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#if you see these details in a fic later no you don’t!!!
t-tomuras · 6 months
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darling you made the mistake of mentioning atla au with taaro and now i come here DEMANDING (politely) for crumbs of the lore your new art is based on pls and thx 💋xoxo💋
AJISJF Kail you are so sweet to me this is mostly a BIIIG mess because I took me forever to iron out what I even wanted because Gyuutaro struck me as both a fire bender AND a water bender (for blood bending as well as for backstory’s sake but I wanted something ✨new✨for us hehe)
I rambled oop kiss ily < 3333
Under the cut because I am shy pft
So I chose being a ‘runaway’ princess of the water tribe, discarded because a prophet / fortune teller told me parents their next child would be blessed by the water spirit and they’d heard of it once before. Hair as white as snow for the babe but when I was born it was black; their disappointment evident so they continued to try and fulfill their prophecy until they had another child that had the stark white hair they figured their child would have and ultimately disregarded and ignored me because they had not only the foretold child but a son at that.
Despite how I was blessed by the ocean spirit and therefore a powerful bender in my own respect.
So I abandon my ‘home’ and opt to travel the world as conflicts are growing and the fire nations influence is being forced upon the great nations. Avoiding fire nation colonies and settlements for the most part before ultimately settling around the earth kingdoms city of Omashu.
Opening a little flower shop for myself and selling to lovebirds that want to visit the Cave of Two Lovers. A nice little quiet life for myself that I enjoy.
Before the peace is disturbed by the fire nations conquest. Meeting Gyuutaro after they’ve taken over the city and he’s coming to ‘shake down’ business owners calling it a tax. Working his way from the upper areas of the city downward until he reaches me. Coming in the middle of the night because he doesn’t care, plus aren’t you more likely to fork over what he wants when your sleep is disturbed?
And girl he shakes me down to fucking COPPER PIECES. Tipping my chin after he’s gotten all of his money with a mean spirited cackle and a once over of me and liking what he sees he adds a, “I’ll be back at the end of the month.”
Naturally tired of taking the shit that’s given to me I decide to take back. Practicing blood bending when the moon rises while I steal shit BACK from the firebenders, all of them reporting not being able to control their bodies for a a short period while I rob them blind. Making them ‘willingly’ give back all the money they stole to a figure cloaked in black wearing a mask with only a stark white crescent moon painted onto the forehead.
Catching Gyuutaros interest OBVIOUSLY and he goes out at night in the hopes of finding me. And for the selfship art I think I just have that centered as the random encounter at a festival the locals hold despite the fire nation making life less fun in the area
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jasontoddiefor · 1 year
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Yeah sure we’ve all binged a long fic, but have you ever read a WIP and followed someone’s life?
Tidbits of information - (“I graduated today!”) - and small joys (“It’s my birthday!”) and you get to be there to say “This chapter made me cry, happy birthday, thank you for gifting us this”.
I remember reading this fic of someone at the end of high school, older than me then. They seemed infinitely wise, spoke of their future career and getting into the college they wanted. I remember them posting on days they felt like nothing could bring them down - and on days the whole world did and it’s the aftermath of a hospital visit. Cancer, I think it was, their father. I got to the end of the story, I know their father was fine, but also they got to finish their WIP. I graduated three years later than them, still dutifully wrote thank you notes in every comment. I wonder if they remember me, or just the collective of people reading the story as it updates.
Four years ago I was into my first year of university, my first year of figuring out being out in public spaces. I made excuses as to why my name didn’t match my paperwork and read a fic on the train, the same five chapters over and over again for the next years as I thought the story abandoned. It updated this week after such a long hiatus, I left another thank you comment.
There’s an author I love, they update their stories like a clockwork. When they don’t, I check their blog, just to see if their doing alright, not because I feel like they owe me, just to ensure whether I better get out my laptop to write that really detailed university level essay chapter analysis to get them smiling when their day sucked.
And then, once, when I was 17, I read a fic that hadn’t updated in over a decade. I wasn’t even in primary school when it started posting. On the last chapter, I left a comment that, in retrospect, was horribly rambly and most likely full of grammar mistakes. The author replied and though I couldn’t see their face, I thought of them crying. They were married now, had children, and hadn’t thought about this fic in years. They went through their files again, found another half written chapter and an outline. I got two new chapters to read that year.
And then, recently, someone told me they got back into writing original fiction because of my comments. I get to read nearly weekly chapters.
I love binge reading a finished fic, but nothing is ever going to top the feeling of anticipation of waiting for a chapter, the pure joy when someone tells you I was done with this, but you made me think of it again, so this is for you.
Anyway, I think we should romanticize reading WIPs more, growing up alongside the authors writing the stories we love.
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Baby Daddy || Jacob Elordi x reader
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Summary: Jacob being a protective dad 😌
Warnings: fem!reader
Wc: 475
A/n: can we just agree that Jacob holding a small baby in his HUGE arms would be the cutest and hottest thing ever 😃😭 I need to see this irl. Posting a Coryo fic later today!!! Also really need to do a Jacob Elordi masterlist lol, will do later today!
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Emerging from the grocery store, you held bags in both hands while Jacob effortlessly juggled your one-year-old daughter in one arm and a bag of groceries in the other.
The California sun casts a warm glow as you make your way to the car, Jacob holding your precious daughter, Sydney, in his strong arms. His large frame makes her appear even tinier as he cradles her close.
As you approach the car, Jacob’s keen eyes spot a group of paparazzi in the distance. He instinctively shields Sydney’s face, a protective gesture you’ve both mastered in these public moments.
Jacob glances at you, concern in your eyes, “We should be fine, they’re far away anyways,” Jacob assures you as you unlock the car.
As Jacob secures Sydney in the car seat, you glance over at the paparazzi. Some of them notice Jacob’s protective actions and start snapping pictures even more eagerly.
You could feel their invasive gaze, but your focus remained on Sydney, shielding her from the intrusive lenses from the front seat of the car.
As Jacob buckled up your daughter, he could sense you were uncomfortable, glancing at the paparazzi from time to time. He knew how much it meant to you to keep Sydney’s upbringing away from cameras as much as possible.
“I’m going to go talk to them,” Jacob says as you look at him with surprise. “Are you sure?” You lightly bite your lip as he nods, “Yeah, I’ll be quick,” Is all he says before he shuts the door.
You watch as Jacob makes his way to the group of paparazzi. You couldn’t hear what was being said of course but they seemed understanding about what Jacob was saying to them.
Jacob approached the group with a calm but firm demeanour. “Hey guys, I’m not sure if you’re aware but Y/n and I want to keep our daughter away from the public eyes as much as possible. And I know this is your job but could you please make sure to blur out Sydney’s face in the photos you’ve taken?”
One of the paparazzi’s, seemingly more considerate than the rest, responded, “Sure thing, Jacob. I don’t think we managed to photograph your daughter’s face,” He and the others all take a look through the photo’s they’ve taken whilst showing Jacob.
“But if we find one, we’ll make sure her face is blurred. No problem.” The man says as Jacob nods. “I appreciate it. Have a good day guys.”
As Jacob walked back to the car, you exchanged a relieved glance. As he climbs into the car, you felt a mixture of gratitude and exhaustion from the constant vigilance required to protect your family’s privacy.
You intertwine your hands with Jacob’s, expressing your gratitude, “Thank you for handling that.” A grateful smile adorns your face as he grins, bringing your intertwined hands close to his face and gently kissing your hand.
“Of course, I don’t need to think twice about doing something like that to protect Sydney,” Jacob affirms. He adjusts the rearview mirror, stealing a glance at Sydney in her car seat. Her curious eyes are fixed on the window, captivated by the passing palm trees.
Later that day, you were sent a tweet from Jacob’s sister. It’s from one of the paparazzi who interacted with Jacob earlier. The post details the encounter and emphasises Jacob’s kindness in handling the situation.
The tweet read, “Just had a run-in with Jacob Elordi, and gotta say, he’s one of the nicest celebs I’ve encountered. Asked us to blur out his daughter’s face, and even though we’re paparazzi, he handled it with grace. Big respect for him!”
As you read through the comments, you couldn’t help but smile at the overwhelming support from Jacob’s fans. Messages of admiration for his commitment to Sydney’s privacy flooded the comment section.
yourusername
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Liked by jacobelordi, caileespaeny, hbo, zendaya, sydney_sweeney and 10,937,274 others
👶🍼💗💋🧸
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jacobelordi: love you both so much ❤️
↘️ yourusername: 💗
caileespaeny: aweee
sydney_sweeney: I need to see little Syd like rn 😭
↘️ yourusername: your godchild misses you!
↘️ user1: Is anyone just finding out now that Sydney Sweeney is the the god mother of Jacob Elordi and Y/n Y/l/n’s daughter 😃
↘️ user2: I mean, it kinda makes sense ngl. Y/n and Sydney are childhood besties and then she names her own kid after her best friend.
user3: sometimes I forget Jacob Elordi isn’t single and has a child
user4: those recent pictures of him holding Sydney is doing something to me 🙂
↘️ user5: RIGHT!
↘️ user6: oh for sure.
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verareids · 3 months
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feel the same - s.r. x bau!reader
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spencer misunderstands a conversation he overhears between reader and derek. tags/cws: misunderstandings, confessions of feelings, use of 'y/n', gn!reader, fluff, mild angst, derek morgan has big brother energy wc: 1708 (much longer than I thought lmao) a/n: I'm truly obsessed with season 1 spencer as of late so I HAD to write a fic with him in mind. <3
also posted on ao3
“You know Pretty Boy likes you, don’t you?”
Spencer had been trying to get some sleep on the flight back after working a case that had drained all his energy when the sound of Morgan’s voice caught his attention. Without opening his eyes, he knew exactly who he was talking to. Spencer had never outright admitted to anyone that he had developed feelings for you but it was getting harder to deny. Once Derek had started pointing out the way he’d look up when you entered a room or the way his eyes lingered as you walked away, he was becoming concerned that this crush was more obvious than he’d like it to be. 
He’s been trying to ignore it, telling himself it’s unprofessional when really it’s because he believes there’s no way you could possibly feel the same. There’s a myriad of reasons why he wished Derek would keep his big mouth shut but honestly – that was probably the biggest.
“Likes me? How old are we?” The smooth sound of your response makes Spencer smile to himself in spite of the current situation. 
“(Y/N), come on…” Derek chuckles and is immediately met with a long stretch of silence. Spencer can picture the death glare he knows he’d see on your face if he were to look at you in this moment. “Look, you know he’s never gonna ask you out himself so maybe you should just–”
“Derek.” You interrupt with an evident sternness in your tone. “I’m not having this conversation with you. I’ve told you, it’s not happening.” Ouch. Spencer had never allowed himself to dream that you would reciprocate his feelings but he definitely wishes he had been asleep for that one. With that, he forces his eyes shut tighter than before and takes in one deep, slightly shaky breath and decides to try to go back to sleep, if only so that he doesn’t have to hear you reject him even harder.
~
Spencer wakes up as the jet is landing and he quickly gathers all of his things, walking out and across the strip with much more urgency than usual. This detail doesn’t go unnoticed by you, not much does – especially where Spencer is concerned – and you make a mental note to check in with him later. He had caught your eye the first day you met him which must be, what? Half a year ago now? And he had been on your mind ever since. You had bonded quickly as friends, being the two youngest members on the team. About a month ago you had finally allowed yourself to acknowledge the fact that you had developed feelings for him. You’d sit next to him at any given opportunity, listen to his infamously long rants much longer than anyone else would, spend just a little too long staring at his lips as he talked you through his theories. It didn’t take long for people to notice. Elle had her suspicions, JJ made a comment every now and then, but Derek – he wouldn’t let it go. He teases you about it constantly. You haven’t given him the satisfaction of admitting it, you haven’t been able to deny it either.
When you eventually make your way into the building along with the rest of the team you notice that Spencer had already left. It’s only then you start to be concerned. It’s unlike him to leave in such a hurry, even more so to not even say goodbye. You rack your brain trying to come up for a reason for this strange behavior. Is he sick? Upset about something? Was it you? You begin to go over every interaction you’d had with him recently when you have to stop yourself before you spiral. He’s just tired. If it was serious he’d tell you… right?
~
The next morning you walk in to find Spencer at his desk working on the report he didn’t write last night before he had basically ran away.
“Morning, Spence!” You greet him, making an effort to sound cheerful as you lean on his desk. He doesn’t look up, like he’s trying extra hard to look busy.
“Morning, (Y/L/N).” He replies without looking up. His tone seems normal, his use of your last name is what sounds the alarms in your head.
“Hey… are you feeling alright?” You ask tentatively, not wanting to pry too much in case you really had done something wrong that you clearly weren’t aware of. “I noticed you kind of left in a hurry last night.” He finally looks up and meets your eyes, easing your nerves slightly. His eyes shift away and then back to yours before a soft smile graces his lips, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“I’m okay.” He responds after a while in a way that sounds like that’s not all he wants to say. You go to reassure him, make sure he knows he can tell you anything, but stop yourself when you notice the way he tenses when you place a hand on his shoulder. Retracting your hand quickly, you begin to fidget with your fingers before running them through your hair nervously.
“Spencer… I–” You start and stop and Spencer feels a little guilty as you seem to stumble over your words anxiously. “Is it me? Did I do something? Because if I did I–”.
“(Y/N).” Spencer cuts off your panicked rambling. You take a steadying breath as he slowly rises to stand in front of you, your eyes trailing up when he towers over you. He looks around the room and sighs before focusing back on you. “Can we go somewhere to talk?” You nod and begin walking towards a storage room with Spencer following close behind, quickly checking that there's no one in there before stepping inside.
“What’s going on with you?” You break the silence as Spencer closes the door behind him. “You know you can talk to me about anything.”
“I’m sorry if I’ve been acting weird.” You notice the way he dodges the question. He can’t meet your eyes anymore, his gaze shifts around the room and he smiles awkwardly at you.
“Spence, that’s not–” You interrupt yourself, trying to find a way to put your thoughts to words without overwhelming him. “I only want you to be okay. You’ve been acting differently since last night… If there’s something going on I want to be there for you.” When you say that he smiles sadly. He looks down in thought as if he’s considering something.
“I heard you talking to Morgan…” He mumbles, still staring at his feet – wringing his hands together. You furrow your brows in confusion. Talking to Morgan? “On the jet on the way home…”
“Oh.” This isn’t happening. You figure you should’ve known Derek’s relentless teasing would be your downfall. He must know you like him now. There’s a reason you never wanted him to know how you felt. You couldn’t stand the thought of anything ruining your friendship. Spencer visibly deflates even more in front of you at your lack of response. You begin scrambling to come up with a way to get out of this horrifically embarrassing situation.
“Look, I– I didn’t mean to make this awkward…” Oh god. The way he’s stuttering and tripping over his words. You stare blankly at him, then duck your head, bracing for the impact of his rejection. “It’s not like I thought you would feel the same way I just–” Wait what? Your head snaps back up to see his face, eyes widened, which seems to startle him a little. “I wasn’t going to say anything but I guess I just got really in my head about it.” He begins to look a little panicked. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, I’m sorry if I did.” You just keep staring up at him, mouth agape in disbelief. “(Y/N)?” He says your name with a sad desperation and it reminds you that you should respond.
“Sorry, I–” You say slowly while shaking your head. “Are you saying that – Do you like me?” Now it’s Spencer’s turn to look confused, but it was all starting to make sense to you. You had thought he was acting weird because he had found out about your feelings, when in reality, it was the other way around.
“Yes?” He replies hesitantly.
“I like you too.” You say simply with a shy smile but Spencer looks completely taken aback. 
“You do?” The way his eyes light up with a subtle excitement was adorable. Soon after, that look was replaced with skepticism. “But I thought— you told Morgan you didn’t like me.”
“I told Morgan to stop teasing me about you because I didn’t think this…” You gesture between the two of you. “Was ever going to happen.” Spencer let out a sigh of relief and smiled bashfully.
“You could have just told me.” You feel his eyes scanning your face as if he were still looking for proof that you weren’t messing with him.
“You didn’t tell me either.”
“I thought there was no way…” You make eye contact as he trails off in thought. “I guess it doesn’t matter now.” Spencer takes a tentative step closer to you but doesn’t move to touch you in any way, so you reach out to take his hands in yours, lacing your fingers together.
“Well… maybe if we don’t have to fly out for a case today, we could go to dinner tonight?” You’re staring down at your intertwined hands, squeezing once before looking back up. When you see his face he’s still looking down with a big dopey grin on his face and you can’t help but smile right back.
“Yes— definitely.” You giggle at his obvious enthusiasm. 
You both stay in the storage room for another couple minutes, mostly just staring starry eyed at each other. Eventually you both decide that you should get back to work. You try to hide whatever was now going between you as much as you can but like always, Derek Morgan figures you out within minutes and he, along with the rest of the team, teases you relentlessly. (You wouldn’t have it any other way.)
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can i request cregan stark modern au, with jaces younger or twin sister and maybe they like hide the relationship and its like fluffy and maybe smutty
Request: five times cregan and jace’s sister almost get caught and one time jace does find out about their relationship. I don’t think he would be too mad. He knows cregan is a good guy and would treat you well. 
I usually dislike body hair (personal preference) and beards, but Cregan has a short beard in this one (as he does in all of my fics for him) because I said so, and because he’s a Stark. I think it is mandatory and missing for his character — manifesting for a beard in season 3.  Also, this is 6.6k words...idk how that happened
p.s. You can find this fic on AO3 under the title Who are we to fight the alchemy
Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f receiving), mention of a fight and blood, short appearance of Larys Strong (he needs his own warning),
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When you started college and moved in with Jace, he had warned his teammates that his sister was off limits and that if he caught any of them looking at you, he would not be afraid to throw hands. He may be smaller than a lot of his teammates, but Jace was very protective of you. 
They were good guys, brothers to Jace, but he also knew their history with girls. He knew the dirty secrets; the dramas, who they had sex with, where, and details that he wished he could forget about. They were not boyfriend material — at all. 
You were not going to lie, Jace’s teammates were hot hockey players. It was tempting to turn your life into a cliché book trope and hook up with one of them, but you refrained from doing so. They were not worth being another name on their list. 
Until one of them changed your mind. 
It was a Tuesday night. You were in your room, reading on your bed while Jace had friends over playing video games. You could hear them shout at the TV and each other. After a few chapters, you wandered to the kitchen to get a cookie from the cookie jar, but found its content empty. 
‘’Jace,’’ you said under your breath. 
Living with your brother had a certain strange familiarity to it, a comforting echo of home despite the newness of being on your own. But some things hadn’t changed. Like how Jace never mentioned when he emptied something. Like that one time you wanted to make spaghetti, only to discover he had left an empty pasta box in the cupboard. Or when he used your shower towel because his was in the laundry. These moments made you miss your mom's presence — she’d always been there to keep the peace and enforce some order.
As you stared at the empty jar with frustration, one of Jace’s friends walked in behind you, his eyes immediately landing on the same spot. You could not see who it was, but his tall shadow was towering over you and you could smell a faint woodsy cologne. 
‘’If you’re looking for a cookie, Jace ate them all,’’ you said, throwing your brother under the bus.
‘’That was me, actually,’’ admitted a deep voice with a northern accent from behind you. You turned to see Cregan standing there, his expression sheepish. ‘’Jace said to get anything I wanted. Sorry.’’
You forced a smile, the irritation fading as your eyes met his gray ones. ‘’It’s fine. I’ll get something else.’’ 
Cregan watched as you moved to the freezer above the fridge to get the ice cream out. You opened the lid and saw that it was almost empty, so there was no need to put it in a bowl. 
‘’Did you make them?’’ he asked as you reached for a spoon in the cutlery drawer.
‘’I did,’’ you answered with a smile. 
‘’They were really good.’’ 
‘’Thank you. If Jace baked them himself, they would have turned out like hockey pucks: black and hard,’’ you joked.
Cregan offered a light chuckle as he stepped towards the counter, his gray eyes studying the details of your face. He hadn’t really looked at you until now, respecting Jace’s warning, but now he was struggling to look away and go back to the living room. 
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・° 
Two months later, you found yourself making out with the Wolves’ captain in his big jeep. His hair was damp and he smelled strongly of soap and deodorant, having showered twenty minutes ago after practice. 
The windows were beginning to fog as you were kissing, your hands all over Cregan's shoulders and chest. His tongue slipped into your mouth, causing you to grip his shirt when it grazed yours. You could drown in his kisses. 
Getting frustrated by the gear shift separating you, you attempt to climb over it and fumbled your way to the driver seat onto Cregan’s lap without breaking contact with his lips. You bumped your head and legs along the way, and let out a little curse. Cregan laughed, pulling back his seat as far as it would go so the steering wheel would not press in your back. 
From his new angle, you could feel the warmth of Cregan’s body against yours. It wasn’t as effective as cuddling in bed, but Jace would get home soon and Cregan’s small dorm bed was not made for two. He barely fitted himself. 
He slipped his large hands under your shirt, his thumbs inching up and up your sides, feeling your soft and warm skin while his mouth locked itself to your jaw. ‘’Your brother would kill me if he knew about us,'' he said as his mouth trailed down your neck, leaving wet kisses up to your collarbone.
You rolled your hips to meet his, the friction causing Cregan’s breath to stutter. His hands were still in your shirt, large and warm, leaving trails of fire over your back. He felt like he was sixteen and in high school all again, not twenty-one and in college. 
‘’Gods, you’re going to kill me if your hand keeps going rubbing against me like that.’’ 
You smirked and tipped your head back to give him more room. ‘’Jace is not the boss of my relationships. I can see whoever I please,’’ you replied, raking your hand through his hair and grazing the side of his short beard.
Cregan scoffed against your neck. ‘’Then what are we doing in my car instead of your bed?’’ 
He was only teasing, but it still made you sigh. You didn’t think living with Jace would put a wrench in your dating life. He meant well, but gods was it frustrating. 
Not waiting for your response, Cregan continued to shower your neck with kisses, his teeth nipping at the skin before his lips soothed it. You didn’t think kisses would make you feel like this, but this man had an effect on your body that you could not explain. You pulled at his hair when he bit at the sensitive flesh there, leaving a small mark you will have to conceal later. 
You wished you didn’t have to hide your relationship. You wished you could kiss him whenever you desired, go to his games and wear his jersey and cheer for him loudly when he scored a goal, cuddle with him on the couch without looking at the door every five minutes to check if Jace was coming home. 
Cregan pulled back suddenly, looking up at you with his gray eyes. ‘’I should go, Jace is gonna come home soon. Walking from campus to here takes less than thirty minutes,’’ he said in a hushed tone, his breath coming in short puffs. 
‘’Just a few minutes more,’’ you bargained, stealing a few kisses from his lips, not yet ready to part. ‘’I have a class at 8pm tomorrow and you leave for your away game Saturday morning. I won’t be seeing you until Sunday or Monday.’’ 
He let out a sigh, also dreading the moment he’ll leave you, and held you for a moment, his hands gently running up and down your back. You drinked in his scent and warmth, winding your arms around his neck and pressing your head in his neck. 
The moment was ruined as you shifted and accidentally hit the horn with your ass, the loud sound echoing  in the parking lot. 
Startled, you jumped and then burst into laughter, but Cregan didn’t join in. His expression was stone serious as he stared intently at something in the distance. Confused, you followed his gaze and spotted Jace standing by the doors of your apartment building, his gym bag slung over his shoulder. He was scanning the parking lot, clearly trying to figure out which car had honked, but with the lights off and the evening darkness, there was no way for him to tell which one it was.
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・° 
The second time you almost got caught together was before a hockey game. The team the Wolves were playing against was strong and Cregan texted you to come outside the locker room and give him a good luck kiss.  
You smiled at the text and sent a quick ‘coming’ to your boyfriend. ‘’I’m gonna get something to drink,’’ you told your friends. 
You snaked your way through the students and families waiting in the entrance to get to their seats and quickly made your way down to the locker room. You knew where it was from bringing over Jace’s skates last Saturday at practice. They were essential for getting on the ice, how could he forget them? 
Family, friends — and girlfriends — were not allowed in that area of the arena, so you kept an eye out for anyone from staff. You could always play the ‘I was looking for the bathroom’ card, but it would add another lie on top of the others you and Cregan were piling up since the beginning of your relationship. 
You found him leaning against the wall, waiting. He was in his compression pants and an old Wolves tee shirt, looking like a complete snack. You could see everything in those tight pants. And the way his hair was tied at the back made him look sexier. 
He looked up when he heard someone approach and a soft smile curled on his lips. ‘’There you are,’’ Cregan said, his voice low and gravelly as he stepped to you and pulled you to his chest. You fit against him perfectly, like a missing piece snapping into place. 
He leaned down and pulled you into a kiss, his hand cupping your face gently. It was supposed to just be a quick kiss — a quick ‘good luck’ smooch, not anything too serious. But the moment your mouth met his, you both got carried away. 
Cregan grabbed you with ease by your thigh, lifting you up, and you winded yours around his neck, almost forgetting that he had a game to play in twenty minutes.  
‘’Okay, that’s enough,’’ you decided, breaking the kiss. ‘’You’re gonna be late for pre-game talk.’’
Cregan sighed but gently lowered you back down. Your boots hit the floor, but he didn’t let you go without stealing one last kiss. You smiled into it, then stepped back just as Jace came barreling down the hallway, clearly in a rush.
He came to a stop, frowning when seeing you. ‘’What are you doing here?’’ His gaze shifted to Cregan, suspicion creeping into his voice. ‘’And why are you talking to my sister?’’
Cregan didn’t miss a beat. ‘’She was looking for you, actually,’’ he lied smoothly. ‘’Baela asked her to tell you she wouldn’t make it to the game tonight. She and Rhaena drove home for the weekend for their dad’s birthday.’’
You made a mental note to thank him later for the quick thinking. Baela had mentioned her trip, and Jace had been sulking and pouting ever since, upset that his girlfriend would miss a big game. 
Jace nodded, still catching his breath. ‘’Yeah, I know. She already told me.’’ 
‘’Oh?’’ you played along effortlessly. ‘’She must have forgotten that she already told you. She has a lot on her mind right now, you know.’’ 
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°  
Your breathy 'ah's and whimpers were bouncing off the walls as Cregan's strong hands gripped your thighs and held you in place while he lapped at your pussy like a starved man. The intensity of pleasure forced you to grip the headboard. The scruff of his beard was rubbing against your sensitive skin, chafing, but you kind of like it. 
It was your first time having the apartment to yourself for more than two hours, and you were going to make the most out of it. Jace was at a bar in the city with some guys from the team. He won't be back until at least 1am...or even later. 
When you heard about the night out at the bar, you texted your man and let him know so he could come over after Jace leaves. His teammates were disappointed that he was not joining, but Cregan told them to have fun for him. 
He’ll have his own fun with you in the sheets.
The moment he crossed the door, your mouth was on his and you were unbuttoning your shirt, eager to feel his hands on your tits. 
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, mewling at the way he was suckling on your clit. No one ever made you feel this good before. Not that you had a lot of experience to compare with.
His sweet assault on your pussy continued, the sounds you were making making him rock hard. He loved it — pleasing his girl. 
''I'm gonna— I'm gonna come soon,'' you whined, feeling your core tighten and rocking you body forward in the same rhythm, fucking yourself on Cregan's tongue.  
The hockey player let out a low grunt below you, encouraging you to use him how you wished. He let go of one of your thighs to run the back of his hand up your stomach and grab your breast the way you liked, his calloused thumb and finger capturing your peaked nipple, rubbing it as he flicked your clit again. 
Your orgasm hit and you made circular jerks of her hips, pushing down on Cregan’s tongue and chin, drenching both. His name fell from your lips and you continued on like this for a moment, toes curling and legs tensing. Until you had nothing else to give.
He pressed a last kiss to your sensitive clit, then helped you clamber off him. ‘’You remember when I said the cookies you made were really good?’’
You hummed, although confused where he was going with this. 
‘’This is better.’’ 
Your face flamed up at his words, not expecting such a vulgar thing to come out. ‘’Shut up.’’ You smacked his chest, his laugh rumbling under your palm. 
The sheepishness he sported in the kitchen that day had disappeared, revealing a dirty sense of humor you never expected from him.
You thought you would get a breather, a moment to catch your breath between your last orgasm and the next, but Cregan — insatiable — had other plans. He rolled onto his side, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and began kissing your body with a slow, deliberate intensity. His lips trailed all over your chest, down to your breasts, and then to your stomach, each touch igniting your desires all over again. You arched into his touch, the warmth of his mouth and the gentleness of his caresses melting away any resistance.
Under his tall and broad stature, Cregan Stark was a teddy bear. A Costco sized teddy bear. On the ice, he was known for his strength and leadership, but off it, he was all heart. He was kind, caring, and protective. His caresses were gentle, and his kisses tender and loving. It was impossible to not feel his love.
Speaking of feeling his love, you felt his hardness twitching and poking at your thigh through his tight boxers. You reached down to slip your hand inside, jerking him slowly. In response, Cregan squeezed your hip and let out a low groan.
‘’I need you,’’ you gasped, feeling him suck at the skin under your left breast. 
It was one of your rules: no leaving visible marks that could raise suspicions. 
He gave one last swipe of his tongue over your nipple and peeled off his boxers, his delicious cock springing up immediately. Your pussy was weeping at the sight. 
You spread your legs to accommodate him, offering yourself to him. He teased at your entrance, his movements deliberate as he bumped against your clit, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through you that made you whine. His amused chuckle filled the room, clearly tempted to draw out your anticipation even more, but as you shot him a warning glare, silently urging him to stop teasing. 
Cregan shushed you, rubbing your thigh, and just as he was about to breach your walls, you heard the door of the apartment open and Jace’s voice echoing. 
You froze, eyes widening in panic, and Cregan cursed under his breath, realizing that Jace was back much earlier than expected. ‘’Shit. That’s Jace.’’ 
He called your name again and you quickly slipped on a shirt and got out of bed, answering your brother's calls of your name. You couldn't risk him coming into your bedroom and catching his best friend in your bed in his birthday suit…with with a raging hard-on and your juices all over his beard.  
‘’You’re home early,’’ you pointed out, coming down the hallway. 
You studied him as he grabbed a bag of chips from the pantry, trying to guess his state of inebriety. He seemed barely tipsy. 
