensation that zipped through her when the pad of his middle finger reunited with her clit would be the same shock if you were to be struck by lightning: sudden and sharp, rattling up the spine.
Y/n placed the bag of sweets in her lap, tucking both hands under the blanket with the hope of seeming less suspicious, but her hand skimmed down his arm and placed itself on his, slowly guiding his movements on her nub until he got the idea. Firm yet gentle circular movements, the slick seeping from her warm on his fingertips, so inviting he wished he could have a taste. She pulled the blanket to her chin, not only to cover Luke’s sudden mood but to form some form of distraction from the fuzzy feeling rising to her head. No, she’d never had this before, so the experience itself embraced her tight, addicting like nicotine.
He kissed her temple, two fingers sliding into her cunt almost perfectly, too perfect that another Haribo was abused between her teeth as her breathing struggled to remain neutral. The moan that would’ve slipped past if she hadn’t been concentrating would’ve been embarrassing enough. Luke began languid plunges into her, relishing in the way her walls squeezed his fingers tight, keeping shallow at first. The more her pussy swallowed him in their wetness, the faster his mind spiralled in greed and his pace sped up, y/n’s nails digging deep into his leg, leaving crescent shapes on the skin. The heat pooling in her stomach was riveting, knowing she would finally have an insane story to tell even more so. No one could say that Luke Hughes’ tongue tasted theirs like it was the best meal he’d ever lapped up and that he’d watched a movie with his friends while pushing the limits of both his and their sanity publicly.
With a rush of adrenaline and her nails marking him, he buried his fingers deep into her cunt, driving swiftly and curling in places that made her wriggle against him, his free hand having to hold her hips still with a bruising grip and his cock begged for attention in his shorts. Y/n popped two more sweets in her mouth, relying on their gummy nature to suppress the moans that threatened to tear through her as the knot inside her came dangerously close to snapping with the way he bullied her pussy with his bare hands. His breathing fell deep and shuddered, his heart infatuated with the ecstasy of finger-fucking the woman of his dreams in front of an entire room of his friends hammered in his chest while his face struggled to stay indifferent and jaw tight like his cock isn't throbbing violently and straining against her arse. Like she wasn’t bucking her hips into his touch like he couldn’t tell that her heart was going haywire because of just him alone. If this was what foreplay was like, the idea of piledriving balls deep in her until she couldn’t remember her name was divine.
He dragged out his last pumps, the knot in her stomach snapping and coating his fingers in hot, sticky release, kissing her temple upon her body physically shuddering. Y/n pulled the blanket up to her chin as if she had shivered naturally, stuffing her mouth into the fluffy material. Luke pulled his fingers out, wiping the residue on his shorts, practically drooling over the image of milking her dry. His arms snaked around her waist, snuggling close. Y/n sighed, slumping back into him. On the outside Luke was his collected and cool self, his breathing stable and attention on the movie, the heat in his face and hands that rested on her stomach, soothing her heart rate screamed that he was the happiest guy in the room. With every gentle stroke of his thumb on the flesh of her stomach, her heart soothed and her eyelids became increasingly heavier.
"Was that story worthy?" He whispered, kissing her cheek sweetly.
Luke’s pocket buzzed and he tutted, carefully sliding it from his pocket and unlocking it, trying his best to prevent the screen from blinding everyone.
Duker idk if ur freaky or brave u dog
Luke closed his phone and looked up towards Dylan, who sat with a shit-eating grin. He smiled and shook his head, mouthing a subtle, ‘this stays between us’.
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[Masterlist]
[Requests CLOSED]
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1d1195 · 3 months ago
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Honey VII
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Read Honey here | ~6.2k words
From me: I just want Harry to be jealous literally all the time. I'm sorry that's so toxic. I know Cece has aged like two months in a very short frame. But we're gonna slow time down a little. Only a few days are passing (if any) right now.
Warnings: angst - some more Miss Honey trauma, pining (both parties), fluff and some MORE angst
Summary: “Say bye, bye Daddy,” she whispered to her and kissed the top of her head. “Say bye, bye,” she repeated. Cece just giggled making her heart fill to the brim with love.
“Bye Miss Honey,” he hummed and hung up. “Well, Cece,” she turned the little one toward her and held her out in front of her before bringing her close. “I don’t know about you, but I think Daddy needs a pick-me-up."
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It was incredibly awkward for the next three days.
The weather was still crummy. The power continued to go out at random intervals. Harry had been working nonstop, coming home to see his baby before she went to bed but then getting right back to work in his home office. His goal was to make it so that when he took his leave, he wouldn’t have to do anything extra outside of the days he was going to go in. He decided he would have to go to work two days a week. Which days were best was still something he was figuring out.
Regardless, Miss Honey was leaving for the first two weeks of his leave, in which he would have uninterrupted Cece time. While that was grand, he was already dreading the days without her around as well.
He hoped the days he was home with her and Miss Cece were the days he was going to make her fall in love. Make him trust her. Make her believe that he loved her for her and not what she did.
How the fuck was he going to do that?
The awkwardness was most palpable when he got home from work. Mostly because she didn’t change a single thing about her routine. Dinner smelled delicious. The house was always clean, his laundry was folded. He found Cece and her giggling on the floor as they played with her toys.
All he wanted to do was kiss her and thank her for doing those things and being herself.
Then he wanted to strip her in the middle of the kitchen and enjoy her body like it was a meal she prepared especially for him.
But instead, he gave her space. He didn’t beg her to sit around and watch TV with him. She went to the basement and ran on the treadmill. When the pipes whined from her shower, Harry wondered if it was normal for him to be jealous of a shampoo bottle that got to see her naked form. Instead, he thanked her for dinner and asked how her day was. He tried not to think about how pretty she looked coming on his couch and how her smile made him feel like he had won a trophy.
They didn’t talk about their night together.
Even though it was just about the only thing he thought about when he was alone and not actively worrying about Cece. It was definitely the only thing he had been dreaming about.
Hopefully, when he took his leave, and she returned from her trip he could convince her that this wasn’t some one-off. This was something he was very serious about.
*
Having sex with Harry was simultaneously the most wonderful thing she had ever experienced and also the dumbest thing she had ever done.
Whoever settled down with him was a lucky lady. She already envied the blissful feeling that woman would experience probably on the daily. It made his heart skip a beat. She was an idiot, fucking her boss. Who did that?
When she woke up holding the little baby that she loved wrapped in the arms of a man who made her feel... good and cared for... All the thoughts of her first nanny family came rushing back. It terrified her and made her spiral. This was almost worse in some ways. At least last time she wasn’t painfully aware of how attractive her boss was.
Harry was right, she didn’t talk to her best friend very often. But Eliza was a busy woman, and this was an idiotic thing to do. It seemed silly to bother her when she didn’t even know what she was doing. But she texted her anyway. It was probably a phone call worthy conversation, but she wasn’t sure she could have it without giving up part way through.
I slept with Harry🤦‍♀️
OBSESSED WITH JUMPING RIGHT TO THE GOOD PART.
NICE 😍
Eliza. Seriously.
Was it good?
Oh who am I kidding, I’ve seen pics of him of course it was good. Wow I’m getting tingly for you.
E L I Z A
I’m just want to make sure I understand. He’s hot as fuck, babe. Good for you.
No. Not good. That was stupid. I just complicated my career.
Did you force him?
No of course not!
So what are you worried about? You OBVIOUSLY like him
...Tell me it’s not obvious please.
I mean... It’s obvious to me. But that’s only because he’s so goddamn hot
You are supposed to be helping me!
I AM helping you
Do you think he didn’t like it or something?
Oh, sweet Jesus. She hadn’t even thought of that. I think I have to end it.
What your job?
No my life 😭
Oh, for the love of God 🙄 You’re a grown woman and you slept with your boss. So has almost a third of the country has too.
Not helping.
Her phone rang with a FaceTime call. Eliza looked like she was at her house. Hopefully alone. She didn’t need her husband knowing all the details of her epic fuck up. “What do you want out of this?” She asked. Eliza was her extraverted, bold, wonderful friend. She was the one that dragged her to parties and was the dad-friend to their group. They were a team, and it was nice to have her. She got right to the point. Hence her congratulatory text. She perched the phone on the floor, resting it against the bottom of the entertainment center while Cece rolled on the floor. “Oh hello,” Eliza cooed. “Cece, you are so precious,” her face looked on with adoration a faux frown pulling her lips down.
She smiled proudly, unable to keep it in. Like Cece was hers which only made things worse. It was like her first nanny family but worse. Maybe it was because her second family didn’t have little babies, just children. She had been with Cece for extremely formative months, helping the little baby discover the world. The last time she was around a baby for these formative months, she became too attached. What if something happened down the line where she and Harry were something and then weren’t? It wasn’t like last time.
Her whole life was wrapped up in Cece and it had been hardly any time at all.
“Eliza,” she whispered, her throat catching on her name as tears overwhelmed her. “I love Cece. So much.”
“So tell Harry,” she said softly. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you on FaceTime, he adores you.”
She bit the inside of her cheek. “What if...”
“It’s not like last time,” Eliza finished already knowing where her spiral was going. She swallowed and looked away from the screen locking eyes with the sweet baby who babbled nonsense and giggled about her feet. “Babe?” She asked. “It’s not like last time. You know that, right? Harry appreciates your opinion. He wants you there. He is kind and thankful to have you. He wants you there. But he wants to be there too.”
She nodded. “I know.”
“He would let you love her completely.”
“If her mom was alive,” she whispered.
“Then you wouldn’t have met him, okay? Don’t... don’t do that. This is different. This is something good that you deserve. You love Cece. You love Harry. And quite frankly? You were going to love whatever baby was lucky enough to have you in their life so it may as well be Harry. I get why you got so worked up over Tucker,” she said. She flinched hearing his name. Her sweet little friend. “This is different. You’re lucky, of course. Harry adores you. You could have this. It wouldn’t be selfish. He’s nothing like Cody thank fuck.”
She smirked and watched Cece she rolled onto her tummy and then pushed herself towards her. “Cece!” She shrieked.
“What?!” Eliza asked, alarm falling over her face.
“She crawled!” She gasped. “Oh, my goodness, Eliza, I have to call Harry, I’m sorry!”
She didn’t even say goodbye before she hung up and called Harry. She never called him so she should have realized he probably would have answered immediately—worry etched on his perfect features. “Hi, love is every—”
“C’mere Cece! Show Daddy what you just did!” She cooed and held the phone out at Cece’s eye level turning so it was in a selfie position pointed at her. Cece scooted toward her (and Harry) again and her hand went to her throat.
“Oh, my sweet girl,” Harry praised. “Look at you, baby,” his voice was so soft and happy. “No solid food, but you’re going t’crawl, hmm? Jus’ determined t’make me sad with y’growing up,” his voice was a little forlorn. But he was happy and proud. She was glad she couldn’t see him, she would probably cry. She wiped the corner of her eye, as it was. Cece giggled rolling onto her back as she got close to the phone.  Harry chuckled. “Thank you, love. That was really nice t’see,” she turned the phone back to her. When she answered she didn’t see Harry’s face. He was in his office, the sunlight hitting his face and hair so perfectly. His dimple and smile made her melt. The adoration was plain on his face. “M’not having a very good day,” he admitted. “I was nervous t’see y’calling. But that was... that was really nice.”
She grinned shyly. “Of course. I wanted you to see it.”
“Thank you,” he repeated. “I think m’going t’be late,” his beautiful smile turned into an exhausted, frustrated frown. “Y’don’t have t’leave any food out or anything,” he said. “I’ll order something here later,” he assured her.
But she knew he would forget. Because she texted Niall to make sure he ate lunch or dinner or whatever you called the half-assed meal he sometimes ate between lunch and dinner time. Most days Niall said he didn’t. “If you’re sure,” she said quietly. “I don’t mind.”
“I know, kitten,” he had been using kitten now that he had made her come three times in one night. It made her heart flutter. Made her feel flushed and happy. “Thank you,” he hummed. “If...if you go t’bed before I get home, I hope y’have a nice night and sleep well.” Her heart felt achy knowing he was having a bad day. “Can y’show me Cece again? I want t’say goodnight t’her,” he smiled, unaffected by his bad day with the thought of his sweet girl. She scooped up the little babe into her arms who was crawling into her lap at that point without her even noticing in because she was so focused on Harry’s worry.
“Good night, my love,” he smiled. “I love you so, so much. Be good for Miss Honey,” he winked and waved at her.
“Say bye, bye Daddy,” she whispered to her and kissed the top of her head. “Say bye, bye,” she repeated. Cece just giggled making her heart fill to the brim with love.
“Bye Miss Honey,” he hummed and hung up.
“Well, Cece,” she turned the little one toward her and held her out in front of her before bringing her close. “I don’t know about you, but I think Daddy needs a pick-me-up,” she stood from the floor and headed for Cece’s room to get her belongings and change her before she attempted to make Harry’s day better.
*
Niall invited himself into Harry’s office while he was eating lunch. His sticky note with his name and a heart in her handwriting was pressed on the collar of his shirt like a badge of honor. “Hey,” he smiled. Harry’s eyes narrowed at the thoughtfulness of her sending lunch to Niall. He hated that they chatted. Hated that she laughed at his text messages.
Because Harry was jealous. Extremely, completely jealous and felt it was unfair she could talk so breezily with Niall and walked on eggshells around him. “She doesn’t like me,” Harry grumbled and continued looking through the documents on his desk and all the meetings and schedules.
“I doubt that’s true.”
“Oh?” Harry raised his eyebrows. “You and your new best friend talk ‘bout me?” Curiosity was in his voice but so was his unwavering envy.
“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” Niall grinned. “Are you jealous of her or me?” He asked. Harry kept his eyes on his work again. “Don’t worry Harry, I’ll always be your best friend.”
“If you caught on fire, I wouldn’t help,” he grumbled.
Niall put a hand over his heart. “So sweet,” he smiled. “Why do you think she doesn’t like you?”
Harry sighed and ran a hand over his face and glanced at his open door behind him. Niall shut it with a kick of his foot and then sat in the chair across from Harry. Then Harry began pacing. Running a hand through his hair as he explained all the sweet things she did and the power outage (he mentioned but glossed over the things he did to her body). Niall didn’t even flinch. Unsurprised and simply kept eating his meal. When Harry finished rambling, he smiled, delight in his eyes. Then his expression softened at his friend. Because the teasing, while hilarious, wasn’t so funny at the moment. Harry didn’t just like her. He didn’t just enjoy her personality or even her body.
“You love her.”
Harry dropped to his own chair and laid his head on his desk ignoring what Niall said. He couldn’t love her already. Right? But maybe Niall, with an outside view, knew more than he did. “Niall, she’s gorgeous, funny, sweet, and she’s probably the smartest person I know,” he swallowed. “How can she think I only like her for the stuff she does?” he asked.
“Maybe because that’s all anyone has loved her for in her mind?” Harry frowned knowing that he was probably right about that too. She said just as much. “Do you love her for only the stuff she does?”
“Of course not!” Harry grumbled. He frowned and ignored the fact that Niall said love again. “S’kind she cares so much. She doesn’t want t’be noticed; s’not t’say she’s helpful. She just is. But it’s the only thing I notice. Maybe people only loved her in the past because of the things she did but I love why she does it,” he didn’t even pause to think about the L-word. “She jus’ genuinely loves the people in her life. S’probably her love language or something,” he shrugged.
Harry and Niall talked about a lot of stuff together. They discussed their business, golfing techniques, music, new restaurants, girls, and sex. They gushed about their families and even video games.
Talking about how he felt about someone so lovely was new to Harry. He had been in love before—or so he thought. This was different. She was different. Niall could see it. It wasn’t anything in particular. It was just her.
Harry swallowed. “She probably thinks she’s convenient,” he murmured.
“I mean...” Niall shrugged. “She is, isn’t she?”
Harry scowled. “Whose side are y’on? You’re supposed t’be my friend.”
Niall shrugged with a smirk. “I am. It’s just... you’re thinking about how you feel. Not the way she feels.”
“She’s not convenient,” he repeated.
“Harry, she is your nanny, and she does... everything,”
Harry frowned. “Did she say something t’you?” Harry was going to unceremoniously gouge a paperclip in his eye if he made her feel less than.
“I had no idea you had sex with her, if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t wait to Lord that over her for another three months’ worth of lunches.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “I know I’m stuck with you. Why is she friends with you?”
“Oh, we just bond about how much we love you, Harry,” he winked.
Harry’s phone beeped with his secretary at the other end before he could respond to his friend. “Mr. Styles, are you in a meeting?” He asked.
Harry liked Stephen well enough. He was well aware of the procedure for his daughter and Miss Honey. He was organized, punctual, and good at his job. He liked to golf like Niall and enjoyed chatting with Harry about music. He fit in well and it seemed like a great addition to his office. Especially after it took several weeks of temp people to find the right fit after he fired the incompetent woman he had before.
“No, Stephen. Jus’ talking with Niall. S’matter?” Harry gathered the papers he was reading in his hands prepared to pause his conversation with Niall, regardless, so he could get home at a semi-reasonable hour. Which was already going to be hours later than he wanted.
“Please don’t fire me, Mr. Styles, but your nanny is really gorgeous. And she’s here, asking to see you,” Stephen had a smile in his voice.
“Oh man, poor kid is toast,” Niall chuckled as Harry wrinkled the papers in his hand.
“She said your door was closed and didn’t want to disturb you, so she let me know. She’s in the break room with your daughter... is she single? Holy shit, I swear I’m blushing.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Harry growled. “Can’t have a woman because she’s jealous of her, can’t have a man because he’s obsessed with her,” he rubbed a hand over his face and took a deep breath before he did something insane like smashed the button on the phone to answer Stephen. “Please refrain from drooling over her, Stephen,” Harry’s voice was clipped. Niall snickered. He put the lid on his Tupperware and left it on Harry’s desk for him to take home so that it could be refilled with her next yummy creation. He watched the agony on Harry’s face as he listened to Stephen talk about the girl he adored so much.
“I’m trying not to, but holy shit,” Harry knew all the inappropriate thoughts he was thinking because he thought them himself. “Watching her with the baby?” he sighed dreamily. “I think I’m ready to start a family.”
Harry yanked the phone cord out of his phone so hard, he was lucky plaster didn’t come with it. He shoved his chair back with so much force as he stood it tipped over and without caring he strode out of his office. All while Niall cackled behind him. “You.” He pointed at Stephen angrily as he approached the main desk on the floor. “Don’t even fucking look at her,” he strode past to the breakroom. Stephen stared at him wide-eyed and confused while Niall laughed behind him.
“So she is taken?” Stephen asked.
Harry turned to glare at him, but Niall leaned down on his desk. He mumbled something, quietly to Stephen, his eyes nearly laughing as hard as he did in the other room. Niall waved him off toward the breakroom again and Harry turned toward it but bumped into someone as he spun back around sharply.
“Oh!” She wasn’t prepared for Harry to be so solid (even if she knew he was) or for him to be right there as she approached him hearing Niall’s loud laughter before she saw either of them. Nor was she prepared for him to be mid-stride with the momentum of him turning and walking sent her already unbalanced body while holding Cece knocked her entirely off kilter. Which landed her right back onto the floor.
“Jesus Christ,” Harry grabbed his crying daughter immediately even though she was perfectly fine, Harry watched her clutch Cece tighter to her chest as she fell, even though it meant she landed so hard on her butt and back it had to have killed. “Niall!” He snapped.
Niall didn’t have to run far but he did all the same. “Hey, darling what an entrance,” he reached for her but Harry passed him Cece immediately before his hands met hers. Niall didn’t pay any mind to the change in which of Harry’s girls he held but he smirked thinking about how Miss Honey was one of his girls anyway. “Oh, I know, Miss Cecelia,” he cooed and kissed her temple. “That was a big fall, hmm?”
“Are y’okay?” Harry asked, crouching and grabbing her hands to help her sit up. “M’so sorry, love,” he cupped the side of her face. “Are y—”
“Is she okay?” She asked brushing Harry’s hand away gently. Her eyes were watery. Maybe it was the impact of falling or the embarrassment—Harry wasn’t sure. But if she was in pain, she didn’t seem to care. Her gaze was trained on Cece, alarm all over it.
“She’s fine, love,” Harry promised, ignoring Cece’s dramatics for the moment while he looked at her. “Are y’sure you’re okay?” He repeated.
“I’m fine, just embarrassed,” she put a hand on her face and winced as she stood and turned to Niall. “Are you okay, pretty girl?” She cooed. “Did I hurt you?” She frowned.
“No, not even a little,” Harry put a hand on her lower back. “Y’hit the ground hard, love. Are y’sure you’re okay?” He repeated.
“Harry, I swear I’m fine.”
Cece reached for her tearily, trying to wiggle her way out of Niall’s grip. “Aw,” he clucked. “You just want to make sure Miss Honey’s okay, little Miss?” He asked with a wink in her direction. As soon as her arms were around his daughter, Cece nuzzled into her embrace against the front of her shoulder; her little hands gripped either side of her shirt right around her chest. It was adorable and Harry was very jealous of the attention his daughter could give her like that.
“Are you alright?” Stephen approached.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Harry’s voice was quiet as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I’m fine,” she kissed the top of Cece’s head and rocked her gently. “Just pretty embarrassed. Any chance you can erase that from your security cams?”
Stephen chuckled at her. “No one gave me a straight answer, I’m sorry to be so blunt—I know it’s poor timing since you just had a little tumble there...but I have to know. Are you single? I would love to take you on a date. You are so beautiful and—”
“Alright, Stephen,” Niall gripped his shoulders and steered him back toward his desk. “If you want to keep your job you’re never going to speak to her again,” he winked at the blushing girl over his shoulder. Harry was trying not to scream, fingers pressing to both his temples and covering his closed eyes. He was taking deep breaths to quell the angry jealousy that was boiling in his blood. How did this get so goddamn messy in such a short amount of time?
“Are you alright?” She asked.
He exhaled deeply, totally frustrated. “Am I alright? I asked y’that at least three times,” he grumbled.
“I told you I’m fine!”
He opened his eyes after rubbing his hand over his face. “What are y’doing here?”
She frowned. “Do you want us to leave?”
“God,” he wanted to slam his head into a wall. This day couldn’t be worse. “Can we get out of the fucking hallway?” He asked.
She nodded, her cheeks turning red again. The moment he entered the breakroom with an angry expression on his face, the few of his employees in the room made a swift exit. He pulled a seat out for her and watched as she winced as she sat. The table had a plethora of bags on it. A food bag, the diaper bag, the car seat, and her purse. “M’going t’ask if you’re okay, again,” he said quietly. “Please don’t lie t’me if y’feel uncomfortable.”
She smiled and nosed at the top of Cece’s hair where she was still snuggling. “I feel a little awkward telling you my butt is definitely going to be bruised.”
He snorted and rolled his eyes. But at least she told the truth. “Are y’okay?”
“Other than a little embarrassed and a little bruised, I’ll be okay.”
“Good,” he sighed and ran a hand on the back of Cece’s head. “Hi baby girl,” he cooed, smiling for the first time in what felt like hours.
“Who’s that?” She asked. “Is that Daddy?” She giggled. “Do you want to give Daddy some of these snuggles? He’s having a bad day and needs one, I think,” she whispered and turned Cece toward him. She went willingly—excitedly, snuggling just as easily into his embrace. It felt like a warm glow settled over him. All the frustration he felt dissipated, and happiness started to bubble through him.
“That’s better,” he mumbled and kissed the top of her head. The only way it would be perfect was if he could hold her as well.
She smiled. “I brought you dinner,” she reached for one of the bags.
“Just Harry?” Niall asked from the doorway.
“Get. Out.” He growled.
Niall snickered closing the door behind him, which made her laugh as well. Harry rubbed his hand up and down her tiny little body while she set the food up—she even cut up Harry’s food into bite sized pieces so he could continue to snuggle his sweet daughter while he ate with one hand. She munched on whatever she purchased as well. “This is good,” he mumbled. “Where’s it from?”
“There’s a restaurant down the road. I stopped once after one of our visits,” she explained. “I would have made something myself, but I wanted to see you sooner rather than later.”
If he was questioning his love for her before, when Niall had asked earlier...
There was no question now.
He loved her with every breath. Every atom of his body.
He loved her.
So.
Very.
Much.
*
Day four and five post power outage came and went without much fanfare. Harry worked late. She brought Cece to the library and made sure she was entertained, learning, and growing. When Harry got home late, he said goodnight to an already sleeping Cece in her crib before he returned to the kitchen where the woman of his dreams was setting a plate of food out for him.
They didn’t speak much those two days, but he couldn’t help but notice she didn’t leave the kitchen while he ate. She packaged the food neatly for him and Niall the next day. She cleaned the dishes and counters. Hardly looking at Harry while he watched her. His eyes roamed over her body as she worked, desperate to see what was underneath her clothes again.
“Are you staring at me?”
“Mhmm,” he didn’t even bother hiding it. She had to know how much she meant to him.
“Harry,” she sighed, turning around and leaning against the counter. Her skin was flushed that pretty reddish pink tone that made him imagine the other three times he saw her skin change to the same color.
“Yes, love?” He smiled innocently. “Jus’ thinking ‘bout your bruise.”
Her skin turned a shade darker. “I bet.”
He took another bite of his food, smiling less than innocently. “Are y’okay?” He asked. That was serious.
“I actually don’t have a bruise. Or at least surface wise,” she explained. “The bone is still sore,” she admitted.
“I could rub it for you,” he offered. She turned back around without letting him see what shade of red she was turning. She braced her hands on the counter and tilted her head up to the ceiling.
He smirked.
But that was nothing compared to breakfast. Harry came directly to the kitchen in nothing but his towel making her put a hand on her throat. She put Cece in her highchair and turned to the fridge. Was she cooling herself off in there? Harry wished he could find out.
This had to qualify as sexual harassment in the workplace. It was her workplace after all.It wasn’t that Harry didn’t care if it was harassment, of course he wanted her to be comfortable. But she was comfortable. Wasn’t she? He didn’t imagine that chemistry between them. There was no way he imagined it!
Her tank top looked so pretty showing off so much of her soft cleavage that he just wanted to bury his face against her body. There was so much more than just her taking care of Cece or taking care of him. He wanted her to crumble. Only because he wanted her to crumble right into his arms. He would give her everything she wanted. Whenever she wanted it. They could make another baby right then. Right at the kitchen counter (or maybe after she put Cece down for a morning nap).
Harry stood and moved beside her next to the fridge. “Harry,” she whispered. “Please...”
“Please what, kitten?”
Her cheeks burned bright red and she looked away holding yogurt in her hands for Cece to try next.
“Do I make y’uncomfortable? Because I’ll stop,” he promised.
Ever so slightly, she shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “You’re just... making it really difficult not to flirt with you.”
Harry chuckled his mouth close to her earlobe. He inhaled along her hairline aching for her pretty smell. “Y’can flirt with me any time y’want, love,” he assured her. He pressed a hand on her arm, squeezing just above her elbow. It was the least erotic place but it made her heart skip a beat and the heat between her thighs spread throughout her body. Her eyes fluttered close, and Harry moved back to Cece leaving her cold and ridiculously turned on and he didn’t even do anything other than exist.
She was so. Goddamn. Screwed.
*
Harry’s stupid, insanely hot body was the only thing she could think about while the rain poured outside. More of the storms that lined their region wreaked havoc over the last couple of days. Which meant she was stuck inside with no escape from all that smelled like Harry, reminded her of Harry, and screamed of how much she wanted to kiss Harry until she died from breathlessness.
Sitting on the sofa where he made her come was a poor choice. She put her book over her face briefly before she sighed, unable to read any of the words that were in front of her because all of the letters on the page seemed to turn into the same five letters over and over. Just her brain screaming for the beautiful man that was kind, sweet, utterly adorable with his daughter.
And also, really good at making her come.
Cece had just fallen asleep in her swing for her afternoon nap. The soothing back and forth motion made it easy for her to drift along with the sound of the rain against the house. She had a book in her lap and was listening to the quiet instrumental playlist she had playing to keep Cece asleep. A cup of coffee was right beside her and other than her heart freaking out that she had slept with her boss and now it was really awkward, it was really peaceful.
For half an hour.
The power went out again. Fortunately, it was a little lighter out than it was during the storm where she let Harry pleasure her. Despite the swing turning off from lack of electricity, she noted Cece hadn’t stirred an inch. Frowning, she grabbed her phone to let Harry know.
There was no service. The storm must have knocked out the cell towers as well. Or maybe someone hit the pole outside Harry’s quiet neighborhood. Or maybe still, a repairman had knocked it out again trying to fix something to prevent further damage.
But when she peered out the drawn curtains, she immediately realized that the streetlight at the end of the driveway was still on. “Huh,” she hummed trying to piece it together.
Of course she wasn’t a mother. But having children around in her life and taking care of them for so many years, she felt she had developed some kind of mother’s intuition that someone else wouldn’t have if they didn’t have her job. She didn’t want to see it, but she swore she saw something move. Someone. Something like a shadow but worse, and it moved along the side of the house just out of sight.
No. No more crime dramas before bed. She thought to herself.
No one would come here to harm them—to harm Harry or Cece, right? They were just ordinary people.
Right?
More than ever, she was grateful for the soundly sleeping baby—she prayed the six-month regression she was going through wouldn’t make its appearance known. She hurried to the living room, scooping her out of her swing. She grabbed her favorite stuffy too. She took the stairs two at a time, careful to refrain from jostling Cece and waking her. She brought her to Harry’s bedroom. She refused to go in there after... She shook her head at that thought. That blissful, perfect thought. Harry was going to be home in no more than a couple hours, but it didn’t make this any easier.
“Okay Cece, you need to dream for a while,” she whispered. “I love you so, so much, okay?” She placed her in the middle of Harry’s closet floor, found a notebook on his nightstand. She tore a blank page from the back and scribbled a note on it hoping Harry would understand she was doing what she needed to do. She left the note in the closet as well. “Just sleep,” she whispered and kissed her soft little forehead.
Silently, she prayed for Chloe knowing she would be around. Quietly begging her to keep Cece safe while she dealt with the sound of a window smashing on the floor below.
She hurried downstairs with a pounding heart. Two men were climbing their way through the window. “What are you doing!?” She shrieked.
One held a gun up at her. Her hands went up instinctively. “Who are you?”
“I-I’m the nanny. What are you d-doing?” She repeated her heart in her throat interrupted her normal speech.
“Where’s the baby?” The other one snarled.
She shook her head. Terror pulling at her in every direction.
No, she’s just a baby. They can’t want her. “She’s not here,” she croaked praying her lie wasn’t obvious. She would throw herself in front of them, by all means, but she wasn’t dumb. They were a lot stronger than her. They couldn’t get past her. “She’s... she’s with her aunt,” she prayed that Harry wouldn’t hate her again. She would do anything to protect Cece. Harry already lost too much and if he lost his baby girl…
She shook her head at that thought, willing it out of existence. Harry’s worst fear was leaving Cece alone and she had just left her in a closet. Even if it were for the greater good of her safety it killed a piece of her to do that. Worry strung her mind wondering if there was another, better option. Leaving her alone without a bottle? What if she was there for hours? How long would she sit in her diaper? What if she cried so hard she dehydrated herself? God, how was anyone supposed to make this kind of decision?
“Jesus Christ, you said she was here!”
The man without the gun looked nervous. Clearly, he wasn’t the one in charge, but he had been right. She was there. Hiding in the dark. She prayed that she didn’t wake or make a peep. She just needed them to get out of the house.
They almost ignored her while they talked through a plan, the gun never straying from her vision. Slowly, she made way for her phone just out of reach. The man chose that moment to remind her that they hadn’t forgot about her. He walked closer to her making her throat close around a sob. “Let’s go,” he ordered darkly.
“Go?” She whimpered. She was going to be sick. “Go where?”
The one not in charge glanced at his own phone. “We have three minutes.”
“Walk,” he ordered and shoved her toward the door.
“Wait, please let’s just talk about this—”
“There’s no time to talk. You’ve seen too much. Either I shoot a bullet through your brain right now, or you get in the car.”
“You don’t need to do this!” She was glad the tears and sobs were quieting her voice. It was anything but fake. “I won’t tell anyone—”
“Save it,” he snapped and put the gun on the back of her head. She choked out another sob. “Can you take us to the baby?”
Her heart ached something fierce. Like someone had ripped it in half. “No, I don’t know where his sister lives,” at least that was true.
“Then you’re stuck with us,” he snarled. “You better be worth a pretty penny.” Kidnapping? Kidnapping her? She was good at her job. But not that good. Harry wouldn't take out a ransom for her. Would he? No... his daughter, of course. But not her. She was just the nanny. Someone he slept with out of convenience. Harry would be glad that Cece was okay. Even if she left her alone after she told him he never would. God, her heart hurt. “We only have another minute. Kill her or don’t. We have to go.”
A fresh wave of tears filled her eyes as they walked out of the house. “Okay, okay! I’ll go.” She sobbed. She hoped they didn’t notice they were tears of relief.