‘’Drama at the bar. Ben got into a fight with some guy over a girl — which he did not know was someone's girlfriend — and we all got kicked out,’’ Jace explained, rummaging through the bag of chips and taking a handful to pop into his mouth before leaning against the counter. 
You shook your head with a sigh. ‘’Typical Ben. He really needs to stop going after girls that are taken. Has he not learned his lesson?''
Your brother laughed, taking more chips. “Whose shirt is that?” he asked, his eyes narrowing as he glanced down at the large shirt you were wearing, then back up at you.
You followed his gaze and saw that you had grabbed Cregan’s tee shirt instead of your sleep shirt…
‘’Dad’s,’’ you blurted out quickly.
Jace frowned, not remembering your dad ever wearing that shirt, but let it go. ‘’What were you up to? I thought you would invite the girls over.''
‘’Eh, no. I...I was having fun by myself,'' you stammered, clenching your thighs and hoping your face was not too flushed. 
It wasn't entirely a lie, but it wasn’t true either. You were having fun, just not by yourself. 
His face twisted in disgust. ‘’Ew, that’s gross! I did not need to know about that.''
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°  
Unlike Ben, Cregan wasn’t the type to get into fights — especially on the ice. He thought it was stupid and pointless, a quick way to end up injured or benched for a few games. As the father figure of the team, he was usually the one stepping in to break up the scuffles, keeping cooler heads prevailing. But sometimes, no matter how careful you are, you get caught in the crossfire and take a punch that wasn’t meant for you.
You shot up from your seat immediately, your heart sinking to your stomach as Jason Lannister’s gloveless fist accidently connected to Cregan’s face. It was aimed at Ben — unsurprisingly —, who had played a foul, unnoticed by the referee, and got his brother Tyland in the penalty box.
Chaos erupted on the ice. The referees were shouting and blowing their whistle, trying to break up the fight. Seeing Ben implicated, Cregan had rushed over, taking it on himself to pull him back, but that's when Jason punched him. 
More players skated over, helping the referees. One grabbed Jason, and another went for Ben. He was lean but feisty, a scrappy fighter who never backed down. He shot a taunting grin at his opponent and spat blood on the ice, right at his feet. Jason tried to free himself, but the closest referee put his hand on his chest, shaking his head. Enough.
Cregan turned to Ben and wiped the blood off his nose, glaring at darkly.  
You didn’t see him until Sunday afternoon. You were coming back from the laundry room, arms full with a basket of freshly cleaned clothes, and forgot how to breathe when you saw Cregan sitting on the couch across from Jace. He was wearing gray sweatpants and a hoodie, and his pretty face was decorated with a bruise close to his nose. 
Your feet froze, unable to take another step. You wanted to fucking punch Jason Lannister.
‘’Hey, you’re back,’’ Jace noticed, turning his head towards you.
You nodded, trying to regain your composure. ‘’Yeah. I was doing laundry,’’ you explained, lifting the basket slightly as if to prove your point.
‘’Can you do mine next time? I’ll pay you ten dollars,’’ Jace offered with a grin.
You scoffed, shaking your head. What did he take you for, a housemaid? ‘’Ten dollars to wash your dirty underwear and smelly socks? Never.’’ 
‘’Fifteen,’’ he countered, still hopeful. ‘’My clothes smell better when you do it. It’s like when Mom used to do it.’’
‘’That’s because I use fabric softener,’’ you replied, rolling your eyes.
Jace frowned, clearly puzzled. ‘’What’s that?’’ 
Before you could explain it to him, his phone beeped with a notification. He paused the game and checked his screen. ‘’Food is here. I’ll go get it,’’ he said to Cregan.
The taller one nodded, waiting for Jace to be out the door to glance at you. Without saying anything, you set the basket of clothes down on the beanbag chair that had seen better days and went straight to Cregan, cupping his face gently. His eyes softened at your touch, seeing your look of concern. He reached up with one hand to lightly hold onto your wrist as you examined the bruise on his face.
Cregan gave you a soft smile. He could see that you were worried about him. ‘’I’m fine,’’ he said, yet you couldn’t help but notice a hint of stiffness in his expression. ‘’I’m fine. I promise.’’ He kissed the inside of your hand. 
‘’I’ll fetch you some ice.’’ 
He tried to protest, saying that it wasn’t necessary, but you were resolute. You hadn't been able to take care of him after the game, so you’ll do it now. 
You put some ice cubes that you used for your iced coffees in a plastic bag and brought it to the living room, gently pressing it to the bruise. ‘’Here.’’ 
Cregan winced at the cold, his face sensitive. ‘’Thanks, love.’’ He reached out and put a hand on your hip, tugging you closer, but retracted it as the door opened and Jace returned with the food. 
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・° 
During the course of your relationship, you found yourself in a lot of risky situations, but letting Cregan sleep over was playing with fire. 
You didn't mean to. It was an accident. 
The two of you were watching a movie in your bed while Jace was on a date with Baela, and he fell asleep forty minutes in. You should have woken him when your phone showed close to 11pm, but you didn't have the heart to. You locked your door, turned off your laptop and cuddled against him. 
When you woke up to pee at 1am, you saw that your brother was back and was asleep on the couch with his phone in his hand, the TV playing some older kids cartoons and his leg off the couch. Jace was a light sleeper, it would be too risky to sneak Cregan out.
Morning came and you woke up alone. A sad pout graced your lips. It was your first time spending the night together and you didn’t even get to have morning cuddles or hear his sleepy voice. 
You grabbed your phone, checking if he left any messages, but there was nothing. Just a text from your mom asking if you were coming home for your dad’s birthday this coming weekend. You rolled over, breathing in the sheets where Cregan slept in last night, and left her on read and got up. 
Your morning coffee was calling your name.
Running a hand through your hair, you walked down the hallway, looking forward to that first sip of coffee, and grinned when you found Cregan in the small kitchen, standing in his tight boxers and a tee shirt and drinking black coffee from a Disney mug. It looked Polly Pocket sized in his hands. 
You wrapped your arms around him from the back, your body flush against his. You pressed your face into his back, and the warmth of your body against his made his shoulders relax. 
He smiled to himself, covering your hands with his free one. ‘’Good morning,’’ he said in a groggy voice.
‘’I thought you had left. What of Jace? If my brother sees you in your underwear in his kitchen he’s gonna flip.’’ 
Cregan set his coffee down and turned, his gaze soft as his eyes met yours. The bruise on his face had significantly faded, barely there. ‘’He’s not here. I heard him leave.’’ 
His strong arms wrapped around your waist, drawing you close, and you let yourself relax against him. The warmth of his body seeped through his tee shirt, and you could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest. Cregan's hand slowly traced down your back, his fingers rubbing gentle circles at the base of your spine.  
‘’Don’t you have classes?’’ you asked, glancing up at him with a small smile.
He hummed softly. ‘’Not until later. My 10am class got canceled. I thought I’d hit the gym instead...but there’s no rush.’’
‘’I’ve gotta leave in one hour,’’ you sighed, wishing you could linger in this moment longer.
Cregan’s grip tightened slightly, as if to keep you close for as long as he could. ‘’I can drop you off,’’ he offered. ‘’That way we’ll have more time together.’’
You nodded, pressing a kiss over Cregan’s sternum in thanks. ‘’I’ll make us breakfast...in five minutes.’’ 
To ruin the moment, you heard the loud buzz and a voice coming from the intercom. 
‘’Are you up? Please be awake. I tried texting you and calling but you didn’t respond so I’m taking a chance here.’’ Jace called your name again, louder. 
You groaned in annoyance and went to the door to press the intercom button. ‘’What do you want?’’ 
‘’Yes! You’re awake! Eh, I left my laptop on the counter, and I also forgot my keys...’’
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・° 
When Jace left for college, your parents didn’t see the use of getting a car when everything was close to campus and within walking distance. What they didn’t think through would be the possibility of the bus riding home being full and not being able to make it for your dad’s birthday. 
Jace: Pack your bag. We’re leaving at 4pm. I already told Mom
You: You found us bus tickets? 
Jace: No. I found a ✨chauffeur✨
You: Please tell me it’s not some random person you found on a co-driving forum. I don’t want to spend two hours in some creep’s car 💀
Jace: He’s not
You should have known it would be him. 
Jace called shotgun, forcing you to take the backseat. You didn’t mind. In fact, you preferred it. If you had sat at the front, you were scared your hand would have slipped and revealed your relationship. Or that Jace would have noticed the familiarity between you. You were supposed to be his best friend’s little sister, not someone he knew like the palm of his hand.
Although it was only two hours, the drive felt never-ending. Your back ached from sitting in class all day and your stomach was impatient to be filled with your mother’s cooking. Every now and then, Cregan would sneak glances at you through the rearview mirror, and each time you couldn’t hide your smile. Your brother didn’t see, too busy on his phone or switching the music. 
This weekend was looking to be long and difficult. 
Your mom was more than happy to have another guest over. Cregan was as polite and charming, easily winning her heart when he complimented her infamous lasagna and asked for a second serving. 
''Of course! Help yourself,'' Rhaenyra said, smiling warmly. She glanced between Cregan and Jace, who both emptied their plates quickly. ''It's like they don't feed you at college.'' 
''I live in a dorm,'' Cregan explained in defense. ''It's hard to cook when the only appliances allowed are a mini fridge and a coffee pot.''
Your mother turned to Jace with raised eyebrows, clearly waiting for his excuse. ''And you? What do you have to say for yourself?'' 
Jace grinned sheepishly, swallowing his last bite. ''Can I take the leftover back to college?'' 
At the head of the table, your father let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head.  
When you were seven, you used to sneak out of your bedroom at night to eat a bowl of cereal. It took your parents several months to figure it out. At eighteen, you were sneaking to join your boyfriend in the guest room. 
You waited for everyone to be fast asleep, and avoided the creaking floorboards in the hallway. It was dark inside as you closed and locked the door behind, but you made it to the bed without stubbing your toe on any furniture. 
Cregan stirred when you pulled the covers and slipped in, feeling your cold feet on his calves. ''What are you doing?'' he asked, half-asleep and eyes still closed. He didn't need to see you to know it was you. He simply knew. 
You said nothing and cuddled against him, sighing happily when he reciprocated. 
Morning came faster, the early rays of sun peeking through the curtains. You cursed at yourself, having once again slept longer than planned. You checked both sides of the hallway, and once you deemed it safe, you exited. What you didn’t see was Luke leaving the bathroom, his hair unruly and barely awake. 
‘’I…’’ you stammered, not knowing what to say. 
He was fifteen, you could not trick him like Joffrey. He knew what you were doing in the guest bedroom. 
So you bolted to your own, praying he would keep his tongue.
‘’Luke knows,’’ you blurted out as you descended the stairs for breakfast, the weight of the confession lingering in the air.
Downstairs, your mother had gone all out, setting up a massive brunch spread — eggs, bacon, hashbrowns, and even pancakes. Grandfather Lyonel would be coming over...along with your uncle Larys. The thought of him made your stomach twist; you had never been at ease in his presence, but he was your father’s half-brother, and that meant you had to force a smile and be nice. 
Cregan furrowed his brows, concern creeping across his face. ''How?''
You quickly recounted the incident, watching as Cregan ran a hand through his dark hair, his expression growing tense. ‘’You think he’s gonna tell Jace?'' he asked, his voice dropping. ''Or worse...your dad? We got along well last night, but when he’ll find out—’’
‘’My dad is not the one we need to worry about,'' you interrupted softly, trying to ease his anxiety. ''Sure, he’s protective of us, and he might look like the kind of guy who could knock someone out with one punch, but he’d never do that to someone I care about. Not unless he had a damn good reason.''
As you reached the bottom of the stairs, Joffrey got down from his chair and dashed over to you, his small face lighting up with excitement. ‘’Mommy made pancakes!’’ he announced, his big brown eyes practically glowing. ‘’There’s blueberry ones, your favorites.’’ He grabbed both your hand and Cregan's, tugging insistently, messing up your plan to arrive separately.
At the table, Luke was talking — bragging — to grandfather Lyonel about school while Jace was helping your mom bring all the food to the table. And of course, Uncle Larys was just sitting there, observing everything with his usual quiet, unsettling presence.
At Joffrey’s urging, Cregan took a seat next to him. The little one had taken a strong liking to the hockey player, and you couldn’t help but hope that this budding friendship might work in your favor when it would all blow up. 
‘’Careful, it's hot!'' Rhaenyra called out, entering with a plate full of bacon. ''Jace, can you bring the orange juice? Oh, and a small fork for Joffrey?'' 
You interrupted Luke and made your way to Grandfather Lyonel, wrapping him in a warm hug like you always did. ‘’Where’s Dad?’’ you asked, noticing his absence.
The burly man looked around for his son, not knowing either. 
‘’I'm here, I'm here,'' Harwin’s familiar voice rang out from the sliding door as he entered, carrying a bowl of freshly picked strawberries. On top of his head was a handmade birthday crown, obviously crafted by Joffrey. ‘’Your mother forgot the strawberries. I had to fetch some from the garden.'' 
You grinned, stepping up to greet him. ‘’Happy birthday, Dad,’’ you said, kissing his cheek as you wrapped him in a hug. 
Everyone sat around the table, and began filling their plates with food. 
You mostly took blueberry pancakes, and some fruits from the garden. You had a sweet tooth this morning. From the corner of your eyes, you could see Joffrey talking a mile a minute between bites of pancakes and bacon. Cregan was trying his best to listen to your little brother — what he could make out of his words, anyway — but his attention was completely focused on you.
Two seats down from you, Luke was watching. You could feel his gaze on Cregan, and there was an unsettling tension beneath the surface. He knew something. He could let it slip at any moment and throw the whole breakfast into chaos. But, for now, he stayed silent.
‘’So,’’ Grandfather Lyonel began casually as he sipped his coffee, ‘’how's your first year of college treating you? Found yourself a boyfriend yet?''
The word 'boyfriend' had your bite of pancakes catching in your throat. Grabbing your coffee, you took a long gulp to wash it down, buying yourself a moment.
You shook your head, managing a calm smile. ‘’Not really. I’m keeping my focus on my academics,’’ you replied, briefly raising your eyes at Cregan, who was focussing on eating the content in his plate. The last time he had a home-made breakfast was with you. 
You thought you were being discreet, but your grandfather noticed the short glance, as did your father who was right next to you. 
Joffrey, oblivious to the tension, piped up, ‘’Jace has a girlfriend. Her name is Bella.’’
‘’Baela,’’ Jace corrected with a fond smile, shaking his head at the enthusiastic six-year-old.
Grandfather Lyonel smiled, happy for his grandson. ‘’That’s a lovely name.’’ He then turned to Cregan. ‘’And you, Cregan? Got a girlfriend? A handsome, well-mannered lad like you cannot be single.’’ 
Before he could answer, Joffrey piped up with the bluntness only a child could muster. ‘’I think you should date my sister,’’ he declared.  
Jace’s head shot up, eyes wide. 
Before him, Cregan chuckled uncomfortably, clutching his fork. ‘’Why is that, little one?’’
‘’Because you look at her like papa looks at mommy.’’ He said it so pure and innocently, yet it was true. 
The silence that followed was so loud it didn’t take long for Jace to connect the dots. The truth hung in the air, undeniable and clear. Cregan shifted awkwardly in his seat, and you felt your heart pound in your chest.
Jace glanced between you and the one he called his best friend. His nostrils were flared, shock and outrage painted across his face.  ‘’How long has this been going on?’’ His brown eyes glared daggers at Cregan, waiting for an answer. ‘’How long have you been keeping this from me?’’
‘’Jace,’’ your father’s voice cut through the tension, firm but gentle, an attempt to stop the situation from spiraling any further.
But Jace wasn’t listening, angry at his friend’s betrayal. ‘’How can you betray me like that? I would have expected it from Robb or Theon, not from you. You pride yourself to be loyal and honorable, but where is your loyalty in this? Where is the honor in disregarding my one and only rule?’’  
He was allowed to be upset that you and Cregan spent the last two months seeing each other behind his back. It’s a reaction that was expected. But you hated that he was painting his best friend as the villain. Cregan never used you, it was never his intention. He knew what he was risking when he kissed you back that rainy afternoon in his car. Yet, he couldn’t ignore his feelings — and neither could you. 
‘’How can you make this all about you?’’ you asked, shaking your head in disbelief. ‘’Can’t you see past your own selfish feelings that maybe Cregan does love me for me and not just to piss you off? This is exactly why we didn’t tell you anything.’’ You gestured around the room.
Cregan, who had remained silent until now, took a deep breath before speaking, his voice calm but firm. ‘’You know I don’t play around with girls. I would never use your sister the way you think I am. Come on, Jace. You know me.’’ There was a pause, allowing Jace to absorb his words, then he continued. ‘’I’m truly sorry for keeping this from you, but can you blame me? Put yourself in our shoes. You think I wanted to sneak around and lie to everyone about the girl I love? It might look cool in movies, but it’s not in real life. It’s just stress and pain.’’  
The room was so quiet you could almost hear a pin drop. No one dared speaking around the table. It was only silent glances. 
What a way to ruin your father’s birthday…
A few hours later, you found yourself sitting outside, your heart heavy. The house had grown quiet after the earlier commotion, the celebratory mood from the family gathering long gone. Grandfather Lyonel and uncle Larys had left. The former had apologized for starting the conflict, but you told him it was not his fault. It was bound to happen anyway. 
You apologized to your father — and mother — for ruining his birthday. It was his turn to shake his head and pull you in his arms. 
The air had gotten colder as it neared sundown, but you didn’t want to go inside. You liked the soft stillness of the open air. It was a calming contrast to the fight from this morning.
The drive back to college was going to be tense tomorrow. You already dreaded it. 
Unbeknownst to you, Jace was watching you through the glass of the sliding doors. He stood there for a moment, observing you and Cregan sitting quietly together on the patio furniture. Your head was leaned on his shoulder, curled up at his side, and his left arm wrapped around you. He recognized the Wolves hoodie on your back, Cregan’s number and name on it. 
It wasn't until he saw Cregan kiss the top of your head and the soft smile that instantly bloomed on your face that Jace realized that maybe Cregan was good for you.
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allophonicmess · 2 months
Text
Too Sweet
Logan Howlett x fem!Reader
Act 1
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Remember that inspo I posed the other day? I coudn't let it go and decided to write a three part fic based on it.
Warnings: spoilers for Deadpool& Wolverine, descriptions of a panic attack, angst, implicaded age gap
word count 2k
No beta and English isn't my first language
there will be fluff later on but sadness first:
Too Sweet
Logan felt a great mix of emotions since he had followed that red-ass clown Wade into this universe. Most of it was anger, confusion, rage… But In that moment as he was sat on the black beat-up couch among Wade’s friends… He was overwhelmed.
Not by sensory overload, although that casserole that blind Al had made did stink up the place with garlic-
He was overwhelmed by the feeling of happiness, joy and companionship of the people around him. He hadn’t felt that way in ages if he ever did at all. He never felt that way with his team before everything happened.
He liked them, sure. But this company of weirdos shared a Kinmenship he never got to experience.
“Hey, Peanut! Are you angrily staring off into space to allow for good exposition?” Wade had plopped down on the couch right next to him. His jeans-clad thigh rubbed right up to his. At this point, Logan had given up on trying to keep him out of his personal space.
The older man frowned and stared at Wade next to him. His beer was getting warm but he didn’t feel like giving up his spot on the couch.
“The fuck are you talking about?” He huffed, taking another sip of his beer. But Wade just clicked his tongue, scooting even closer to Wolverine.
“Aww, you know what I mean! You are big and gruff and don’t talk that much… It’s kinda hard to capture you in writing you know. There are only so many words in the English language to describe your grunting and-“
“Are you done?” Logan sighed, finishing his drink. He was starting to regret coming with Wade. Getting drunk in some shit hole of a bar sounded better than listening to Wade's babbling.
“See! That’s what I mean. Sigh is nice, sure but it doesn’t quite capture the nature of those beautiful noses you make, big boy.” Wade petted Logan's thigh, which the older man quickly pulled away as he stood up abruptly.
“Jesus fucking- Can’t you annoy someone else? You got all of these muppets to talk to. Stop bothering me god damn it.” Logan placed the empty bottle down on the couch table. He scanned the room, looking for someone else that Wade could annoy to death. His eyes landed on the brunette… Vanessa… He knew that something had been going on between Wade and her. He never told him the details but from the pining look Wade gave her and the sad as fuck sighs he made, it was clear that the motherfucker wasn’t over her.
“Go and talk to the girl for god's sake. She might be the only one here to appreciate it.” He grinned at Wade, enjoying how his stupid grin faltered even for just a second. He leaned down on Wade's level, whispering to him in an overly joyous manner. “It might even get you laid.”
They stared at each other for a hot minute. Both men tying to provoke the other into action. But Logan was getting bored so he pushed “I might try if you don’t have the balls-“
“Fine!” It came out way too loud. Wade got up quickly trying to keep up his jolly attitude. “Fine, I will. But not because you said so.”
“Or threatened you.”
“You didn’t threaten me.”
“Sure, if you need to believe that” Logan got back onto the couch, now stretching out lazily across it. He closed his eyes, pretending to snooze.
There was no witty comeback, which surprised Logan. But it only came to show that Wade was serious for once.
Logan would never tell but he warmed up to Deadpool. He respected the man, despite his annoying and borderline brain-rotting bad humour. But he had principles. He cared for those around him, loved them dearly and would do anything to protect them. He did in fact. Logan spread out on his worn leather sofa is proof of it. He hated to admit it but Wade was the better man of the two. He didn’t let those he loves down, running away like the drunk asshole Logan is. Wade would have come to help her, would have-
The obnoxiously loud ringing of Wade’s apartment doorbell ripped Logan out of his self-deprecating talk. He blinked against the bright ceiling light and watched as Wade sighed softly. He had just started his conversation with Vanessa and it seemed to be quite a good talk from the looks of it. He seemed frustrated to be ripped away from it. Wade nodded softly, towards Vanessa, excusing himself but he was stopped by Colossus.
“No please Wade, I get it. You seem to be engaged in an interesting conversation.” The 7’5’’ metal man said, touching Wade by the shoulder to turn him back towards to woman. Logan huffed, he wasn’t the only one trying to get Wade laid.
The giant stomped towards the door, turning the doorknob that looked comically small in his silver hand to let the latecomer in.
“Hi! I’m so sorry for being late. I still had to finish some work. It’s the end of the semester, you know how it is.” A sweet voice called from outside.
Then two things happened at the same time. It was like a push and pull.
Ellie, Yukio, even that odd taxi driver… they all turned towards the door in excitement. Smiling and wooing at the woman that just entered the apartment with a cake carrier tucked under her arms.
Logan on the other hand? He felt like he couldn’t breathe. He sat there, staring as Colossus pulled her into a big hug, lifting her off the ground before taking the container off her hands to allow the others to greet her. She was smiling, laughing at some joke Ellie had cracked at her.
She looked younger. Maybe she was, who knows how time worked in this universe. Or it was the lack of stress she had to face, no heartbreak, no constant rejection from a bastard that couldn’t see that the best thing was right in front of him.
“Ah, there you are! We were starting to miss you!” Wade pulled her into a tight hug. He seemed to be content. And the older man cursed himself for even caring about it.
She hadn’t noticed him yet, or so he hoped. Maybe she didn’t know him. It would be for the best.
“Yeah, I already told Piotr, I had to finish some lesson planning at the academy before the school year is over.” She replied as she greeted Vanessa and the rest of the group.
“Oh right. You are the only one that actually knows what she’s doing at that school.” Wade joked, earning a playful remark from Colossus.
So she also studied at a human university before starting at the school, Logan noted. He was still stuck on the couch, feeling unable to move as he kept staring at her.
“You know her?” The sudden comment coming from right next to him made Logan flinch.
“Whoa, relax man. I just noticed you staring at her for like 5 min straight. And you don’t seem too happy about her being here.” Ellie stood next to him, casually watching the scene just as he did.
“None of your fucking business.” Logan managed to spit out. While he did get startled, the interruption helped him to finally feel able to move again. And it happened just at the right moment. He needed to get the fuck out of there.
Ellie just huffed, watching Logan get up on shaky legs. It could just be from the constant level of alcohol in Logan’s blood, making his knees weak, or the age. But she suspected that there was more.
Yet Logan’s attempt at a quiet escape was hindered by Piotr, calling him to come to the kitchen to introduce the two.
“Come to kitchen! I want you to meet my good friend Y/N. She also works at the school. You will like her”, the man sounds proud. He should be.
Logan ignored him, pushing his way through the small crowd with shaky steps. Why was he sweating for god's sake?
“Logan!”
“No” He called, breathing was getting harder again.
“Logan!”
“I’m good! I’m-“ He finally reached the door, rattling the doorknob and cursing that his fucking fingers got shaky. Everything was too loud and too hot and too-
“Wade, it’s fine. He doesn’t have to.“ She tried to stop the two men next to her from calling the man over. He was clearly in distress and it hurt her to watch him fumble on his way out. There were only so many people that were scared of her outside the battlefield.
She had met “their” Logan, but only briefly at some anniversary event. They had simply mismatched their time at the school. He left shortly after Y/N started working and they hadn’t met much. She wondered what the other her must have done to him to cause such a reaction.
Finally. Fucking finally. The door opened and Logan simply burst into the hallway, rushing down the steps to feel the air rush back into his lungs. A fucking embarrassment. That is what he was. The Wolverine scared shitless by a woman that doesn’t even know him.
But the other one did and it killed her.
“Logan, what in the ever-loving- fuck was that?” Wade had run after him. He just couldn’t leave it alone, could he?
“Fuck off.” Logan breathed weakly. He felt tears prickling in his eyes and it made him hate himself just a little bit more.
“You just running off? Scared of a girl?” Wade kept pushing, following Logan as he walked down the familiar street towards his bar of choice. That being the cheapest and quietest he could find in the city.
“Scared you can’t get one off? I don’t wanna make predictions but man, I think she is into the dark brooding type” he kept pushing “ Or you know what? If I can’t get Vanessa laid I might try with her, I mean she is quite-“
That made Logan snap. Turning around and impaling Wade against the closest wall. Both sets of claws out and push into the other man's torso. He only groaned in return.
“Don’t you fucking dare! Don’t you fucking-“
“Okay, okay, whoa ow… man-“ Wade coughed, lifting his hands in surrender. “ I was only joking man. Unfair. Fuck. I am unarmed-urgh”
Logan retracted the claws letting Wade drop to the floor. He knew the man was joking, he should. But it was all too fucking much too soon. He wouldn’t let it happen again. And how to best prevent the inevitable heartbreak? Don’t even let her get close, to begin with. She didn’t deserve it. She never did in the first place and he would do anything in his power to stop it from happening to her.
“So, you are just leaving me hanging? It’s your party too, you know.” Wade got up, inspecting the bloody holes that stained his new shirt. He cursed softy.  “Damn, it was brand new. Ruining a perfectly good shirt for the exposition”
“Don’t wait for me,” Logan said, turning away from Deadpool. A cheap bottle of whisky was waiting for him to calm his nerves and forget about that fucking stunt. He won’t see her again, not even talk to her or talk about her. It’s for the best. She would agree if she knew,  Logan was sure of it.
New requets for being added to the list via comments on the Masterlist post, please. That helps me to keep things organized :)
Do comment here for feedback and spreading some love ❤️
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k-hotchoisan · 2 months
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missing piece
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<seonghwa x fem!Reader>
Building legos is important business and Seonghwa knows that very well when he realises he’s missing a piece.
So who would’ve thought two people attempting to search for one Lego piece would lead to other things?
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genres/warnings: smut, pwp, softdom!seonghwa, missing Lego piece (don’t worry it’ll get found later), dirty talk, it’s legit teeth rotting fluff and smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, established relationship, mild choking, clit stimulation
a/n: another fic exchange with @bro-atz 😎👊🏻 it’s a competition of who can kill each other faster and we both LOSING. love u bro <3 and also finally serving you all the softdom! Seonghwa you all deserve 😛 enjoy my loves 🩷
read bro’s one here 💘
wc: 1.9K
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‘A couple activity idea’—apparently the amount of countless generic couple websites would list this idea. 
Yeah, this would qualify for a couple activity idea casually, not when it seemed like a big business deal when it came to Park Seonghwa. 
Seonghwa had the ambiance set, his station ready—the Animal Crossing Soundtrack Playlist with Rain playing through the speakers, his desk clean and white—only stacked with the Animal Crossing Lego sets prepared to to be unboxed, in his favourite oversized shirt, and not forgetting you, who he dragged into his room to watch him build his little building block empire—comfortably seated across him on his bed. 
You didn’t mind watching your partner build the latest Animal Crossing Lego set he just easily blew a couple of hundred on hours before. You watched his inner child take form when he made you sit down with him to watch him unbox the first set he was gonna build, his eyes large and twinkling, just like his Animal Crossing character in-game.
Seonghwa hums softly, and it’s definitely his favourite soundtrack from the game. From time to time, Seonghwa would make the little critter noises his animal villagers would make while he fixes the animal villagers and you can’t help but giggle whenever he does the impressions. He’s finished a cherry tree, making sure he flailed his wrists to get your attention. Your lips pull to a smile when your eyes land on the pretty cherry tree he built, reflecting his satisfaction with his plump lips too. 
Then he’s back to his workstation, and you’re absorbed back into playing your switch. 
“This set is pretty easy”, you hear him comment. 
“Is it?” You reply, your attention focused on trying to slay the beast. 
“Yeah. I think I could finish this in another half an hour.” He sounds confident. 
“Good luck with that sweetheart”, you respond, your eyes trailing back to your game. 
Then midway through, Seonghwa demands your attention again, and this time you watch the way his eyes light up the whole damn room when he shows you the way the little Lego letter fits into its little Lego mailbox. Not gonna lie, it was a very adorable detail. He yaps about it for a good seven minutes before he sinks back into his building block world. 
“Now here’s the million dollar question—pink or brown for the door?” He asks, loosely fitting both coloured doors after one another 
“Pink, obviously”, you pick. Seonghwa seems satisfied with your answer, and you swear you see the little musical notes float out of him when he fixes the door onto the house. 
A couple more minutes later, you glance over at the messy pieces of Lego strewn all over Seonghwa’s table, below his half-completed Animal Crossing cottage. 