--
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oddinary4bts · 7 months ago
Text
Chasing Cars | ch 6.5 (jjk)
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☆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
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 10 months ago
Text
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.
💞
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hyunsvngs · 1 year ago
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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
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cheriecoke · 2 years ago
Text
piece of cake
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FEATURING. nanami kento x f!reader — wc: 9.8k
SUMMARY: nanami can't help but notice your strange behavior, and he begins to grow suspicious (aka you throw him a surprise birthday party)
CONTENTS: sorcerer!reader, nanami's bday, husband nanami, reader & nanami povs, gojo being the bestest friend, also everyone loves nanamin!! very very light angst, slight misunderstandings, and ofc nanami being the love of my life. sfw!!!
note: this ended up way longer than i intended! the ending is a bit rushed, but i really wanted to finish it before his birthday ended. i love this sweet man so much :(
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Nanami didn’t want to be that kind of man.
He knew that letting his thoughts wander into accusations were a one-way ticket to unfounded miscommunication. It was senseless to even go there; coming up with wild solutions that he couldn’t back up would only cause problems that didn’t need to happen in the first place.
With his whole heart, Nanami trusted you. He loved you, and he had never doubted that you felt the same. Honesty was important, and you were both mature enough to understand that communication was the only way to make a relationship work.
He reminded himself of that whenever his mind was clouded with uncertainty.
There was still a small twinge of doubt that wouldn’t leave him alone, and day after day, it became more and more difficult to convince himself that he wasn’t concerned. Every time he tried to speak with you about your strange behavior, you’d talked him into circles, bringing him right back to the beginning of the question like he’d never asked it at all.
Nanami tried to tell himself he was creating something out of nothing, but for weeks, you’d been coming home late, you were always on the phone, and he would have been an optimist or an idiot if he truly believed you weren’t hiding something.
When he really put his mind to it, he could stop himself from coming to unfathomable conclusions. You’d never given him reason to doubt you, even if your behavior had become suspicious as of late.
What he couldn’t diminish was the deeply buried fear that, maybe, you wanted someone more than him.
The entire mess had started just a month ago, when he’d stumbled into the lounge at the high school, a book tucked under his arm and a coffee in his hand. Lunch hour had just ended.
Nanami visited you at the school often, and at this time, you were almost always training Maki, or switching off a class with another sorcerer. Your schedule rarely deviated, and if you weren’t in the middle of teaching, it was because they’d needed you elsewhere.
So, of course, he was surprised to see you were doing neither of those things. Instead, you were in the lounge with Gojo, talking in hushed voices while you stood strangely close to one another.
Your back was turned towards the door when Nanami entered, and you gesticulated wildly with your hands. Between your speed and the low volume of your voice, Nanami couldn’t catch a word of what you were saying. It was obvious that you were excited, and Gojo leaned up against the back counter with an indulgent smile, placing his fingertips to his chin thoughtfully.
Nanami wasn’t sure whether or not to announce his presence, so he let the door slam shut behind him, breaking up your enigmatic conversation.
You whipped around in surprise, your eyes wide. In a similar manner, Gojo’s head darted up like he had no idea Nanami had entered at all. The scene would’ve been comical if it hadn’t been so unfamiliar.
“Nanamin!” Gojo stumbled around the first syllable of his name before recovering smoothly, smiling that cheeky grin of his. “When did you get in? I thought your assignment wasn’t until later this afternoon?”
As Nanami slid into the room, he glanced between you and Gojo with pinched eyebrows, attempting to ignore his unusually awkward behavior. Gojo slid across the countertop, slowly inching away from you until he hit the edge.
“Kento!” you said, in a voice that was much squeakier than your normal tone as you shattered the silence. “You’re here early.”
Nanami had long since given up on trying to understand Gojo Satoru’s behavior, but you were a different case entirely. Your smile was lopsided and uncomfortable, and you wiped your hands on your sides like you weren’t sure what to do with them.
He couldn’t tell if you were disappointed or glad to see him. His features pinched tighter, and he shook off the nasty voice of mistrust that threatened to cloud his logical mind. “I’ve been asked to take Itadori with me today. Apparently, someone’s been telling the principal that I’m a good influence on him.” He took off his glasses, meeting your eyes pointedly. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
You smiled sheepishly, drawing closer to him like a magnet. As you left Gojo’s side to stand beside Nanami, that sharp coil of irritation within him released. The lines in his forehead smoothed, and everything was just as it should be.
“I had nothing to do with this,” you said with a small shrug, fixing the tie that was already straight, as if looking for a reason to touch him. “What would make you think that?”
Nanami rolled his eyes at you, knowing you’d had everything to do with it, and gave you an exasperated smile.
You released his lapels shortly after to check the time and frowned when you realized how late it had gotten. “I have to go.” You pecked him on the cheek with a grin, and though Gojo was watching from behind the dark blindfold, Nanami couldn’t bring himself to care. “Maki’s meeting me soon, and I don’t want to make her wait. See you later, Kento.”
He squeezed your hand, the action almost imperceptible as you waved to the other man over your shoulder. “Bye, Gojo.”
Gojo returned the action, his lips pulled together playfully as he returned his focus to Nanami. Although he’d seen the two of you together on numerous occasions, his favorite pastime was teasing the younger man about any sign of affection.
Nanami sighed, suspecting that he’d have to tolerate Gojo for the next half-hour until Itadori was back. He took a long sip of coffee that scalded his throat and sat down on the couch.
The silence lasted until Gojo crept unfortunately closer, lurking like a cat until Nanami huffed, the sign of irritation that Gojo had been waiting for. The white-haired man drew out Nanami’s name like a song, and then plopped himself down on the chair across from him, blabbering on about things that Nanami really didn’t want to listen to.
When he realized five minutes had passed without Gojo even taking a breath, he gritted his teeth, and leaned back in the chair. “I didn’t realize you were such good friends with my wife.”
That wasn’t entirely the truth. Nanami had known that you’d gotten closer to Gojo since you’d started working for the school part-time, but you talked about him about as often as you talked about your other colleagues. About as much as Nanami talked about Gojo.
You’d never made it seem like he was the type of person you swapped secrets with in the lounge while everyone else was off on a break.
“Really?” Gojo drew out the word dramatically, his mouth curling into a pout. “I’d say we’re good friends, actually.” He tipped his head back, leaning against the chair with uncharacteristic seriousness. “We mostly talk about you, though. I know you better than I know her.”
“That’s a shame.” Nanami flipped the page, finishing the last bit of his coffee, and feigned irritation, even if he was warmed by the thought of you talking about him so much. “She’s much more interesting than me.”
Gojo laughed, and it seemed to be genuine. Nanami began to grow frightened that he might actually be roped into an actual, amicable conversation with the man.
“Aww,” he cooed sympathetically. “Don’t worry, Nanamin. I know you’re probably worried we’ll become better friends, but you were my friend first.”
Nanami glanced up, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Trust me, I’m really not worried about that.” He kicked his leg out, the beginnings of a headache forming in his temple. “I’m more concerned that she’ll invite you over for dinner. I’d like to refrain from any interactions with you outside of work.”  
Gojo made a face and then whined dramatically. “You’re so mean to me.” He wiped a hand over his eyes like he was shedding tears.  
Nanami sighed.
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A few days later, when he took Itadori out for another training session, he began asking Nanami too many questions about his personal life. That fact wasn’t as suspicious as it was frustrating. He couldn’t help that Itadori was curious, but he could’ve asked him these things on the ride over, or while they were at the school.
Invasive questions in the middle of a potential life or death situation were not exactly ones Nanami wanted to tolerate.
“So… what kind of places do you like to shop?”
The question was completely unrelated to his lesson and completely out of the blue. Nanami stopped, eyeing the teenager with undisguised skepticism. “Itadori. I’m not answering that kind of question when we’re in the middle of something serious.” He thought about his words, and quickly rephrased them. “Actually, I’m not answering that question at all.”
Itadori stared back, his face falling theatrically. Nanami could’ve guessed from that expression alone that he’d been spending far too much time with Gojo. “Fine.” He relented, drawing out the word as he scurried to catch up with Nanami, who was already paces ahead.
He let a few minutes pass before his next question.
“Where are your favorite places to eat?”
Nanami closed his eyes to regain his patience. “I’m not answering that either.”
A huff of disappointment. “Well, can I ask about your favorite—”
“No.”
Itadori’s glower turned into something more like a realistic frowny face. Nanami tried to refrain from snapping at him in order to regain his focus. “What can I ask?”
“Anything that you will gain valuable insight from.” Itadori opened his mouth, and Nanami quickly sensed his next words. “Insight that isn’t about me.”
He deflated once more. “Okay, fine.” For a few more moments, he surrendered, letting the conversation stall. Nanami should’ve known better than to expect peace and quiet for long. “So… what days will you be going on assignments? Do you have like… a set schedule, or do you usually get called in?”
Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose, hearing the creak of a floorboard upstairs. There were curses nearby, and if Itadori continued yammering on without paying attention, that would spell a lot of trouble for him and the kid. “Why are you asking me this?”
“I’m just curious.”
“I shouldn’t have to tell you now isn’t the time.”
Itadori opened his mouth, but then seemed to register the sound of cursed spirits, and he finally sobered his attention. His expression changed to one of seriousness, and, thankfully, he let the topic go.
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After a particularly stressful mission, Nanami went to the bakery that the two of you frequented, the one that had been the site of many of your dates throughout the years.
It was a quiet little café at the edge of the city, a perfect middle-ground between your home and the school. When he’d been working in the office, and you were still a sorcerer, you’d met him there on numerous occasions, usually bruised and battered, but never without a beautiful smile.
He stretched his back behind him as he headed through the door, his clothes dirtied from fighting and his hair in disarray. It was barely afternoon, and he was already exhausted, wanting just to go home and curl in bed to await your return.
It was a small daydream that would carry him through his last few hours of working, so long as no cursed spirits popped up in his vicinity of patrolling. There seemed to be more and more lately, and if he wasn’t being called off to go fight, then you were, leaving no time for either of you to be with each other.
As he crossed the threshold, another man was exiting, seemingly in a big hurry and carrying a coffee that he almost splashed all over Nanami’s chest.  
Reeling in his irritation, Nanami began a polite, “Excuse me,” before realizing who had nearly trampled over him. “Gojo. What are you doing here.”
“What a coincidence seeing you here,” Gojo greeted with a wide grin, like he wasn’t the one infiltrating one of Nanami’s sacred, headache-free spaces.
Nanami cringed, looking at the coffee in Gojo’s hand and the white pastry bag, immediately recognizing the contents. It was your favorite drink, the dessert you got once a week; you’d been ordering the same thing for the past two months, always getting hooked on new things before you eventually tired of them. He knew the order by heart.
“Sorry, I really wish I could stay and chat, but I’ve got important goods to deliver.” He held up the bag and the cup, a receipt folded up between his fingers. Bitterly, Nanami noticed he hadn’t bought anything for himself. For someone with such a sweet tooth, it seemed hard to believe that he’d refrained from indulging.
Which, Nanami concluded with annoyance, meant that he’d come specifically for you. He checked his watch, pushing away the negative emotions. Even though you could’ve called him if you wanted something, like you always did, you’d asked Gojo instead. “She’s not on a break?”
“Some students wanted her help with some things. I told her I didn’t mind getting her something if she wanted to take a break later this afternoon.” Gojo flattened his blindfold over his eyes, the material bunching up around his nose. “Everyone’s out today, anyway.”
“I see,” Nanami said, hating the unnecessary sting in his chest. You knew he’d been working, and even though he told you where he was going, you probably hadn’t seen the message. If you were busy, then he couldn’t expect you to be checking your phone. “Well, tell her I said hello, then.”
“Will do,” Gojo saluted cartoonishly and flitted out the door, smiling with a kind of glee that Nanami, stupidly, wanted to wipe off his face.
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Those separate incidents with Gojo had annoyed him, of course, but he knew they weren’t anything to get worked up about. In fact, he’d almost forgotten about the interactions entirely, until another week passed and Nanami slowly started to wonder if you spent more time with the white-haired man than the one you were in a relationship with.
You’d woken up before him that morning, and Nanami opened his eyes to a colder bed and the sound of hushed music softly playing from behind the bathroom door.
It was a cooler day for June. You’d opened the window, and there were dark clouds gathering in the sky, a sign that it was going to storm any time now. He stretched his stiff back, padding to the hallway, where he could see the light coming from the bathroom, the door cracked open. The smell of your perfume wafted through, and Nanami had half a sense to drag you back to the bed and keep you there until the weekend was over.
He pushed the door open further, leaning against the threshold to watch you swipe pink gloss over your puckered lips. Your makeup was freshly powdered, your hair done up in its usual manner.
Nanami smiled, leaning against the door frame as he watched you finish getting ready. “Where are you going this morning, pretty girl?”
You blinked at him through the mirror, putting the tube of lip gloss back in the bag before turning to him with a smile. You looked so sweet, and he yearned for you, almost in disbelief that you’d been together for so long. “I’m taking the kids shopping in the city with Gojo today.” You wrapped your arms around his stomach, tilting your head back to look up at him. “I’ll be home before dinner. Want me to cook tonight?”
Nanami brushed your cheek, feeling that annoying wave of irritation return to claw at him. He didn’t care that you were spending time with Gojo—he shouldn’t care. Your students would be there too, and you’d been happier ever since you started working at the school. The first and second years cared about you so much already, and Gojo was a much less annoying friend to you than he was to Nanami.
He liked seeing you so happy, despite the toll that the job often took on you. “Don’t worry about it. We need to pick up groceries, anyway. I’ll do that while you’re out.”
Your smile widened, and you leaned up, pressing a kiss to his lips. Although you’d meant for it to be quick, Nanami had wrapped an arm around your lower back, pressing you closer, deepening the kiss. He ruined your lipstick, smearing it all over his mouth, but he didn’t care.
“You look beautiful,” he whispered against your mouth, holding you close to him.
“I’m still in my pajamas.” You laughed, your cheeks growing warm as you drew away from him, teasingly dodging his final kiss. “Are you sure you won’t miss me too much when I’m gone?”
His eyes crinkled at the corners. “I’ll probably miss you too much.” As you fixed your lipstick, Nanami went back to the bedroom, rifling through his coat pocket for his wallet. He tossed the gold card on the bathroom counter, where your purse was laying.
You eyed him over your shoulder. “No.”
He stared back, just as seriously. “Yes. Buy yourself something nice, sweetheart.” He thought of the young teenager he’d been mentoring, who’d been putting in his best effort, and who he’d, unfortunately, come to care about quite a lot. “Itadori too. Just don’t tell him it’s from me.”
You blinked, before your expression changed into something so bright, Nanami would’ve done everything in his power to keep it there. “I knew you liked him.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
With an affection so full that it threatened to burst out of your chest, you jumped towards him, wrapping yourself up in his arms. He kissed your temple and breathed, remembering just how much he didn’t want to lose you.
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You were true to your word, always. You came back when you promised, you told him where you were going, but Nanami noticed that you’d been even more secretive since you went shopping with Gojo and your students. When he asked your plans, you were even more vague. When you didn’t return with any shopping bags, he found it odd that you smelled of a cologne he didn’t wear.
He reminded himself of how much he trusted you—he really, really didn’t think you would lie to him, but he couldn’t deny that your behavior was confusing him.
Nanami finished off his tea, eyes across the room as he watched you type wildly on your phone, your brows crinkled. You sent a message then waited for a response, impatiently pacing across the kitchen.
He called your name, but you didn’t respond, too enraptured in whatever it was that you were doing. You seemed to be attached to your cell phone these days, always having a call to respond to, and always jumping when he was a little too close to seeing your messages.
Yesterday, Gojo’s name had popped up on your screen with a message, and you’d crawled across Nanami’s lap to get the phone before he could even think to hand it to you. Nanami had done nothing but stare back at you, and you’d smiled at him, embarrassed, still hiding the screen from him as you read the message.
He really, really didn’t want to jump to conclusions. But these days, you were spending all your free time with Gojo, and you grew defensive every time he tried to bring it up.  
“Are you done with the tea?” Nanami asked again, piling up the dirty dishes from where he sat, noticing your cup was still half-full, but lukewarm.
You chewed your thumbnail anxiously, bouncing your leg as you waited for the person on the other end to reply. The phone shook in your hands, and you read through it again, obviously disappointed by the short response. He could’ve guessed who you were talking to, even if he didn’t want to.
Nanami frowned and called your name one more time. Finally, you looked up.
“What?” you asked, and then came to understand his question. The tea sat, unenjoyed, and shame marred your features. “Oh. I’m sorry. No, I’m not finished.” You frowned, tucking the phone back into your pocket before rushing over to your seat. “I didn’t mean to…” you trailed off, and Nanami stared, waiting for you to finish your explanation, even though you let it die there. “It’s been busy at work.”
Nanami hated how easily he could tell you were lying. He sighed, rubbing his temples as your phone rang again. This time, though, you kept it in your pocket.
It had been like that for the past couple of days. He closed his eyes, trying to come up with any possible explanation other than the most distressing one.
“Kento?” you asked in a small voice, noting his obvious discontent. “Is everything alright?”
He looked up at you, your eyes so wide and full of concern, and even if he wanted to be mad at you, he couldn’t. His chin fell, arms resting limply at his sides as you looked back at him, waiting for a response. “Is everything alright with you?”
“I’m okay,” you said, shifting where you stood. “Just busy. Like I said.”
The two of you stared at each other, waiting for the other to say what they really wanted to. Never once in your life had you had a problem with communicating, but it felt like now, you were hitting a wall.
All he could do was try his best. If you didn’t want to answer him, he couldn’t make you.
“Okay,” he said, taking your hand in his own. He brought it to his lips and kissed your palm, then the inside of your wrist, before massaging the center of it. “I don’t want you to feel like you need to keep secrets from me. If anything…” he steadied himself for his next words. “If anything changes between us, you can tell me. I’ll understand.”
Your eyebrows creased, before understanding seemed to dawn upon you. “Kento,” you said, dropping his hand to come around the table to climb into his lap, placing your hands on both of his cheeks. “Kento, no.”
“You’ve just been a bit—”
“I’m sorry,” you said, and he couldn’t help but draw back into you, smile when you kissed him all over his face, pressing the affirmations into his skin. “I’m not trying to be distant, really. Things are just busy right now, I promise.” You curled your fingers into his hair, scratching at his scalp, and Nanami brought his arms around your hips, settling you on his thighs.
“Okay. I just wanted to make sure.” His eyes softened at your frown, and he brushed his thumb under your shirt, grounding himself against your skin. “I love you.”
That put a smile back on your face, and you kissed him, whispering the same words against his lips.
Now, though he wasn’t so sure he believed what you were saying, as much as he wanted to. Maybe you were just busy at work, but you were certainly hiding something from him.
He knew that everyone had their secrets, but maybe it would’ve stung less if you’d just admitted you were hiding something from him.
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The following week was the same routine, and as the workdays ended, Nanami saw you less and less each evening. You spent the majority of your time in the city center, and though you were often with your students, you were also with Gojo, and something about that fact was difficult to swallow.
Nanami felt a little sour that you never asked him to go too. He began to wonder if you were purposefully avoiding him, or if the students disliked him as much as he’d thought they did.
It was stupid, he knew it was stupid, and he didn’t want to be overbearing, to seem like he was the kind of man who wanted to control where you were going and spending your time with. He just wished you spared a little bit more of it for him, was all.  
He woke with that thought in his mind as he rolled over on the cold bed, reaching out to wrap his arms around you. When he realized the spot beside him was empty, he blinked himself awake wearily, adjusting his eyes to the dark.
The hall light was on, a yellow glow peeking through the cracks under the door, and he frowned as he heard the sound of your voice, low and hushed.
Nanami weighed his decision. It was almost two o’clock in the morning, and though you often went to bed much later than him, a phone call at this time was pushing it. He climbed out of the bed, padding quietly over the door to see if he could catch a part of the conversation.
It felt like a breach of trust, and he didn’t want to seem like he was spying on you.
He pressed his ear to the door, waiting for your voice, though it was silent. Half a minute passed. His hands curled around the knob, and he shouldn’t be trying to listen in, he should just go out there and ask you if anything was wrong, and then—
“Gojo, I don’t know what to tell him.”
Nanami stopped, swallowing down his breath to still all noises from his body. He squeezed his fist tighter until his knuckles had gone pale, hearing you murmur under your breath. There were a lot of words he couldn’t catch, and he wrinkled his forehead, trying to catch a hint of context in what you were saying.
“I’m not very good at lying to him, and if he finds out—”
Your voice dropped quiet again.
Nanami felt something fall in his chest as he released the doorknob. He was too tired to think about it rationally, and if he listened anymore, he wasn’t sure what he’d do.
He stepped away from the door, his lips etched permanently into a frown.
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After Kento had fallen asleep, you’d grabbed your phone off the nightstand, going through the to-do list that you’d created for his birthday.
You hadn’t meant for it to get so out-of-hand. He didn’t usually like big celebrations, and he’d never made a big deal of his birthday in the past. Though in your eyes, that was exactly why you needed to do something different for him this year.
Things had been going so well, and from what you could tell, everyone in your close circle cared about him more than he realized. It was the only way you could think to show that to him.
You’d just wanted to do something special for him, and it had turned into long shopping trips with Satoru Gojo, and secretive meetings with your students to make sure everything went exactly as you’d planned it.
And things were going according to plan… Only, you were starting to feel like your attempts at secrecy were sabotaging your relationship, and you feared that Kento thought the worst of your late nights out and your newly formed friendship with Gojo.
It was obvious that you were lying, and every time he brought it up, he seemed to become even more doubtful of your actions.
You flipped the hallway light on, dialing Gojo’s number, feeling antsy in your own skin. After two rings, he answered, his voice groggy and obviously full of sleep.
“Hello?”
“Gojo,” you said in a panic, rubbing your hand over your face with a kind of distress that he couldn’t even see. “I don’t know what to tell him.”
A beat of silence as he gathered his thoughts. “What?”
You almost felt bad for waking him up, but part of this was his fault. He’d been insistent on being a part of the plan, and now, he needed to listen to your apprehensions about the entire situation. He hadn’t exactly been sneaky either.  
“Kento.” you said, pacing back and forth in the hallway, your voice rising to a high-pitched shriek, even as you tried to muffle your words. “He’s been asking me so many questions, and I’m so bad at coming up with answers. I’m seeming like a horrible person.”
Gojo hummed on the other line, and you hated how nonchalant he seemed about all of this. This was your relationship, and he was just sitting happily in his home, with the receipt for a cake that had cost way too much, and gifts for a man that had started to doubt you even cared about him at all. “Well…”
“Gojo,” you said his name again, sternly.
“Sorry.” He sighed. “Nanami’s a tough person to keep a secret from. Just keep telling him what you’ve been telling him: we’ve been assigned to more cases together, work is too busy, et cetera, et cetera. That’s fine.”
“But he knows that’s not true.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, frustration prickling at you. Either Kento was much too perceptive for his own good, or you were just awful at planning surprises. “I’m being too suspicious. I’m not very good at lying to him, and if he finds out, then all the secrecy would have been for nothing.”
Gojo was silent on the other end of the other line. It seemed he was absolutely horrible at consoling you, unlike the man in the other room who was sleeping soundly, unbeknownst to the fact that you were doing this all for him. “Look, it’s only for a couple more days, right? You can keep the secret until then, can’t you?”
You swallowed, steeling yourself for one last week of misery. You weren’t sure you could continue to stand the look of disappointment on Kento’s face every time you did something out of character. “I guess so. Thanks.” You yawned, rubbing your eyes. “Sorry, I woke you up, didn’t I?”
“Don’t worry about it. Goodnight.” He hung up, and you stared at the phone once more, trudging back into the other room.
You couldn’t help the guilt that had settled deep in your gut. Even if you were lying to Kento for something special, you knew how it looked on your end. You weren’t good at dispelling his accusations; every time you opened your mouth, you just incriminated yourself more.
You couldn’t wait until his birthday. Things would go back to normal, then, and he could finally see that everyone cared about him more deeply than he realized.
Rubbing your eyes with exhaustion, you crawled back into the space where you always slept. Although, this time, you realized Kento was not asleep like you’d left him but was blinking back at you with concern in his dark eyes.
You jumped, startled for a moment, before settling back down. “Sorry. Did I wake you up?”
“It’s okay.” He grasped your hand tightly, and you let him, let him drag you close in his arms as he curled around you. “Is something wrong?”
You tensed, and immediately realized that was a mistake. Fuck. You were so horrible at this. You should’ve just let Gojo and Itadori plan the entire thing, and maybe it would’ve been a disaster, but it also would’ve saved you a lot of unnecessary anxiety. “Everything’s fine.”
That didn’t exactly answer his question. Nanami turned on his side, the two of you staring face to face on the pillows. There was a wrinkle between his eyebrows, his eyes darting to each one of yours like he was trying to decipher a message. Then, he sighed. “Was… someone calling?”
“Just Gojo.”
“Gojo?” Nanami repeated, and though he seemed annoyed at the mention of him, at least he knew you were being honest about that. “Why the hell is Gojo calling you in the middle of the night?”
You blinked, realizing you actually had no good lie to cover that one. “Umm…” you played with Nanami’s hand, tracing the tendons and knuckles as he stared back at you patiently. “He wanted to know if I could cover for him in the morning. He’s… not feeling so well.”
You’d have to text him immediately so that he didn’t come to the school until later. Not that he would mind skipping out on a few hours of work, but even that didn’t seem to convince Kento. He opened his mouth, and shut it, as if trying to carefully put his words together. “That’s all?”
He said it in a way that made you think he was giving you an opening, like you had the option to tell him the truth if you wanted. Of course, you couldn’t reveal what you were hiding, but he didn’t know that.
You sighed, and smiled, kissing him as you curled your hands into his hair. “That’s all, Ken. I really am sorry I woke you up.”
Nanami stared back at you for a moment before forcing a smile, returning your kiss with all his fondness. He brushed your hair away from your face and kissed your cheeks before closing his eyes once more.
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When the day of Nanami’s birthday arrived, you promised yourself that you wouldn’t panic if everything wasn’t perfect. He’d appreciate the sentiment, no matter what. Things didn’t have to go by the book for them to be meaningful.
Regardless, you went through your mental to-do sheet, made the final reservation for your dinner, and prayed that everything went as you intended.
Though you were usually not a morning person, you’d gotten up earlier than Kento to fix his coffee the way he always preferred, taking a quiet moment to still your excited nerves. When his usual alarm went off, at the same time every morning, you carried the mug back with you to the bedroom and smiled softly at his sleepy form.
You set the coffee down before he could fully gain consciousness, and sprang on top of him, peppering kisses all over his face until his surprise slowly melted, and he was hugging you tightly.
“Happy birthday.”
Kento smiled up at you groggily, his eyes still drooping with sleep as he curled a hand around your jaw. He pressed a soft kiss to your mouth, hugging you tight as he whispered, “thank you,” the touch of the words barely there at all.
You relaxed in his presence, sitting back as you handed him the coffee, to which his expression grew even more gentle. He brushed your hair out of your face and kissed you again on the forehead, making you melt, just as he always did.
“What do you want to do today?” you asked as you laid on his chest, staring up at him with every ounce of love you had to offer. “I have dinner reservations, but you’ve got all day until then.”
Nanami laughed, curling a strand of your hair around his finger. “It doesn’t matter. We can just spend it like any normal day.”
You frowned. “That’s not anything special. It’s your birthday.”
“It’s just a birthday.” He squeezed your arm before maneuvering you gently off of him so that he could sit up on the bed. “Besides, every moment I spend with you is special. I’m happy to just sit around and do nothing until dinner.” Kento seemed to notice your displeased expression, even though your heart had swelled at his comment. “Unless there was something you wanted to do instead…”  
He climbed out of the bed, taking one sip of the steaming coffee before setting it back down.
“It’s not my birthday.” You watched him gather his clothes up off the floor with a sigh, the muscles in his back clenching as he bent over. “I want to do what you want to do.”
“And I told you I didn’t care.” He smiled playfully at you, tugging his shirt on over his head. Then, he reached over and squeezed your hand, coming back to where you sat, your legs swung over the side of the mattress.
“Kento.” You pulled him back down with a pointed expression, your faces close, lips almost touching. “I’m serious.”
He stared back at you for a moment, before relenting. “Alright.” Kento bent down, kissing you once more before going into the bathroom. “Let me shower, and we’ll go get some breakfast. How does that sound?”
“Is that what you want to do?” you asked, eyebrows raised.
Although you could tell he was amused by your insistence, he softened, his eyes melting into hearts as he turned. “That’s what I want to do. Happy?”
“Very.” You shoved him away, laughing. “Go take a shower. You’re not getting any younger.”
He rolled his eyes and retreated into the bathroom, the door shutting softly behind him.
When the water started running and Kento was definitely in the shower, you hurriedly dialed Gojo’s number, begging him to pick up. After the third dial, when you were certain he wouldn’t answer, a short tone cut through the line.
“What’s wrong?” he answered, clearly amused. There was shuffling on the other end, and some sort of yelp. Your brows pinched together.
As you listened closely to make sure the shower water wouldn’t turn off unexpectedly, you frowned. Your leg shook with anticipation. “What do you mean? I’m fine.”
Gojo released a breath, though his voice grew mumbled on the other end. “Well, you normally only call me if you’re panicking about the birthday situation, so—”
There was a scream. You dragged your hand down your face, as he said something sharply to someone on the other side of the call.
“Gojo?”
“Yeah?” Another sound, this one of extreme pain. “Sorry, I’m in the middle of something.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re exorcising a curse right now.”
He paused, and then the sound stopped, everything going silent on his side. “Well… I’m not anymore.”
You wanted to say that you were shocked he’d bothered to pick up the phone at all, but… You weren’t, really. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Unfortunately, cursed spirits don’t know it’s Nanamin’s birthday, so they just keep coming.” He sighed. “What a bummer. If they were nicer, I’d invite them to the birthday party.”
You snorted. “Right. I’m certain Kento would love that.”
Gojo laughed. “So, what were you calling about? If it’s to panic over your much too long list of things for me to do, don’t worry. Everything’s in order.”
“Really? Did you wrap the presents?”
He hummed. “Megumi did.”
You closed your eyes, holding back a sigh. That was probably for the best, anyway. You’d never seen Gojo wrap a gift, but you weren’t sure how it’d look if he did. “Okay… What about the decorations?”
“Itadori is bringing those over once you two leave.”
A part of you wanted to get frustrated with him for doing absolutely nothing, but it wasn’t his fault he had to work, even if he’d promised to help you out. At least he was delegating the tasks. One way or another, it would get done. “Are you going to help him at all?”
“Have a little bit more faith in me than that. You’re hurting my feelings.”
“No I’m not. Did you get him a birthday card?”
“I think Maki offered to do that. And before you ask your next question, yes everyone’s going to be there on time. Kugisaki followed up with everyone.”
“Oh my god… Did you do anything, Satoru?”
“I picked up the cake.” A beat of silence. “Well, I haven’t yet. I’m going right now. I got a little side-tracked.”
He’d given you no reason to doubt him, really. But you were still afraid that something would go wrong, and you’d be left without a cake, in the middle of a very important birthday. “Fine, but just know that I’m texting Megumi in an hour to come check on you. I can only keep Kento out of the house for so long, so you need to make sure it’s perfect.”
“You got it, boss. I’ll let you know if I need anything else.”
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Once you’d sent Gojo the final list of things that needed to be done, you put your phone away, promising yourself that it would not be a point of stress while you were at dinner with Nanami. You’d reserved a table at his favorite restaurant and dressed up nicer than you had in a while.
After breakfast, the two of you meandered around the city for the rest of the day until your reservation, as you tried to think of anything that could keep him away from home. Worried that he would catch on, you continued to diffuse his concerns, kissing him with a smile as you pulled him along to the next place you could think of.
And though he’d protested, saying that you didn’t have to dedicate your entire day to him, you couldn’t think of another way that you’d want to be spending it.
When the evening started to fall, you made your way to the restaurant, and the phone buzzed in your bag. You gritted your teeth and ignored it.
“Are you sure we don’t need to go home?” Kento asked you, swinging your hand in his between the two of you. Neither of you had ever been big on public displays of affection, but holding hands through the streets was one of the nicest feelings you’d come to experience. “We have time.”
“No,” you said a little too quickly, and he eyed you curiously, almost stopping in his tracks. “We better get there early, just in case. Don’t you think?”
Kento raised an eyebrow, but then nodded, squeezing your hand. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to be early.” He smiled, humming to himself happily. “You know, you didn’t have to do all of this for me today.”
“I wanted to. I wouldn’t do this for just anyone.” You laughed, but for some reason, there was uncertainty behind his eyes. You felt the phone buzzing more and more in your pocket.
The restaurant was packed, and even though you were early to your reservation, they got you seated immediately.
“You look beautiful, sweetheart. Did I already tell you that?” Nanami said once you were seated.