He has his cheeks puffed out, and his eyebrows knitted together while he’s carefully scanning over the table. 
“Are you missing a piece?” You ask, setting your console on the bed. 
“Yeah, I think I am”, Seonghwa mutters, his index finger pointing over each piece on the table, in hopes of finding it. 
You take the instruction booklet from his hands, skimming through the pictures before you settle it down onto the desk, your eyes laser-focused onto the mess too. 
“Do you wanna come over to my side instead? Maybe you can spot it better from this view”, you suggest, which Seonghwa takes, so he shuffles over to the bed, and moves to sit right where you are—and now you’re on his lap, with his chest pressing right against your back as he towers over you, arms hugging you from behind. He continues to search for the missing Lego piece. 
You take part in the search too, the game completely forgotten by then. You realise it’s nice just having Seonghwa sitting close to you like this. Maybe this was what they meant by building Lego as “a couple activity”.
“Did you drop it or something?” You ask, shifting slightly to have a better view of the floor. You hear Seonghwa grunt behind you, but you pay no attention, focusing on finding the piece. 
Seonghwa swears he’s focused on looking for the missing piece too—he really wants to complete the set, but at the same time, he’s watching and feeling you move against him on top of the way he’s able to wrap his arms around you easily, smelling his scent on you—it’s not helping his case. He bites his bottom lip, trying to manage himself. 
Obviously, it does nothing, considering he’s having you in such close proximity, and every movement you’re brushing against him is starting to make him grow sensitive. 
His hand snakes down to your thighs, drawing circles, his other hand sifting through the endless pieces of Lego. 
He forces himself to concentrate, and it works for a split second, that is, until you absentmindedly shift his free arm on under your loose shirt, and he snaps. 
“If this is your way of breaking my concentration, you’re doing a good job”, you hear his deep voice ringing in your ears. He’s letting his hands roam all over your body hidden underneath your shirt, his fingers grazing against your nipples teasingly, and it draws gasps out of you. 
“Focus on finding the block, Park Seonghwa”, you tease, readjusting yourself, making sure you press against his growing erection underneath his loose shorts. 
It’s Seonghwa’s turn to draw a shaky breath every time your clothed ass comes into contact with his erection.
You pretend to ignore him, but you can’t ignore the way he’s massaging your tits, and you find yourself sighing and growing hotter through each passing moment. 
You think he’s finally giving you a break, but you’re proven wrong when his hands are sliding down the waistband of your shorts. 
“You’re not finding the block, Angel”, Seonghwa points out, and you pout at his words. Your hand slips under the large opening of his shorts and fuck—his erection is only growing thicker. 
You hear him groan behind you when you let your hands wander to stroke his cock through his underwear. So he retaliates with his finger sliding past your panties, cursing when he realises your pussy is growing wetter by the second.  
“We’re supposed to be looking for the Lego piece, Hwa”, you mutter, mind growing hazy as his fingers get drenched from your slick, circling your clit gently. 
“Mmhm. We are, baby. You’re just not focusing”, Seonghwa replies, his index and middle finger spreading your folds open letting his index finger find your clit more easily, and it’s driving you fucking crazy. 
Your legs push open automatically, your hands pausing stroking him off, well, not that Seonghwa minded. 
“That feels so good”, you sigh. Seonghwa’s other hand cups your jaw, and you turn to face him, feeling the way his hands slide down your throat while Seonghwa has your lips on his, eating up your whines and moans before letting you catch your breath.
“So fuckin wet for me, Angel. You like it that much?” He teases. 
“Mmhm, your fingers feel so good Hwa”, you nod, your grip around his arm tightening as the pleasure builds in your stomach every time his finger strokes against your clit. At this point, you can’t even pretend.  
His lips are pressed against your ear, his voice deep yet you sense traces of whining in his tone when he says, “Sit on my dick. I need you on my fucking dick now, Angel.” 
Of course, you comply, despite your legs trembling slightly, letting Seonghwa slip out of his bottoms. His arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling you impossibly close to him, his lips making a whole garden of bites down your neck before he has both his hands lift your hips. 
Seonghwa lines himself against your fluttering cunt and he pushes himself into your pussy hole, his moans of relief sending you into a spiral on top of his cock sinking into you. 
Fuck, he’s filling you up so fucking good. 
“Fuck. That’s it, babe. You’re so fucking good”, he groans when you squeeze against him. 
“Hwa, oh my fucking god, you’re so full in me”, you sob, trying to adjust to his length. 
“Do you think we can find the piece better like this?” He jokes while peppering kisses down your neck to distract himself so he doesn’t fucking just burst in you just yet. 
Even in your pleasured haze, you still manage to laugh while you try to keep your eyes open. 
“I think we can”, you reply with a giggle, before squealing when you feel him twitch in you. You shift forward slightly, feeling his cock shift in you, dragging along your walls, a small whine escaping past your lips. 
With the last of your sanity remaining, you glance over the desk one more time, biting your lip to stay grounded, obviously to no avail, especially not with Seonghwa and his little movement behind you. 
“I really think it’s-fuck-not here”, Seonghwa mutters behind you, forcing himself not to thrust into you, his fingers slithering down to your wet clit once more. 
“I’m pretty sure it d-dropped. We haven’t checked the floor yet-ngh-right?” you manage to ask.
“Mmmm nope”, Seonghwa responds, mesmerised at the way your slick growing thicker on your clit and on his cock as he continues to rub your clit. “I guess we can do that later ‘cause I really need to fuck your pussy right now, Angel.” 
He doesn’t give you much time to answer because you’re a complete goner when Seonghwa is making you bounce off his cock while he gets you off with his fingers. 
You’re trembling from the sheer pleasure, your vision slowly growing hazy, the knot tightening in your abdomen more quickly than you thought. 
“H-Hwa! Gonna cum-Oh fuckkkk”, you draw out, white clouding your vision. Your cunt flutters around his cock, dopamine shooting up your body while you completely let go on his cock as Seonghwa fucks you through your orgasm.
“Fuck, you’re such a good fucking girl. “That’s it. Be a good girl and cum on my dick like that, Angel”, Seonghwa groans into your ear, his gaze traveling down at the way your thick cream streaks down his cock when he pulls out. He shuts his eyes, sighing into the nape of your neck while he listens to the way your cunt is just so loud and wet for him while he fucks your cream out of you, thrusting his hips upwards. 
“God, your pussy feels so fucking perfect. Fuck. I’m gonna cum. Gonna fill you up so good baby”, he pants before his hips thrust and press against yours, filling you up with his warm and thick cum accompanied by his low groans. 
You feel Seonghwa’s hands run down your body, soothing you after emptying his fucking load into you before he slowly pulls out of your cum-filled pussy. 
“I’ll get you a towel, Angel”, Seonghwa tells you, pressing his lips on your temple before leaving the bed. 
He retrieves a spare towel from the bathroom and cleans you up, before releasing you to wash up in the bathroom. 
When you renter his room, Seonghwa is switching gazes between his half-completed set and the instruction manual. 
He looks up at you with a grin that’s making you feel uneasy. 
“Babe, turns out I wasn’t missing a piece—I already had it in all along!”
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Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @pre1ttyies @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @ywtf @jeon-ify @miss-fallon @bunnyluvr25 @eggyboy5 @hourswithoutyou @iwishiwasthemoontonight @yunhogrippers @watermelon2319 @vampiregirl215 @kibs-and-bits @s-h-y-a @luvt0kki @httpseungmxn @vic0921 @sanhwajoong @bitejoongie @no1likevie @woojirang @jjoongstar @yuyusgirl
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nikkento-writes · 2 months
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Babysitter - Part 2
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Pairing: dad!Toji x babysitter!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~3.8k
cw: age gap (reader is 21, Toji is in his 30s), explicit language, cheating, pregnancy, smut – PIV sex (doggy style)
Summary: You deal with the aftermath of your summer babysitting job turned adulterous summer scandal.
Author’s Notes: Thanks for all the kind words and support on Part 1 of this! I hope you enjoy part 2, and who knows, maybe I'll write a part 3 one day lol. Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.
Taglist: @scorpiosugar @diegojeanne @f4irygard3n @cvixmei @soniiyi - more tags in the comments
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“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You blink away the tears in your eyes, holding the pregnancy test, hoping that somehow, you’ll blink away the second line indicating that you are indeed pregnant.
“No way.” Chiyo waits for you outside the stall, the apprehension in her voice apparent.
“Yes. I’m…” There’s a lump in your throat you have to swallow before you finish your sentence. “Pregnant.”
Your best friend’s silence on the other side only makes you panic more, but you don’t blame her. What can she really say to make any of this better? To stop your world from turning upside down?
She whispers your name quietly, at a complete loss for words. Then, she clears her throat, sounding as if she’s fighting tears herself. “I’m going to buy you a melon pan. Just…wait for me here, okay?” It’s the only consolation she can offer you in this moment, huddled in a public restroom of a convenience store; you appreciate the effort, nonetheless. You wait for her to leave, completely alone now. As soon as she’s gone, you sob into your hands.
It's not that you oppose being a mother. You’ve always imagined handing a positive pregnancy test to the love of your life with the biggest smile on your face, excited to raise a family together. Ideally, this would have happened sometime in the future, once you’ve established yourself as a full-fledged adult. Not like this: twenty-one years-old, less than a year until graduation without the slightest clue what you’re doing with your life. Worst of all, the father isn’t your husband, a boyfriend, even a friend. It’s Toji Fushiguro, the dad of the little boy you babysat over the summer, the husband of the kind woman who hired you. You still haven’t forgiven yourself for your adultery, the guilt eating away at you since the start of that lecherous summer fling. And now, you have this pee-on-a-stick to remind you how incredibly reckless you were to get involved with him in the first place. How undeniably irresponsible you were to have unprotected sex with a married man. Sure, it was the best sex you’ll probably ever have in your life. But was it worth it?
You wrap the pregnancy test in toilet paper, tossing it in the trash bin. Knowing that no good will come out of sulking in the 7-11 bathroom any longer, you finally exit the stall, washing your hands clean at the sink. Your phone vibrates in your back pocket as you stare at your reflection in the mirror, fixated on your belly, wondering what it will look like round and full of life. It buzzes again, snapping you out of your trance. When you check to see who’s messaging, you almost drop your phone out of shock.
Somehow, someway, the universe has it out for you. Because in the most perfectly disastrous timing ever, Mrs. Fushiguro decides to contact you.
~~~
A week later, you’re sitting on the train, heading to the Fushiguro household. Your stomach is in knots, both from anxiety and from the morning sickness. Sweat beads on your forehead, skin sticky against your clothing in this hot weather. The closer you approach your destined stop, the more and more nervous you get, almost convinced to call the whole thing off.
Believe it or not, Mrs. Fushiguro did not contact you to confront you about the dirty deeds you did with her husband. Instead, she messaged you in dire need of a babysitter once again. She spares you the details, asking if you could meet her in person to better explain herself. And for whatever reason, you agree.
You haven’t come up with a solid plan yet on what you want to do about your little predicament. So far, the only people that know are Chiyo and your parents, who, after the initial shock of it all, have been surprisingly supportive. They advised you to take the rest of the term off, which you were able to get arranged quickly through your school. This gives you several weeks to decide what you need to do. With one issue resolved, it leaves you with the next, and the most pressing: whether or not you should tell the father. The last thing you want is to break apart the Fushiguro family. You’re fully prepared to raise this baby as a single mother, which, with the help of your parents and best friend, seems doable. Besides, you’re not even sure if you want Toji to be involved considering his complete lack of interest in his other child, Megumi. Despite that, you believe that as the father, he has the right to know. Can you gather the courage to actually tell him?
Still lost in your train of thought, you hop off to walk to the house. When you arrive, you spot Mrs. Fushiguro already outside, leaning against her car in the driveway with little Megumi in her arms. They both smile upon seeing you, warming your heart. You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for whatever is to come. 
“Hello Mrs. Fushiguro,” you greet her, bowing politely, too shy to meet her gaze. “How are you?”
“Doing really well. Thank you for coming on such short notice.” She lets her son down, who steps towards you until he’s hugging your knee, cooing. “I wanted to talk to you in person about my complicated situation.”
“Is everything alright?” you ask, unable to resist kneeling down to meet Megumi at eye level, making funny faces at him.
She giggles. “Oh, everything is great! The divorce finally went through and I’m living with my new boyfriend now, who’s been the absolute best, especially with Megumi.”
You make a shocked expression, mouth agape, exaggerated for the kid’s entertainment, though you’re pretty much stunned yourself. “Divorce…?”
“Yeah! Toji and I have been separated for a long time now. I’m sorry I didn’t mention that over the summer. You’re still so young after all, no need to rope you into adult things.”
You almost bust out laughing at the irony, but you hold your tongue, continuing to listen to her.
She sighs, flipping her long, beautiful hair behind her shoulders. “That being said, I still care about the guy. I mean, he is the father of my child. Without me or Megumi there on a regular basis, the whole house has gone to shit. It seems like he’s actually taking this divorce pretty hard. So, I want to hire you as a babysitter for my ex-husband. Just for a little while until he can get back up on his feet.”
Another shocked face, which makes Megumi laugh while dread sinks into your chest. “Babysitter…?”
“Babysitter, housekeeper, whatever you want to call it. You did such a wonderful job with him over the summer, even while you were taking care of Megumi! I don’t know what you were feeding him. Whatever it was, he was definitely a little bit nicer when you were around.”
Lewd flashbacks replay in your mind of Toji eating you out sloppily, slurping up all your pussy juices in every room of the house. You focus on the ground, too ashamed to look at her. “Mrs. Fushiguro, I don’t know if I can do this.”
She squats to your level, reaching for your hand, holding it gently in hers. “I know this is a lot of ask. You’re the only one I can rely on for this. Please.”
A sense of déjà vu hits you. There’s desperation in her tone and it tugs at your heartstrings the same way it did when you first met her a few months ago. It doesn’t help that Megumi is now squeezing the index finger of your other hand, eyes full of curious wonder, grip surprisingly strong for such a young child. Would she be pleading with you like this if she knew the truth about you, Toji, and the baby? Even though they were separated during this whole ordeal, it doesn’t make what you did any better; you still decided to do it regardless of their marital status.
Maybe you can use this opportunity as a way to atone.  
You finally look at her, giving the most convincing smile you can muster, trying your best to ignore the wave of nausea washing over you. “Okay. I’ll do it.”
~~~
Mrs. Fushiguro asks you to start at noon the following day, giving her enough time to notify her ex about your temporary employment. When you use the set of keys she gave you to open the front door, you step inside cautiously, not sure what to expect. You’ve been dreading this impromptu reunion all night, wondering if you could even face him.
It’s a mess inside, heaps of dirty laundry scattered all over the furniture, fast food wrappers and empty ramen bowls littered on the kitchen counter. There’s a stench lingering in the stale air in here and you almost think the worse, but Mrs. Fushiguro had warned you about this. Seeing it in person is more heartbreaking than disgusting. Toji really is taking this divorce hard. It wouldn’t be right to burden him with more life-changing news, right?
You begin by gathering all the trash into garbage bags, flattening any cardboard to recycle. By the looks of it, he’s been living off junk food and protein bars for the past month. The refrigerator is near empty, aside from a questionable take-out container in the very back, which you end up dumping along with everything else. You make it your next task to get groceries after you load the washing machine.
When you return from the store, Toji remains absent. Nerves prevent you from leaning against the bedroom door to listen for any signs of him in there. His ex-wife mentioned that he goes out to gamble at the horse races whenever he’s short on cash, so it’s likely he’s there. Still, you’re anticipating his return, mentally preparing yourself for how you’ll behave around him. Given your current circumstances, you are serious about turning over a new leaf. No more funny business with him. Absolutely not.
It’s near dinnertime now and you’ve miraculously accomplished tidying the house and doing his laundry all within a few hours. You even managed to cook soup for dinner, full of hearty beef and fresh vegetables, something to provide nutrients compared to the processed food he’s been consuming lately. You’re stirring the pot when you hear keys jingle from outside the front door. He comes in, clad in a tight-fitting black shirt that accentuates his muscles and grey sweatpants that don't leave much to the imagination. A plastic bag is slung behind his shoulder, clearly from a convenience store. Despite his concerning diet, his physique is still impressive as ever. Just one glance at him has you fluttering below your belly, replaying the erotic memories you share together. You turn to face him, standing up straight, feigning confidence while you fret internally. He looks at you, brow raised slightly, a small smirk forming on his lips.
“Hello sir,” you greet him, bowing politely. Acting as if he’s a total stranger and not the man who rocked your entire world over the summer, now with evidence to prove it.
He sets the bag on the counter, revealing a couple of ramen packets inside. “What’s with the formalities?” he asks, grinning. “If I remember correctly, you were screaming my name nonstop the last time you were here.”
Heat rushes into your cheeks instantly, not surprised by his vulgarity, though still embarrassed. You clear your throat, trying to stay strong. “I’m here to work. Nothing else.”
He walks towards you, his stature casting a daunting shadow as he steps closer and closer, towering over you. His voice is low, borderline threatening to a point that has you trembling. “So you don’t want me to fuck you anymore?”
You swallow hard, composure wavering. “That’s right.”  Even you don’t fully believe it when it comes out of your own mouth, how can you expect him to?
There’s a strange look in his eyes, almost like he’s disappointed by your response. He turns his back to you, mumbling something about taking a shower. You watch him enter his bedroom, hearing him clear as day before he shuts the door with a dull thud. “I guess you don’t want me either.”
~~~
A week into being Toji’s live-in housekeeper, the two of you figure out a routine together that involves minimal interaction. You wake up in the morning to cook breakfast, eating it quickly and leaving the rest for him while you go out. You use this time to go for a walk, meet with Chiyo or your parents, do some grocery shopping, or just sit at the nearby park, enjoying the sun with your baby, who grows little-by-little each day.
Toji is usually gone the whole afternoon, either working out or gambling, so you’re able to do chores back at the house, like cleaning his room. He doesn’t return until dinnertime when tension seems to be at its highest. A big reason for that is because he’s made it a habit to eat right after his shower, shirtless and with his legs crossed on the floor, displaying a perfectly visible outline of his manhood. It’s distracting, to say the least. Chiyo mentioned the other day how you can have an increased libido during the first trimester. That’s definitely proving itself now.
Aside from the half-nakedness, something else surprises you about him. The two of you mostly avoid conversation with each other, eating in silence at the dining table while sneaking furtive glances whenever you get a chance. But he never fails to mutter, “Thank you for the meal,” before washing the dishes at the sink, retreating back into his room when he’s done. It’s the tiniest act of consideration that makes you wonder what’s going on in his head.
Tonight you sit across from each other as usual. You just finished eating the chicken katsu you made for dinner, along with a couple of side dishes you prepped earlier in the week. His abs look especially spectacular today and you find it harder than usual to stop peeking at them.
“You’re gonna burn a hole through me with the way you’re staring,” he says, chewing his last bite.
Shit, caught red-handed. You quickly look down at your empty bowl, mumbling an apology. “Sorry. I just…I can tell your hard work is paying off.”
“Yours too. The house has never been cleaner. And the food has never been better.” He’s looking directly at you, a genuine smile on his face. “Thank you.”
It’s no good. Your hormones are raging, sexual desire courses through you, all from that stupidly handsome grin and a silly little compliment. How did you ever think you could resist him?
You stand up, grabbing everything from the table. “I’ll do the dishes,” you offer, walking them to the sink, trying to calm down.
It’s no use, though. He sees right through you.
He gives you only a minute alone before he follows you, caging you between his big arms, your back to him, his mouth hot on your ear. “Let me help you.”
You let out a frustrated huff, already unraveling from his proximity. The smallest jut of your hips and there it is, his erection pressed to your ass, throbbing and even more massive than you remember it. “Toji, we can’t,” you whine, not making any attempt to separate yourself from him.
He slides his hands around your hips, pulling you in closer, rubbing his rock-hard cock against you. “I know you want it. I know you want me.”
And he’s right. You do. You want him with you, around you, inside of you. In all the ways he’s had you before, in new ways he’s never had but you’ve fantasized about. There’s no denying it anymore. You want him. You want him so fucking bad.
He takes you right there at the kitchen sink, bent over with your grip tight on the edge of the counter, pounding away at your wet, needy cunt. Neither of you bother to remove your clothes completely, Toji’s sweatpants shrugged down his thighs just enough, yours pooled around your ankles, soaked panties at your knees. “Fuck, Toji!” you moan, sticking your ass out to meet his thrusts.
His fingers find your clit, rubbing slippery circles around it. “Say it,” he grunts, increasing the pace.
Drools leaks out from the sides of your lips, too fucked out to process what’s he’s asking you. “What?”
“Say you want me,” he demands, massaging your swollen bud so deep, you feel it all the way down to your fucking toes.
“I want you. I want you, Toji!” you respond breathlessly, squeezing him tight with your orgasm.
“Fuck, I missed you. Missed my good girl.” He continues to fuck you, slowly now, relishing every second of being inside you. “Always so fucking creamy for me, fuck.” He pulls you up to embrace you from behind, fingers still pleasuring you, his other hand at your chin to face you towards him. The two of you kiss passionately, lips smacking, tongues swirling. So sloppy and wanton that it puts you on the verge of another orgasm, completely succumbed to pleasure.
You sleep with him in his bedroom after several more orgasms and a big one of his own, wrapped comfortably in his arms, with his cock and creampie inside you the rest of the night. For the first time in a while, you’re oddly at peace.
~~~
Your reckless decision making has led you into another troublesome scenario. Fortunately, you haven’t had any morning sickness the entire first week of your employment at the Fushiguro household. Unfortunately, it decides to come back today. There’s no way you’ll be able to make it to the bathroom near your room, so you have no choice but to hop out of Toji’s bed and run into his, clutching onto the porcelain bowl until it’s all out. You rinse your mouth off at the sink, hoping Toji didn’t hear any of it. But you know all too well by now that luck is never on your side.
He’s sitting up against the headboard, watching you come out of the bathroom. “Did you just puke in there?” There’s a hint of concern in his normally blunt tone.
You nod, bending down to retrieve your underwear and pants off the floor, avoiding his gaze.
“Are you sick?” he asks, the worry even more obvious now.
Shaking your head, you respond, “No, I just…I’m feeling a little nauseous, that’s all.” You walk towards the door, still not willing to look at him. “There should be leftovers in the fridge, so help yourself to breakfast. I’m going to lay down.”
He calls out your name. “Wait – ”
You ignore him, closing the door shut behind you, letting the tears fall down your cheeks as you retreat into your own bedroom, muffling your sobs into a pillow. After your wild romp last night, this bout of morning sickness has swiftly brought you back to reality. You’re still harboring the secret growing in your womb from the man who gave it to you to begin with.
There’s a firm knock on your door, startling you. “Hey, it’s me.”
In this split-second, you decide to stop with the lies and finally tell the truth. You open the door, Toji standing in front of you fully clothed in his usual attire, a serious expression on his face. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”
Eyes still puffy from crying, you take a deep breath. “I’m pregnant. And you’re the father.”
His mouth parts the slightest bit, no words coming out of it. The silence seems to linger on forever. You fill it by rambling all the thoughts that have been swimming in your head the last couple of weeks. “Before you start freaking out or anything, I’m telling you so that you know. I don’t expect you to be involved. I’m perfectly willing to raise this child on my own. And besides, I won’t be completely alone. I have my family to help me, my friends too. I’ll be totally fine. This baby is going to be well taken care of, I’ll make sure of it. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I just didn’t know how. But I feel better already because this has been stressing me out. It’s all going to work out okay? I think. I hope.”
After the long spiel, he stares down at the floor, jaw tight, mouth opening and closing, unsure how to respond. Eventually, he says, “I have to go.”
When he leaves the house, you crawl into your bed, bawling until there are no tears left for you to cry.
~~~
You wake up in the late afternoon to an enticing aroma wafting from the kitchen. It’s been hours since you’ve been in bed, moping about how poorly everything went with Toji. His reaction left you devastated. While you always expected to do this alone, hearing his negative response to it hurts more than you anticipated it to.
Curious, you make your way into the kitchen, shocked to find Toji standing over the stove, stirring a pot, the soothing scent of soup surrounding you. “What’s going on?” you ask, noticing a plethora of fresh vegetables laid out on the counter, along with a big bottle of prenatal vitamins and various snacks.
He turns the heat off, covering the pot with a lid. “I’m cooking,” he answers, facing you with a grin on his face. “Bone broth is a good source of calcium. And you need to keep eating lots of veggies so our baby is strong, like me. No more of this instant ramen shit.”
“I thought you were upset,” you say, stepping closer to him.  
“I know. I’m sorry I left like that. I was shocked at first, I’ll admit it. But I started to get excited." He takes your hands in his. "I have a lot of regrets in my life, but being a father isn’t one of them. Being a bad father is. I want to change. I need to change. For Megumi. For our new little one. For you.”
Strangely enough, you believe in his heartfelt declaration. You smile at him, letting him go to stand in front of the stove, taking a whiff of the comforting aroma of the hot soup he made for you, happy tears welling in your eyes. He hugs you gently from behind, nuzzling his nose to you. “I’m going to do it right this time, okay? I know I can do it with you.”
As Toji caresses your belly, kissing you softly along the neck, you feel the weight that’s been heavy on your shoulders ease up. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.
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avocado-writing · 2 months
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cutman
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turns out I’m gonna keep being horny for hugh jackman. had a crush on him when I was 10 and I guess that hasn’t changed almost 20 years later. anyway here’s a fic where he’s in a cage fight and you’re his cutman xoxo
pairing: wolverine x reader
rating: explicit
cws: blood, injury details, smut (dirty talk, semi-public sex, rough sex)
The bell rings and Logan staggers back to you, the roar of the crowd meaning you have to get close in order to be heard. You grab ahold of his biceps and manoeuvre him into a chair. He goes without complaint, any effort to resist having to be reserved for the actual fight itself. Opposite him, the other guy goes to grab a glass of water and you are once again reminded of his sheer mass; he’s twice Logan’s size and built like a fucking freight train. He catches you watching and hits you with a greasy smile, and you turn in disgust back to your lover. 
“How you holding up, honey?” you ask Logan, quickly glancing him over, getting a grunt in reply as he tries to refocus. He looks pretty bad. Bruising is flowering on his face and there’s a nasty gash on his forehead which is bleeding freely. You know he’ll heal up quick on his own, but you still get to work - pressing the ice-cold enswell to the worst of the spreading purple and dabbing at the blood with an epinephrine-soaked cotton swab. 
You’ve been called the best cutman in the business. This is true, but the fact your primary patient can heal himself up is probably a bit of a bonus too. For Logan, you’re mostly here to soothe; soothe and observe. 
“Okay, you’ve fucking got him, Logan. He’s weak on his left. He keeps trying to lead with his right hand which isn’t his dominant, I think he’s holding back because you’ve fucked his shoulder. If you don’t let him distract you, you can finish him off. You hear me?”
He focuses up at the smell of chemicals, eyes hazily locking in on you. Silhouetted by the grimy lights of this place, his vision not quite sharp yet, you have the hazy glow of a halo around you. An angel sent for him. The closest to heaven he’ll ever be. 
“Yeah,” he mutters, a bloodied hand coming up to caress your face. You smile despite the smear of red he leaves on your cheek with his fingertips, clasping him close. You press a kiss into his palm.
“What did I say, handsome? Stay with me.”
“Don’t let him distract me. Go for his left.”
“Atta boy,” you say with a grin, one which Logan manages to mirror despite still feeling slightly concussed, your praise like a shot of adrenaline. You surge forward to kiss him and he meets you with enthusiasm. He’s drunk on the moment, on the fight, on you. You can taste the copper as your tongue slides against his, the roughness of his beard scraping your cheeks. The crowd cheers leerily but you both ignore it. You and him, that’s all there is, the pinprick of your existence in this vast world. 
“I fucking love you,” he growls against your mouth. You nip at his lower lip, catching it for a second between your teeth in a promise of what’s to come later. 
“Finish this guy off and take me home, Logan. I’ll fucking die if you’re not inside me tonight.”
When you pull back you will be wearing his blood as lipstick, warpaint; a reminder that you belong to each other. 
He snarls, half-feral, and you think he might just take you there in the cage, in front of everyone who’s come to watch him fight. But the bell goes again to signal the start of the final round, and Logan staggers back to his feet instead. 
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He doesn’t even get you home. 
When the fight is won and you’re hoarse from cheering his victory, he drags you into one of the dingy little bathrooms. It’s dark and definitely not soundproofed but the two of you don’t care. You run your tongue along that delicious vein in his bicep, tasting the salt off of his hot skin, and he grips your thighs so hard you know that he will leave bruises in the shape of his fingerprints. 
“Mark me up, Logan. Let everyone see who I belong to, baby.”
“Fuck, such a dirty little mouth,” he growls, but you can hear the gruff chuckle in there too. He lifts you onto the sink like you weigh nothing, tearing at your belt and jeans so that he can get proper access to you. He’s rock hard, cock straining in his hand as he pulls himself out, and you wonder if he’s been this turned on since before the last round. 
Usually you’d sink to your knees and encourage him to fuck your throat, let him bring you to tears before he made it up to you, but he has no such patience now. He needs to sheathe himself in you, find your tight heat and bury himself there again and again. He’s about to push inside when you grab his forearm. 
He looks up with a glint of worry in his eye. You know, just for a second, that he thinks he’s hurt you. He’d stop if you asked him to, sweet little puppy. Instead you give him another ferocious kiss. 
“I wanna turn around. Wanna watch you fuck me.” You nod to the dirty mirror over the sink and he makes a deep noise of agreement in the back of his throat, manhandling you so you can brace yourself on the porcelain. 
You moan as he fucks inside of you with one vicious push, throwing your head back to reflect the long line of your neck. You see mirrored the dual look of feral desire and total adoration in his face as he fucks you like he’s been challenged to make your legs stop working. Holding on the best you can, you watch his injuries from the fight heal slowly, wounds stitching closed by themselves, bruises receding from purple to brown to nothing at all. It’s that sort of regeneration that makes him beg for you to draw blood when you bite him as you fuck, just to leave the proof on his body a little longer that you’ve been there. That you’ve loved him. 