You flushed, your cheeks growing warm as he stared at you across the table with gentle, brown eyes. “Thanks, Kento,” you said in a quiet voice, knowing that you’d looked much better earlier, when your hair had been perfect, and your makeup hadn’t smudged. Your dress now had some wrinkles, and you were sweating with nerves and the heat outside.
He glanced down at the menu, perusing it, even though he got the same thing every time. You ordered a bottle of wine to split between the two of you.
The server brought the alcohol back and poured it, then took your order back to the kitchen. When Nanami ordered, you dropped your chin in your hands, watching him, distracted by the very sight of him.
He nodded at the younger girl politely, and she grew pink, scurrying off to the next room. Kento looked back at you as you laughed and started up another conversation. You talked about school and work and everything in between, the mood only shattering when you felt the incessant buzz of the phone in your pocket.
You were in the middle of a story, but your sentences started to blend together into something that didn’t make sense. You stumbled over what you were saying, feeling the weight of the phone in your pocket as you tried to refocus on your words, but remained distracted.
The phone buzzed again in your pocket. You gritted your teeth. Fucking Gojo Satoru and his idiotic brain—you’d told him not to contact you.
“Is everything alright?” Kento blinked as you took your phone out and set it in your purse.  
“I’m sure it doesn’t matter.”
He hesitated, thoughtful as he swallowed a sip of wine. “Well, I don’t want you to get in any trouble if it’s work.”
“I took off today. If they can’t handle two sorcerers being gone, then they’ve got bigger problems.”
Nanami sighed, drumming his fingers against the table. “I guess that’s true. Speaking of work, I—"  
The phone buzzed louder, then there was a pause. It buzzed again. You cringed.
“I’ve been meaning to tell you, but—”
The phone started ringing.
You were close to throwing the bag altogether, and probably would’ve, if it hadn’t been one of the most expensive accessories you owned. Nanami looked down at the bag, then back at you, eyebrows raised.
“Honey…” he said, eyes gesturing to the phone. “Just answer it.”
You felt a wave of guilt wash over you, and you dug your phone out of the bag, Megumi Fushiguro’s name was bold as it lit up on the screen. You held it tightly in your hand and began to stand, feeling sick and horrible and wondering if all the secrecy had just ruined his birthday. “I’m so sorry Kento—"
He shrugged; his voice was solid with gentle patience. “It’s alright. Take your time.”
You nodded, and waited until you were out of earshot to answer the phone, feeling horrible about leaving him all by himself. Once you were in the bathroom, locked in one of the stalls, you answered. “Hello?”
“Itadori dropped the cake.”
You took a breath before answering Megumi’s calm remark, wondering how close you actually were to snapping. “What.”
In the background, the pink-haired boy wailed over and over, loud cries that were, clearly, full of remorse. “It was an accident!” He shouted over Kugisaki’s berating, and you weren’t sure whether to laugh or cry, because that was the last thing you’d expected to happen.
“Itadori dropped the cake,” Megumi repeated, flatly, like you hadn’t gotten it the first time. “It’s all over the floor. Kugisaki’s trying to get him to clean it up, but it’s just making him even more miserable.”
You covered a hand over your mouth, wondering why your eyes were welling up with frustrated tears. Things were not going the way you’d planned. “Is Gojo there yet?”
“Yeah.” Megumi hesitated, and there was a pause, like he was unsure what to do now that he finally had you on the phone. “Want me to put him on?”
You nodded, before realizing that he couldn’t see you, and muttered, “yes.” Within a moment, the older man, currently in charge of three teenagers, was on the line.
“This may or may not be Gojo,” he said, and you were glad that he at least had enough intelligence to sound nervous.
“Satoru.” You tried hard not to panic. “Please, please can you try and find another cake? I know it’s late, but I’m not sure how much longer I can stall here. I’m trying so hard not to be suspicious, but I’m horrible at it.”
“I can try, but—"
“Kento already thinks I’m acting weird, and he keeps asking me questions that I’m doing a very bad job of answering. I feel awful because it’s his birthday, and I’m afraid he thinks I’m just getting ready to split up with him or something.”
“Ouch.” Gojo said dramatically, hissing like he’d been stung. “That’d be a bit of an asshole move, wouldn’t it?”
“Well, I’m obviously not going to do that!” You scrubbed your hands over your face. “He seemed upset today, and I just don’t want all of this to go to waste. Please, Satoru. It doesn’t matter what the cake looks like, but just make sure that you get something, so that—"
“Hey,” he said, dropping the theatrics when you choked back a sob. His tone grew serious. “Take a deep breath. I think you’re forgetting who we’re dealing with here.”
“What do you mean?” You blinked, dabbing your eyes, hoping that your mascara wouldn’t smear.
“Nanami is going to appreciate the gestures, even if they aren’t perfect.”
You inhaled and exhaled, realizing that Satoru was right. Out there was a man that you loved very much, who loved you in return, and this was not as serious as you were making it out to be. “You’re right.”
“Obviously. Enjoy your dinner. I can take care of it.”
“Are you sure? It sounds like a warzone in the background.”
“Everything’s fine,” Gojo swore, even if you didn’t entirely believe him. “I told Megumi not to call you, but he loves getting me in trouble. Please, don’t worry about it.”
You opened your mouth, but Gojo had already hung up.
As you left the stall, you sighed, seeing yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were red with unshed tears, but you’d already made Kento wait long enough.
Twitching nervously, you headed back to the table. Nanami was sitting patiently, scrolling through something mindlessly on his phone.
“Everything okay?” he asked as you sat back down, noticing the signs of tears and misery. He reached for you across the table, but then thought better of it, and just frowned.
“Everything’s fine. I’m just really sorry, Kento.” You looked down at your hands. “I didn’t mean to be so rude. It’s your birthday. I want you to enjoy it.”
A beat of silence passed. He smiled. “I am enjoying it.” He did reach for your hand, then, and pulled it tight against his own. “This has been the best birthday, sweetheart. Why are you upset?”
You swallowed. “I’m not upset.” You shook your head, trying to clear the unhappiness from your expression. “Anyways, what were you saying? I interrupted.”
Nanami’s face fell. You’d changed the subject so quickly; he hadn’t had the chance to ask you any more questions. “Right. Well, nothing important. I just have to be in Kyoto next week.”
You frowned. “All week?”
He nodded. “I wanted to let you know in case you wanted to make plans. You’ve been...” he paused, thinking over his words. “Seeing Gojo a lot lately, so I thought you might want to—”
You stared at him, and realized what he was getting at. Fuck, you felt so horrible. “Oh,” you said, scratching your wrist under the table. “Yeah. Maybe. I’m sure he’ll be busy too.”
That wasn’t the answer Nanami was looking for. He stopped, and then regrouped, nodding. “Well, either way, I wanted you to know. They didn’t give me advanced notice.”
You smiled tightly. “I’m going to miss you.”
“It’s only for a few days,” he said, releasing your hand to place it back onto his lap. “But I’m going to miss you too.” There was something distant in his voice when he said it.
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On the way home from the restaurant, Gojo texted you obnoxiously, sending you pictures of the house, the cleanliness of it, the set-up of the gifts, the new cake, and you smiled to yourself, somewhat relieved that things weren’t a complete disaster.
You could feel Kento’s eyes on you as he drove home, his hand resting on your thigh as you turned slightly away from him, keeping his eyes off the screen.
Stop sending me things before he sees my phone.
Gojo’s response was much too quick.
Stop looking at your phone.
You sighed, clicking the screen off and finally relaxing against the window. The secrecy was almost over; you hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to keep this all hidden without causing so much dramatic suspicion.
Nanami pulled into park in front of your home, squeezing your leg gently before releasing it. You expected him to make a move to get out of the car, but instead he sat, contemplative, the key still in the ignition.
You swallowed, looking at him. “Is everything okay?”
He took a breath, turning back to you with some sort of determination in his eyes. “Have I done something to upset you?” he asked, his voice so incredibly gentle.
“What?” you said, laughing nervously. “Why would you ask that?”
His face fell as he looked back at the steering wheel. “I just thought this would be easier if I’d hurt you in some way.”
Your mouth grew dry. You reached for him. “Kento—”
“Look,” he scrubbed a hand through his hair, the strands coming loose, falling onto his forehead. “I’m not trying to… I don’t want to…” His words fell off, and though you knew what he was trying to say, you didn’t want him to say it, because there was no reason for it. “If something’s wrong, I just want to know. Let’s at least try to fix it.”
“Nothing’s wrong, I promise.” You squeezed his hand, trying to pull away from him. “Can we talk about this inside?” You started to get out of the car.
“No, wait.” He stopped you again, eyes wide with disappointment, like he couldn’t get his words out fast enough. “This is what happens every time. I ask you about it, then you find a way to spin my words around so that we never talk about it. I let you every time, because I love you, and I trust you, but I don’t want to lose you.”
Your heart squeezed. “Kento.” You began, feeling bad that you were forced to talk in circles just to get him to believe in your lies. “I promise, we’ll talk about it inside. It’s still your birthday, and I don’t want to ruin it by misunderstanding one another. Please, let’s talk about it once we’re both settled in.”
Nanami’s shoulders stiffened, then deflated, but he didn’t let go of you. “There’s not… Someone else, is there?”
“Of course not.” You said fervently, kissing his hand. “God, Ken. You think I’d want anyone else when I’ve got you?”
He smiled, though it was half-hearted.
“Come on, let’s go inside. I’ll explain everything. I owe you that much.”
You led him into the house, holding his hand tightly, hoping that this went over as you intended. Beside you, he was still contemplative, flicking on the lights as you continued into your home.
“You know, I really think we should still—”
As the lights came on, his words were cut off by some variation of everyone yelling happy birthday, and he blinked back at the students he’d recently met, and all the sorcerers he’d worked with closely in the previous years. His jaw opened, then shut, then he looked at you, then back to Gojo, and you could see the understanding in his features before he’d expressed it, when everything clicked into place.
A moment of silence passed where Nanami said nothing, and then Itadori decided to fill that silence with very off-key singing, and Kento’s cheeks dusted light pink, barely visible in the light, as he squeezed your hand tighter.
Everyone made the rounds, greeting him with varying levels of enthusiasm, while Nanami just thanked them with quiet politeness, even though you could see that he was secretly pleased, his lips curling up into a smile, the signs of stress dissipating from his features.
Itadori approached with a poorly wrapped gift and a hug that Nanami didn’t quite return, but he didn’t push away, either.
Nanami took the gift, holding it with soft eyes like he’d been given something precious. “Thank you, Yuuji. This is very kind.”
“You’re welcome.” Itadori said back proudly, smiling smugly at his two friends over his shoulder, obviously proud that he’d gotten such praise. “It’s probably going to be the best gift you’ll get tonight.”
You could see Nanami trying to refrain from laughing, but he snorted instead. “Is this why you were asking me about all those things that I liked a few weeks ago?”
“Uhh…” Yuuji smiled sheepishly, rubbing a hand on his neck. “No! Not really. But… Maybe.” He sighed. “I’d thought you’d forget about that.”
Kento’s eyes crinkled at the corner, and he squeezed Itadori’s shoulder, clearly touched.
You kissed his cheek and left him alone to talk with everyone that came to visit, going to thank Gojo and the students that had helped you over the past few weeks.
An hour passed before you found Kento again, after the cake had been cut and Gojo had insisted he opened one of the many gifts he’d gotten him.
He was standing in the kitchen, staring at a pile of wrapped gifts and the sliced cake that wasn’t exactly what you’d intended, but had received the same reaction, nonetheless.
“Kento?” you said quietly, and though you could tell that he was appreciative of everyone, you still weren’t sure how the surprise had gone over. He turned to you, his sleeves rolled up, a few more strands of blond hair coming loose. His cheeks were flushed, eyes soft. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been lying—”
Kento was to you in two long strides, backing you into a wall before kissing you deeply. Your hands curled into his hair, and you hummed into his mouth with a smile as his hands rested on your hips.
“Don’t apologize,” he whispered against your mouth. “I should be the one saying sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to ridiculous conclusions.”
You laughed, kissing him again and again, feeling things finally ease back into normalcy. “I know how it looked—” He looked away, embarrassed that he’d even thought of the possibility that you would leave him for Gojo. “I’m sorry I was so suspicious.” You sighed, leaning back in his arms as you held his cheeks with both hands. “Were you surprised?”
“I wish I wasn’t. It was pretty obvious now that I think back on it.”
“But…”
“But, yes,” he said, kissing your forehead as you preened, proud that it had all pulled together in the end. “I was surprised.” He gave you one last kiss, whispering, “thank you” and “I love you” on your lips.
From behind the door, you heard shuffling, and opened your eyes to see Gojo snapping a picture, to which Nanami groaned, pushing himself away from you reluctantly.
Gojo grinned, “Sorry. I’ll let myself out. Didn’t realize you two lovebirds were in here,” he said, even though he most certainly did.
“Please do,” Nanami gestured in the direction of the front door. “I hate the fact that you even know where I live.”
Gojo’s face fell. “After everything I did for your birthday, and you’re still going to pretend you don’t like me?”
“I don’t.” Nanami sighed, before swallowing down whatever antagonist words he really wanted to say. “But thank you. I really do appreciate it.”
Gojo beamed—you intervened before he could even think to throw his arms around Kento.
2K notes · View notes
cherryblossom-heart · 5 months ago
Text
Could you love me one last time? (B.B ModernAU!)
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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
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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.”
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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?”
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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.
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“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.
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“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.
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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.
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“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.”
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“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.
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“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.
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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.”
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“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.
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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.
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puppym3 · 5 months ago
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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.
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friction and fire
enemies to lovers one bed trope with bangchan.
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insecure chan
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perv roommate chan
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⊹₊⋆ 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.
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'i love that i like you, but i don't wanna love' (angst + hurt comfort)
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⊹₊⋆ 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.
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⊹₊⋆ hyunjin
dear farmer, (fluff)
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preparing for fashion week (fluff)
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⊹₊⋆ han
skincare night (FLUFF)
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jealous!jisung
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best friend's older brother
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⊹₊⋆ 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.
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transfer test
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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.
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⊹₊⋆ 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.
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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.
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unmasked
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⊹₊⋆ 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.
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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!
leave an estimated wc that you'd like me to base the suggestion off of! if you'd like me to write until i feel the fic is done, that's fine aswell.
would you like me to include decorations, a title, pictures, a synopsis? or would you rather just have the text by itself?
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!
these aren't commissioned, i won't take money from my dear followers, i just want to make your day ♡︎
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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!
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mattsturnioloz · 2 months ago
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I found you again: Pt 2.
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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
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hannyoontify · 4 months ago
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casual - yoon jeonghan [teaser]
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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!
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“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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thollandsgirl2013 · 2 months ago
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𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦
Parings → Peter Parker x Reader
Warnings → insecurities, fluff, angst
Summary → Seven minutes in heaven, what could happen?
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(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 ༻˖ ࣪ ∗
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urlibragirl · 8 months ago
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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
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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. 
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a/n : i wrote this at 2 a.m, so there might be grammar mistakes sorry
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lucid-loves · 10 months ago
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First Light ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 2
Pairing: bodyguard!Ghost x princess!reader (fem!reader)
Word Count: 4.4k
CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, verbal abuse by parents, physical abuse by parents, psychological abuse by parents, opposites attract, forbidden love, slow burn, fluff, attraction and sexual tension, reader POV and ghost POV, minors DNI, eventual smut, virgin reader
Let me know if I missed any CWs.
Story Synopsis: After receiving death threats from a mysterious terrorist organization, your royal parents make a decision to reach out to the United States for help. Specifically, they want the US to send a bodyguard to protect their precious princess. When the 141 is called upon to investigate, Ghost is the one assigned to protect you. With your lack of experiences outside of your royal life and his experience with nothing but deadly, worldly affairs, opposites attract.
Chapter Synopsis: You and Ghost have grown more comfortable with each other as both of you got used to a new routine. However, a sudden party announcement along with a marriage proposal from a new bachelor drives the both of you to become even closer.
Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8
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It’s been a couple weeks since Ghost was introduced to you as your new bodyguard. The first few days were rough as Ghost spent most of his time understanding the palace layout and your daily schedules. Once he got more familiar with the entire place, though, he was much more relaxed. He got used to following close behind you all while understanding where to go if things went south. He took his job of protecting you very seriously, especially after getting to know you little by little.
You settled into the new addition to your routine nicely. While it was awkward trying to figure out what to talk about around bedtime, you always ended up finding something to open up about. Ghost always listened carefully.