“Fucking love you, Logan,” you cry out as he slams so hard into you he threatens to break the fucking sink. He leans over and grabs you by the hair, moving your face so that he can kiss you with more teeth and tongue than lips. You love it. 
“Mine,” he chokes. You wrap your little hands round one of his, bloodied and rough. 
“Mine,” you echo back, sinking your teeth in. 
1K notes · View notes
theemporium · 1 year
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james eating you out under your hogwarts skirt in the corner of a corridor 🤭
this could literally have been a whole fic tbh bedjwwbkbf anyways thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
.
This wasn’t the first time one of the marauders’ shenanigans had gone wrong, and you doubted it would be the last. 
But it was very, very different to their usual fuck ups. 
A lot of the time when something went wrong, it was for one of two reasons: either they got caught long before they could even hatch a plan, or something didn’t work out in their favour. You had seen it time and time again in the years you had been friends with the boys, and it never failed to amuse you.
This had been no different. One of them had a stupid idea, the rest of them encouraged it and the planning began. Despite the close friendship you shared with the boys, they never disclosed any details with you, so you were left sitting with the others as they huddled in the corner of the common room discussing their next prank. And ten minutes later, they were out the door to play out the prank, or so you assumed.
Instead, the boys had returned with sheepish looks on their face and a very fidgety James standing behind them, and it was all because the boys had tried to fuck with amortentia.
They fucked up the ingredients or the process—you still weren’t sure of the details—and it seemed James had taken the brunt of it all when he pushed the others away from the bubbling cauldron. 
However, none of you would realise just what side effects the dodgy potion would have on your boyfriend.
“Oh fuck,” your head hit the wall with a thump as you fought to keep your eyes open. “James, baby, please—”
“My pretty girl,” he groaned as his palms massaged the fat of your thighs, squeezing and pulling as he tugged one of your legs over his shoulder. “Taste so fucking good.”
“James,” you breathed out, your gaze shifting down but your skirt intruded the sight of your boyfriend lapping shamelessly at your cunt. “Someone can see us—”
“Don’t care,” he grumbled, his nose nudging against your sensitive clit until you were almost keeling over him. “Wanna taste my girl, princess. Can’t keep me away from her.”
Your heart was pounding in your chest, your body was humming with white, hot pleasure and the mere fact that anybody—whether it be a student or a professor or even a fucking ghost—could turn the corner as see your boyfriend pressing you against the wall, kneeling between your legs as he ducked under your skirt to eat you out. 
As it would turn out, the side effect of the dodgy potion made your boyfriend fucking insatiable. You had come more times in the last twenty-four hours than you probably had in the last few weeks, and it was all to do with the fact that James couldn’t get enough of you. 
He had you sprawled across the bed until you whined about other people hearing during the night. He had you bent over the common room couch when the rest of the castle was asleep. He had you pressed against the edge of the tub in the prefect bathrooms in the morning. He had his cock down your throat in the quidditch broom closet. He had you up against one of the windows on the staircase up to the divination tower between classes.
James Potter hadn’t let you have a single break to catch your breath since he was hit with the potion, and it was honestly a shock you were still standing at this point. 
“James, baby, please,” you whined, the noise was pathetic and needy, and something about the fact you could hear him slurping against your wet pussy between your pleas just made the coil in your stomach tighten. “We can’t—”
“Shhh, you can take it,” he murmured as his hands tightened around your thighs, pulling you closer to him until you were slumped against the wall with his face pressed against your cunt. “You’re still dripping, princess, can taste myself inside you.”
“Shit,” you hissed, your eyes clenching shut as your thighs squeezed around his head. “James—”
“Fuck, honey, need to fill you up again,” his voice was needy and whiny as he pulled his head out from under your skirt, his nose and chin and lips glistening with your arousal. Your eyes shifted down to see the way his cock strained in his trousers, how hard he was from simply making you come twice on his tongue. “You gonna help me out, princess? Gonna take my cock again?”
You were exhausted and you didn’t even know if you could stand up any longer, but the sight of your boyfriend pleading on his knees as he palmed his cock had your resolve shattering in seconds. 
“Please, Jamie, fill me up again.”
.
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Stars In My Eyes
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(a part two to this fic!)
modern music teacher!eddie munson x art teacher fem!reader
18+ ONLY MDNI!!!
warnings: fluff, so fluffy, first dates, first kisses, some anxiety/stress, a little dash of coach!steve harrington, suggestiveness
author's note: i feel like this took me ages to write! so sorry for the wait...i do sort of love how this turned out :) writing a first kiss scene is hard!!!
please let me know what your thoughts are on this series!
word count: 7.7k
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Eddie Munson couldn’t believe his luck.
Like, sure he’s gotten lucky a few times before.  There was that one time an officer let him off with a warning after he rolled through a stop sign, he’d played the “I’m a teacher during finals week” card and it had seemed to work out pretty well for him.  There were also a few times when a stranger in front of him at the Starbucks drive thru had paid for his morning coffee, only for him to turn around and see there was no one behind him to pay it forward to.  
And then, there was that time back during his final senior year where Stacy Cowell was going through a “rebel phase” and decided to give Eddie a string of random blowjobs over the course of a week and a half to make herself feel like she was living on “the wild side.”  She quickly transitioned out of that phase when Eddie had asked her out on a date, he figured they should probably make an effort to learn a little about each other if she was going to be deepthroating him in the back of his van every other day after school.  She turned him down with a disgusted sneer, leaving Eddie a little heartbroken by the fact that a girl could be so offended at the idea of a date with him.  
But none of that even mattered to Eddie anymore.  All of those situations touched by a bit of luck have been reduced down to mere coincidences now that he has you in his life.  Even though it was only one IKEA date trip that the two of you went on last weekend, Eddie couldn’t stop himself from imagining a long, happy future with you because of how fucking perfect it all went.
You don’t think you’ve ever been so nervously giddy over anything in your entire life.  There had never really been any boys that you were crazy for when you were younger.  Sure, you’d been in love a couple times before, but nothing was ever…”wow.” 
 You’d never felt any real sparks, never met anyone truly special enough to change your life like all of the women you’d seen in movies or read about in books.  
But Eddie…he was very much wow.
After you’d worked out the details for your IKEA trip that afternoon in your classroom, you found it hard to stop blushing for the remainder of the week.  The both of you decided that you’d go on Saturday morning, and Eddie had insisted on picking you up and driving there together.  He bowed his head and lightly pressed his lips to your hand in a dramatic and silly fashion before leaving your classroom.  Your knees felt weak and a bright red blush bloomed on your face as Eddie stood back up to his full height to face you. 
“You know,” he started, still holding your hand, "you're really cute when you blush like that.”
A tiny squeak is all that comes out of your mouth when you open it to respond.  
You struggle to put together a coherent sentence and settle for the smile and girlish giggle that bubbled its way out of your chest.  
“I’ll see you later.”
Eddie started to walk backwards, keeping your hand in his grasp until he was too far away and then turning around to exit your classroom.  There wasn’t much else you could do except stare at the hand that had just been held by him, while holding your other over your mouth in shock.  
Eddie waited the appropriate five seconds after being out of your line of sight before erupting into a silent “fist-punching-head-banging-fuck yeah!” celebration in the hallway.  He couldn’t believe he kissed your hand.  The thought to kiss your hand had barely graced his mind before his body had made the decision to go through with it.  Eddie was terrified that his nerdy qualities would cause you to run for the hills, or that you’d think he was weird or stupid.
But instead, you’d blushed bright red and blessed his ears with a giggle, and all of Eddie’s worries and fears were banished from his mind at the sound of it.  
Eddie decided he was going to really enjoy taking every opportunity to make you blush.  
-
There were only two days until your IKEA trip with Eddie, and somehow you kept missing each other in the hallways at school.  On the rare occasion that Eddie had a spare moment, you were at some kind of art teacher workshop.  Whenever you could pull yourself away from decorating your classroom and lesson-planning, Eddie was leaving early for the day to go look at different types of Tubano drums for his classroom.  
There were a couple of staff meetings that everyone had to attend, but the two of you never ended up sitting next to each other.  Instead, you would indulge in a game of eye tag, making yourself feel like you were in high school all over again with a big fat crush.  
While you were really looking forward to your day out with Eddie, a tiny part of you was glad that you weren’t running into him constantly.  You found yourself overpouring your coffee in the morning because of the way the deep brown shade of the coffee matched the color of Eddie’s eyes.  You accidentally took a sip out of your paint water cup instead of your drinking cup because you were staring off at the lamps in your room, wondering which one had been Eddie’s favorite.  Two days was just what you needed to collect yourself enough to act like a normal human being before you saw Eddie again.  You weren’t even allowing yourself the time to think about being in a car with him for the hour that it took to get to IKEA.  All of the workshops, lesson plans and other preparation for the start of school kept you calm and collected.
Eddie, on the other hand, was reduced to a pile of chunky silver rings and nerves.  He couldn’t stop thinking about everything he had to get done before your trip…date?  Was it a date?  Did you say the word date when you asked him?  Is it even a date when the girl asks the guy-
Eddie’s frantic pacing is interrupted by a shark knock on his propped open classroom door.
“Yo, Munson.  How’s the…” Steve trailed off as he took in Eddie’s disheveled state.  “Dude.”
“I know, I know, man.” Eddie responds, plopping down in a chair that was meant for one of his students.  He puts his head in his hands, tugging on the roots to try and get a grip.
“What’s goin’ on, Ed?  I haven’t seen you this distraught since One Direction broke up.”  Steve sits on top of a desk next to Eddie, jabbing him softly in the shoulder after his lame attempt at getting a smile out of Eddie.  
Eddie chuckles and shakes his head at the stupid joke.  He looks up at Steve with a deep sigh, then stands up and grabs him by the shoulders.
“If I tell you, it stays between us.”  Eddie fixes Steve with a hard look and raised eyebrows, not any different from the look he gives his students when they’re getting up to no good.  “I’m so dead serious.”
Steve’s eyes widen at the sudden seriousness, making a cross over his chest with his finger.  “Yeah man, cross my heart and all that.”
Eddie lets go of Steve, slumping back into the chair with a huff.  
“How do you know that a date is a date, and not just a friend thing?”
Steve smiles cockily and leans forward, always interested in Eddie’s love life…or lack thereof.
“Well, I don’t know…I think I might have to hear a little more about this special lady in order for me to provide some of my good ol’ Harrington Love Advice.”  Steve wiggles his eyebrows at Eddie, throwing in a wink for the sake of being annoying.
Eddie rolls his eyes, he knew it was a mistake to bring up girls around this guy.  Steve was always giving Eddie pointers on how to get chicks the way he did, but Eddie was in no way similar to Steve when it came to relationships.  Steve never had nothing to do on the weekends, always with a new girl, sometimes even the single moms at school.  He’d meet them out at a bar, woo them, take them to dinner and then even sometimes back to his place.  Despite his fuck-boy tendencies, Eddie knows it’s never that meaningful for either party.  Steve’s been pining after one of the English teachers for years, and these flings are only serving as a way to satiate his intensely flirtatious side.  
As annoying as he may be, it would be nice to rant about all of his pent up loverboy feelings for you to Steve.  Eddie knows he’s just giving him a hard time, it’s one of the many love languages they share as best friends.
“I-it’s just…she’s so beautiful man, like…holy fuck.”  Eddie shakes his head in disbelief, looking off into the distance as he rambles on about you.  “I mean just…she looks like some kind of Elven princess-angel-goddess-fairy–”
“Dude, Ed.  None of that nerd shit please, say it to me in English.”
Eddie chuckles and shakes his head with a sigh.  
“Okay.  I really like her.  I haven’t felt this way in years, maybe ever.  We met officially yesterday and just…clicked.”
Steve smiles at Eddie as he talks about you, happy to see his friend so excited about someone.
“We made plans to go to IKEA this weekend, but I don’t know what to make of it?  Is it a date?  Should I bring her flowers?  What if I do bring her flowers and she gets weirded out because it was actually never a date at all?”
Steve holds his hands up like he’s trying to calm down an animal.  
“Woah there, buddy.  No need to get all freaked out about it.”  Steve can’t help but to laugh a little at the helpless look on his friend’s face.  “Let’s just start with the details, okay?  Who asked who?”
“She asked me.  I said I liked her lamps and then she said she got them at IKEA and then I said that I needed some for my room and then she said that we should go to IKEAandshopforsometogether-”
“Okay, okay man.  Take a deep breath.”  Steve motions for Eddie to inhale for a couple seconds.  
“Then let it all out.”  Eddie expels the breath from his lips in a hard huff, looking a little calmer.  “Alright.  So, she asked you?”
Eddie nods.
“That’s good, it means she’s interested!  Not a lot of women are making the first move these days, it means that she definitely wants a slice of Munson.”
Eddie rolls his eyes at Steve, but still waits for him to go on.
“Are you picking her up for the trip to IKEA?”
“Yeah, I offered to pick her up and drive us both there since it’s about an hour away.”
Steve scratches his five o’clock stubble.
“Hmm…okay.  Did she like…jump at the chance for you to drive her or was there some hesitation before she agreed?”
Eddie thinks back to that moment.  How the two of you were standing slightly too close for new friends, the way your eyes seemed to sparkle as you looked up at him, how he was surprised you couldn’t hear his heart beating out of his chest.  
He remembers offering to drive the both of you to the store, surprising himself by saying it way calmer than he was feeling.  Your face lit up a little, like you were shocked that he’d even offer to pick you up and drive you there.  You smiled and nodded your head sweetly before agreeing out loud.
Eddie feels himself smiling at the tiny memory.
“It wasn’t like she immediately answered…but she definitely was smiling when she agreed.  She didn’t seem nervous about it or anything, it was more like she was excited or something.”
Steve’s eyebrows shoot up as a smirk emerges on his face.
“So let me see if I’m getting this straight.  She asked you to go to IKEA, probably knowing it was a long drive, and then she happily agreed to let you pick her up and drive the two of you there?  For a whole two hours there and back?”
Eddie nods, anxiously awaiting Steve’s opinion on all of this.
“I mean, it’ll probably be a good four or five hours that you spend together driving and shopping.”
Steve fixes Eddie with a look that says ‘c’mon man, it’s obvious.’
Eddie’s had enough of his edging.  “Will you just get to the fucking point please for the love of god?”
Steve sighs and claps a hand on Eddie's shoulder. 
“Ed, it’s a date.”
Eddie barks out a triumphant laugh and Steve does the same.  The two men high five and Steve wraps a beefy arm around Eddie’s shoulder to pat him on the chest.  Eddie can’t help but to let out a big sigh of relief now that he can stop worrying about how to act on this trip date.
-
On Friday, you could’ve sworn you went slightly neurotic.  
Since Tuesday you’d been considering your day with Eddie as a date, but it suddenly hit you that maybe he didn’t feel the same way.  What if you’d been doing all this worrying and freaking out for no reason?  What if he ends up calling you ‘dude’ the entire day?  What if he has a girlfriend already, and he just agreed to take you to IKEA so that you wouldn’t get your feelings hurt?
You’d been running circles in your head trying to prepare yourself for any and all possible outcomes that Saturday could hold for you, but none of it seemed to be doing you any good.
So, you did what you always did whenever you found yourself flipping out over something new.
You made a to-do list. 
Pick out an outfit.  Dress! too fancy…jeans?  Dress, definitely dress. not too fancy though…
Drink wine 
Watch movie
Clean house…again
Drink more wine
Possibly reconsider outfit…
After all was said and done, you plopped down on your worn-in couch, sufficiently drunk with a clean house and an outfit neatly hung up outside of your closet.  You decide to pour your third and final glass of wine for the evening, and to surrender your anxiety to the gods of love.  You hope and pray that they like you enough to let you have this one. 
-
It was finally Saturday.  Eddie stands in front of his closet furiously, wondering why in the fuck he can’t find a single thing to wear for his date with you today.  He’s got enough clothes to fill his entire closet, dresser, and a $20 clothing rack he picked up at Target years ago.  Steve said to just go with what felt the most like ‘Eddie’, but he’s suddenly unable to remember what his style even looks like.  
He wants to punch himself in the nuts for not taking the time last night to plan this all out like a normal person.  
He ends up settling for a fitted white tee, a pair of trusty black jeans, and black boots.  On a FaceTime call with Steve (so he could approve Eddie’s choice), Steve mentioned that the outfit was casual, but still fairly nice, and that the white shirt showed off his tattoos and muscles.
“Chicks dig the muscles and white tee combo, man.  Trust.”
Eddie chuckles at his friend’s ‘frat boy’ lingo, but the comment makes him feel better about his appearance anyways.  Last year, Steve had managed to convince Eddie to start going to the gym with him after school during the week, and it pains him to admit that he sort of really likes it now.  He likes how much stronger he feels, he likes sweating out all of his frustrations, and most of all he likes the way he fills out his t-shirts now.
After hanging up the call with Steve, Eddie flexes a little in his mirror before leaving to go pick you up.  He decides to do a few last minute push ups and to moisturize the tattoos on his arms so that he looks extra good for you.
-
Perhaps being slightly neurotic about this date was a good idea.
Thanks to all of your meticulous planning, you managed to get completely ready with a half hour to spare.  You decided against sitting on your couch until Eddie arrived since the nervous butterflies in your stomach made you want to throw up, so you opted to wander around your house for the remainder of the time.
You pass by your mirror, doing a final check and making sure your outfit and makeup are up to par.  You’d decided on a simple white dress, with a denim button up thrown over it and your pair of black chelsea boots that had yet to let you down.  You smile at your reflection, happy that you’d managed to choose a comfy and cute outfit that felt like you.
There’d been too many dates before this one where you’d gone out and spent insane amounts of money on brand new outfits that you weren’t even sure you really liked, all in the name of impressing your date and hoping he likes you enough to ask you out on a second one.  When prepping for those dates, you spent hours upon hours running around like a mad woman.  Shaving, plucking, tweezing, waxing.  Making sure your hair curled just right and that your eyeliner was sexy, but not slutty.
You couldn’t figure out why Eddie felt so different to you.  Even though the nerves of a first date had really freaked you out the night before, this morning was fairly calm.  Sure, you took plenty of time in the shower and doing your hair and makeup, but it didn’t feel like you were trying to morph into a different version of yourself to please a man. 
It felt more like you were trying your best to look like your favorite version of yourself. 
You want Eddie to know who you are inside and outside of work, and you really hope that he likes what he finds. 
-
Eddie stays parked outside of your house for a minute or two to try and settle his nerves.  
You lived in a small, red brick house in a family neighborhood.  There were flowers planted in the beds under your windows, and your front door was painted a deep turquoise color.  Eddie sucks in a breath when he sees your figure moving around through the gauzy white curtains covering your windows.  
How can a hazy silhouette still be so beautiful?
Looking into his rearview mirror, Eddie takes a deep breath.
“You got this man.  Be cool.”
He turns his car off and makes his way to your front door, knocking three times and then taking a step back to wait for you.
It takes all of two seconds for your front door to swing open, revealing you on the other side.
Eddie immediately feels weak in the knees.  You looked so cute in your little boots, and he couldn’t help but to let his eyes trail up the smooth skin of your legs.  He gulped a bit at the short hem of your dress, and then realized he should probably say something.
“Hey you.”
“Hi,” You smile up at him bashfully as he looks you up and down.  You take the opportunity to look him over as well, and damn.  You already knew he was sexy, but his tight tee shirt and pulled back hair made you want to drag him into your house and do things to him…
You only notice that he’s been holding a hand behind his back when he brings it out in front of him, revealing a beautiful bouquet of flowers.  
“These are for you.  I didn’t know which was your favorite, so I just asked the lady to throw together a bunch of different kinds and to make it look pretty.”  Eddie holds the colorful bouquet out to you and smiles sheepishly.  
Your mouth hangs open as you reach out to take them, being so careful for no real reason.  You look up at Eddie with those big, sparkling eyes.
“Thank you so much, Eddie.  These are so incredibly beautiful,” he watches you looking down at the flowers, gently brushing your fingers against their petals.  “Let me run inside and find a vase for them real quick.  Come on in!”
You wave him in behind you and hurry inside.
Eddie tries to suppress the excitement he feels at being invited into your home.  He felt like he already got a good glimpse at who you are and how you express yourself when he was inside your classroom, but he’s now getting to see where you spend the majority of your time, where you live.  As he steps over the threshold and into your house, he readies his brain to take mental pictures of everything he sets his eyes on, just in case he never sees it again.
Instantly, he’s hit with a sense of “home.”  The inside of your house is the perfect temperature and it smells so good and womanly, like your perfume and also like you’ve been baking something but somehow also like flowers…Eddie loves it already.
You scurry off into the kitchen, trying not to think about the fact that Eddie Munson is looking around your house right now.
Where in the hell have all of your vases run off to?
Eddie walks around cooly with his hands clasped behind his back, taking in everything about your space.  Much like your classroom, Eddie is able to spot at least four different sized lamps and light fixtures placed around your entryway and living room.  There were warm white Christmas lights hung up along the ceiling, multiple green-leaved plants in different corners, and Eddie even thinks he spotted a black cat sprinting under your soft looking white sectional.
Overall, he’d give your interior design skills an 11/10. 
He’s just starting to miss you a little when you come out from your kitchen holding your flowers in a sparkly glass vase.  
It’s an odd feeling, seeing Eddie in your house.  His ‘edgier’ look seems like it wouldn’t fit with your overall aesthetic, but to your surprise he looks like he belongs here.  You walk up to him almost in a daze, admiring the silver hoop earrings he’s wearing, the smile on his lips, and the way some of his hair has made its way out of his low bun to frame his face.  
The two of you stand there for a moment looking at each other, with you holding your flowers in between your bodies.  You engage in a staring match for almost a second too long before you break the silence.
“No one’s ever gotten me flowers before,” you sheepishly admit, looking down at them instead of at him.  Eddie grins at the blush that blooms onto your cheeks after your prolonged eye contact.
Eddie scoffs before he can stop himself.
“Seriously?  That’s a damn shame, sweetheart.”
You look up at him again and try not to faint at how easily the word fell from his perfect lips.  Unable to take another second of his eyes on yours, you retreat into your living room to find the perfect place for your new flowers.  You decide to put them on your coffee table, then turn around to find that Eddie had followed you in.  
He offers his arm out to you, “Shall we?”
This time, you can’t fight the smile.
You take his arm and swipe your purse from the coat hanger next to your front door on your way out.
-
Eddie was the perfect gentleman for the entire duration of the car ride to IKEA.  He had opened the car door for you, he let you pick the music, and he definitely did not sneak a glimpse at your bare, voluminous thighs when your dress shifted as you sat down.  The sweet smell of your perfume spread throughout the interior of his truck, he hopes that smell never fades away.
He couldn’t help glancing over at you every other minute, looking so beautiful in his passenger seat while you bobbed your head to whatever song you had queued up on his phone. 
“Would it be a total invasion of privacy if I played your On Repeat playlist?  I’m dying to know what the music teacher’s favorite music is right now.”  Eddie turned to see that you were smiling pleadingly at him, and how could he say no to that face?
“I suppose,” Eddie sighs dramatically.  “But, you are not allowed to judge me for whatever pops up.”  He playfully points a finger at you while keeping his eyes on the road.  You giggle girlishly.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
You hit ‘shuffle’ on Eddie’s playlist and aren’t surprised when the first song that plays through the speakers is ‘The Unforgiven ll’ by Metallica.  You already knew Eddie was a fan of the band thanks to the music he always has playing a tad too loudly whenever you pass by his classroom.
“Oh, I know this song!”
Eddie’s face whips towards you sporting a shocked ‘you’ve gotta be kidding me’ expression.  He was definitely expecting you to be the ‘indie music’ type.  Your eyebrows furrow adorably angrily at the look on his face.  
“What?  A girl can’t like Metallica?” You fix him with a look that tells Eddie he should think twice about his response.
“W-well…I just didn’t expect you to be into them…that’s all.”  You roll your eyes playfully at him and cross your arms.  “But!  I’m very pleasantly surprised that you are!  Girls rule, alright?  Men like…totally suck and stuff.”
You chuckle at his frantic attempt at avoiding a lecture on gender inequality and feminism while settling back into your seat.  And because you actually do know and love this song, you start mouthing the words, which eventually evolves into singing them under your breath.
When Eddie thought he spotted you mouthing the words out of the corner of his eye, he was sure that his eyes were playing tricks on him.  But just barely hearing you singing the words to his favorite Metallica song just further confirmed a fact that he already knew.
Eddie Munson was totally going to fall in love with you.
The rest of the car ride consisted of sharing music, talking about work and life, childhood memories, and other random topics.  Eddie discovered that you love thunderstorms, your cat’s name is Pascal (after the chameleon from Tangled), and that you moved here at the beginning of summer from Chicago.
Eddie swears there’s never been a conversation in history that flowed as well as yours and his.  He felt like he’s known you for years, and he hopes you’re feeling the same way.
You totally are.
-
Once the two of you made it to IKEA and inside the giant store, Eddie quickly realized that he never really put any thought into what he actually wanted to buy for his classroom.  You swiftly came to his rescue and pulled out your phone to open up Pinterest.
Together, you found a couple pictures that matched the general vibe of Eddie’s classroom.  He grabbed a map of the store and a cart, and set off into the maze of furniture.  
You were back to being shy again, now that you were out in the wild with Eddie.  He found that making jokes about all of the funny names got you giggling, and so he didn’t miss an opportunity.
He made you laugh the hardest next to the Koppang drawers.
You bumped your shoulder into his around the Baggebo bookcases.
His hand brushed yours next to a Tornviken kitchen island. 
And Eddie finally worked up the courage to hold your hand next to a Klippan loveseat.
You gasped a little when you felt his warm hand slide into yours, interlocking your fingers together.  A red hot blush worked its way up your neck as you snuck a glance over at him, only to find that he was already looking at you with a smirk.  He knows exactly what this hand holding is doing to you.
He chuckles smugly as the two of you arrive at the lights section of the store.  As he pushes the cart through the aisles, you’re enamored by the twinkling lights that are draped overhead.  You’re lucky he’s holding your hand, or else you probably would’ve fallen flat on your face.  Eddie can’t help but to stare at you as you stare up at all the different light fixtures.  The different colors and hues of light shine beautifully onto your face, and the soft smile on your lips makes Eddie wish he could just grab you and kiss you right here in the aisle.  But, he figures that would cause you to explode after your reaction to his hand-holding.
He watches as you look further down the aisle at the lamps that are on display there, your face lighting up in recognition.
“Oh!  That’s one that I’ve got in my room!”  You point at an orange, donut shaped light called a Varmblixt.  Eddie recognizes it, you do indeed have one hanging on the wall behind your desk.
“I must have it,” Eddie says with a flourish ,”Never have I seen a more extraordinary donut lamp.”
You giggle and go to grab one to place in the cart, but the box proves to be way heavier than you remember.  Eddie notices as soon as you inhale to exert more effort, and he steps in immediately. 
 No fair maiden such as you should be forced to exert any effort whatsoever in his presence.
“I’ve got it, sweetheart.”
You try not to let the name affect you but once again, you fail.  You’re left blushing and biting your lip, speechless.  You stare unashamed at Eddie as he picks up the heavy box and goes to place it in the cart with ease.  The overhead lights were really doing him favors, every ridge and contour of his body was lit to perfection.  You could see the delicious bulge of his biceps, the ripple of his forearm muscles, and the outline of his chest in his shirt….why is your mouth watering?
Eddie easily places the box in the cart, turning to face you again.  He finds you blushing up at him with wide eyes, and is unable to contain the smug smirk on his face.  The sudden lack of distance between the two of you did not go unnoticed by him, he hoped you couldn’t hear his heart pounding in his chest.
The ‘normal you’ would’ve noticed that you were obviously in Eddie’s personal bubble, and you would’ve taken a step back like the respectable adult that you are.  But the ‘normal you’ was long gone in Eddie’s presence.  This version of you was not unlike the version that existed when you were an awkward teenager who was on the brink of passing out anytime a boy even breathed in your direction. 
While you were busy ogling Eddie’s physique, you’d failed to notice the close proximity between the two of you, which led you to your current situation.  
You and him were so close together, you could feel the warm puffs of air from between his parted lips gently hitting your face.  His gaze trailed down from your eyes to your lips, but you wouldn’t have noticed anyways because you were one step ahead of him.
His lips looked so pillowy and soft, you wondered how they’d feel pressed against yours.  Would he kiss you slowly, gently holding your face in his big hands and brushing his thumbs along the apples of your cheeks?  Or would he be rougher than that, grabbing you by the waist and tugging you into him, kissing you with fire and passion?
Eddie’s eyebrows furrow as he watches you suck your bottom lip into your mouth to bite it.  You’re so goddamn beautiful, and you looked like an angel in this aisle of lights.  A lamp from behind you lights up the silhouette of your hair like a halo, and he can see the lights above his head reflected in your eyes like stars.  
Eddie knows he shouldn’t kiss you right now, not in the middle of IKEA where he can hear kids whining to their parents and couples arguing over which shade of beige would match their living room better.  He knows this, but he can’t stop himself from reaching his hand up to gently grasp your jaw.  His thumb slides from your chin to your bottom lip, tugging it free from your teeth.
His hand snakes down to the side of your neck, and you can feel the slight tremor in his hand.  You’re glad that the situation is affecting him too, because you are freaking out.  
Is he going to kiss you right now?  
In IKEA?
On your first date? 
Is this even a date?  
Do you even want him to kiss you?  Idiot, of course you want him to.
Eddie’s eyebrows lift slightly, almost questioning you.  Asking you, ‘Do you want this? Is this okay?’
You answer him with a soft smile, and you feel his hand move behind your neck to pull you in.
It is at this moment that a baby starts to wail one aisle over, effectively ruining any sort of moment you and Eddie had been sharing.
He lets out a frustrated huff, and touches his forehead to yours with closed eyes.  
“Of course,” he groans.
You’re secretly giddy at the fact that he so obviously wanted to kiss you badly.  You bring your hand up to his arm that’s still resting on your neck to give it a reassuring squeeze, and in a surprising burst of confidence, you rise up on your toes to peck him on the cheek.
Eddie’s eyes shoot open at the feeling of your soft lips on his cheek.  He pulls back to stare down at you as his face turns red.
You giggle at him, then turn around to walk down the aisle.
“C’mon, I think I saw another one of my lamps down this way!”