At the end of the day, you both still managed to keep your distance. Besides the occasional stolen glances, the both of you were good about maintaining some professionalism. Even during tea time when he would accept your offer to sit with you. You normally didn’t speak about anything too specific since you didn’t want to get in trouble, so most of that time was enjoyed in complete silence. Ghost never minded. He understood that you had to be selective with your words. Sometimes, he admired how seriously you took your responsibilities as well.
It was a rainy day when you were given a revised schedule to follow for the next few days, one that had you raise your brows as soon as you saw how even more unusually packed it was. Your independent study time was scrapped. You didn’t have to attend piano lessons anymore either. Instead, they were replaced with etiquette-type classes. Table setting, conversation practice, ballroom dancing. Everything pointed to the preparation of a party.
As you looked over your schedule, the room was silent save for the patter of rain against the glass. Thunder lightly rumbled in the distance. Your mother sat across from you, giving you time to drink it all in. Ghost stood behind you near the shadows, watching everything unfold.
When you were done comprehending your schedule, you looked up at your mother inquisitively. “What is the occasion?”
“There is a gentleman that we have been communicating with who has recently entered the country for a trip abroad. He is an exceptional bachelor with the money and status to support a proper lifestyle. He sent an invitation for tea with us, but we figured that an important man like him needed a more memorable experience in Stuoca.” Your mother cheerfully explained, clearly excited for this party. She sipped her tea, proud of herself for orchestrating such an event to happen.
You picked up your favorite teacup and gripped it firmly. The warmth of the tea passing the porcelain and into your palms provided you comfort as your head swirled. Your mother wasn’t explicit in her intentions of this party and it bothered you. Reading into her words, you knew what she intended for you, though.
“You are marrying me off.” You revealed, your eyes widening at your little slip. You meant to choose better words, but perhaps you were growing too bitter to think straight. Ghost, who was listening intently, was now fully at attention like he was called by his captain. 
At first, he listened for information. An outside party needed to be investigated in order to keep you safe. He didn’t pick up on what your mother was implying in the midst of it. When you exposed this truth, that’s when he grew rigid. 
“Come now, you shouldn’t say it like that. We are securing your future. If you want to maintain the life that you have, then it would be good to marry. Besides, you are not getting any younger.” The queen jabbed with a bright smile. Her implicit insult stung. 
Your mother was always like this. She was even more subtle in front of your father, so this was actually rather explicit of her. You had to bite your tongue to avoid letting your bitterness seep out once more. “My apologies. I am just surprised that this is happening so quickly.”
Her gaze sharpened as she graded your sincerity. It wasn’t like you had lied, but you avoided telling the full truth on how you felt. Your mother scoffed as you failed to exchange more grateful words with her. “This is for the best. You should be appreciative of this effort. Most women your age have to search for their security all by themselves. They rarely find the perfect one on the first try too. You're lucky that you won’t have to go through the pain of that.”
You bit your cheek hard to avoid an outburst, a metallic taste on your tastebuds. You didn’t say anything as your mother got up and left the room, allowing you to finish your teatime all by yourself. This was her idea of a punishment. If you couldn’t be grateful for her time, then she would give you only a little of her time. Little did she know that you preferred it when she gave you none of her time at all.
As soon as the door was completely closed and her heels clicked further down the hall, you buried your face in your hands. You didn’t know if you wanted to cry or break the throw the expensive teapot out of the window. The stinging in your chest grew to a malicious weight, making you feel like you were drowning. You already had so little control of your life. Now you were expected to give up your life to a man you didn’t know. 
“Princess?” A deep yet soft voice called out. You looked up only to find Ghost sitting on the couch across from you. Lightning flashed from the window followed by a bellowing rumble. Your breath caught in your throat as he looked at you with a patient gaze. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what to say. 
Actually, he knew exactly what he wanted to say. He wanted to go up to your mother and rip her a new one. It wasn’t like you were withering away from old age like your mother seemed to think. You were young, intelligent, skilled. For someone that dedicated your schedule on a regular basis, she sure didn’t know a thing about you. From what Ghost had seen from you in the past two weeks, you were very much capable of handling yourself or learning quickly how to.
Ghost could say a million things. The problem was that none of those words may be the right words you needed. Your world was different from his and he was still trying to figure it out. Saying what he wanted to say from his perspective may not have been appropriate or helpful to you.
Finally, you spoke up. Your tone was quiet and grave. “My apologies that you had to overhear that conversation. I shouldn’t be surprised that my parents are ready for me to marry. I just never expected that I would be the one having to do the impressing.”
You were right. Why should you be the one having to dance for this stranger? It should be him that should be trying to impress you. Ghost poured himself some tea, thinking about how backwards this all seemed. “You don’t know anything about this man, right? Your parents have never mentioned him before today?”
“No. They don’t usually say anything to me until events are just around the corner. I don’t have much of a social life outside of the palace walls either, so there wouldn’t be any way for me to really know this bachelor’s true character.” You began thinking more clearly, Ghost’s questions actually helping you approach this much more tactfully. It was like he was helping you come up with a plan. 
“You don’t want to marry this guy or just in general?” He asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. It was a rather personal question, one that would have to be kept secret between the both of you. 
You paused, thinking about his question very carefully. Once again, he was trying to get to know how you really felt about things. Ghost seemed to be the only one in the palace that genuinely wanted to know what you thought. After a sip of warm, slightly sweet tea, you gave him your truth. 
A truth that a princess would give too. “I want to marry who I choose and I would choose out of love. I refuse to marry someone that I do not love. This potential bachelor. . . who is to say that I would not fall in love with him the moment I lay my eyes on him? Though, I do doubt this. I am unsure if I could trust his potential personality if the only people who could vouch for him are my parents. Their values in a partner may not reflect my own.”
Ghost has been getting better at deciphering your cryptic princess language. From what he understood, you didn’t reject the idea of marriage. You just wanted it to be out of your own choice of love. A reasonable answer. A bit romantic too. Like a true princess, you believed that love at first sight was possible. Ghost didn’t think he could agree with that. Though, your hint at valuing certain characteristics in a potential spouse piqued his interest in a way he couldn’t explain. “What do you value?”
For a moment, you looked out the window, another flash of lightning illuminating the rainy gray outside. As the light hit your features for a brief moment, Ghost felt his heart skip a beat. Now, you were giving a daydreaming, sweet smile. “I value courage, ambition, and openly high morals. Someone that isn’t afraid of pursuing their passions, satiating their curiosities appropriately, and standing up for what is right. Someone that I could grow alongside with their complete support. Someone that would not only see me as a lover, but as my own person too.”
He couldn’t help but feel his face grow a little warm as you described your ideal man. Though he couldn’t say he checked off all of those boxes, a part of him did feel like you were describing someone like him, even if you didn’t know it. At the very least, you obviously wanted someone that could put their money where their mouth was. Someone with bark and bite.
Not that he would actively pursue you. He lightly shook his head while you weren’t looking, ridding his thoughts of the idea of him being the perfect man for you. “It sounds like you know what you want.”
Those words gave you courage for some reason. Confidence. It surprised you to be filled with such confidence from that simple sentence alone. You looked towards Ghost, your breath hitching slightly as he stared at you with those blue eyes of his. “Yes, I do know what I want.”
“I’ll help you however I can, then. I’m going to run background checks on this guy. Checks on everyone that received an invite as well. I’ll make sure that you are only present at the party for strictly one hour. I still have my job to protect you, after all.” He promised you. If you couldn’t speak up against your parents due to decorum, then hopefully this would give you what you need to fight back instead.
“Thank you, Lieutenant Ghost. I truly do appreciate it.” You gratefully beamed. Who knew that when you were given a bodyguard that you would be given a friend as well.
~
The next few days were busy. While Ghost followed you around to your now tighter classes, he was also doing background checks on every single person that your parents sent an invite out to. Which was a lot. Jesus, when he saw the list of people he wanted to smack them both. It was incredibly dangerous for them to have so many people at the palace at once considering the threats against them and their daughter. It became clear that your parents were more concerned about protecting their public image or parading you around like a doll than about your true safety. 
You felt that classes were a little easier to handle with Ghost being so focused on his laptop. Normally, he would be watching you carry on with your classes. Now that he was preoccupied with his own work, you felt less like you were giving a performance and like you were genuinely learning. Though, you did wish that he would look at you once you were finished with a successful new dance. For some reason, you craved some of his attention now that you had less of it.
Nights were different as well. While you had grown accustomed to talking yourself to sleep with Ghost listening to your every word, he had to focus on getting all the background checks complete. He also took it upon himself to tighten up some security detail. He was extremely busy making sure that you were safe, so it was hard to be upset with him. Yet, you still felt a bit lonely.
One night, you just couldn’t sleep. You laid awake for hours, trying to drift off to dreamland to no avail. Part of it was nerves over the upcoming party. Part of it was fear of being assassinated or kidnapped. Part of it was bundles of creative energy that needed to be released. You usually got it out of your system during independent study or piano, but now that it was gone for now, your fingers were itching to do something you wanted to do.
Quietly, you sat up in bed, listening carefully outside the door. You knew that Ghost usually spent his time guarding you out there. You wondered if he was still there or borrowing an office somewhere to complete his work. Either way, you wanted to be a little sneaky with or without him.
You opened the bedroom door a smidge, looking along the hallways to see if Ghost or anyone was up and around. Moonlight shined through the large windows, illuminating the halls brightly in a white light. You stepped out, now seeing Ghost situated at a small oak desk that was placed out in the hall for him right outside the door. His attention was already on you, having noticed the small opening of the door. “Couldn’t sleep?”
“I have too much energy.” You explained briefly, fearful that he may tell you to go back into your room. Thankfully, he seemed to understand.
“You usually sneak out in the middle of the night?” He teased, catching you off guard. You didn’t realize that Ghost could have such a playful tone.
“Sometimes, yes.” You answered honestly. Ghost was a little surprised by your answer. You were more defiant than you usually looked. Sneaking banned books, sneaking out of your bedroom at night. Not that you were doing anything bad. You just did what you could to explore your true interests. 
Ghost closed his laptop and picked it up, ready to follow you to wherever you wished to go. “Where to then?”
Swiftly, you led him to a far part of the palace, a room that was far from your parent’s wing. Without alerting any palace staff, the both of you snuck into the room. In the middle of the room was a pure white grand piano. There were some shelves lined with books about music along with piano sheet music. There was a couch with a table as well, which would allow Ghost to continue working while you tired yourself out. 
As you situated yourself in front of the piano, the lieutenant got himself all set up on the couch. For some reason, you were calm. Comfortable. You thought that you would be nervous with Ghost being your audience once more, but that wasn’t the case. In fact, you have never felt more secure than you did then. Even as you had the chance to play the music that you weren’t normally allowed to play.
You started up with warm-ups. Simple scales, listening to the tune of the piano. Feeling the weight of the pedals under your feet along with the weight of the keys under your fingertips. Ghost has grown familiar with that scale. He didn’t have any particular musical talent, yet he still appreciated it. The classics and simple songs you played were good.
As Ghost worked to the sound of your playing, the both of you fell into a comfortable groove. With your playing, Ghost felt more efficient in his work. You felt more confident in your abilities. Along with this, you began to branch out a little more, practicing classical songs that you were familiar with.
However, you played them. Truly. Not how your instructors guided you to play or how the sheet music dictated. No. You felt the emotions in each note. Each sound was played naturally as if it was second nature to you. Full of passion like the songs were intended to be played. Classical music that Ghost had admittedly grew bored of listening to just about every day, no matter how well you played, was now completely enthralled. Even songs he’s heard before meeting you seemed to breathe new life as you played with your heart rather than your head. 
Before Ghost knew it, all of his attention was on watching and listening to you play. He saw how you closed your eyes, your fingers naturally finding each key without the use of sheet music. How you swayed as your hands moved. How you beautifully smiled to yourself as you heard the wonderful sounds your hands made. 
It only got better when you began to play songs that weren’t of the classical variety. Songs that would have you banned from playing the piano in the palace. Hell, banned from music in general. There were some modern songs that Ghost recognized, now given your own flair. He didn’t even know how you knew some of those songs, but that didn’t matter. 
You had talent. Real talent. A clear love for music and the piano.
An hour passed by of him neglecting his work just to watch you play. When you finished a final song, you were breathing heavily as if you had just worked out. Your heart was beating hard in your chest. Once you managed to catch your breath, Ghost spoke up, unable to remain just the silent audience. “Why don’t you play like that during classes? You only play the basics with your tutor.”
You nearly had forgotten that Ghost had been there. You weren’t even aware that he had been listening to you play the entire time. A blush spread across your cheeks as you grew bashful all of a sudden. “It is believed that I am slow at learning the piano. I don’t correct this assumption since I don’t want to be pressured to play even more songs that I don’t find much joy in. At least, not the way they want me to play. I. . . I also don’t want to give my parents another party trick that they can exploit.”
His fists clenched at the mention of your parents. With each passing day, he’s come to resent your parents more and more. How they treat you, control your life, and regard you like a pet rather than a daughter was making his blood simmer more each day. It was getting harder for him to hold his true opinions back. “You deserve more. You deserve to play whatever you want whenever you want.”
Your eyes grew wide at his open criticism. This was the first time he spoke his mind like this. Ghost was careful in his words just as you were up until this point. It was actually rather refreshing to hear him not hold back for once. “Thank you. I hope that I can someday get to that point.”
It felt like a wall between the both of you had crumbled down. As the moonlight fell upon your soft features, your optimism for the future bright in your eyes, Ghost felt himself choke up. This was you at your rebelliousness. You were a princess that snuck around in the night to enjoy forbidden knowledge. And he wanted to be part of that.
For a moment, he understood how people could fall in love at first sight.
You began to toy around with the piano again, this time playing a little more quietly and simpler so that Ghost could get back to work. While it was hard to focus on what he needed to do because he wanted to take in more of the beauty he was in the presence of, he managed to finish what he wanted to do for the night. 
He finished his background check on this bachelor that your mother wanted you to marry. Ghost read everything that he could find on the guy. Net worth, news coverage, social media, and even criminal history. Kate was a massive help in finding more confidential information too. Everything was compiled into a report that he wrote himself. When it was done, he got up from the couch and sat down beside you on the piano bench. 
“Would you like to hear the report?” He simply offered, not wanting to break your light playing.
With a nod, you prepared yourself for what Ghost found. He took a deep breath before reading. “Royal background. A duke. Only a couple of years older than you are. Owns a lot of land and has a lot of wealth-”
“I don’t care about any of that.” You interrupted, your tone suddenly a bit colder. As Ghost looked at you with slight shock, you turned your head away. He didn’t expect you to speak up like that. The fact that you did meant that you were getting more comfortable with him though. You were taking this seriously as well.
“What would you like to hear then, Princess?” He offered, giving you more control that you deserved. 
When he spoke back to you so softly, you met his eyes once more. The piano bench was decently big, but Ghost was a big man. You could feel his body heat radiating off of him. As you looked up, you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach. The way he looked at you like you deserved the world made you feel lighter than air. When you gazed into his eyes, you felt like you could see his genuinity. 
You trusted him. You trusted that he was an excellent judge of character as well. Much more than your own parents. “Based on the values that you know I am looking for, is he a good fit for me?”
Ghost bit his tongue hard, stopping his immediate response from escaping. He wanted to say no. Based on everything he read, this guy seemed stuck-up. Seedy. He had quite a few exes under his belt, not even counting just one-off flings. He didn’t have a criminal record or seemed to be dealing with anything particularly shady, but he did take advantage of his wealthy and royal status to experience certain things in life, regardless of how others may feel.
Then again, Ghost felt like his brain was foggy. Like he couldn’t really make a fair judgment because he wanted to reject him immediately. He had a bias against him. Where it came from exactly, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he didn’t trust him to be the one for you. He didn’t want you anywhere near him either.
For now, he decided to be earnest yet nice. “I don’t think he would be a good match based on his track records, but who’s to say that he isn’t better in person. You’ll have an hour to judge him at the very least.”
Your heart fell as you heard his answer. It wasn’t that you were disappointed over this stranger probably not being the best for you. No. You were disappointed that Ghost wasn’t more blunt with what he thought. You appreciated how he was trying to preserve your feelings, but you didn’t want that right now. You wished that he could protest some more, any excuse not to meet this stranger and play into the hands of your parents. 
As he saw the flash of anguish on your face, Ghost felt his heart break. He could tell that you were really hesitant about this man. You didn’t even want to meet him if you had the choice. Without thinking, he took up your hands and squeezed. His hand was so much bigger than yours. Rougher, sturdier. Hands that have done things that you would never be able to fully comprehend. And now, they were holding yours. 
“One hour. That’s all. However, if you tell me that you hate him, even within the first second of seeing him, I’ll make sure that he won’t even get to touch you.” His tone was resolute, unwavering. 