Eddie snaps himself out of his daze with a shake of his head, he’s sure that he’s got hearts in his eyes as he watches you walk away from him.  Grabbing the cart with one hand, he holds his other gently to his cheek, touching the spot that’s still warm from your lips.
-
Eddie ends up purchasing five lamps from IKEA after an hour and a half of wandering through the aisles with you.  
He can’t help but to act like the loverboy he is when he’s looking at furniture with you.  He fantasizes about a life with you, imagining that the two of you are actually here to pick out items to furnish your shared house.  
He wonders which kind of wood floors you’d pick out and which backsplash you’d want in the kitchen.  You’d probably want to decorate with colorful rugs and throw pillows, and Eddie wouldn’t complain.  Not as long as you’re happy.   He’d live in a pink house decorated with bows and lace trim as long as he was living in it with you.  
Maybe he’s getting ahead of himself, it’s only your first date together right?
If only he knew you were having similar thoughts as you strolled up and down the aisles, hand in hand.  You thought about what kind of decorating he did in his house, you figured it was styled in some way considering the amount of effort he puts into making his classroom look as cool as it does.  Does he have shelves full of records or different posters framed and hung up on his wall?  Which side of the bed does he sleep on?  You hope he likes plants, there’s no way you could part with your beloved greenery if the two of you were to live together.
You’re quick to silence the random thoughts buzzing around in your head, it’s silly to think about these things on your very first date…you don’t even know his middle name yet!
You and Eddie both seem to snap out of your stupors at the same time, sighing simultaneously.  You both turn to look at each other and then begin to laugh, unsure on whether or not the ‘jinx’ rules apply in a sighing situation.  
-
Eddie pays for the lights, and soon enough you’re both back in his truck.  
It dawns on you that your date is almost over, but you’re quickly redirected when you hear the starting notes to the next song that starts playing when Eddie’s phone connects to his radio.
Is that…Taylor Swift?
You turn to him slowly, confused at why a Taylor Swift song is on his ‘On Repeat’ Spotify playlist.
Eddie’s already staring at you mortified.  He holds a hand up, pausing any words that might’ve come out of your mouth.
“Before you say anything,” he begins ,”I really admire her lyricism.  Girl’s a wizard with words.”
The two of you sit in a charged silence for a moment before you can’t hold in your reaction any longer.  A laugh breaks free from your chest, and Eddie can’t  help but to laugh along with you.
You’re wiping tears from your eyes as your laughter dies down, and Eddie just grins at you.
“I can’t believe it.  The rock and roll music teacher listens to enough Taylor Swift for it to end up on his ‘On Repeat’ playlist.”  You shake your head at him with a wide smile on your face that Eddie wants to take a picture of and frame.  
“Yeah, yeah…laugh it up.  As a music teacher, it’s my duty to appreciate all types of music.”
You nod along to his explanation, “Yes, of course.  How else are you supposed to connect with the teenage girls these days?”
“Right! Yes!”  Eddie exclaims.  “I do this lesson on lyrics and Taylor’s music is a great example of what storytelling in music can look like.  I respect her, hard.”
You stifle another laugh at his emotional Taylor Swift themed outburst.
“This stays between you and I alright?” Eddie points a finger at you playfully.  “If Harrington gets word of this I’ll never live it down.”
“Of course, my lips are sealed.”  You mime zipping your lips shut and throwing away the key.
Eddie settles back into his seat with a huff, boyishly smiling over at you.
“I have a very important question for you Eddie.”
He leans in, intrigued by your seriousness. 
“Which era are you in right now?”
Eddie scoffs, throwing his head back with a groan.  This sends you into another laughing fit, Eddie can’t help but to join in again.  He’s coming to find out that your joy is such an infectious thing.
“Hmm let’s see…,” he muses.  He turns to look at you with one hand on the wheel and a smirk on his face as he puts his keys in the ignition.  
“Right now…I’d have to go with ‘Lover,’” he says with a wink.
Your laughter is cut off abruptly as you gasp and bite your lip, attempting to subdue the cheesy grin that’s surely made its way onto your face by now.  
You stare unashamed as Eddie puts his right hand over the back of your seat to turn around and look through the rear window as he reverses the car out of its parking spot.  You can smell the cologne he must’ve sprayed on this morning, which immediately awakens the butterflies in your stomach.
As soon as Eddie is set on the route back to your house, he holds out his hand expectantly over his center console.  You look at it, then at him, then back at his hand before shyly placing your hand in his.  He’s quick to lace his fingers through yours, holding on tight and running his thumb back and forth.
You’re both thinking that you could get used to this.
-
Eddie (reluctantly) only lets go of your hand in order to rush around the front of his truck to open your car door for you after he’s pulled into your driveway.  He’s quiet as he walks you to your front door, wondering which way is the best way to ask you out on another date.  
You stop when you reach your door, looking down at your hand in his.  The silence begins to feel just a tad awkward as you both search for something to fill it.
“Thank you,” you start quietly ,”for today.  I had a wonderful time.”
Eddie lets out a relieved breath and grins widely down at you.
“I did too,” he begins, readying himself for his next question.  “Would you…I mean–would you like to…uh…shit, would you want to maybe do it again sometime?”
You know what he means, but it’s still so tempting to tease him when he’s blushing like this.
“Would I want to go to IKEA with you again?”
“N-no!  I mean, if you wanted to we could I guess…b-but I was thinking something more along the lines of dinner?”
You find it adorable how nervous he is to ask you out on a second date, as if you wouldn’t agree to go out to dinner with him tonight.
“I’d love that.”
Eddie’s face lights up with a triumphant smile as he lets out the anxious breath he’d been holding in.  
“Good, that’s really good.”  The way you’re smiling up at him right now is causing him to lose his train of thought.  “Um…how’s tomorrow night?  Around 7?”
“Tomorrow night is perfect.”
“Awesome.  Great, yeah I’ll just…I’ll pick you up, okay?”
You’re beaming as you nod your head, much too ecstatic at the idea of going out with Eddie again to form a coherent sentence.
Eddie finds himself smiling and nodding with you, you’re just too adorable. 
“Hey could I uh…c-could I get your number?” Eddie stammers the question out like he’s a prepubescent teenager, mentally face palming the whole time.
He’s relieved when you chuckle and hold your hand out for him to place his phone in.  He fumbles around trying to give you his phone as quickly as possible, he can’t believe how nervous he feels right now. 
He finally somehow manages to pass over his phone with a new contact page pulled up and ready for you.  You type in your number and name, making sure to add the artist’s palette emoji afterwards.  Eddie laughs through his nose when he sees it, then pockets his phone again.  
There’s a weird tension in the air that can only be brought upon by two people who so obviously want to kiss each other, but are too nervous to make the first move.  Eddie wracks his brain for a way to ask you if it’d be okay for him to kiss you without looking like a total idiot.  It’s really unfortunate that the way you bite your lip causes his mind to completely shut off and switch to autopilot.  
“I really wanna kiss you right now,” he blurts out.
You look up at him, shocked at his bluntness.  Eddie’s even more shocked than you are.
“Y-you probably should then,” you bashfully admit.
Eddie can’t believe that worked.
He steps towards you and softly places one hand on your cheek, the other going to gently grasp the side of your neck similarly to the way he had in IKEA during your almost-kiss.
Your eyes flutter closed as you feel his lips graze yours for the first time.  The feeling is electrifying, and you can’t help but to venture forward for more.  
Your lips were just as soft, if not softer, than Eddie imagined. 
You plunge forward to press your lips against his, instantly deepening the kiss.  Eddie found himself instantly addicted to the feel of your lips and the way you sigh into the kiss.  It’s a shy kiss at first, where the two of you slowly begin to figure out your shared rhythm.  But it wasn’t long before you sank into a synchronized dance, mirroring each other’s movements in a way that crafted the most perfect, earth shattering first kiss.  
You let Eddie Munson kiss you at your front door in a way that you had longed to be kissed for your entire life.  This was how the women you saw in movies or read about in books were kissed.  You’d read about magic and sparks flying, and you think you’re finally starting to believe in all of it.  
Eddie moves his hand from your cheek to your waist, gripping it and pulling you closer to him.  The gasp you let out gave him the sweet opportunity to run his tongue against your bottom lip, asking, pleading for an entrance which you of course granted.  You tasted like autumn and felt like home, he decided he could kiss you for hours on end.
You both stood there for a good five minutes at your front door, making out like giddy teenagers and feeling like them too.  Eddie finally pulls away from your lips, pleased to find you subtly chasing his mouth with your own.  You open your eyes and come out of your kiss-induced haze to find him smiling adoringly down at you with both hands now circling your waist.  
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss you once more. 
“Actually, I’m gonna call you tonight.”  He kisses you again.  “Is that okay?”  Another peck.
You're giggling as he places a final kiss on your forehead, “Yes, please.”
“Good.”
Eddie steps back, grabbing your hand to kiss it like he did on Tuesday.  He pulls you back in with that same hand to plant one last kiss on your lips, then jogs back to his truck.  He waves and quickly honks his horn twice as he pulls away.  
You’re left standing at your front door, watching his truck disappear down your street and reliving every moment of your first kiss with Eddie Munson.
When you finally make your way inside, you make sure to smell your brand new beautiful flowers before scurrying off to your bedroom to pick out an outfit for your second date with Eddie tomorrow night.  
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TAGLIST:
@josephquinnsfreckles @the-fairy-anon @anukulee @littlebebebunny @meetmeatyourworst @lalalala-melmosworld @someantics @lokis-army-77 @loserboysandlithium @strangerstilinski @mystra-midnight @lesservillain @queenimmadolla @luveline @munson-blurbs @fairyysoup @urhoneycombwitch @oneforthemunny @rebelfell @taintedcigs @wroteclassicaly @eiightysixbaby @bettyfrommars @loveshotzz @lovebugism @carolmunson @rustedhearts @lonelysatellites
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starkwlkr · 7 months
Text
bitch, i’m a mother! | f1
female driver x f1 drivers (platonic) i like that almost every story i read about a female driver her team ends up being porsche and I’m not mad about it :) so for this fic, the reader is driving for porsche lol also I’m just making up names for the engineers and team principal. also because I’m in love with charlie hunnam, my man is gonna make an appearance
part 1 part 3
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Y/N BEING THE MOTHER OF EVERY DRIVER IN THE PADDOCK
“Y/n is so great, you’re going to love her. She’s the best.” Oscar listened to his new teammate as they walked into the Porsche hospitality. The rookie immediately felt out of place with him being the only one in papaya colors while Lando was in casual clothes.
“Hey, Lando!”
“Lando! How’s it going?”
“Norris, hey!”
Lando greeted most of the Porsche team with a smile while Oscar nodded at them. “I hang out here sometime if you couldn’t tell.” Lando joked.
“So if I can’t find you in Mclaren . . ”
“There’s a big chance I might be here.”
Oscar nodded once again. “Noted. Where’s Y/n?”
As if on cue, Y/n walked into the Porsche hospitality with her team principal by her side. Once she spotted Lando, she called out his name. As the Brit approached the driver and team principal, he gave her a big hug. It was the start of the 2023 season and they hadn’t seen each in a while, of course he was going to give her a hug.
“I’ll see you around, Y/n. Nice to see you, Lando, and you must be mclaren’s rookie. Welcome to F1, I’m Adam.” The Porsche team principal greeted Oscar.
“Thank you—” before Oscar could continue, Y/n cut him off.
“I’ve heard so many great things about you! And you’re an Aussie too! What is it with Mclaren and Aussies? Whatever, I’m glad you’re here, Oscar. I hope you enjoy yourself. Have you eaten yet? I was just in my way to get breakfast. Let me tell you a secret, the Porsche hospitality has the best food in the paddock.” Oscar instantly felt at home with the female driver. She had a comforting presence that Oscar immediately took notice of.
“Told you she’s the best. Just wait until it’s your birthday. She bakes you a cake.” Lando told Oscar.
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The entire grid was together for their drivers briefing early in the morning. After going over every detail of the upcoming Grand Prix, the race director decided to let the drivers voice their concerns.
“Does anyone have any questions?”
Y/n raised her hand. “I wanna know who banned the pit wall celebration.”
“Anyone else?”
“Yeah, I’d like to know as well.” Lewis added.
“We can discuss pit wall celebrations at a later time. Excuse me, I am needed somewhere else.” The race director excused himself.
“Don’t worry, I don’t care about being banned. I’ll be there like a proud mom taking millions of pictures of you when you win.” Y/n whispered to Lewis as she layed her head on his shoulder.
“And I’ll be doing the same when you win.” Lewis replied.
“What about when I win? I also want millions of pictures taken of me and the exact same chocolate cake you baked for me for my birthday a year ago. Extra sprinkles please.” Lando smiled innocently.
“Fine, win first then I’ll bake. Shouldn’t be that hard unless you got a tractor for a car.” Y/n teased. “I love you, Lando. Of course I’ll take millions of pictures of you when you win.”
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It was a perfect day to race in Silverstone. Like always, Lando had his family in attendance. He was in the mclaren garage when he spotted Y/n on one of the tvs being interviewed by Lissie.
“Hey, that’s my grid mum!” He told his engineer as if his engineer didn’t already know. His smile quickly faded when a blonde man appeared behind Y/n in sunglasses. Lando then watched as the man’s name appeared on the tv.
Charlie Hunnam, actor.
Who was he and why was he with his grid mom?
“Hey, that’s the dude from Sons of Anarchy! My wife watches that series.” Lando heared someone say. He continued to watch the screen as Lissie asked Charlie a question about Y/n.
“She’s incredible, absolutely amazing. I’m happy I finally get to see her talent in person.” Charlie replied, smiling at Y/n which made her blush.
“He’s British . . ” he mumbled.
After Lissie thanked Y/n and Charlie for the interview, the camera kept rolling on them as they walked away. That’s when Lando saw Charlie hold Y/n’s hand then pressed a kiss to the back of it.
“She’s dating a British man and she didn’t tell me?!”
Lando immediately walked out the garage and straight to the Porsche garage. He had a strong feeling Y/n would be showing her new lover around so he started there. He soon spotted the couple talking with the Porsche team principal, Adam.
“Oh, hey Lando! I was about to look for you. I want you to meet Charlie.” Y/n excused herself from Adam and introduced Charlie to her grid son.
“It’s very nice to meet you, mate. Y/n had told me a lot about you.” Charlie smiled.
“Yeah, I’ve heard nothing about you. Nada, zero, not a single thing, zilch.” Lando then turned his attention to Y/n. “I think we need to talk.”
“Okay . . ” Y/n said confused as she turned to Charlie to tell him she would be right back. Lando took her hand and dragged her to a corner away from Charlie. “Lando! What’s wrong? Are you nervous about today?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend?”
Oh.
“You always tell me everything and now I kinda feel betrayed. Especially when i also found out he’s British!” Lando said dramatically.
“Lando, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but it just sorta happened. We met a few months ago and he’s made me the happiest ever since. I wanted to introduce you properly today.” Y/n explained.
“He makes you happy? Like genuinely happy? Because if he doesn’t I will run him over repeatedly.” Lando warned.
Y/n laughed and brought Lando in for a hug. “I know you would, but there’s no need for that. I think he’s the one.”
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“Before you leave, there’s actually one more gift for you and you don’t have to guess who it’s from.”
Logan was confused, but happily accepted the gift. It was the annual F1 secret santa and he had just finished unwrapping his present. A gift wrapped perfectly with a blue bow was placed in front of him. The tag read ‘From Y/n’ in neat handwriting.
“Thank you, Y/n! I don’t even want to open it, it’s wrapped so good.” Logan chuckled.
Every year, anyone who got a nicely wrapped gift knew it was from Y/n. And any year that someone new entered the season, Y/n would give them a gift during secret santa. She did it for Lando, George, Alex, Charles, Yuki and Guanyu when they were rookies and now she was doing it for Logan and Oscar. She had even sent Nyck a present as well, she wished he was in the paddock doing secret santa as well though.
“Okay, I’ll open it, I’m too curious.” Logan finally unwrapped the present and saw it was a Miami Heat jersey singed by LeBron James. Logan almost freaked out when he saw the signature.
“Holy shit! Wait sorry, I can’t curse, but holy shit!” He took the jersey out of the box and admired it. “This is incredible.”
“You love it?” He heard the familiar comforting voice of Y/n from behind him. “I hope it’s the right size.” She joined Logan in front of the camera.
“It is, don’t worry,” he chuckled as he gave her a hug. “Thank you so much, I love it.”
“I think you just adopted another son.” The camera man told her.
“I love all my grid sons equally.”
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buckyalpine · 7 months
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Choices (Bucky version)
So you all know the fic choices and choices 2 with a cheating Bucky and sweetheart Steve. I couldn't help myself, I decided to also have a version where Steve is the cheater and reader ends up with Bucky. I'm such a Bucky girl, it cannot be helped. It's the same fic with a few details added to suit the character changes, reversed roles and all in one part.
18 + minors dni 
Steve x reader, Bucky x reader
Warnings: ANGST, cheating, Steve is a dick, SMUT, fluff, Bucky is a sweetheart
“Fuck you taste good sweets” 
Your stomach dropped, cold sweat erupting over your body, hearing your husband’s voice and a woman’s moans from your bedroom. You’d suspected it for a while but it couldn’t be true, he wouldn’t. 
You quietly opened the door, slapping your hand over your mouth over the sight in front of you, Steve’s head buried between some woman’s legs, her thighs thrown over his shoulders as he held her open with his thick arms, groaning as he ate her out. She cried in pleasure, tugging his hair forcing his face in deeper, their clothes thrown on the floor, her bra carelessly tossed on the framed wedding picture you had on the bedside table. 
You couldn’t move, rooted on the spot as he pried her legs apart further, making her back arch, his tongue assaulting her clit, flicking and swirling circles around it, his hips grinding his cock into the mattress, moaning. 
“Best fucking pussy ever baby, can’t get enough of you, could cum just from your taste baby fuck”
You felt light headed, leaning against the hallway to catch yourself, slipping onto the floor, unable to leave even if you wanted to. You pressed your hands to your mouth, desperately trying to silence your cries. 
“Oh god Steve FUCK, push your tongue in me baby, just like that, fuck just like that Captain”  You could hear the wet slapping of his tongue, her voice screaming higher as he made her cum with his mouth. 
“C'mon cum for me baby, want it all over my face, oh god m’gonna cum just rubbing myself like this, no one else gets me off like you, FUCK sweets, AH-” 
His moans caused your heart to splinter, the aftermath of their affair slowly winding down to labored breaths and messy sheets. You lifted your head slightly, seeing Steve pull her into his arms, making out with her, his face covered in her slick, his cock softening against his abs. Their tongues tangled, moaning into each others mouths as he pulled the covers up, his arms wrapping around her. 
“You’re wife will be home soon, I should get going baby” She traced shapes onto his chest as he pulled her hand, pressing a kiss onto her palm.  “No, stay just a little longer, 5 minutes sweets, please?” 
The slight whine in his voice begging her to stay make you nearly throw up. Your body felt like it was filled with cement, hearing the woman giggle, snuggling to up with your husband. 
“Hmm, does she make you feel good like I do, handsome?”
“Nothing compares to you darling, don’t worry about her” He murmured with a light chuckle, leaning into her touch while she stroked his beard. "Wish we had a little longer"
She sighed, grabbing her bra off your wedding picture, scoffing at it. 
“You could do better you know, she doesn’t seem like you’re type”
“I do know” Steve sat up, kissing her shoulder as she strapped her bra on “I got you pretty girl, I’ll see you tonight?"
"Won't your wife ask where you're going" The woman had the audacity to sound annoyed though what killed you the most was the way Steve groaned in agreement.
"Don't worry about her, I’ll come over, okay?” 
“Wouldn’t miss it baby, see you later Cap” 
Your heart shattered, sprinting away from the room, down the hall and out the door, sobs wracking your body.
He promised.
He whispered vow’s he’d written just for you. You’d loved him with your entire being, cradling him, taking care of him, pouring your heart and soul into everything that had to do with him.
You already knew the excuse he'd give. He’d say he had a rough day and would avoid you until tomorrow. He’d go to the bar for a drink to unwind, needing alone time and you’d let him because you wanted to give him space. He’d go over to her place, and make love to her for countless hours into the night, seeking the comfort of someone else.
Your love wasn’t enough.  
-
You left the house, immediately getting into your car, driving mindlessly with no particular destination in mind. Your chest heaved, tears blurring your vision as you pulled into an empty parking lot, breaking down again. You sat there for well over an hour, your entire body burning, a ding from your phone interrupting your thoughts. You checked your phone, scoffing at the text message from your husband.
“Going out tonight, don’t stay up.” 
You screamed in frustration thinking about every time you fell asleep on the couch waiting for him, the countless hours of sleep you lost worried about him, calling and texting him throughout the night, wondering if he was okay. The number of times he brushed you off, telling you not to be so clingy. You’d put in so much of your love and affection for this man who didn’t have the decency to tell you to your face he didn’t love you anymore.
The entire world looked up to this man as their hero, Captain America, a symbol of justice, hope, fairness and he couldn't care less to at least respect your dignity and leave.
You felt a surge of anger, how dare he!? Bring another woman into your home, into your bed, your sheets, wrapped around her naked body, her fucking clothes thrown all over the floor. How many times would you have slept in the very same bed after he warmed it with her?!
You could do the same.
You pulled into the drive way, making your way up the stairs, knocking on the front door.
“Y/n? Its late, is everything okay? Is Steve okay?”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes, walking into the house, kicking your shoes off. Poor Bucky, always worrying about his best friend, just like you, concerned for his well being, coddling him like a baby. What a fucking waste.
“He’s great actually. He’s currently buried balls deep in someone else”
Bucky choked, staring at you wide eyed as you sauntered around the living room, mindlessly looking at framed pictures he had up, including one from your wedding.
“What?!”
“Mhm, you didn’t know? A red head. Saw them both today, in our bedroom. He was so pussy whipped he didn’t even realize I came home. In fact did you know the great Captain who constantly tells people to mind their language swears like a sailor when he's fucking someone's brains out”
“Fuck, I told him not to- FUCK. I’m so sorry y/n, I didn’t think he’d ever cheat on you”
“You told him not to what?” You turned around, your expression unreadable as you stood in front of Bucky, his face flushed as he looked at the floor before looking at you.
“He’d- fuck- He’d always flirt when we went out. I told him to stop but he said wasn't even doing anything. I thought it was him still adjusting to all the attention but he used to do it in the 40's too. I thought maybe he didn't even realize what he was doing so it was harmless”
You scoffed, shaking your head as Bucky stepped forward, wrapping his thick arms around you. “I’m so sorry doll, I should have stepped in”
“You can step in now”
“What?”
Bucky pulled back, blinking down at you, looking confused as you smirked, trailing your fingers along his chest, going up to play with the dog tags that rested against his chest.
“Step in now James”, You tugged at his chain, his breath hitching in his throat as your lips brushed by his ear “Make it go away”
You could feel his cock stir as you pressed your body on his. Bucky had always had a crush on you. Of course he never acted on it, you were his best friends wife. But here you were, offering yourself on a silver platter, he’d be a fool to say no. Still…
“Y/n” He squeezed his eyes, hoping some blood would return to his brain, his cock aching in his jeans. “We can’t”
“And why’s that?”
“It’s wrong” Bucky's words didn’t  match his actions as he gripped onto your hips, pulling you flush against him, his boner rubbing against you, it was so wrong but it felt so right.
“Tell me you never thought about it?” Your hands trailed down to palm over his length as he groaned, resting his forehead on yours “about us? You never thought about how I’d look spread out on your bed, saying your name instead of his?”
"Y/n"
"Make me forget, Sergeant"
Fuck it.
You screamed out in pleasure chanting Bucky’s name like a prayer, his cock splitting you in half, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you. Bucky chuckled at your fucked out state, pausing for a moment to let you rest before the next round.
*3 missed calls*
He returned with a bottle of water and some strawberries, feeding you one as you tossed your phone carelessly to the side.
“What’s wrong doll”
“Ugh, he called”
Bucky thought for a moment before grabbing your phone and propping it up, a wicked smile on his face.
“You wanna show him what’s keeping you busy?”
-
You both woke to a loud banging on the door; your body too sore to bother moving.
“BUCKY OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR”
Bucky yawned, wrapping his arms around you tighter, pulling a pillow above his head.
"I think your husband is here" He sleepily mumbled, tucking his face into your neck, the scruff of his beard tickling your skin.
"He's your best friend" You mumbled back, burrowing yourself further into his hold, ignoring the incessant knocking.
“Y/N, I KNOW YOU’RE FUCKING THERE, GET THE FUCK OUT NOW”
Bucky rolled his eyes, his semi hard cock pressing into your ass making you giggle.
“Someone’s happy this morning”
“All for you baby”
You heard the banging get louder.
“BUCKY, Y/N FUCK”
“Should we get that?”
“5 more minutes”
*36 missed calls*
*47 unopened messages*
Oh, this was going to be good.
Bucky groaned, tucking you in the sheets before getting out of bed and pulling some sweats on.
“Y/N, I KNOW YOU’RE THERE”
He rolled his eyes, sauntering over to the door, opening it to a raging Steve, his chest heaving, sweat dripping down his face, the knuckles of his right hand bloodied and bruised. Someone’s upset.
“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU DOING”
Bucky smirked, his chin glistening, licking your arousal that was still on his lips from mere seconds ago. He made a show of sucking your taste off his fingers, humming in satisfaction.  
“Sorry, just woke u-
“Where the fuck is she?!”
Steve shoved Bucky aside, stomping up the stairs making his way to the bedroom, only to be grabbed back and pushed against the wall.
“Don’t do this, where the fuck is my wife” Steve’s voice was low, chest rumbling as his fists clenched at his sides, trying to collect himself.
“You remember you have a wife?” Bucky cocked an eyebrow, dodging Steve’s fist and catching it with his metal arm before slamming him against the wall.
“How the FUCK COULD YOU SLEEP WITH HER?!” Steve spat, unable to scrub the images of you moaning for his best friend, your legs wrapped tightly around him, crying out in pleasure, begging for more. He couldn’t rid himself of the way you looked slobbering over Bucky’s cock and balls, looking up at the camera with doe eyes, moaning when he came in your mouth, sticking your tongue out to show you swallowed it all like a good girl. You made a show of letting Bucky rail you from behind, screaming his name while he tugged your hair and pushed you down, spanking your ass raw. His dog tags hung between your breasts as he tugged and rolled your nipples between his fingers.
The words were so much worse.
"Come on, ride your Sergeants cock babydoll, that's it, so fuckin' good for me"
"Cock's too big Jamie, hurts"
Your breathy, whiny voice made Steve want to throw up, your lip chewed raw, eyes unfocused.
"Awww, is it too big? So cockdrunk for me princess, I got you love, c'mhere, y'like that? Like when I'm on top my pretty girl, I'll make you feel good baby"
"Gonna be the death of me gorgeous, wouldn't give you up for the world, you hear me? Gonna cum in your princess, can't hold it, you're perfect-FUCK"
“HOW COULD YOU CHEAT ON HER!?” Bucky’s grip tightened, feeling rage, disappointment, but also a tinge of arrogance; now he had you and he wasn’t going to let you go.
Steve swallowed thickly, no longer resisting, letting his arms drop to his side. He stared at the floor, guilt and sadness washing over him.
“How could you cheat on her” Bucky’s voice was soft now, genuinely upset over his friends actions. He let Steve go, both men standing in the hallway, the air thick with tension.
“It was a mistake”
“You brought someone else into your home, into your bed, you picked someone else over y/n, what else did you expect her to do”
Steve felt his heart race, he couldn’t lose you like this, he made impulsive choices but you were the one who always believed in him. He started towards the bedroom door again before Bucky grabbed his hand stopping him.
“I want to see her” His eyes were pleading but Bucky shook his head.
“She saw you, you know. That’s why she came here” Steve looked up at Bucky in shock, his eyes wide, he felt like he was going to throw up. Bucky scoffed looking at Steve’s pained expression.
“Just get out”
“Bucky just let me see her-
“Don’t”
Steve’s emotions were running a thousand miles a minute, jealously, anger, guilt, sadness. He drove straight to her house, needing to fuck his pain away, spiraling as he sped down the streets. He went up to her apartment, knocking at the door, hearing another voice behind the door before she opened it.
“Steve? I- what are you doing here, I- it’s not a good time” She kept the door a crack open, without letting him in, her eyes shifting nervously.
“Baby, everything okay?” A man’s voice called her from behind. She nodded, mumbling something to him before stepping into the hallway.
“What the fuck?!”
“SHH, my husband is inside!”
“You said you weren’t together any more”
“I-it’s nothing”
“How the fuck could you” Steve felt his chest tighten, he shouldn’t have even come here, he shouldn’t have been in this position in the first place, it was you in his heart, he loved you.
She scoffed. “You cheated on your wife with me and I’m supposed to hold out for you and expect you to be loyal to me too?”
Steve left without saying another word, anger surging through his body, rage flowing in his veins. How the fuck could he stray from you, he pushed you away every time you tried to take care of him. He took advantage of your kindness, took advantage of how much you trusted him. He couldn’t lose you but you were in his best friend’s arms and Bucky would never do what he did.
The house was utterly destroyed. Anything that came into his hand was shattered against the wall as Steve took all his anger out in the house. Why the fuck did he act so impulsively, how could he let you see that, why the fuck did he let someone else into his life when you were his whole heart.
He stepped into the bedroom, not wanting to touch a single thing that would take away from your presence; he wanted things to be exactly how you left them. He looked at the wedding picture on the table, breaking down into sobs; you were smiling up at him, your eyes bright, looking at him with so much affection. He had his arm around you waist, he promised to love and protect you for as long as he lived. He called you his angel, he told you he’d never hurt you and here he was.
Steve nearly threw up looking at the bed. The sheets were still tangled from that afternoon, pillows thrown aside. He washed them repeatedly, his stomach churning when he could still smell her on them.
Steve thought he was losing his mind, the coldness of the bed. The silence of the house. He could no longer smell your soft scent on the sheets, nightmares plagued his mind. His chest ached thinking about how broken you would have felt seeing him, how meaningless the entire affair was to him and it took away the one thing in his life that gave him a reason to live.
A week later
“Just sign them Steve”
“Baby please don’t do this”
You sighed in frustration having spent hours arguing with Steve as he refused to sign the divorce papers.