As he put the control back in your hands, you squeezed his hands right back. Your heart swelled again as if on a rollercoaster. The moonlight cutting across the skull mask you have gotten used to only to brighten his deep, blue eyes made you melt. “Thank you, Lieutenant.” 
-
Taglist: @angel-anna @ghostlythots @maiyatheprettiestprincess
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hwaslayer · 11 months ago
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project: make you love me (jyh) | fifteen.
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♣︎ spotify playlist | series masterlist
—summary: yunho can’t stand how you’re so wrapped up in the notorious campus fuckboy, park seonghwa. he would gladly love you the way you deserve, despite being shy, awkward and the complete opposite of seonghwa. thus, when he finds himself spending more time with you over literature reviews and random study sessions, he decides to take on the challenge to win you over.
—pairing: jeong yunho x f. reader x park seonghwa
—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers/friends to lovers, college au | fluff, angst, smut
—word count: 3.6k
—chapter content/warnings: cussing/mature language, surprise bday party for oc!!, but another day of seonghwa getting on yunho's [everyone's] nerves, yunho is fucking cute 😭 they are fucking cute ok!!, alcohol consumption/intoxication, kisses, making out, shower smut scene (not super descriptive), more angry protective yunho comes in the next update i promise!
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"I'm so sorry, babe. I know it's your birthday, but I have to take care of this family thing really quickly." Chaery whines over the phone. "I'll be back before it hits midnight, and we can have our own little celebration, okay? Just me, you and the boys. Enjoy your day with Yunho for now, please." You sigh heavily, bummed that your bestfriend wouldn't be around until later.
"Okay."
"I'll be there, I promise."
"Okay, Chaery." You fiddle with the hem of Yunho's sheets.
"I love you! I have to go and take care of this so that I can come back sooner!"
"I love you, too." You respond, ending the call. You silently sit criss-crossed on Yunho's bed, staring at the phone now sitting below you. Yunho walks in just as he's hopped out the shower, immediately keeping you company while you sulk and pout to yourself.
"Why the long face, princess?"
"I'm just bummed I won't get to see my friends until right before midnight. I get that they have stuff to do but they've always celebrated my birthday with me." You sigh. "I dunno why this time had to be different. Soobin says he's stuck studying with his project group and Seungmin literally is nowhere to be found right now." Your bottom lip pokes out and Yunho thinks you are the cutest thing in the world. He wishes he could tell you, but he doesn't wanna slip up and ruin your surprise. So, he plays along, also poking his bottom lip out.
"I'm sorry, love." Yunho sits on the edge of the bed, hand coming to caress your chin. "I promise I'll make your birthday worthwhile. Okay? Then your friends will be home and I'll get you back as soon as possible." You continue to pout while you nod in agreement. "No more." Yunho chuckles, leaning forward to peck you on the lips. "Please trust me to make your birthday better."
"I do."
"Okay then no more of this." He taps on your bottom lip. "Now, can I ask you to please get dressed so I can take you to dinner?"
"Or.. we can stay here. I'm okay with staying in." You cup his cheeks and he shakes his head.
"As much as I love doing that with you—" He taps the tip of your nose. "No can do, baby. I have to take you to dinner cause we have other plans afterwards."
"What are these plans?"
"Mm, you can't do that." He stands and walks towards his closet. "You placed your trust in me, so don't go back on it now." You let out a playful sigh as you step down from his bed and go through your duffle bag. Because Yunho told you to keep it pretty casual, you slip into your denim mini skirt, a black baby tee, your baseball jacket and converse highs. Yunho spins you around and puckers his lips, playfully [but sweetly] complimenting you as he holds your hand and guides you to the car.
Yunho has a casual dinner planned at one of your favorite restaurants downtown, reserving a table in the beautiful patio underneath one of the outdoor heaters. You squeal when you're able to order your favorite savory crepe after craving it for some time, Yunho giggling at how excited you look when the food finally arrives. The both of you always have neverending conversations about life, school; amongst other topics you find interesting. Conversations are always so fun and lively with Yunho, and it's one of your favorite parts about him. He's comfortable enough to be his silly self, while playing along with your own humor and bad jokes— always making you feel like his one and only special girl.
When it's time for dessert, Yunho has the waitress bring over a slice of cheesecake with a single candle lit in the center— singing along with the staff as they sing happy birthday. He captures a few candid photos just as you're about to make a wish and blow your candle, full on heart eyes when he looks at you through his phone screen.
"Here." He shows you the photos. "The prettiest." You feel the heat rise to your cheeks. "Wonder if she has a boyfriend." He looks at the photo, making you laugh.
"Stop." You take some of your cheesecake and feed him some, feeling content and satisfied with dinner. "So, what's next?"
"Are you finished?" You nod. "Alright. Not telling you, though." He clears his throat before calling the waitress over for the check. "Have you heard from your roommates?" You check your phone as the receipt arrives, Yunho signing off on the bottom line.
"No." You sigh. "Ah well, I guess I'll hear from them when I hear from them, right?" He nods.
"You'll see them before it hits midnight, baby. They wouldn't miss it for a thing." You shrug.
"I know. I am having a good time with you, though."
"Good." He holds his hand out for you to take, leading you out of the restaurant patio and back to the car. Once situated in the passenger seat, Yunho leans over and sweetly asks for a kiss before he drives off. The kiss continues on though, and Yunho is forcing himself to break the kiss [before he takes you home and forgets the entire plan he worked so hard on]. "Mm, Y/N. Please." He slightly hisses, feeling his boxers become a bit tight around the area. "I have to take you to the next spot."
"Really?"
"Yes." He laughs and takes out a blindfold, causing you to raise a brow at the item in his hand.
"Where the hell did you get that?"
"My pocket." He smirks. "You still trust me, right?"
"Mhm. I think?"
"Alright, gonna have to put this on you."
"Kinky." You tease as you fix your position and let Yunho properly fix the blindfold on you.
"Could show you kinky if you want." You snort when he sits back into the driver's seat. "Not too tight?"
"Nope." He begins to drive off to the next destination.
"Cool. Off we go then."
It's probably a good [but long behind the blindfold] 10 minutes before you feel Yunho entering a lot and parking the car. He tells you to stay put, helping you out from the passenger side before guiding you into a building.
It is loud, and it sounds familiar.
"Yunho, why are we at a bowling alley?"
"Because." He says, pausing in his steps before removing your blindfold. As soon as you regain your vision, you see all of your friends in front of you, including your mom, dad and sister. "Remember when you said you and your family love to bowl, but haven't in awhile?" 
"Surprise!" They all yell loudly, your family reaching you first for tight hugs and sweet greetings.
"Happy birthday!" Yeosang playfully ruffles your hair before pulling you into a hug.
"Are you serious?" You feel your bottom lip tremble as you begin to cry greeting the rest of your friends. "I thought you two had to take care of stuff. A-and you, you've been MIA all day?!" You cry at your roommates, making them laugh.
"I had to make it more believable than these two." Seungmin laughs.
"Babe, did you really think we'd stupidly miss your birthday?" Chaery holds you close.
"Yes." You pout.
"Yunho's been planning this for awhile, and we would never miss it for the world." She points at the balloons, cake and gifts. "You've got a keeper." She says with a big smile, rubbing your arm to stop you from crying. You continue to greet the rest of the group around, noticing a few other people from school also hanging out for your birthday festivities.
"Birthday shots?!" Yeonjun yells, ordering for a round of shots to be delivered to the lanes. Before everyone takes their shot, your dad makes a little speech for your birthday, thanking Yunho for bringing everyone together on your special day. Yunho stands behind you, allowing you to rest against him while he adds onto your dad's speech— thanking everyone for helping plan and coming along to celebrate.
"Happy birthday, baby." He whispers in your ear.
"Thank you." You look up at him and give him a peck on the lips.
"Happy birthday to our Y/N!" Hyunjin yells, giving everyone leverage to down the first shot of the night. Bowling begins shortly afterwards, with your family and friends sharing lanes to kick off some friendly competition. You continue to take a few more shots with friends in between bowling, conversing with everyone and having a good time with the people you love being under one roof. As you converse and happily yell around with your friends, your eyes land on Yunho across the room. He meets your gaze, his smile growing as he keeps his eyes on you mid-conversation with your mom and sister in between his turns.
And god, he just wants to kiss you, hold you, do everything in his power to show you just how much you mean to him. 
He loves you.
His laugh is what breaks the contact, your sister probably teasing him about your relationship or spitting random jokes about the two of you growing up. You giggle to yourself feeling the butterflies in your tummy, wondering how on earth you've gotten so lucky with him.
"I hope you've been having a good birthday so far." Chaery squeezes your arm and leans her head on your shoulder.
"I am." You laugh. "Well, I was kinda upset about you guys because I really believed we wouldn't be able to celebrate together."
"Never." Chaery giggles. "Come on, let's go order some more drinks."
"It's almost your turn!" Jongho yells. 
"Bowl for me!" Chaery responds as she drags you to the bar and food area. The two of you order some delicious, fruity cocktails, chatting away with the friendly bartender who sweetly puts the drinks on the house. At this point, you're feeling a good buzz, cheeks hot with the alcohol running through your veins. You and Chaery stick around for a bit with the bartender while tasting your drinks, Yunho eyeing the place to find any sign of you.
But, it's not you he sees first, no.
It's Park Seonghwa.
It's Seonghwa walking into the bowling alley with Mingi and San, and his smile instantly drops. Why the fuck was Seonghwa here, and why did it have to be on your birthday? It feels like trouble, but Yunho can't exactly say he's surprised though. Because of course Seonghwa would find out about this. Of course he'd invite himself to the bowling alley. Of course he'd try and make himself relevant on your birthday.
Dick.
Luckily though, just before Yunho can think of the worst, you finally come into his view and happily skip over with the drink in your hand. All the feelings instantly melt away, the smile returning to his face in an instant.
"Hi." You cutely smile at him.
"Hi." He responds, gently pinching your cheek. "What's that, birthday girl?"
"Taste it." You giggle. He takes a sip of your cocktail, nodding in approval.
"Dangerous."
"But fun, isn't it?" You laugh. "I think I have to pee, though." You start to chug the rest of your drink.
"Slow down, baby." He laughs. "Need me to bring you over there?"
"I can make it." You point at the board. "Can you bowl for me too if I don't make in time?"
"Can't promise it'll be a good one."
"You're good at everything, love." You smile before giving him a quick peck on the cheek. "Be back!" You yell before rushing to the bathroom. The alley has started to fill up over time, a bunch of other groups and families gathering along the other lanes to play some fun, competitive games against each other. You power walk down towards the arcade end where the bathrooms are situated, brushing past a few people and dodging others as they hang around the walkways. When you finally approach the hallway, you feel someone grab at your wrist and gently tug you back— a frown immediately plastered on your face because not only do you really have to pee, but you find yourself facing Seonghwa.
"Hey. I've been trying to find you just to tell you happy birthday." Seonghwa smiles. "Happy birthday, sweetheart."
"Thanks." You try to wiggle out of his grip, but he tightens it and gently tugs you back.
"Baby in too much of a hurry for me?"
"Seonghwa. Seriously?" You glare at him and he laughs. "I really need to go to the bathroom."
"Jeez. So uptight even on your birthday. Yunho's still gonna be in the same position as you left him."
"Great, that's all I want." You brush past him to finally get to the bathroom. "Excuse me." Seonghwa watches as you leave, a small sigh leaving his lips. He heard about the little party Yunho had prepared for you and decided it'd be a good time to stop by. He's not gonna lie, he doesn't care much for bowling as much as San and Mingi do, but he did want to see you and try to talk to you. One, to wish you happy birthday. Two, to see you. And three, to try and ask about the flowers he dropped off because he hasn't heard anything about them.
He was trying, and he was hoping you'd see that. Even though this was new territory for him, he wasn't gonna give up that easily. After all, you and him had more history than Yunho. And that keeps him going.
When Seonghwa turns to find his boys, he sees Mingi and San mingling with the group; even getting a random bowl in or two. Mingi's talking to Yunho and he can't help but roll his eyes; completely over Yunho's entire act.
"Oh, tell Y/N I said happy birthday then!" Mingi gives Yunho a dap as soon as Seonghwa makes his way over and squeezes his shoulder.
"Yeah, let her know for me too, will you? Wanted to give her a gift, but we didn't really have time to catch up since she was on her way to the bathroom." Seonghwa winks. "Know how much she loves the little things."
"Yeah, I'm good off of that." Yunho responds before sipping on his drink, Yeosang slowly coming to his side as Seonghwa chuckles at his answer.
"Come on dude, that's his girlfriend now." San mumbles next to him, making Seonghwa shake his head.
"Yeah, whatever." He clears his throat. "Anyway. Let's get the fuck outta here. Hella boring." Seonghwa turns on his heel and starts heading out of the alley, San clicking his teeth in slight frustration while Mingi obliviously waves to Yunho and bids his farewell.
"Tell her!" Mingi yells and Yunho gives him a nod of acknowledgement.
"He's joking, right?" Yeosang asks.
"Wish he was. Can't say I'm surprised, though."
"Don't let him get to you. He's just trying to get a reaction out of you."
"I know. But, I don't get why he won't just leave her alone? Why doesn't he get it?" Yeosang shakes his head.
"Dude has always gotten his way. He's not used to being left." Yunho lets out a small scoff before sitting, eyes scanning the area again until he can find you. He's not gonna lie, he's a little uneasy after that, and he wishes he could just have you here and shield you away from the rest of the world—
"I'm back." You announce, your sister handing you another shot to take before pushing you to bowl. Everything is ten times louder than it was before, and you're definitely still a bit drunk. "Yuyu!" You yell.
"Hey princess." Yunho looks up at you as you sit sideways on his lap, arm swung over his shoulder. "You okay, birthday girl?"
"Mhm. Better." He chuckles, his hand giving your thigh a squeeze. "How about you?" You tilt your head to the side and although Yunho is a little worked up from the encounter with Seonghwa, he can't help but melt in your presence. It's hard to stay mad at anything when you're around.
"I'm good as long as you are." You giggle. "Heard you ran—?" You lean forward, unable to hear him clearly through the music and people yelling.
"What?"
"Heard you ran into Seonghwa. What was that about?"
"Seonghwa being Seonghwa." He looks at you with his brows slightly furrowed, and you're unsure if he believes you or not. He does, it's really not that he doesn't. He just doesn't trust Seonghwa and he can't help it especially with the history you two have.
Even though you were his, a tiny part of him was still scared that you'd leave him for Seonghwa; especially with the way that he didn't seem to be giving up on you so easily.
Too bad Yunho wouldn't give up on you either. Ain't no way he'd let someone come for his woman.
He'll make sure that's clear.
"You sure that's all?" You pause and slightly hesitate before responding.
"Of course." You look at him and your heart sinks. Would you be creating unnecessary drama over something that you have no interest in anymore? Would it matter or change anything if you told him about those roses? "He just wished me happy birthday and I brushed past him."
"Hm." Is all he says before kissing you on the cheek. "Okay."
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The rest of the night continues to be a party— you and your loved ones happily bowling, drinking and playing; going on for hours until people start to leave one by one. Your family gives you extra hugs and kisses, thanking Yunho for taking care of you and for getting everyone together for your birthday.
In the end, your roommates take the remainder of the cake home, while you, Yeosang and Yunho head back to their place for the night.
"Today was so fun!"
"Yeah?" Yunho laughs.
"So fun. I'm still kinda drunk."
"Kinda?" Yeosang laughs seeing you hang onto Yunho's arm, which turns into you hanging onto him like a koala.
"Kinda! I'm not that drunk. Just enough." You burp against Yunho's neck.
"Ou, nice. That was a good one." Yunho says, waddling up the steps and carefully guiding you up along with him. "Think you can beat that with another?"
"No. I'll probably throw up." 
"Don't want that, now do we?" He chuckles, giving you room to kick off your shoes in the apartment before heading to the room. 
"I wanna take a quick shower." You say as you grab some of Yunho's clothes and waddle to the bathroom.
"You should probably go in there." Yeosang gives Yunho's shoulder a squeeze. "I'll leave some medicine and water by your bed for her."
"Thanks." Yunho quickly snags his own pajamas before slipping into the bathroom to make sure you're okay. "You okay there, baby?" You've just stepped under the water when Yunho walks in, the outline of your body still clear through the shower doors.
"Mhm. Water feels nice." You let out a content sigh before dropping Yunho's body wash bottle.
"Hm." He hums. "Mind if I step in with you?"
"Nope." He sheds off his clothes and steps into the piping hot shower, eyes glossing over your body. 