“You made your choice, I’m making mine”
“It was a mistake y/n, I- I can’t fucking exist without you-
“You should have thought about that before you fucked someone else in our bed Steve”
“Don’t call me that!” He pleaded with you, hating the way his name sounded, you never called him Steve.
You shook your head, getting up and leaving him with the papers as he cried after you, begging for you to stay.
“Goodbye Steve”
6 months later
You had packed your things, staying with Sarah for the time being until you found your own place. Steve was drinking himself into oblivion, unable to even get drunk from the dark liquid. He hadn’t slept in the bedroom since, staying on the couch instead.
Bucky let himself in the house; not like Steve bothered to lock it any more.
“You have to stop”
Steve scoffed bitterly, taking another swing from his glass, finishing another bottle of whisky.
“Easy for you to say”
Steve felt a pang of anger in his chest, he had no right to be mad at you or Bucky but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t find peace, keeping a sweater you left behind with him when he tried to sleep, crying into it every night.
“Don’t. She loved you”
"But I still love her"
Bucky shook his head, a part of him feeling bad for Steve. He tried so hard to win you back, but the damage was done. The image was burnt in your mind, nothing would ever take that away. You tried to give him one chance but the second he touched you, your mind flashed to the way he touched her. You couldn’t. It was over.
“How is she”
“Doing better. Not great, but better”
3 Years later
You fixed you veil, holding onto your bouquet of flowers as you made your way down the aisle. He stood there, waiting for you, soft blue eyes brimming with tears as he watched you, his chestnut hair combed back, beard trimmed.
“You look amazing y/n” The best man gave you a teasing wink, smiling as you took your place in front of your soon to be husband.  
“Thanks Sam” You grinned,  feeling your face heat up as Bucky lifted your veil, a stray tear slipping out as he look your hands in his, his voice cracking, hardly above a whisper.
“I love you”
***
“You may kiss the bride”
You giggled as Bucky gently cupped your face, pulling you into the sweetest loving kiss, everyone in the crowd clapping and cheering, your heart fluttering with happiness. You were so in love with him; you thought you knew what love and happiness was before but nothing compared to this. This moment; so pure, so full of love.
***
Bucky held you close to him, his hands on your waist as you both swayed to your first dance as husband and wife. His hand tipped your chin up, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips; he was so utterly and deeply in love with you.
“You look gorgeous tonight Mrs. Barnes”
You giggled shyly, taking his hand in yours as the song came to an end. You made your way through the crowd, greeting guests,
“Congratulations, I’m happy for you” Steve smiled softly looking at you in Bucky’s arms. He wanted to mean what he said but his heart was still in pain. He had you and he let you go. He wanted to feel happy for you, happy for Bucky but it was too much. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, blinking back tears as you looked up at Bucky, in pure happiness.
“Thanks punk” Bucky gave him a quick hug, keeping you by his side as you both continued to greet guests.
“They’re so sweet” Sarah giggled watching you both sneak quick kisses, Bucky whispering something in your ear making you gasp before playfully slapping his chest. Steve felt his chest tighten, getting up and leaving the room, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe.
He closed his eyes. He remembered the way you looked at him when you walked down the aisle. The way you looked so angelic in your dress. The way you danced together for the first time, your arms draped around his shoulders, his hands holding you close. The pure love he felt for you, he told himself he’d never let you cry. All the times he stopped trying because you had enough love for the both of them. He remembered the day he met her.  He hesitated but gave into his desires, the side of him that need to feel wanted by others, thinking you were with him because you loved him but he needed more. To be desired. And now here he was. He’d never be able to love again; it’d never be the same. He had the one person that would love him unconditionally and he threw it all away.
“You gotta let her go” Sam broke Steve out of his spiral, patting his shoulder lightly, giving him a sympathetic smile. “C’mon, I’ll take you home”
Steve sighed, as he watched longingly. The shy smiles, gentle touches, whispering sweet nothings to each other, he’d never get you back. You’d found your forever, your happy ending.
-
"M'always gonna love you, you have my heart" Bucky whispered against your shoulder, his bare skin pressed against yours as you both caught your breath. His fingers gently grazed your scalp, kissing your forehead, a part of him still wondering if it was all a dream.
The woman he loved so dearly under him while he made love to her on their wedding night.
Her soft thighs wrapped around his waist.
Her moans of pleasure all just for him.
All of his spend filling her up time and time again until he had no more to give.
It was all too perfect, too much too-
"And you have mine" You whispered back, draping your arms around your husbands shoulders, your hand snaking up to card your fingers through his hair, "I love you too"
And just like that it was all perfect.
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starlightkun · 2 months
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❥・word count: 17.2k ❥・warnings: cursing, suggestive but no smut (i think that tag is on all my sungchan fics at this point), also i do talk about biting him probably too much, there’s one scene where i have to refer to distance and i use miles im sorry it’s the filthy american in me (convert to km if you must but it’s really not that important) ❥・genre: meet-ugly (like a meet-cute but bad), strangers to lovers, fluff and more fluff good god, forced proximity trope (long car trip, friend group vacation in a cabin, etc.) ❥・author’s note: send help the sungchan brainrot is terminal
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“I just don’t trust people that are that hot—Sorry.”
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“Are you going to the cabin next week?” Karina asked you, refilling her drink as the two of you chatted in the kitchen of Donghyuck and Mark’s place. The former was throwing a “small get-together” tonight for his birthday, which was already shaping up to be more like the parties you’d attended in undergrad. He’d also invited a hopefully actually small number of your closer friends to spend two weeks in his family’s cabin starting the following Friday.
“Yeah, I’ll be there,” you nodded, opening the fridge to nose around in there for something to mix with your alcohol.
“Do you know who all he invited?”
“I think the usual, right?” You had secured some cranberry juice and seltzer, and brought them back out triumphantly. “Didn’t he text the details to everyone in a group chat? Check who’s in it.”
“Let me see…” She muttered, scrolling through her phone. “You, me, Hyuck, Mark, Ning, Jeno, Jaemin, Shotaro, Anton…”
“Unless it’s a mansion in the woods, it sounds like half of us will be sleeping on the floor,” you scoffed.
“There’s one person in here that I don’t have saved.” She frowned. “Do you?”
You looked at it on your own phone. “There’s two people I don’t have saved. One of them must be Anton, I just met him the other day when Taro brought him around to… whatever, I don’t even remember now.”
“I don’t have the 512 number.”
You saved the other unknown number as Anton. “I don’t have the 512 number either.”
Karina giggled. “Mysterious.”
“Probably another guy Hyuck and Mark met playing pickup.” You shrugged, following her back out to the living room. “I feel like that’s how they meet all their new friends these days.”
“Rina! Y/N!” Ningning suddenly appeared in front of the two of you, grabbing your other friend’s wrist. “Come dance with me!”
Karina looked over at you. “Y/N?”
“Just topped up.” You lifted your drink. “Maybe later. Have fun, guys.”
As they disappeared into the middle of the room, you drifted off to the side, finding a wall to lean against. You took slow sips of your drink, eyes passing over the crowd. You didn’t mind standing by yourself until either your friends were done dancing and found you again, or you spotted someone you’d rather talk to before then.
“Y/N!” Your voice was called from behind you, and you turned around to greet the birthday boy with a wide smile.
“Hyuck!” You went to hug him. “I feel like I haven’t seen you all night!”
“Because you’ve been hiding in the kitchen,” he teased. “I think this is the first time I’ve actually seen you out here.”
You rolled your eyes as you drew back from the hug. “Whatever, I’m here now. Are you having a good birthday?”
“Great!” He beamed. It was then that you noticed he had someone with him, a tall guy hovering awkwardly behind him. Donghyuck went to introduce him, “This is Sungchan, by the way. He also lives in the complex; Mark and I met him playing pickup.”
Of course.
“Sungchan, this is my friend Y/N,” Hyuck then gestured to you.
You nodded to him politely. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too,” he smiled back, a bright, heart-stopping smile. You held onto your drink a little tighter, with both hands.
“Hey! Renjun!” Donghyuck suddenly yelled out. “No killing people on the premises! Choke Jisung outside!”
He took off into the crowd, leaving you with his new friend.
“Anyway, it was nice to meet you, Jungchan, but I’ve got to find my friends.” You slipped away before he could say anything else.
Karina and Ningning were still dancing, and while you briefly debated joining them, you decided against it, heading back to your safe haven instead: the kitchen. It was blissfully empty when you got in there, and you started picking at the bowls of snacks mindlessly.
“That was incredible.” Someone snickered, startling you into dropping a chip onto the floor.
You picked it up, glowering at the newcomer as you went to go throw away the ruined chip into the garbage can. “What are you talking about, Anton?”
“His name is Sungchan, by the way.” He was still laughing, hopping up onto the counter by the bowls of snacks. “Not Jungchan. I happened to have been lucky enough to have overheard that.”
“Oops.” You said flatly, well aware that you didn’t sound very sorry.
“But I’m totally going to use that.”
“You know him from pickup basketball too, I presume?”
“Yup.” He tossed a cheeseball up and caught it in his mouth. “He’s not very good at shooting, but he’s tall, so he’s alright at guarding.”
“Good for him. Or not, I don’t know.”
“So let’s say, hypothetically, I was eavesdropping on the entire conversation—”
“Hypothetically.”
“Of course.” He grinned. “He said like two words to you, and they were barely even hello. Why did you run away like that?”
You sighed, topping off your drink again. After taking a sip, musing over how best to phrase it, you finally decided on, “I just don’t trust people that are that hot—Sorry.”
Anton cocked his head curiously at you. “Who hurt you?”
“Nobody, god.” You rolled your eyes. “You’re so fucking dramatic and for what?”
“Fun and profit, mostly.”
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“You hurt Sungchan’s feelings,” Donghyuck declared, blotting out the sun above you.
You closed your book on your thumb to deal with this. You had been reclining on a chair at your apartment complex’s pool reading in peace when your friend appeared out of nowhere. Outside the pool fence you could see his roommate, and two more of your mutual friends, Jaemin and Jeno. Jeno had a basketball under his arm, which made sense, the courts were right next to the pool, they were probably already heading there when they saw you and decided to detour over here to… interrogate you? Harass you?
“Who? What? When?” You squinted up at Donghyuck in confusion.
“My friend. Last night.”
“The tall one? How? Because I didn’t want to talk about the weather or whatever with him?”
“Apologize,” he demanded, crossing his arms. “And get his name right this time. It’s Sungchan. Not Jungchan.”
You scoffed, sitting up straighter in your chair. “This is exactly what I was telling Anton last night, you know. I don’t trust people that are that hot because even if they don’t do anything to abuse their hotness directly, or on purpose, other people will just do things for them anyway.”
“He’s the nicest person I know. Hotness be damned. Apologize.”
“No.”
“Really? This is the moral hill that you’re willing to die on?”
“Yup.”
“You’re a true martyr, Y/N,” Hyuck said sarcastically. “The Second Coming herself.”
“The nicest person you know? Really?” You questioned doubtfully.
“Really. And you were mean to him,” Donghyuck confirmed.
“Including Shotaro?”
“Including Taro.”
“Mark?”
“Mark’s my best friend. Doesn’t mean he’s the nicest person I know,” he retorted.
“Jeno?”
“Literally saw him steal candy from a baby yesterday.”
You blinked. “Wait, seriously?”
“Jisung. Same thing.”
“I’m not apologizing to your friend,” you declared, opening your book again.
“This is the stupidest line you’ve drawn in the sand yet.”
“I’m not going out and bullying him! All I said was that I don’t trust hot people!”
“Flaw in your logic: You’re friends with me,” he pointed out smugly.
“Think on that one again, Hyuck,” you replied snidely, looking down at your book as if you were trying to get back to reading.
“Rude.” He looked back at the other three guys waiting for him, apparently getting an idea. “What about Jeno? He’s like, ridiculously good-looking.”
“I like him just fine. I just don’t trust him, or what people will do for him because he’s stupidly attractive,” you argued.
“It sounds exhausting to be you,” he huffed, turning on his heel and leaving the pool deck.
Later that afternoon, you pulled yourself up out of the pool, heading back towards your chair. Grabbing your towel, you wrapped it around yourself to start drying off before heading back to your apartment. You saw someone walking towards you out of the corner of your eye as you were digging through your bag for your phone.
“Hi.” It was Donghyuck’s tall friend from last night, in workout gear rather than swim trunks. Obviously not here to use the pool.
“Hi.” You wiped a drop of water off your phone screen that had fallen from your nose onto it.
“Do you have a second?”
“Sure.”
He scratched the back of his neck as he focused an apologetic smile on you. “Did I do something or say something? At Donghyuck’s place? Because I’m really—”
“No.”
“—sorry if I did—Wait what?” The smile dropped from his face.
“You didn’t do anything or say anything. You were perfectly nice,” you answered honestly.
“Then it really was what you told Anton?” He asked in disbelief.
Of course, Anton must have told him what you said.
“Look, Sungchan, I’m sorry, I just don’t trust really attractive guys right off the bat.”
“I haven’t done anything to earn your distrust other than—”
“—other than being hot, yeah.” You shrugged. “Even if you really are nice, intentionally or not, people treat you differently just by virtue of you being stupidly hot. Gets in your head, whether you think it has or not.”
“You don’t know me.”
“Not at all.”
“How are you any different then?”
“Different than who?”
“You say that people treat me differently because I’m, in your words, ‘stupidly hot.’” He put the phrase air quotes. “That’s exactly what you’re doing right now.”
“How am I treating you different by not immediately falling at your feet? I don’t do that for average looking guys either.”
“That’s not what I’m asking you to do.”
“Was I rude to you last night? Bitchy? Outright mean or nasty?” You ticked the adjectives off on your fingers. “No, the most you can accuse me of was being a bit curt. And getting your name wrong, that really was my bad.”
He was quiet for a moment, and you took the opportunity to slip your sandals back on and shoulder your tote bag.
“Look, you’re not entitled to my time, attention, or to me,” you told him firmly.
“I didn’t say I was,” he said immediately, his brow furrowing.
“You’ve taken it as a personal affront that I didn’t want to idly chitchat with you last night.”
“I’m just… confused,” Sungchan sighed.
“You’re nice to look at, I’m sure you’re not a complete dud to talk to, it’s probably not torture to make small talk with you at a party. So people do,” you tried to walk him through it. “But it’s not mean for someone to not want to talk to you.”
He was silent again, that same pensive, troubled look on his face, and you found yourself in better spirits than you had been last night.
“This was fun. I would say we should do it again, but I’m afraid I would make you cry and then Hyuck would be really mad at me.” You chuckled, grabbing your keys from your bag. “So, goodbye, Sungchan.”
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You were relaxed on your couch that night with a tub of ice cream when a violent banging came at your front door. Pausing the movie you were watching, you rushed to answer it, thinking that it must be the police, or some other kind of emergency. Instead, it was Donghyuck and Mark. You looked at Donghyuck incredulously, the one who had been doing the knocking.
“What is your fucking problem?” He said in lieu of a greeting, throwing his hands up in the air in disbelief.
“What did I do now? Allegedly?” You matched his tone, watching as he started pacing your entryway.
“You know what you did.” Mark was calmer, reminding you of a disappointed parent as he looked at you, his hands on his hips.
“You broke him!” Donghyuck declared.
“Who—Oh, Sungchan?” You finally connected the dots.
“Who else’s soul have you ripped out of their chest and stomped on today?”
“He sought me out,” you defended yourself, crossing your arms.
“And you couldn’t have been a human being and talked to him?”
“We talked. From what you’re saying, it sounds like he didn’t like what I had to say.”
“He’s catatonic!”
“You’re being dramatic.”
“Only slightly. But he’s not well.”
You scoffed, “If one conversation with me is enough to make him spiral, sounds like he had some other stuff going on before I opened my mouth.”
“So you refuse to take responsibility? For any of this?” Donghyuck regarded you wide, crazed eyes, looking like he was at the end of his rope.
“You’re asking me to what? Fix him?” You snorted in disbelief. “I don’t Mommy grown men, sorry.”
“You are infuriating.” He pointed at you accusatorily. “The party I could’ve let slide—”
“No you couldn’t have, you found me literally the next day demanding that I apologize for not wanting to talk to him,” you spat back.
“Not for that! I’m not going to hold a gun to your head and force you to make small talk with him,” he groaned. “I meant the stuff you were telling Anton, in the kitchen. He heard you.”
“All I said was that I don’t trust people that are that hot. Nothing to have a goddamn mental breakdown over!”
“And he wouldn’t have, if you had just, I don’t know, apologized for the misunderstanding and moved on! But no, you have to take everything to this moral extreme! Honestly, I’m finding it hard to remember what’s even likeable about you in the first place right now,” Donghyuck ranted, running his hands through his hair.
“Hyuck, that was a bit far,” Mark finally spoke up again, stepping forward.
“You really want to die on this hill, Y/N?” Donghyuck just went around his roommate, looking you in the eye. “Then fine. Don’t bother coming on the trip.”
“Hyuck, man, come on—” Mark called after him, but Donghyuck had already stormed out of your apartment.
You watched the empty doorway after him, chest heaving as all the words you’d exchanged finally caught up to you. Looking to your friend that you had been left with, you asked quietly, “Do you think I'm in the wrong, Mark?”
He tilted his head back and forth regretfully. “I think… you’re being a bit abrasive.”
“You agree with Hyuck,” you deadpanned.
“Not entirely. I don’t think he should’ve been throwing Sungchan at you so hard. He should’ve known you weren’t going to take it well, which is probably why he did it in such a weird way.”
“What?”
“He was trying to set you up with Sungchan. But knowing how… you… are, he thought he had to do it with some uh, ‘finesse.’” Mark shrugged one shoulder. “Sungchan wasn’t all that hurt after the party, really. A bit bummed that you brushed him off, sure, but he would’ve bounced back. He’s hard to knock down, literally and metaphorically. Hyuck demanded that you go ‘apologize’ to him so that you’d talk to him again. Same thing with Sungchan talking to you at the pool today, Hyuck told him to.”
“Does Sungchan know that Hyuck’s been trying to set us up this whole time?”
“I’m pretty sure.”
“So to him, this has been Hyuck setting him up with, apparently, the biggest bitch he knows,” you winced. No wonder he was so confused earlier.
“I mean…” Mark trailed off sheepishly. “He should’ve told you.”
“And I should’ve been fucking normal,” you groaned, rubbing your face.
“An argument can be made for that, yes.”
“What apartment is Sungchan in?”
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According to Mark, Sungchan went on a jog every morning at 8:00, and was usually back by 10:00, so you made sure to knock on his front door at 10:15, just in case.
Sungchan opened the door, wiping sweat from his face with a towel as he spoke, “Anton, I thought we agreed on eleven…”
He trailed off when he opened his eyes and saw who was actually on his doorstep.
“Hi, Sungchan,” you greeted him.
“Oh. Hi, Y/N.” He dropped his hand from his face. In the background, you could hear music playing, and smell food being cooked.
“Uhm, are you busy? I can leave, sorry—”
“No, no, it’s fine.” He stepped back, opening the door wider and gesturing you in. You stepped into his apartment with a polite, grateful nod. It looked like he had been in the middle of making breakfast, a blender out on his counter, various fruits on a cutting board, and ingredients sizzling in a pan. He went to pause the music on his phone, and stirred the food that was in the pan. He pointed to one of the stools that was at the bar attached to the kitchen counter. “Do you want to sit?”
“No, thanks,” you shook your head. Shouldn’t take that long. “I just wanted to apologize. I was abrasive, and shouldn’t have been using you to try to draw some moral line in the sand as part of an argument with my friend.”
Sungchan nodded. “Thanks. You did have a point, about the party. I wasn’t used to people not wanting to talk to me, it was a weird experience. But you’re right, I wasn’t entitled to your time.” He went back to the cutting board, chopping up a banana and depositing it into the blender. “Besides, I’m sure you have guys come up to you all the time and you just want to be left alone. No worries.”
You tilted your head curiously. “Why do you say that?”
“People treat you different when you’re stupidly hot, right?” He shrugged, scooping some blueberries into the blender next.
“I wasn’t talking about myself…”
Sungchan just grinned and shrugged again. “So I guess I’ll see you at Hyuck’s family cabin then?”
“No. I was uninvited,” you informed him quietly.
“What? Why?”
“Because of how… poorly I handled this.”
Sungchan’s eyes widened with horror. “What? That’s crazy. I didn’t ask him—”
“Don’t worry, I totally get why he did it. His choice was between the nicest guy he knows—” you pointed to Sungchan, “—and the biggest bitch he knows—” you then pointed to yourself, “—who is a compulsive vibe-harsher. I’d pick you too.”
“Don’t tell me he called you—”
“My words,” you assured him.
“I’ll talk to him. No way you should be uninvited over a misunderstanding like this.” He flashed you an easy-going smile. “I mean, we’ve already worked it out. No hard feelings, right?”
“Right,” you agreed, offering a small smile back. “But really, Sungchan, you don’t have to. He’ll think I just apologized to you to get invited back on the trip.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Then there we go,” he said as if it were already decided. “I’ll talk to him.”
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[hyuck: you’re un-uninvited]
[hyuck: sungchan will pick you up at 2:00 on friday]
[you: why is he picking me up???]
[hyuck: you’re the only two who need to leave late on friday. the rest of us are heading up in the morning]
[you: i have my own car??]
[hyuck: you’ve got a shitty sedan with 200,000 miles on it that can barely make it over a speed bump. you’re not making it up a mountain]
[hyuck: consider this your exposure therapy]
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Sure enough, Friday at 2:00 p.m., there was a knock at your front door, Sungchan on the other side.
“Hey,” you greeted him, stepping back to grab your small rolling suitcase. “You really didn’t have to come get me, I could’ve met you down at your car.”
“I don’t mind. You need any help with your bags?” He offered, watching you also shoulder a duffel bag as you tried to wedge your memory foam pillow under your other arm.
“Where’s your stuff?” You questioned, noticing his empty hands.
“I already packed it in the car.” He reached for your suitcase, and you willingly let him take it. He held another hand out, and you gave him your duffel bag as well. Without even asking, he picked up the tote that was at your feet, too, leaving you with just your pillow and phone. “You got everything?”
You looked around your apartment, thinking hard. “Mmm… I’m pretty sure.”
“Phone, wallet, keys, charger?”
“Check.”
“Pajamas, toothbrush, toothpaste, other toiletries?”
“Check.”
“Let’s do it,” he grinned, leading the way to the front door.
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[sungchan: picked y/n up! gonna get some gas on our way out of town if anybody has last minute snack requests. eta 5:00 pm!]
[jeno: 👍]
As some of the others’ snack orders came pouring in, you got one text separately.
[hyuck: be. nice.]
After filling up and triple-checking to make sure you had bought everyone’s food, you and Sungchan were back in his car, a modest-size SUV. He plugged his phone in to charge, then handed it to you.
“Here, you navigate.” The directions to the cabin were already pulled up and started.
“Uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You tried to give it back. “I yap and nap.”
“It’s like five turns total for three hours.” He refused to take it back, starting the car and peeling off. “You can be passenger princess all you want. I even know the first two to get onto the highway on my own. Just need the exit number, the road name, and the house number.”
“Oh god, okay…” You sank down into the passenger seat, clutching his phone with two hands.
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“Are you really that nice?” You asked once you had been on the highway for a while. Sungchan and you had been taking turns on aux—right now he had something playing—and there was a comfortable lull in conversation, but you couldn’t help the question that had been nagging at the back of your mind the entire time.
“There is no way for me to answer that and not sound like a dick,” he pointed out. “Either I say no, despite knowing that our mutual friends have apparently hyped up how nice I am to you, in which case it just looks like I’m acting humble. Dick move. Or I say yes, which would make me look like I’m full of myself. Dick move again.”
You looked over at him, feeling the smirk tug at your lips. “You’re fun.”
“Thanks?”
“So if you don’t think you’re that nice, how would you describe yourself?”
“What is this? Speed dating?” He snorted.
“You want to talk about something else? Pick a better topic yourself,” you retorted. “We’re stuck in here for like two more hours.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he quickly went to smooth the conversation over, his tone turning pleasant again. “I just meant… I don’t know how accurate a self-assessment like that would be. Wouldn’t you be biased about yourself? Positive or negative?”
“That’s the fun of it. Even if a person doesn’t describe themselves accurately, understanding how they see themselves can help you understand them a lot better.”
“How would you describe yourself then?”
“I asked you first.” You pointed out. It felt like it had been a long time since you checked the navigation, so you clicked Sungchan’s phone back on to see how much longer you had to go until your exit.
“Fine.” He hummed as he thought. “I like to think I’m… dependable. And a good friend. And patient—”
“That was our exit,” you said abruptly, staring at the constantly refreshing rerouting screen in front of you.
“What?”
“Well, fifty miles ago was our exit…” You winced, watching ‘288’ pass you by. Yours had been 238, apparently. You should’ve known that.
“We missed our exit?” Sungchan clarified.
“Fifty miles back, yeah.”
“And you just decided to tell me?”
“I just noticed! I thought it was 288!” You tried to defend yourself. “I told you not to make me navigate!”
He held a hand out towards you. “Give me the phone.”
“It’s rerouting, I’ll pay attention—”
“Y/N, give me the fucking phone.” His tone was low, with no room for arguing.
You meekly set it in his hand, dropping both your hands in your lap after. He cursed under his breath as he jerked the wheel over, cutting across three lanes of traffic—no turn signal—to narrowly make the next exit. Car horns followed his maneuver, but he ignored them.
“I’m sorry…” You muttered, unable to take the suffocating silence anymore. It was either apologize or tuck and roll, which was honestly still an option at this point.
“Text everyone, let them know we’ll be late,” Sungchan demanded, knuckles red and white around the wheel.
“Okay.” You scrambled to pull out your own phone. “What time should I tell them?”
“Eight.”
You gaped. “Three hours?!”
“Yes, Y/N, we’re on the other side of the fucking mountain now!” He finally snapped and raised his voice, and your eyes went wide. “We can’t just drive through it to get there!”
You took a deep breath, holding his eye contact for a tense, strangling moment before you looked down at your phone to draft your text.
[you: hey guys! uhm, due to an unfortunate series of events, sungchan and i will be a bit late! new eta 8pm]
[anton: did y’all crash or smth wtf]
Again, a separate text from Donghyuck.
[hyuck: i said be nice not fuck him nasty in the backseat for three hours what is wrong with you]
[you: shut UP]
Back in your vacation group chat, you figured you owed everyone an explanation that alleviated Sungchan of any blame.
[you: completely my fault! i’m apparently the worst navigator ever and we missed our exit :/ ]
[rina: damn y/n maintaining the stereotype that women are bad drivers even when backseat driving]
[ningning: the patriarchy thanks u for ur service queen 🫡]
[jeno: i hate when you guys start joking like this, wtf are we supposed to say without looking like assholes]
[hyuck: pour one out for y/n, it must be so hard holding open the gender pay gap like the doors of a subway car all by herself too]
[mark: bro 😭😭😭]
[you: i wish all of you a very fall down the mountain and die <3]
And one more private text from Donghyuck.
[hyuck: okay that’s how i know you didn’t get dicked down]
[hyuck: damn, you really are bad at reading directions huh]
[you: IM BLOCKING YOU]
Sungchan cleared his throat, and you slowly lowered your phone to look over at him again. He smoothly took a curve on the backroad that you were now on, one lane in each direction, that cut between the mountains with trees jutting up on either side of you.
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Sungchan breathed out, readjusting in his seat. “For yelling at you just now. That’s not… like me.”
“Because you’re so nice?” You couldn’t bite your tongue quick enough, still put off from the spat you’d just had.
“I… guess so,” he sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t know where that came from, honest. I’m really sorry.”
“I told you I shouldn’t navigate.”
“Yeah, I know that now.”
“I’m really, really sorry for missing the exit. I should’ve been paying attention better,” you shouldered the blame that was yours.
“238 and 288 look almost the same. Easy mistake.”
“That added three hours to our drive,” you sighed, leaning your seat back.
“It’s done, no use pointing fingers at each other anymore,” Sungchan shook his head, tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel. “Or yourself.”
“Do you even have enough gas for another three hours? We’re not going to get stuck out here, are we?”
“I’ll stop at the next station I see.”
“How far is the next station?” You mumbled, pulling up your phone to search it up on your own. “Fifty-two miles. How much gas do we have?”
“A hundred miles on the range. See? We’re fine.” Sungchan’s smile dropped off his face right after he said that. “Huh…”
“What?” You sat up as he reached over to put the hazards on and pulled the car off onto the shoulder. “What’s going on?”
“Low tire pressure light,” he frowned. “I checked my tires before I grabbed you from your place. Give me a sec.”
He left the car running as he hopped out, and you watched as he walked around the car, squatting down to inspect each of the tires. Finally, he walked up to your window. You rolled it down to talk to him.
“Back right tire has a nail in it. Slow leak,” he explained. “I’ve got to change it.”
“Aren’t you not supposed to drive spares in certain conditions?” You asked as he reached through the open window to unlock and open the door. “Like on a mountain road or whatever?”
With the door open, he rolled the window back up and reached past you to turn the car off, taking the key out of the ignition. “The road’s paved, it’s not like it’s gravel or anything. I’ll have to drive careful and drive slow on the spare, but it’s either that or we’re stranded out here.”
You eyed the sun that was already descending behind the mountains. “Right. Spare it is.”
“Need you to hold the flashlight if you don’t mind.” He opened the glove box in front of you, rooting around and grabbing a flashlight the length of your forearm.
You accepted it from him. “Got it.”
Sungchan took the tools out of the trunk, as well as the spare tire. He first lifted the car up with the jack, and you became acutely aware of how abandoned the road that you were on really was as not a single other car passed by the entire time. Sungchan stood back up once the car was up to peel off his flannel, tossing it into the trunk with the rest of the tools and the spare waiting to be used.
“Y/N.”
“Huh?” You looked down at where he had gotten back on the ground.
“I need to see the lug nuts, not my arms.”
“Sorry.” You shuffled behind him to be able to point the beam directly on the tire instead of where it had drifted to his mostly bare arms under his t-shirt.
“Much better. Thanks.”
You watched as his hands skillfully unscrewed the lug nuts from the tire with the wrench, holding the first two behind him. “Hold these for me?”