"Can I help you with that?" Yunho asks, gently taking the loofa from your hands. You giggle as he starts with your back, turning you around once he's satisfied to cover your front. You kiss him in between, smiling against his lips before you take your turn to help get him washed up. His hands start to roam your body, gently squeezing at your sides when you continue to kiss him the way you do, love on him the way you do. 
Innocent kisses turn into heated makeout sessions with the water still pounding against your skin, to Yunho slowly and gently taking you against the cold wall; large hand propping up your leg as he shushes you against your lips, whispering praises in between little reminders of keeping it quiet. Eventually, the both of you reach your highs— the two of you caught in a  giggle fit afterwards knowing that you have to repeat the process and wash up all over again.
He wouldn't have it any other way though, and so wouldn't you. You feel like you're on cloud nine after today, heart filled with so much love especially because of Yunho.
Life is just so much sweeter with him in it, and you love him.
After the both of you wash off again, you step out of the shower and finish getting ready for bed. You thank Yeosang and bid him goodnight before stepping into the room and slipping under the covers.
"Did you have a good day today?" Yunho asks, close to a whisper.
"The best birthday I've had."
"Yeah?" He chuckles.
"Mhm." You caress his cheek and look him in the eyes. "Thank you, Yunho. For everything."
"Of course, baby." He kisses your forehead. "You deserve it all." He watches with a small smile on his face as you quickly fall asleep, hand gently rubbing your back. After today's festivities, Yunho should be sleeping. But tonight, it feels like a stretch when the thoughts at the back of his mind come to the forefront; a tiny sigh leaving his lips when he remembers the encounter with Seonghwa. He feels uneasy, kinda unsettled and annoyed. He remembers the small detail of hesitancy that pulled up on your expression. He's not sure why, and he's not trying to figure it out right now.
It's frustrating.
He doesn't want to assume you're hiding something from him, that something odd is going on, though his gut tells him otherwise.
And for once, he truly hopes it's wrong.
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bradshawssugarbaby · 11 months ago
Text
Beer Never Broke My Heart - Jake Seresin x Reader
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A/N: another country music inspired TGM oneshot because why not. Beer Never Broke My Heart by Luke Combs is a fave and it's been stuck in my head all day so, here we go.
Pairing: Jake Seresin x reader
warnings/content: fluff, a little angst if you squint I guess? Bob and Bradley playing cupid. Jake's a commitment-phobe.
word count: 2.8k
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The stories about Jake Seresin’s Fourth of July parties were the thing of legends. At least, that’s what your childhood best friend, Bob Floyd told you. Growing up together in the quaint corners of Kentucky, your friendship persisted even after Bob enlisted in the Navy, bridging the geographical gaps that separated you. Upon encountering Jake, Bob wasted no time in regaling you with tales of the charismatic, albeit arrogant and cocky, pilot he had befriended—someone he cheekily deemed "perfectly your type." With a mischievous grin, Bob couldn't resist teasing you about your penchant for less-than-stellar romantic choices. However, as Bob grew closer to Jake, his jests evolved into genuine affection, a burgeoning belief that perhaps you and Jake were destined for each other. Your recent trip to San Diego had you attending Bradley Bradshaw's birthday bash at Bob's insistence, albeit with the conspicuous absence of Jake. Despite assurances from Jake himself that he wouldn't miss it, he was reportedly detained by a rigorous training exercise on base, but Bob hadn’t been buying it.
"Has Jake ever mentioned having a significant other, like, ever?" Bob quizzically posed one evening at the Hard Deck, the favored haunt for Navy personnel and their circles.
Bob's squadron pondered, their heads shaking in unison while exchanging contemplative glances. A few scanned the ceiling, delving into their memory banks to recall any fleeting encounters where Jake might have been accompanied by a woman for more than just a passing night.
"Bradley, Javy, you guys practically grew up with him. Have either of you ever seen him with a girl for longer than a one-night fling?" Bob chuckled, arching an inquisitive brow.
Bradley and Javy exchanged a silent glance, both shaking their heads softly. Bradley took a sip of his beer, placing the bottle down with a soft laugh, as if a distant recollection had suddenly surfaced.
"I take that back, I do remember this one girl. What was her name... Heather, Jessica, something like that. This was way back when I first met him, over a decade ago. Jake would've been, what, 21 tops? He was ready to tie the knot with her—or so we all thought. Then she decided she couldn't handle dating someone always on the go, and it broke poor Jake's heart. After that, he seemed to reckon he had something to prove, which might explain why he can be such an insufferable dick most of the time now."
Bob raised a knowing eyebrow, nodding thoughtfully. A smirk crept onto his face as he glanced around at his companions, then back at you.
"Jake's got cold feet when it comes to commitment. That's why he skipped out!” 
“Nothing gets past you, does it, Bobby?” Bradley grinned, shaking his head as he sipped his beer again.
“Look, I think we need to just bring you to his annual Fourth of July party. He’ll love you when he meets you. He’s just scared of the idea,” Bob nodded as he turned to you, grinning. 
“Guys, if Jake doesn’t want to meet me, it’s ok. I’m not offended. If he’s a commitment-phobe, I’m probably good just…not meeting the guy,” You shrugged as you sipped your cocktail, laughing softly. “Besides, Bobby, you’re the one who said he was perfectly my type because he’s an asshole. I mean, maybe I should change my type.”
“Nah, Jake’s not a bad guy,” Bradley shook his head quickly, an awkward chuckle escaping his lips. “He’s just not a smart guy, at least not when it comes to social settings. Trust me, he’ll be fine. We just won’t tell him you’re coming.”
A few nights later, you and Bob rolled up to Jake's party, the warm summer air buzzing with excitement. You sported a laid-back ensemble: denim shorts hugging your curves and a tie-dyed halter top in patriotic hues of red, blue, and white, exuding a festive vibe. Your sunglasses rested atop your head, adding a touch of effortless coolness to your look.
As you stepped into the backyard, the scene unfolded before you: Bradley and Jake engaged in their customary banter, beers in hand, the ambiance alive with their friendly squabble.
"I'm telling you, the Astros are taking it all this year," Jake asserted confidently.
Bradley scoffed, retorting, "And I'm telling you, they'll crash and burn like they always do, Bagman."
Bob chimed in with a chuckle, playfully interrupting their debate. Adjusting his glasses with a grin, he shot Bradley a teasing glance.
"Are we interrupting something here?" Bob quipped, his tone lighthearted as he ushered you forward.
Bradley's smile widened as he greeted you warmly, introducing you to Jake, who turned to you with a suave grin, his eyes sparkling with charm. 
As you laid eyes on Jake for the first time, a rush of sensations flooded through you. Standing tall with a commanding presence, his tanned skin glowed under the party lights, accentuating the golden hue of his tousled blonde hair. His bright sea-green eyes, vibrant and captivating, seemed to hold the entire universe within them, drawing you in with their magnetic gaze.
A charming grin played upon his lips, exuding confidence and warmth, while his strong southern accent, dripping with Texan pride, resonated through the air like a familiar melody. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in his rugged yet effortlessly handsome features, feeling a flutter of anticipation mingled with a hint of nervous excitement. In that moment, it was as if time stood still, and all you could do was offer a tentative smile in return, your emotions swirling in a whirlwind of curiosity and intrigue at the enigmatic man before you.
As you stood before him, captivated by his presence, Jake extended a hand with a confident smile. 
"Well, hi there," he drawled in his rich southern accent, his voice smooth as honey. 
"Lieutenant Commander Jake Seresin, US Naval Air Force." he said, his bright green eyes twinkling with charm, emphasizing his title as he shot Bradley a competitive smirk. You knew Bradley was a Lieutenant, and you knew from what Bob had told you that the Jake and Bradley bickered over Jake’s newly-appointed higher rank. 
"Pleasure to meet you," you replied, your voice betraying a hint of admiration for the accomplished officer standing before you.
With a nod of acknowledgment, Jake's grin widened, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of confidence and charm. "Likewise," he responded warmly, his grip on your hand lingering just a fraction longer than necessary, sending a jolt of excitement coursing through you.
His handshake was firm yet gentle, sending a tingle of electricity through your fingertips as you exchanged introductions. In that moment, his genuine warmth and charisma enveloped you, leaving you eager to uncover more about the man behind the captivating facade.
As the conversation flowed, you found yourself drawn further into Jake's magnetic presence, each moment spent in his company deepening your intrigue and desire to unravel the layers of the enigmatic man before you. Jake excused himself politely after a few minutes of lively conversation, and you watched on with a dreamy-eyed expression on your face as he slipped away into the party to converse with someone else. Out the corner of your eye, you noticed Bob and Bradley exchange knowing grins as they observed what was unfolding. 
The night carried on, and you headed into the house to find your way to the bathroom. Closing the sliding patio door behind you, your eyes scanned over the house, taking in the crisp, white walls adorned with different pieces of country-themed decor, as if Jake was trying to bring as much of Texas into his Californian home as he could. A simple cactus sat on the coffee table, a Stetson hanging on the wall, next to a vintage rodeo poster, framed and on display. The decor was somewhere between vintage Americana and a country bar, but it seemed so perfectly Jake. At least, from everything you’d been told about him, and from your five minute exchange with him earlier.
As you headed down the hallway to find the bathroom, passing by the entryway to the kitchen, you could hear muffled voices, deep in discussion. You paused for a moment as you recognized both voices. One was unmistakeably Bradley, his Virginian lilt echoing slightly out of the kitchen. The other, an equally deep and recognizable southern drawl, one you’d only just heard a short while ago, but equally ingrained in your mind. 
“Listen, Bradley, I’m sure she’s a great girl. Bob wouldn’t have brought her if she wasn’t. I’m just not interested,” Jake protested, and you felt your heart sink slightly as you heard the words that weren’t intended for you.
“Jake, it was 11 years ago, man. Don’t you ever think about what it’d be like to meet someone? Settle down? Have a kid?”
“No,” Jake replied stubbornly.
“Now you’re just being a jackass,” Bradley sighed, and you could just envision the disapproving glance and head shake that Jake was on the receiving end of right now, “You can’t just keep having drunk one night stands, dude. You’re gonna wake up one day and realize you basically pissed your whole life away. The Navy’s not gonna be there forever. One day you’re gonna have to retire.”
“And I’ll retire happily. On a ranch somewhere in Texas.”
“Alone.”
“I’ll buy a dog if you’re that fucking concerned about me being lonely, Bradshaw,” Jake spat back angrily.
“What if she’s not like what’s-her-face?”
“Chelsea. And it doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter. You’re pissing away a chance with a really nice girl because of what, your pride? Your ego? You’re afraid to get hurt? You’re gonna end up drunk and alone.”
“Beer never broke my heart. Women have.”
“Oh come off it, Bagman. You were 21. You’re how old now?”
“Thirty five.”
“Exactly. Almost fifteen years ago. Give yourself a chance to be happy.”
As you listened in on Jake and Bradley's conversation, hidden from view in the hallway, a sudden tickle in your nose sent an urgent signal. You pressed a finger beneath your nostrils, desperately attempting to stifle the impending sneeze. However, despite your valiant efforts, a soft, involuntary sound escaped into the air, betraying your presence to the two men engrossed in discussion.
The gentle echo of your sneeze disrupted the flow of their conversation, prompting both Jake and Bradley to turn their heads in unison, their brows furrowing in mild surprise. Caught off guard by your sudden interruption, they exchanged a quick glance before Jake's gaze settled on the source of the noise.
You stood frozen in the hallway, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you met Jake's curious stare. In that fleeting moment, you felt like an intruder, an eavesdropper stumbling upon a conversation meant to remain private. Yet, despite the awkwardness of the situation, a part of you couldn't help but wonder if this unexpected encounter might offer insight into Jake's guarded heart and the walls he had built to protect himself from the ghosts of past heartbreaks.
“Sorry, I uh, I was just looking for the bathroom,” you blushed, nodding your head quickly as you smoothed a hand over your hair.
“Down the hall, second door on the left,” Jake nodded once, remaining awkwardly guarded as he spoke. 
“Wait, wait, wait,” Bradley held his hand out, shaking his head, “I promised Bob I’d sort this out and I’m damn well gonna do it.”
As Bradley stepped forward, determination etched into his features, you couldn't help but feel a mix of curiosity and apprehension. His insistence on addressing the situation piqued your interest, but you also couldn't shake the unease of being caught in the middle of a potentially sensitive conversation.
Jake glanced at Bradley with a hint of skepticism, his guarded demeanor softening slightly as he awaited Bradley's next words.
"Look, Jake," Bradley began, his tone earnest yet firm, "I know you've been hesitant about getting involved. But trust me, she's not like anyone you've ever met before."
You blinked in surprise at Bradley's unexpected endorsement, feeling a rush of gratitude toward your friend for advocating on your behalf. Bradley gave you both a knowing look before nodding once again and heading out of the room to give you both time alone. Jake shifted awkwardly on his feet, avoiding your gaze.
Jake's expression softened, a flicker of vulnerability flashing in his eyes as he absorbed Bradley's words. After a moment of contemplative silence, he finally spoke, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
“I’m sorry,” Jake nodded slowly, looking up at the ceiling before glancing over at you. “Bob and Bradley have been so bent on getting us together. I guess I’m just hung up on some shit from fifteen years ago. An ex-girlfriend told me she didn’t want to live the whole military spouse life after I had an accident in training. I never got over it. Had a ring for her and everything. Was gonna have the whole 2.5 kids and a dog and a white picket fence thing going on. Then she decided she couldn’t be a military spouse, and I decided I couldn’t give up what I’d been working on achieving, so I let her leave.”
“You haven’t dated in fifteen years?”
Jake's lips curved into a rueful smile, tinged with a hint of self-deprecation.
“Not really, I mean, I’ve been with girls, but not seriously.” 
Your laughter rang out, tinged with discomfort as you shook your head in incredulity. "And here I thought my dating history was a train wreck," you confessed, a nervous chuckle punctuating your words. "Bob likes to rib me about it, but I have a knack for attracting men allergic to commitment, unless it's to Sunday night football and beers with the boys."
Jake's laughter echoed yours, a genuine warmth infusing his expression as he nodded in understanding. 
"Now it all makes sense," he remarked, a glint of realization illuminating his features. "Bob kept insisting you were my type, and I couldn't figure out how he knew."
You frowned in confusion. "I'm lost."
"I tend to gravitate toward women who epitomize everything I'm not," Jake explained, a note of introspection coloring his words. "The ones wanting marriage, stability—all the things I shy away from. It's why I've avoided serious relationships. I thrive on being the best, but in that arena, I’m like…a football team short of a quarterback."
“I mean, you could. You just have to want it.”
“Part of me does.”
“But?”
Jake lets out a heavy sigh, shaking his head remorsefully as he looks down. He leans his body against the counter, shrugging his shoulders before speaking.
“But, I’m 35. I guess I could retire from service if the right girl came along. I just…it’s all I know. I know I’m a good pilot, ya know? I don’t know how I am at this boyfriend shit. “
His eyes met yours, earnest and vulnerable, as he confessed, "I mean, sure, I wanna be the kind of man who can sweep a woman off her feet, who knows how to cherish her and make her feel like she's the center of the universe. But truth be told, I ain't got a clue how to do that. I'm afraid I'll crash and burn before I even get off the ground.”
Jake frowned at the can of beer in his hand, shaking his head with a hearty chuckle.
“I’ve had too many of these, I don’t normally share my life story. Not with pretty girls at least.”
“Well,” you responded, pulling up a bar stool beside him before resting your elbows on the counter, holding your head in your hands as you looked at him, “I’m listening.”
"You know," he mused with a wry chuckle, "I never thought I'd feel betrayed by a cold beer, but here I am, questioning my trust in beer of all things." He shook his head, a hint of amusement tugging at the corners of his lips. "Seems I've stumbled into uncharted territory here, darlin’.”
As Jake's laughter subsided, a lull settled over the conversation, punctuated only by the distant hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses in the background. You sensed a shift in the atmosphere, a moment bursting with unspoken thoughts and emotions.
"Maybe it's time to navigate these unfamiliar waters together," you suggested softly, breaking the silence with a tentative smile. 
"We can figure it out as we go, right?"
Jake's gaze softened, a flicker of gratitude shining in his eyes as he met your gaze. "I'd like that," he admitted, his voice tinged with sincerity.
 "It might be a bumpy ride, but, I reckon this time I might stand a chance of finding my bearings."
And in that moment, as the weight of his words hung in the air between you, you felt a spark of hope ignite within your heart—a flicker of possibility for something beautiful to bloom amidst the uncertainties of the journey ahead.
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