“Oh, sure.” You held your hand out for him to drop them into your palm.
Once you had all five in hand, Sungchan pulled the flat off the car and swapped it out for the spare. You tried not to listen to the darkened forest behind you.
“Lug nuts?” He held his hand up from where he was laying on the ground. You deposited a couple back into his hand for him to screw on at a time.
As he alternated between tightening the nuts and lowering the car down off the jack, you dutifully kept the flashlight pointed on the area he was working on. Finally, the car was back on the ground, and he took the jack out from under it. He rolled the old tire around until he could point out the head of a nail embedded in the tread.
“There’s the little fucker.” Sungchan clicked his tongue before he heaved the tire up into the back. He put away all the tools too, then wiped away beads of sweat that had gathered under his bangs with the hem of his shirt.
He grabbed his flannel, tossing it over his shoulder before he shut the hatch on the trunk. He then turned to you with a bright smile and held his hand up for a high-five. “Alright!”
You high-fived him back mindlessly, pointing the flashlight at your feet now. “I didn’t do anything…”
“What are you talking about? I would’ve been fumbling around in the dark without you.” He nodded his head towards the front of the car. “Come on, we’re going to be late as is. We need to find that gas station. Hopefully they’re open late.”
“Hopefully…”
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[you: NEW new eta idfk]
[you: we got a flat and need to fill up again]
[you: we might die out here. if this is my last message, just know that i still wish you all a very fall down the mountain and die <3]
[rina: aw ily2 pookie <33]
[you: sungchan probably says hi or smth]
Hyuck texted you individually again.
[hyuck: oh i know that car smells RANK 🫵🫵🫵]
[you: bitch this tire is as flat as YOUR ASS]
[hyuck: so it’s caked up??? my point is made 😌]
[you: delusion]
“The stars are really pretty out here,” Sungchan’s voice took you away from your phone.
He wasn’t driving as fast as before on account of the spare, making your trip even longer. You looked out the windshield in front of you, at a small patch of sky that you could see peeking out in between the mountains and trees. It was hundreds, if not thousands of stars, infinitely more than you could ever hope to see on a perfectly clear night in the city.
“Wow.” You leaned your arms and head forward on the dash to see it better. “That’s crazy…”
“I bet we’ll see even more once we get to the cabin.”
“If we don’t die out here first,” you half-joked. “How much gas do we have?”
“Sixty miles. And the station should be another ten.”
“Online didn’t have any hours for it…” You muttered. “And this is kind of rural…”
“Which means the owner might live on the property, or they have someone work a night shift for weary travelers just like us.”
“Weary travelers?” You repeated with amusement. “You make it sound like we’re going on some long journey and are seeking lodging at an inn.”
“Some of that’s true.”
“Yeah, yeah. And I won’t knock the weary part either.” You laid back in your seat again, letting out a yawn.
“Take a nap,” Sungchan encouraged you. “We’ll still have a while to drive after refilling, especially since we’re driving slow with the spare.”
“I would, but if the station is open, I gotta pee…” You whispered. “And it’s only like ten miles.”
“Then take a nap after.”
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Finally, there was a building in the distance, and miraculously, when Sungchan pulled up to the lone gas pump, the lights inside were even on.
“Sungchan?” You walked around to where he was filling up the car.
“Yeah?” He looked over at you from where he had been watching the numbers on the meter go up.
“Uhm, can you go in with me? Into the store?” You asked almost sheepishly. “I just—”
“Of course.” He agreed with no hesitation, nodding towards the building for you to lead the way. The gas continued pumping on its own as he walked away, and you grabbed his arm as you approached the front door. He didn’t say anything as he opened the door for the two of you.
The attendant behind the counter didn’t even look up from his phone at the two of you as you entered. There was exactly one bathroom at the very back of the small convenience store, and Sungchan walked you back through the cramped aisles of snacks. When you were done, he was waiting just outside the door where you’d left him.
“Good?” He asked quietly, offering you the same arm that you’d taken in the parking lot.
You took it gladly. “Good.”
Sungchan gave the store employee a nod of acknowledgement as the two of you left, and the man once again didn’t even look up at you. Back at the car, the gas had clicked off on its own, and Sungchan replaced the pump. He walked you to the passenger side, opening your door and ushering you in, closing it firmly behind you before getting in on his side and locking it behind him.
“Good?” He asked you again.
“Good,” you confirmed, and he started the car up.
Back on the road, the darkness all around you, steady rumble of the pavement under you, and music Sungchan had playing at a low volume was slowly lulling you back towards sleep again. You let out a rather obvious, violent yawn, not even having enough in you to slap your hand over your mouth all that quick.
“Go to sleep, Y/N,” Sungchan said again.
“But you’ve got to drive more,” you argued. “Who’s going to keep you awake?”
“I’ve got it, promise.” He then chuckled to himself. “You’ve yapped, now it’s time to nap.”
“Mm, alright.” You curled up in your reclined seat as best you could, letting your eyes flutter shut. “Wake me up if you need entertainment to stay awake. Love a good car sing-along…”
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Your eyes and limbs still felt heavy and sluggish with sleep when you woke up later that night, and you pulled your blanket tighter to you as you tried to settle back in. You took a deep breath in through your nose, and then immediately remembered that you did not go to sleep with a blanket on you, and that this definitely was not yours that was on you right now. You felt at the material bunched in your hand again and recognized it as an article of clothing of some sort, not a blanket. Slowly opening one eye, you saw that it was a big hoodie, the arms wrapped around your shoulders so it didn’t fall off.
You shifted in your seat again, sitting up a little more as you looked at the hoodie that was draped over you a little closer.
“Hey, are you waking up?” Sungchan asked quietly from beside you.
You looked over at him, squinting. “Mm… mhm.”
“Good, we’re almost there. I’d say ten minutes,” he informed you.
“What… time is it?”
“A little after nine.”
“Ugh…” You dropped your head back against the seat. “Feels like two in the morning.”
“I know what you mean,” he chuckled. “I’m going to be ready to sleep as soon as we get there too.”
“Yeah, but you were like driving and changing tires and stuff. I was... whatever the opposite of a passenger princess is, the whole time. A passenger nuisance.”
“You held the flashlight. That was a very important job.”
“I’m going to pretend like that didn’t feel patronizing and say thanks.”
“We both had a long night, Y/N. Being tired is warranted, for everyone involved.”
“Thanks, Sungchan.”
“You’re welcome.”
“No, not just for that.” You were interrupted by another yawn as you went to put the back of your seat upright again. “For… driving me, and apologizing for snapping at me earlier, and changing the tire, and walking me to the bathroom, and for the hoodie. You’re…”
“Nice?” He seemed to be bracing himself for the word.
“A good guy.”
“Oh.”
You didn’t say anything else, readjusting his hoodie on you as he continued driving. Finally, he pulled off the road into a driveway, and a cabin came into view. All the lights were on, and he stopped behind a few other cars that you recognized: Mark’s, Jaemin’s, and Karina’s.
The two of you had just started taking your stuff out of the trunk when some of your friends met you outside.
“You survived!” Jaemin cheered.
“Barely,” you groaned, reaching for your pillow.
“What happened to your tire, dude?” Mark asked Sungchan.
“Got a nail in it somewhere,” he explained, taking his phone out to shine the flashlight on it. As they looked it over and talked about the car, the others grabbed both yours and Sungchan’s stuff to take into the cabin.
“So, before you guys got a flat, how exactly did you manage to read the map on your phone so wrong you added three hours to the drive?” Jeno questioned you, your duffel bag slung over his shoulder.
“Our exit was 238, I misread it, thought it was 288,” you explained with a sigh. “We ended up on the wrong side of the mountain and had to go back around.”
“Damn, it’s a good thing you were with Sungchan when you did that,” Anton laughed, dragging Sungchan’s suitcase in. “Anybody else probably would’ve lost their shit on you.”
“He did.”
Everyone who was within earshot turned to look at you.
“What?” Anton blinked.
“I mean, he didn’t like, go crazy or anything, but he was angry.”
“We’re talking about the same guy, right? Jung Sungchan, right over there?” Hyuck pointed to where Sungchan and Mark were still chatting by the cars further down the driveway. “He got like, actually mad at you?”
“Uh-huh,” you confirmed. “Raised his voice, yelled, whatever word you want to use. Cursed, too.”
“I’ve never even seen him get like, frustrated…” Shotaro whistled.
Hyuck looked between you and Sungchan in disbelief. “What the hell?”
“He apologized,” you added what felt like a pretty important detail.
“I’m sure he did,” Anton snorted, opening the front door. “I’m kind of surprised he’s not still like, begging for your forgiveness.”
“He apologized for getting upset, I apologized for missing the exit, we moved on.” You shrugged, stepping into the cabin. “And the sky didn’t fall.”
“Yet.” Hyuck scoffed. “Who knows, hell might freeze over before we wake up.”
“Speaking of, where exactly are we all sleeping?”
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The next morning, you slipped out of the king size bed that you, Karina, and Ningning were all sharing and treaded down the darkened hallway as quietly as possible. The sun hadn’t risen yet, and you winced when a floorboard creaked underfoot as you passed behind the pull-out couch that Shotaro and Anton had crashed on.
There was already light pouring out of the kitchen when you got there, and a tall figure was standing in front of the stove, a tea kettle on one of the old coil burners. Sungchan was illuminated by the stove light, and turned around when he heard the shuffling of your socks across the tile. It looked like he had already showered and gotten dressed, his hair a little damp as it hung in his eyes, and he was in a fresh t-shirt, shorts, and pair of sneakers.
“You’re up early,” he commented, keeping his voice low to not disturb the others in the next room.
“You too,” you replied just as softly.
The kettle began whistling just then, and he immediately flipped open the spout to stop the noise, taking it off the stove. He opened a nearby cabinet to grab a mug.
“Tea?” He offered. “I’m not a big coffee guy…”
“Sure,” you accepted, and he took a second mug down. “What kind?”
Sungchan went to a different cabinet to get a box of tea sachets. “Green.”
He dropped a tea bag into each mug, then poured the boiling water over them. He handed you your mug before leaning against a spot by the sink.
“Thanks.” You wrapped your hands contentedly around the warm drink.
You lifted your bag up and down by the string, letting it steep as your eyes blinked open and closed, your mind still coming to in the early morning hours. Outside the cabin, you could hear birds singing as the forest woke up too, and you smiled to yourself at the thought.
“So, uh—” Sungchan cleared his throat awkwardly. “What’s the difference between a nice guy and a good guy?”
You opened your eyes, lifting your head to look up at him, slightly amused. You hoped this hadn’t kept him up last night. “A nice guy wouldn’t have yelled at me in the first place.”
“Oh.” He looked a bit ashamed, and also like he might try to apologize again.
“But that also would’ve made no opportunity for you to apologize,” you continued. “A nice guy is just nice. A good guy can admit when he’s wrong, because he actually is wrong sometimes. But he fixes it after.”
“Huh…” Sungchan took another sip of his tea. “Are you a philosophy student or something? Gender studies?”
“No.” You laughed. “Just a compulsive vibe-harsher, like I said.”
“I don’t know how being smart harshes the vibe.”
“I… find it hard to take things at face value. I always have to evaluate them through some lens. It’s tough for me to live in the moment, I guess. Doesn’t always make me the most fun at parties.”
“You can’t be that much of a bummer, they keep inviting you places.” He had finished his tea, and turned around to wash out the mug before setting it aside to dry. “I’ve got to go, I found a place that’ll look at my tire. I called and they’re open on Saturdays.”
“I’ll go with you,” you offered. “If you want some company…”
“It’s on the other side of the mountain,” he informed you. “It’ll be an all-day thing, you should hang out here with everyone. I think Hyuck said they were going to take the boat out.”
“But then you’ll be all alone and bored in the car all day.” You tilted your head. “If you just don’t want me to come, tell me. I’ll be okay.”
“No, Y/N, I’d appreciate the company, but are you sure you want to be stuck in the car with me all day again?”
“Just don’t make me navigate and we’ll be good.”
“Never again,” he smiled. “You’ll be there purely for entertainment.”
“Great, let me get changed.”
“Aw, I thought the jammies were cute,” Sungchan snickered, and for the first time that morning you processed what you were wearing.
A pair of Sanrio character-patterned sleep shorts that were originally from a pajama set (the matching button-up top had long disappeared), well-loved, and a big t-shirt that your dad had gotten from his work when you were high school, worn in with a couple holes in one of the sleeves and another low on the bottom hem—not in any scandalous areas, hence why you hadn’t retired it yet, but definitely not your finest attire.
“Shut up!” You hissed, putting your mug down on the counter to cross your arms over your chest. “I’m changing!”
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[sungchan: going to get my tire fixed, y/n’s with me. car shop is on the other side of the mountain so we’ll be back late afternoon-ish]
[jeno: 👍]
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“I wasn’t kidding, the pajamas were cute,” Sungchan chuckled as he pulled away from the cabin.
The backroads looked much more welcoming and pleasant in the daytime, all tall, green trees and beautiful mountain landscapes.
“Yeah, sure,” you snorted, taking over the aux first.
“Is my hoodie over there by the way?” He questioned, pointing to the passenger seat floor. “It wasn’t in my stuff yesterday, I thought it might’ve ended up on the floor or something.”
“Oh, sorry, I accidentally took it in with me,” you informed him, remembering when you had finally gotten settled into your room late last night and realized you’d brought the article of clothing in with you in the midst of the hecticness. “I’ll give it back to you when we get back to the cabin after this.”
“Don’t worry about it, just wondering where it went.” He waved you off nonchalantly, eyes focused on the road as he navigated a curve.
But you weren’t going to let him chalant around that so easily. “And what does that mean, Sungchan?”
“I like that hoodie and didn’t want to have lost it on a mountain in the middle of nowhere?”
“So, if I were to give it back to you and start borrowing, oh, I don’t know, Jeno’s hoodie…?”
“That’d be weird, because you have a perfectly good one,” he replied simply.
“Mhm…”
“And clearly, I’m trying to establish my dominance over the other males and stake my unofficial claim over you by having you wear my clothes,” he looked over at you, voice dripping with sarcasm.
You held his eye contact for a moment before you both burst out laughing. “What?!”
“Sorry, I tried my hand at harshing the vibe like you,” his eyes crinkled as he laughed. “Just sounded like a fucking weirdo, huh?”
“A bit, yeah.” You wheezed as you tried to catch your breath. “You also can’t sound that sarcastic when you do it. People have to believe that you believe what you’re saying.”
“I didn’t though. I mean, not completely. I think.”
“Either commit to the bit or don’t.”
He frowned thoughtfully. “But… wouldn’t that have made you feel weird? What I just said?”
“Oh yeah, I don’t buy into all that alpha male social hierarchy bullshit. It’s based off one study on a pack of wolves that’s been debunked multiple times.” You shook your head. “But the second part wasn’t an incorrect analysis of flirting and dating dynamics.”
“Damn, you’re good at that,” he chuckled fondly.
“I didn’t know that Donghyuck was setting us up, by the way,” you felt the need to clarify in that moment. “Not until… right before I apologized?”
“I kind of worked that out eventually,” he sighed. “He should’ve told you, by the way.”
“Yeah, then maybe I would’ve been fucking normal.”
“Probably not.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“I mean, it was unfair to you to have been in the dark like that.”
“That’s… generous. Here I thought it was unfair to you to have been subjected to me like that.”
“I was a bit confused as to why Donghyuck told me he had the perfect person for me and then every time I talked to you, you either ran away or seemed to hate me for no good reason,” he admitted.
“I truly wonder what his thought process was…” You mused. “He meets you playing pickup basketball, you turn out to be nicest guy he’s ever met, and his first thought is to introduce you to me? Weird.”
“Why is that weird?” Sungchan tilted his head. “I think you’re cool.”
“I mean, I’m not nice. Or, it’s definitely not one of my defining characteristics. Wouldn’t you want to set up your two nicest single friends with each other?”
“They might get bored of each other,” he muttered.
You looked at him curiously. “Do you think you’re boring, Sungchan?”
He shrugged. “Isn’t that what people say? ‘Oh he’s… a nice guy.’ When they can’t think of anything else about you because you’re boring.”
“I’ve had plenty of fun with you,” you assured him. “Including being stuck in a car with you for six hours and getting a flat tire.”
“I haven’t exactly been my usual self with you…” He confessed quietly.
“Oh?”
“I don’t get upset with people, or tease them like this, or say weird stuff to try to harsh the vibe on purpose.”
You couldn’t help but let out a peal of laughter. “Maybe you are usually pretty boring, then.”
“I think… because you’ve already seen me get mad, and we got past that, I feel like I can try out being things other than nice with you?” He seemed to have been picking his words very carefully. “Does that make sense?”
“Yeah, Sungchan, it makes sense,” you affirmed. “Are you seriously saying you don’t joke around with the others?”
“I joke around, but I’m not really like… sarcastic, I guess. I don’t want to say something and hurt someone’s feelings either because they didn’t get that it was a joke, or even if they did, because it went too far.”
“That’s fair, but… you have to trust people.”
“Coming from the woman who said she doesn’t trust hot people?” He questioned pointedly.
“Okay, fair,” you chuckled. “But hear me out.”
“Go for it.”
“If your friend said or did something that hurt your feelings, and you didn’t tell them that directly, would you expect them to know?”
He seemed to think about this for a moment, then shook his head. “No, they can’t read my mind. I would need to tell them so we can talk about it.”
“Then why do you have higher standards for yourself as a friend than you have for your friends?”
Sungchan’s mouth dropped open, then closed, then opened again, then closed once more as he frowned deeply, his brows knitting together.
You continued, “You have to trust your friends to tell you when they’re hurt by something you say or do. If you spend your whole life assuming what your friends’ feelings are instead actually letting them tell you, you’re just forcing your own expectations onto them without their input. And it’s also not fair to you to constantly be living your life trying to minimize all these perceived slights against people. Not to mention—sometimes someone’s feelings can get hurt and you didn’t really do anything wrong.”
He laughed nervously. “Not philosophy or gender studies grad student; I think I’m going to skip right over psychology and just go straight for all-knowing deity that can see straight into my soul?”
“Been thinking about updating my LinkedIn to Professional Yapper, but I think I like that better,” you grinned, handing his phone back over to him. “Your turn on the aux.”
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“It’s fixable,” the tire shop owner confirmed. “Should take an hour or so. It’s just me and my son and we have a couple customers ahead of you. You and your girlfriend are welcome to wait here, or, you know, it’s lunchtime, there’s a restaurant that’s a five-minute walk down the road.”
He pointed in presumably the general direction of it.
“Right, uhm, here’s my number, in case we’re not here when it’s done.” Sungchan wrote his number down on a notepad on the front desk in the small tire shop.
The older man pulled the paper towards him, flashing the both of you a smile. “If you go to lunch, tell Mrs. Han I sent you.”
“Thank you.” He nodded to the man before you both stepped away from the counter, and the owner walked into the back where the cars were.
You looked up at Sungchan questioningly. “I could do lunch. Are you hungry?”
“Sure,” he agreed. “Beats sitting here for an hour. After sitting in the car for two days straight, I’d like to walk for a bit.”
There was of course no sidewalk, so the two of you had to walk on the shoulder of the road, the odd vehicle zipping by every so often and kicking up your hair. Sungchan kept himself between you and the road, meaning that you were on the grassier part of the shoulder, but you didn’t mind, taking the opportunity to look for wildflowers by your feet.
“Did we really look like a couple?” You asked, stopping to bend over and pick a yellow wildflower, then continued your walk.
“We were a man and woman alone in the middle of nowhere with car trouble,” Sungchan pointed out. “I don’t think the first assumption would be that we met a week ago.”
“Hm, fair.”
“He probably sees a lot of couples coming out here for romantic getaways breaking down or getting flats or whatever.”
“Sounds like the beginning of a horror movie…” You picked a stalk of small white flowers. “Or the first five minutes of a crime procedural.”
Sungchan grabbed a purple flower and held it out to you. “Truly a miracle that we survived.”
“Are you a mechanic or something?”
“Why? Because I know how to change a tire?”
You shrugged. “It’s a guess. You guessed that I was a philosophy student because I like to yap.”
“Not a mechanic.”
“You going to make me keep guessing?”
“I’ve guessed what you do three times now and you’ve yet to tell me.” He elbowed you. “I think you can handle a little more suspense about me.”
You swatted his arm away. “I don’t know if all-knowing deity should really count…”
“I was being so serious, hand on my heart.” He laid his hand over his chest dramatically.
“Well, I know it’s not pro basketball player,” you hummed teasingly. “Anton says you suck.”
“My three-pointer could use some work…”
“Pretty much our whole complex is grad students or young professionals... Are you in school?”
“You haven’t given me any hints.”
“You haven’t asked for any.”
He watched you step a little further from the road to get a pink flower from a patch before rejoining him. “I’ll answer if you answer.”
“A bargain?” You grinned, taking your gaze off the blue flowers that you had been eyeing up ahead of you and turning it up to Sungchan next to you. “I’ll take it. You first.”
“I’m a student. Your turn.”
“Both,” you answered. “I take night classes.”
“I have to guess two things for you?”
“What do we win if we guess right, anyway?” You asked.
“Y/N...” Sungchan stared you down at you avoiding his question.
“Fine, if you can guess one, I’ll tell you the other,” you acquiesced. “So what’s the prize?”
“Winning isn’t enough?” He questioned.
“You’re the one who turned it into a game.”
“Pretty sure you’re the one who did that, but okay,” he teased back. “I don’t know, what do you think it should it be? You suggested a prize.”
You hummed, stepping away from the road to reach for a bright blue flower, having to lean over to one side as the ground sloped down steeply in this area. A few pieces of gravel under your feet tumbled downhill, and Sungchan grabbed your forearm that was close to him to balance you as you picked the flower. Still hunched over, using your new stability with his hold on you to stretch your arm even further out towards a pretty orange one, you suggested, “Winner picks our first date when we get back home?”
“Date?” He echoed, his grip slipping on you for a moment.
You yelped as you nearly lost your balance, and Sungchan barely caught you from tumbling down the hillside, jerking you back towards him. You landed on your ass at his feet, huffing as you looked up at him.
“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, moving to offer you a hand up.
You took it, standing back up and brushing yourself off. Picking the orange wildflower first, you then threatened, “If you push me down this mountain for real, I’m taking you with me.”
“Yeah, that’s deserved,” he chuckled. “I was just, uhm, surprised.”
“Donghyuck tried to set us up—failed stupendously, which I mean, it’s Hyuck, what’s new?—but we’ve been flirting, I have your hoodie, unless something goes terribly wrong in the next two weeks, that would be the next step, right?” You pointed out. “I wasn’t planning on overanalyzing this but…”
Sungchan let out a round of giggles, his whole face scrunching up as he laughed. “Oh… you don’t know how relieved I am right now to hear you overanalyze that for me.”
“What…?”
“No offense, but it’s a bit hard to tell when you’re analyzing and when you’re flirting,” he admitted, still looking at you with a wide, fond grin. “I mean, this all literally started with you calling me stupidly hot and that somehow being a bad thing.”
You pursed your lips ruefully. “I can see how that might’ve been confusing…”
“No, it’s great,” he chuckled. “You’re great.”
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Finally sitting in a booth in the small roadside restaurant, which only had a handful of other customers, the two of you had put in your orders with Mrs. Han and were sipping on your drinks as you went back to your guessing game from the walk.
“We have to guess before we get back to the cabin,” you determined, folding your hands in front of you. “Other people there know us. They might say something.”
Sungchan nodded from across the table. “Good point. Time limit, I like it.”
“Business major. MBA,” you started immediately.
“What? No,” he snorted incredulously.
“It’s basically Undeclared for people who don’t want to disappoint their parents, I had to guess it, sorry.”
“Literature, writing, MFA, something in there?”
“No, and that was like two guesses, so I get two this time.” You clicked your tongue. “Master’s in education, focus in coaching pedagogy.”
“That was one?”
“Yeah.”
“No.”
“Okay, my second: International Relations.”
“No.” He cracked his knuckles. “I’m switching gears, because you seem to know a lot of degrees off the top of your head. You work in the Registrar’s Office?”
“No.”
“Damn! Wait, no, you’re an academic advisor?”
“Nope.”
“Graduate advisor.”
“No, and that was three in a row, Sungchan,” you pointed out humorously.
“I know. Alright, your three?”
“Can I ask a question to narrow it down instead?”
He squinted suspiciously. “What kind of question?”
“To help me narrow the field down. I won’t ask you to tell me the field, they’ll still be yes or no questions.”
“Yes, only if I can ask you the same.”
“It’d only be fair,” you confirmed. “STEM?”
“No.”
“Oh thank God,” you let out a groan of relief.
He laughed. “What’s wrong with people in STEM fields?”
“Listen, love a woman in STEM,” you defended yourself. “Men in STEM… they’re… how do I put this nicely? Insufferable know-it-alls?”
“That’s putting it nicely?”
“Yup.” You took a sip of your drink. “Don’t tell me it’s Finance either…”
“No.”
“Okay, I have one more…” You tapped your finger to your chin. “Is it a Fine Art?”
“No.” Sungchan looked down at the small bunch of flowers that you had set aside on the table. “What are you going to do with those?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know. Look at them for a while. Take pretty pictures for my Instagram. Toss them eventually, I guess. They’re not gonna live forever.”
Selecting one of the little pink flowers, you reached across the table to tuck it behind Sungchan’s ear. “There.”
He touched the flower, a similar shade of pink dusting his cheeks. “Thanks.”
“Your turn to guess.”
“STEM?”
“Math is my worst enemy, numbers were invented to harm me personally,” you retorted. “No.”
“I should’ve known,” he teased.
Mrs. Han brought your food out then, and you both thanked her before she bustled off to take care of a family that had just walked in. There was a pause in your conversation as you started eating. The food was delicious, and as you took another sip to wash it down, you looked out the window next to your table.
“The view is just crazy here,” you gushed, taking in the mountainside dotted with more colorful patches of wildflowers. You patted your pocket for your phone, then frowned when you couldn’t find it. “Where’s my—”
Wordlessly, Sungchan picked it up from the tabletop and held it out to you. You smiled at him. “Oh, thanks! Didn’t even see it.”
After taking a few pictures, you set your phone back down and returned to your guessing game. “Law?”
He shook his head, still chewing, and wiped his face before speaking with a clear mouth. “Nope. Are your job and what you’re studying related at all?”
“Yes.”
“Huh. I don’t think that actually helped me at all.”
“Education?”
“Mm, yes to the field, but I will make you narrow it down further,” Sungchan acquiesced.
You beamed at having finally gotten closer. “So I was on the right track with my second guess!”
“Are you doing a Fine Art?”
“No. Master’s in Early Childhood Education?”
He let out a soft chuckle as he sat back in the booth, holding his hands up in surrender. “You win.”
“Yes!” You cheered quietly, pumping a fist victoriously at eye level. “I was going to start at Early Childhood and keep going up in age bracket until I got a yes.”
“So?” He prompted you. “What do you do?”
“Right now, I’m a primary school teacher and I tutor on the side for some extra cash.” You watched his eyes grow wide as you revealed this. “And I’m taking a mix of night classes and online classes to get my degree in Educational Leadership and Policy Studies.”
“And that’s a…?”
“Doctorate.”
“Wow…” He breathed out. “Donghyuck really didn’t tell me anything about you before dragging me over to you at his party but uh—”
“Maybe he figured he’s got one friend who is a teacher and one who wants to be a teacher, might as well?” You suggested with humor in your tone, reaching for your glass.
“Yeah, maybe,” he laughed, his eyes sparkling as he kept looking at you.
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When you and Sungchan finally got back to the cabin, you found it entirely devoid of your other friends.
“No welcoming party this time?” You scoffed, gesturing to the empty living room. “Now I’m thinking we should just keep the free fudge Mrs. Han gave us all to ourselves.”
“Hyuck did say they were going to take the boat out,” Sungchan reminded you, placing the bag containing said free fudge onto the kitchen counter. “And there’s no way the two of us could eat all that by ourselves before they got back.”
You made a small ‘hmph’ sound, moving to the large sliding glass door in the living room that afforded a view of the lake. The sun glistened off the water, and from here you couldn’t even see the next closest neighbor.
“Do you want to go down to the dock?” Sungchan suggested, joining you by the door. “They took the boat, but that doesn’t mean we’re stuck inside.”
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“So,” Sungchan followed you down the pathway from the back porch down to the dock. “Once you have your degree, do you still want to be a teacher?”
“Yeah, my kids are why I’m getting it in the first place,” you explained, carefully picking your way down the steep decline. “I want to be able to advocate on behalf of them better, and understand what’s going on when the people who aren’t teachers are making decisions that affect us.”
“What year do you teach?”
“I provide supplemental curricula for all ages. Reading and writing mostly.” You peeked back at him over your shoulder. “Do you have an age you want to teach?”
A giddy smile tugged at his lips. “Little ones. Preschool. They’re so… Everything’s new to them. It’s so much fun seeing the world like that.”
“Yeah, it is.” You could feel that you were smiling too, turning your eyes back down to watch your step.
Soon, you were down on the dock, laid out on your towel as you enjoyed a puddle of sunlight, listening to the sounds of Sungchan splashing around in the water in front of you.
“You’re going to get skin cancer like that.”
Propping yourself up on one elbow, you looked over your sunglasses at where Sungchan had climbed back up the ladder and was sitting on the edge of the dock, pushing his wet hair out of his face. Like you’d said before, stupidly attractive.
“You literally helped me apply my sunscreen,” you drawled pointedly, recalling when he’d so coyly offered to help you get your back. Pushing your sunglasses back into place, you laid down again. “If I do, it’s your fault.”
You could hear him stand up and walk towards you. “I’ve never understood laying in the sun like that. Don’t you get all sweaty?”
“Haven’t you heard? I’m cold-blooded,” you replied humorously.
“Well, do you think you can survive one swim, or will your blood turn sludge in your veins as soon as you touch water?”
You snickered, finally sitting up. “Fine, fine, I’ll get in.”
Sungchan watched you get to your feet, then offered his hand out. You eyed it suspiciously.
“I’m getting in,” you promised, pointing to the ladder.
He offered his hand more insistently. “It’s not that bad. Jump in with me.”
You sighed, grabbing his hand. “Fine.”
Stepping up the edge of the dock with him, he swung your clasped hands in time as he counted, “One, two—”
“Three!” You finished, pulling him forward with you.
He rushed to bring his other hand up to plug his nose as you careened the both of you off the dock and into the lake. The water surged up around you, cool but not cold, not too warm to be gross, just refreshing enough. You squeezed your eyes shut as you went under, and let go of Sungchan’s hand so you could paddle back up to the surface. Wiping the water from your eyes, you laughed as he immediately pointed an accusatory finger at you.
“Dragging your heels only to pull me off!” He was grinning too.
“I’m sorry, did I see you plugging your nose?” You teased back. “At your big age?”
“I’m not getting a brain-eating amoeba, thank you,” he retorted. “You were asleep, but there was this billboard we passed on our way here warning people about it.”
“But do you know how to blow nose bubbles, Sungchan?”
“Well, no.”
“Okay, mini-swim lesson,” you declared, waving him closer. “Come on, I used to teach water safety to little kids. If I can teach a two-year-old to stop snorting water, I believe in you.”
“You taught swim lessons?”
“Yeah, it was my first job, in high school.” You locked back into instructing. “You can blow your nose, right?”
He looked at you blankly. “Yes.”
“Hey, some people have body awareness issues, it’s always better to ask.” You held your hands up defensively. “So, same mechanics, air goes out into the water, keep your mouth closed, and don’t inhale through your nose right after while it’s still underwater.”
You did a small demonstration for him, only submerging from your chin to your nose, letting out a slow stream of bubbles. Bringing your face back up, you added, “And try not to exhale all at once.”
Sungchan mirrored your actions, lowering his face until his nose was underwater, slowly exhaling. He uncertainly lifted his head again after, eyes on you.
You smiled and clapped your hands. “Yay! There we go!”
“That was... weirdly easy.” He immediately did it again.
“Now you just have to think about doing it all the time, until you don’t have to think about doing it.” You rolled over onto your back, relaxing as you floated. “Then you’ll never have to worry about plugging your nose again.”
“If you used to be a swim instructor, why didn’t you want to swim?” Sungchan followed after you curiously as you drifted away.
“Because then I do stuff like give grown men lessons on how to blow nose bubbles.”
“That was helpful.”
“And—” You popped up to tread water again, facing Sungchan. “I kind of hate lakes. And oceans. Anything that I can’t see the bottom in, and where stuff lives. Like fish, or brain-eating amoebas. I like my pools.”
His face fell. “Oh, well we can get out—”
“I said kind of,” you cut him off. “I don’t mind, because you wanted to swim, and I’m having fun with you.”
“But—”
“Sungchan.” You held his gaze steadily, keeping your voice calm, inquisitive even. “Have you ever done something you don’t really care for, because your friends or family wanted to?”
“Well, yeah.”
“They’re worth it?”
“Of course.”
You tilted your head with a knowing smile. “So are you.”
His face flushed with what you knew wasn’t the heat of the sun. “Oh...”
The sound of a boat motor in the distance caught your attention. Coming around a bend in the trees was, in fact, a boat, and while you couldn’t make out any individual faces at this distance, the fact that it was headed right towards you, and several of the figures were jumping and waving at you, you could guess that it held all your friends.
“Well, there’s everyone,” you laughed, heading back towards the dock.
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Some days later, you were contentedly relaxed in a hammock that had been suspended between two trees in the spacious backyard of the cabin, humming along to a song playing from Ningning’s phone as you half-listened to whatever juicy piece of gossip that the other two were divulging. A cool night breeze passed over your bare arms and legs, pricking up goosebumps in its wake, and you shivered.
“I’m going to grab a sweater or something,” you declared, getting down from the hammock. Picking up your empty drink can from the table nearby, you added, “Not to mention, I’m out of seltzer.”
“Can you see if we have any more chocolate-covered pretzels?” Karina requested.
“Sure.” You grabbed some of the other trash to take in with you.
You passed by the guys playing video games in the living room as you headed for the kitchen, tossing the garbage out first. After throwing on a hoodie from your room, you went back into the living room, fully intending on checking the kitchen for Karina’s snack. Instead, you were met by a desperate, raucous chorus of yells of your name.
“Hm?” You looked up at the guys questioningly, stopping in your tracks.
Mark waved you over fervently. “Come here! We need an even number.”
“What are you guys playing?” You took a hesitant step closer, eyes scrutinizing the game menu.
“Don’t worry about it, it’s a button masher, super easy,” Shotaro reassured you, grabbing your arm and pulling you into the living room. “Sungchan’s not even half-bad at it.”
“Yeah, you can uh, you can even be on Sungchan’s team,” Hyuck said, exchanging a mischievous grin with a couple of your other friends.
“Okay,” you shrugged, plopping down into the space that Sungchan had made for you between him and the arm of the couch. A controller was pushed into your hand. Karina’s pretzels could wait.
“This moves your character around, this one is to jump, this one is to attack, this one is to shield,” Sungchan quietly explained the controls to you as the others started assigning teams, hands hovering over yours on the controller. “There’s some other special moves, but those are the basics. Just uh, stay away from Hyuck.”
You nodded. “Got it.”
“Nice hoodie by the way,” he added, much softer.
“Thanks...” You murmured back, well aware that you were wearing his from the car.
“Alright!” Jaemin announced loudly. “Let’s do it!”
Now, you didn’t exactly consider yourself a gamer. In fact, you spent most of the time either running away from the other guys, or at one point, accidentally falling off the level and losing a life all on your own. You couldn’t even tell if you were even really helping Sungchan at all. But it was fun, and you were kind of maybe starting to get a hang of the controls by the end of the round. To your surprise, the two characters that popped up as winners, however, were yours and Sungchan’s.
“We won?” You questioned, looking at Sungchan in surprise.
“Looks like we did,” he confirmed, smiling down at the controller in his hand.
“Hell yeah!” You held a hand up for him to high five.
“Sungchan, what the hell?” Shotaro smacked his arm from his other side.
“Since when have you been good at video games?” Jaemin interjected from the other couch.
“Have you been sucking on purpose this whole time and just decided to reveal that you were good now?” Mark questioned accusatorily.
“Yeah, we were joking when we said he was only half-bad at this game, he’s actually ass at it,” Anton clarified to you, making you roll your eyes at their apparent plan to give you the worst player.
“Sorry Y/N, he’s on my team next,” Hyuck declared, bringing up the character selections and switching Sungchan’s team color to match his own.
“Hey, change that back,” Sungchan said, his voice level but firm.
Hyuck actually stopped in his tracks, looking back at Sungchan with wide eyes. He held his hands up in surrender.
Sungchan switched his team color back to match yours with no interference from the others. You lightly bumped your leg against his as the room chatter started back up. He bumped your leg back.
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The next day, everyone went out on a hike. There was a slightly overgrown trail that went around the mountainside, taking lazy twists and turns through the trees. Said greenery provided you with plenty of shade, and concealed the lake below from you so well it almost felt like you had transported elsewhere. The trail was narrow, however, only fitting three people comfortably at its widest points, but usually only two, so your group was spread out thin along it.
Jaemin and Hyuck were up front, arguing about… something that you couldn’t parse out from your place all the way at the back. Turning to Sungchan beside you, you took your water bottle out of the side pocket of the backpack he was wearing. Somehow he had been burdened with most of the group’s supplies, and while you weren’t exactly doing any sort of survivalist stuff out here, you didn’t see why everyone couldn’t at least carry their own water bottles.
Taking a swig from your bottle, you kept it in your hand as you pointed at him accusingly, “You didn’t suddenly get good at that game out of nowhere last night, Sungchan.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, I mean…”
“Were you sucking on purpose so nobody’s feelings got hurt?”
“I didn’t suck. I was just sort of… okay.” He tried to explain. “I don’t know if it was on purpose, I guess I just didn’t care if everyone knew that I was the best? I’m just not super competitive, really.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Hyuck speechless like that before either.” You laughed at the memory. “You don’t ever stand up for yourself with them like that, do you?”
“It’s not like they bully me or anything…”
“You just go with the flow?”
“Yeah, exactly,” he seemed to relax again at your words.
“I had fun playing on your team last night,” you said, taking another sip. “Win or lose. I’m glad you didn’t go with the flow that time.”
“Hey, hold still?” Sungchan requested, reaching a hand out towards your face.
You froze warily. “What is it? A bug?”
“No, no,” he reassured you, brushing your hair back from one side of your head, then the other. “Did you leave the cabin with only one earring in?”
“Shit, no!” Your hands flew up to clutch at your lobes, immediately feeling that one of them was empty. You looked down at the ground around your feet, despite the sinking feeling in your stomach that it was useless. There was nothing around you but dirt and grass. “Damn it!”
Sungchan made an effort to look under him as well, but came up empty-handed too. “I don’t see anything…”
“Well, damn,” you sighed, dropping your hands back down to your sides. “Could’ve been worse, I guess. Could’ve been my grandmother’s pearls or something instead of a pair of earrings I stole from my freshman roommate.”
“Seriously?” He laughed as you continued down the trail.
“It was an accident! Mostly…” You explained. “We borrowed each other’s stuff all the time, and when we moved out at the end of the year, the earrings ended up in my stuff. I told her I had them and she said I could keep them. Apparently they always made her ears itch anyway.”
“Sucks you lost one, though. I thought the little hearts were really cute.”
“Just like you thought my raggedy old t-shirt was cute?” You snorted.
“Exactly.”
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“Why do you get shotgun, Y/N?” Anton complained from the backseat, his voice loud to be heard over the wind.
“Because it’s my car,” Sungchan retorted, his thumb tapping out a rhythm on the steering wheel. “And I said so.”
You couldn’t help but snicker at the image of poor Anton and his lanky limbs squished into the middle seat between Shotaro and Mark. “You could’ve stayed at the cabin, Anton.”
“I was bored.” He crossed his arms. “And I thought Sungchan would’ve at least been sympathetic to his fellow long-legged brethren.”
“But the baby always gets the middle seat.” You turned around to pinch his cheek.
“I am not—”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Sungchan sighed, looking out the window. “With the way you’re whining right now.”
Anton’s jaw dropped as the other three of you broke into howling laughter.
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Soon enough, you arrived at your destination, a natural park with a huge cave system. The main attraction, however, was that one section of the tunnels was so dark that you couldn’t even see your own hand in front of your face.
A small family, and field trip for what looked like a summer camp had arrived just before you all, and were put in the same tour group as your friends. You watched from afar with amusement as the counselors put the children into buddy pairs before the tour guide officially began the tour.
“Hey, don’t you teach, Y/N?” Shotaro asked curiously as your own group took up the rear of the tour, nodding towards all the kids.
“Yeah, I do,” you answered, the air immediately becoming cooler as you stepped into the caves. “Primary school.”
“Jungchan over here wants to be a teacher too!” Anton informed you cheerily, slapping Sungchan on the shoulder, the sound cracking through the entire cave loudly.
Several heads turned around to look at the source of the noise, and you all looked around at the walls of the cave innocently until they turned forward again. The cave was getting darker and darker, the lights strung up by the park employees getting fewer and further between. Your eyes continued to adjust to the changing light, but your surroundings were becoming less made up of clear objects with definable features and more the vague outline of shapes.
“Oh, really?” You asked mildly, barely concealing the humor in your tone.
“Early childhood education,” he replied calmly, hand sneaking up to pinch your side.
It took everything in you not to squeal as you squirmed away from his hand, elbowing his arm. You could hear the light puffs of his silent laughter next to you. Right as you had lifted your own hand up to retaliate, the tour group came to a stop, everything was pitch black around you, and Sungchan’s hand caught yours, lacing your fingers together. There were no lights in here, and the children’s excited chatter rose as the counselors spoke back to them to confirm that they were still there as well. You held your free hand up in front of your face, and the only way you knew it was there was because you could feel that it was. The only thing your eyes saw was darkness.
“That’s freaky,” Shotaro commented from somewhere behind you.
“What the hell, man?” Mark was somewhere to your other side. “Dude, I can’t see my hand! Just like it said online!”
“Oh! There you are, Shotaro!” Anton breathed out a sigh of relief.
“Yeah, I didn’t disappear in the five seconds since we walked in here,” Shotaro grunted. “Did you have to practically climb on top of me to confirm that?”
You reached out tentatively towards Sungchan, your hand eventually bumping into his chest. “Ah, found you.”
“Found me,” he echoed quietly.
The tour guide started ushering everyone out of the sector, and as the light started entering your vision again, your fingers unwound from Sungchan’s. The counselor’s voices floated back to you as they took a headcount of all their kids, who were still dutifully holding onto their assigned buddies.
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Soft footsteps at the top of the stairs caught your attention, and you looked up from your laptop at the tall figure hovering there awkwardly. You offered Sungchan a soft smile, waving him into the small attic loft space. There wasn’t much up here except the couch that you were on, a narrow table, and a dartboard. The ceiling was so low that Sungchan had to hunch just the slightest to avoid knocking his forehead into the wooden crossbeams.
“Hey.” You pushed yourself up into a proper sitting position on the couch, your computer moving from your stomach to your lap.
“Why aren’t you out with everyone else?” He sat down in the space that you had freed up. The others had all gathered outside around the firepit to roast marshmallows and drink, but you had other things to tend to.
You nodded to the device. “Ah, I had some grading to do.”
“I thought you were on summer break.”
“Tutoring.” You set the laptop aside on the coffee table, even as your eyes caught on the screen fondly. “One of my students, I mean, she doesn’t need it for her grades. But she just loves writing, so her mom pays for sessions like private workshops. I’m working on her newest story right now.”
“How is it?”
“She’s so creative!” You couldn’t help but laugh. “It amazes me every time. She hasn’t quite figured out resolutions yet, still rushes through them once she’s decided she’s done with the exciting part. But she’s gotten a lot better with dialogue. She used to not write it at all, just tell you what characters said, never putting anything in quotes, you know?”
“It’s typed?” He questioned, looking at the word document on your screen.
“Yeah, she has coordination issues, pencils kind of slow her down,” you explained. “She’s working on it in her occupational therapy. But that’s not what this is for. This is to let her be creative. If I forced her to use a pencil, she’d have to stop writing because her hands were done before her brain was done.”
“That... sounds frustrating for her.”
“There’s other options now. I mean, when’s the last time you actually used a pencil in your everyday life?”
He seemed to think about this for a moment. “...Good point.”
There was a pause as Sungchan just kept looking at you, the moment feeling much like when you were in the restaurant, his dark brown eyes sparkling even in the dim lighting you had now.
“Did you miss me, Sungchan?” You eyed him teasingly.
“Well, yeah,” he agreed as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “And I wanted to make sure you were alright.”
“What did you tell everyone else you were doing when you came looking for me?”
“I didn’t make an announcement or anything.”
“Yeah?” You sat up closer to him, then did a double-take as you noticed a hole in his earlobe. “Hey, I never noticed you had your ears pierced.”
“Only one.” He turned his head to show you the other, unadulterated lobe. “Probably why you didn’t notice, you’ve always been on my other side in the car.”
An idea immediately came to your mind, and you stood up from the couch. “Wait here.”
Traversing through the house, you came back up the stairs with your prize clutched triumphantly in the palm of your hand. You held your closed fist out towards him indicatively. “Here.”
He held his hand out, letting you drop the single red heart stud into it. His eyes widened as he turned it over with a fingertip. “You’re…”
“I washed it, don’t worry.”
Sungchan promptly put the stud in, securing it with the backing and looking up at you again with a delighted, amazed smile.
“Cute,” you commented, tracing the shell of his ear with a fingertip.
“And what does this mean, Y/N?” He asked slyly.
“What am I going to do with only one earring?” You replied with feigned innocence. “And, I was kind of hoping you’d need help putting it on, since there’s no mirrors in here...”
He leaned back against the couch. “And how exactly would you have helped me put it on?”
“Well, I can’t really see from here, so, I would’ve had to get closer—” You stepped forward, putting your hands on his shoulders as you lowered yourself onto his lap. You kept your focus on his face the whole time, watching for any hesitation, any uncertainty, any indication that you should stop. His eyes watched you with rapt attention, big and brown and awe-filled.
“Good?” You asked quietly, your voice barely above a hum.
He swallowed, his throat bobbing up and down, and your eyes followed the movement, before he answered, “Good.”
“Then I would’ve put the earring in—” You once again outlined the outer shell of his ear, continuing down the line of his jaw. “And probably said something about the adorable little freckle you have on the bridge of your nose that I kind of want to bite.”
You tapped said freckle, high up on his nose, nearly between his brows, and his face split into a grin as he laughed breathily.
“Bite?” He repeated, clearly amused at the idea.
“Mhm.” You nodded, looping your arms around his neck. “You’ve got a very biteable nose, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, the whole nose is biteable, not just the freckle,” he chuckled, settling his hands on your hips.
“Well, more than just the nose.”
“Y/N.”
“Mm?”
“Can I kiss you?”
You gasped in feigned shock. “Before our first date?”
“Do I need to ask your hand in marriage first?” He was so close that your noses almost touched now, his question mingling with your answer that came soon after.
“No,” you snickered, letting him seal his lips over yours in the next moment.
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“You mauled him.”
Turning around from where you were eating a bowl of cereal, you raised an eyebrow at Hyuck. “Good morning to you too, Hyuck. And nice bedhead.”
He didn’t fix his hair that was sticking up in all directions, coming around to flop into the seat across the table from you. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
“I don’t know who or what you’re talking about?” You snorted. Pushing the box towards him, you offered, “Cereal?”
“Care to tell me why Sungchan is covered in hickies and bite marks?”
“Care to tell me how you know that?”
“He sleeps shirtless, don’t try to avoid.”
“Why do you think it was me?”
“He disappeared from the bonfire last night and didn’t return, you didn’t show up at all, he appears the next morning coincidentally looking like he’s been someone’s chew toy. You’re... you.”
You cocked your head at him curiously. “Weren’t you trying to set us up?”
“I was. I still am, kind of,” he sighed. “Like I said, Sungchan’s the nicest guy I know. Don’t... chew him up and spit him out, please.”
“I’m touched you think so highly of me, truly.”
“That didn’t come out right,” he groaned, rubbing his face with two hands. “I meant... Make sure you two are on the same page about what you’re doing and what you want.”
“We are, Hyuck,” you told him quietly.
Hyuck peeked at you over his hands, and based on the crinkles that formed around his eyes, you could perfectly imagine the mischievous grin that was hidden. “So it was you, then?”
Footsteps entered the kitchen then, followed by Sungchan’s voice, deeper with the early hours of the morning, “Oh, morning, Y/N, Hyuck.”
He stopped next to your seat at the end of the table, seeming uncertain of just how close to be to you. He was wearing a longsleeve, which didn’t help much with the few marks on his neck and under his jaw. The red heart stud was still in his ear, which made your chest squeeze and your whole body thrum with happiness.
“Morning, Sungchan,” you said brightly, gesturing to the cereal box. “Cereal? Hyuck didn’t want any.”
“Oh, sure.”
“Sit, I’ll get your bowl.” You stood up, gently pushing him towards the table as you walked by him towards the cabinets.
“Gross, could you not do that in front of me?” Donghyuck made an exaggerated gagging sound.
“Do what?” Sungchan squinted at him in confusion at the same time that you scoffed, “Nobody’s holding you here at gunpoint. Go back to sleep.”
“Maybe I will.” He made a grand display of pushing his chair back and standing up.
“You’ve never been a morning person.” You shook your head at him. “See you in a few hours.”
As he shuffled back out of the kitchen, you returned to your mission of fetching a bowl and the milk, bringing them back to the table for Sungchan. He’d taken the seat next to yours, and you happily plopped back down beside him.
“Thanks,” he murmured, beginning to fix a bowl of cereal for himself.
“Good one sleeping shirtless, by the way. Hyuck had absolutely no questions,” you teased, finger poking one of the hickies facing you.
Sungchan gave you a pointed stare, but made no move to knock your hand away. “Oh and who couldn’t keep her teeth to herself?”
“I told you: You’re biteable.”
He reached up to grab your hand and removed it from where you'd still been messing with the marks you’d left on his throat. Instead of just pushing it away, he brought your joined hands down to rest on his leg. After a beat, he looked up at you, uncertainty in his gaze, as if he were about to belatedly ask permission.
You laced your fingers together, scooting your chair closer to his before picking up your spoon with your free hand.
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As the anchor was dropped into the water, there was an excited buzz about the boat, everyone getting ready to get in the water. Hyuck had stopped the boat by a rope swing that was set up in a tree on one of the steep edges of where the mountain met the lake. A few inflatables were tied to the boat so they wouldn’t drift away, and of course, a couple coolers with plenty of drinks were on deck.
“Y/N, can you help me with my sunscreen?” Ningning requested, holding the bottle out to you.
“Ning, I told you to apply it at the cabin,” you sighed, accepting the sunscreen nevertheless as she took her coverup off.
“It’s not my fault we’re currently sharing one bathroom with like five other people!” She pointed out. “I didn’t have time.”
Sudden wolf whistles and dramatic yells from the back of the boat made you snap your head over, anger flooding your body immediately. But you realized that none of them were aimed at you and Ningning. Instead, the guys seemed to all be taunting Sungchan, who had just taken his shirt off, revealing the full extent of the love bites scattered on his skin.
“Dude, did you get mauled by a bear or something?” Mark laughed.
“Or fall down the mountain?” Anton’s eyes were wide as he went to poke one on Sungchan’s shoulder.
Sungchan slapped his hand away. “Personal space?”
“Fall down the mountain after getting mauled by a bear?” Jaemin proposed helpfully, moving behind him as if inspecting a product that he was purchasing at a store. “We got claw marks, guys!”
They all let out teasing cheers, and you could see that Sungchan’s ears were bright red. You shook your head to yourself, going back to helping Ningning with her sunscreen.
She craned her neck to be able to look at you over her shoulder. “Nice one, Y/N.”
“Who, me?” You blinked at her innocently.
“You left that poor boy to deal with those menaces by himself.”
You’d finished up with her sunscreen, handing her the bottle. “One sec.”
Walking over to where the guys were still razzing Sungchan, who now looked prematurely sunburned, you held a hand up to shade your eyes, squinting as you looked off towards the rope swing.
“I bet Shotaro could make it there first,” you commented casually.
“What?!” They all looked over at you, dumbfounded.
“No way!” Anton argued. “I literally used to be a swimmer.”
“But if you’re talking endurance—” Jeno tried to vouch for himself.
“All your big muscles just make you sink, dude,” Hyuck snorted. “You’ve got no buoyancy.”
As they kept squabbling, you were still eyeing the rope swing. “Yeah, but, Taro’s like, halfway there already.”
Their heads whipped around to see that Shotaro had, in fact, been lazily paddling towards the swing all the while they were teasing Sungchan. The guys all rushed to toss off whatever shirts, shoes, hats, or sunglasses they didn’t want to get wet, practically shoving each other in their haste to get in the water and race towards the rope swing. The boat swayed a little with their movements, and you grabbed Sungchan’s arm for stability, the only one of them who hadn’t taken your bait.
Shotaro turned around when he heard all the splashes behind him, confusion turning to momentary panic as they all rushed at him.
“Hurry up! You’re going to lose your head start!” Sungchan yelled out to him.
“What?!” He began backstroking faster. “I didn’t know this was a race!”
Karina was already in one of the inflatables off the back of the boat, and Ningning gracefully dove off the back platform to join in her one of the other ones.
Looking back up at Sungchan, you couldn’t help but burst into laughter at how perfectly that had worked. He was laughing too, one of his hands dropping to your waist to pull you closer to him.
“Thanks for the save there,” he chuckled, thumb sneaking under the shirt you were wearing to rub circles into the bare skin above your swimsuit bottoms. “Did you put sunscreen on?”
“Back at the cabin,” you confirmed. “Hate to disappoint.”
“You could’ve lied and said no.”
“I am nothing if not an honest and pure soul,” you put a hand over your heart as your words were laced with sarcasm.
Sungchan snickered at this, his smile so bright you could forget about the sun, leaning in even closer to him.
“Sungchan.”
“Mhm?” He looked down at you, tilting his head inquisitively.
“Can I kiss you?”
“In front of everyone?” He gasped, still teasing.
“That’s a little bit the point.” You couldn’t take your eyes off him—so gorgeous it really was unfair. “And also, I really want to kiss you right now.”
“What a coincidence—I want to kiss you too.”
You grabbed the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to yours. He immediately responded in turn, his other hand that wasn’t on your hip going to cup your cheek. The sounds of various taunts, cheers, and whistles all faded out behind the roaring in your ears.
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It was your last night in the cabin, and you were of course celebrating with one last bonfire. Your group of friends were spread out between the firepit, the hammock, and the other lounge furniture on the spacious deck. You and Sungchan were tucked onto a small loveseat by the table of food, idly chatting as you sipped your drink and he nibbled off the snack offerings in front of you.
The sliding glass door opened behind you, one of your friends walking out from inside the cabin. Glancing up, you saw that it was Mark, his eyes down on his phone screen as he shut the door behind him.
“Those little rolls from Mrs. Han’s restaurant were really good,” Sungchan sighed happily, hand on his stomach.
“There’s still one more,” you pointed out. “Take it.”
He looked uncertain for a moment, but you nudged him with your foot insistently.
“Everybody’s already had one. Go ahead.”
Sungchan had just reached forward towards the last roll as Mark walked by, eyes on his phone as he swiped it from the plate. The man next to you just sighed dejectedly, sitting back in his seat.
“Hey, Sungchan was going to eat that,” you called after Mark loudly. Not too rude, just making him aware as he clearly hadn’t been paying attention.
Mark turned around, looking at you two, then down at the roll in his hand in confusion. He offered it back out to Sungchan. “Oh, sorry man, I didn’t realize—”
Sungchan waved him off. “It’s okay, you can have—”
You stood up, walked over, and snatched it out of Mark’s hand. “Thanks, bye.”
Mark paused, as if he were thinking about saying something else, but opted not to, walking over to sit with Jeno and Hyuck by the fire.
You sat back down next to Sungchan and placed it in his hand. “Here.”
“Thanks, Y/N,” Sungchan was clearly fighting a smile as he looked down at his feet. He tore the roll in half, offering one half out to you.
You took it gratefully, tapping your half against his in a little cheers before you both simultaneously stuffed the whole thing into your mouths in one go. Looking at him with his puffed-out cheeks, knowing that yours definitely looked exactly the same made you burst out laughing, and your hand flew up to cover your mouth and keep any crumbs in. Sungchan was clearly struggling to not spit out his half-chewed food as he started laughing too, turning away from you and slapping his leg.
When you had finally chewed and swallowed the bread without choking, and composed yourself again, you turned back to Sungchan, still well aware of the faint, smitten smile on your lips. He was already facing you, watching you with a fond sparkle in his eyes. He reached out, brushing a couple crumbs from the side of your mouth with his thumb.
“Oh, thanks.” You habitually wiped the other side of your mouth just in case.
“I’m curious…” He said quietly, grabbing one of your hands to gently play with your fingers. “Have you picked out what we’re doing for our first date yet?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“I don’t want to spoil anything.” You then added a teasing, “Plus, we have to get home first. Who knows, your car might get another flat on the way back and then we’ll get stranded out here and die.”
He burst into soft chuckles. “Since you won’t be navigating, I think we’ll make it back just fine.”
“I like those odds,” you beamed.
“Me too.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, then murmured by your ear, “I like our odds a lot, I think.”
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The next day found you in the passenger seat of Sungchan’s car, wearing his hoodie and humming along to whatever he was playing over the speakers. The car had a full tank of gas, four inflated tires, and the maps app was not in your hands.
“You know, I get it now,” Sungchan spoke into the peaceful quiet abruptly.
You lolled your head over to look at him questioningly. “Get what?”
“Why you were suspicious of me at first.”
“You finally realized how stupidly hot you are?” You snorted, reaching over to pinch his cheek.
“I’m thinking I should’ve been more suspicious of you, actually.” He pinched your cheek right back, and you smacked his hand away. He just laughed, grabbing your hand and entwining your fingers over the console.
“Why’s that?”
“We haven’t even been on our first date and I feel like I’ve gone head over heels right down the mountainside.”
You groaned and shook your head. “I was suspicious of you for the wrong reason. You’re not a player or anything, you’re actually too sweet for my own good.”
“Your own good?”
“Yeah, you keep saying shit like that and I’m going to do something crazy like say ‘I love you’ on our first date.”
He laughed, squeezing your hand. “Challenge accepted.”
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⤷ masterlist
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mistiell · 3 months
Text
We Keep this Love in a Photograph
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summary: since Joel gifted you a polaroid camera for your birthday, you've developed a habit of sneaking pictures of him whenever possible. He doesn't think he's worth the film "wasted" (His words, not yours), but after catching you looking over your accumulated gallery, you manage to win him over.
wc: 1.1k
warnings: tooth rotting fluff, Joel's a little self conscious, Reader's gender isn't specified, and they have hair but the length isn't specified either. If I accidentally did use a gendered term, lmk and I shall fix it. <3 NOT PROOFREAD (will likely come back to fix any mistakes later)
a/n: HOLY SHIT I'M BACK!!! This fic was inspired by this TikTok. I saw it and the Joel obsession possessed me so viscerally I had to make a comeback lmao.
**NOTE: I've linked ways to help Palestine here. If you're in a position to donate anything at all, please do! If not, you can reblog the post that's linked so it gets out to more people.
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It started on your birthday.
You’d shared with Joel one evening, wrapped warm and snug in his arms within your soft haven of sheets, during one of those late night conversations where vulnerability doesn’t seem like a thing so daunting, that you used to love photography. Loved immortalizing things you loved or things you found beautiful. He’d asked what kind of camera you’d had, what kind of things you usually took pictures of.
“Polaroid.” you’d told him softly, fighting you keep your eyes open with his tracing shapes into the curve of your waist. “And I already told you. Whatever I found beautiful.”
The morning of your birthday, you woke to the smell of coffee and a clumsily wrapped box sitting on your bedside table with a note taped to the top; Happy birthday, honey. Love, Joel. And in smaller print near the bottom left corner; P.S. Wait until I’m here to open it. Wanna see your face.
You’d smiled, bashful, brushed your teeth in record time, scooped up the box, and made your way downstairs towards the sound sizzling and the tapping of a spatula on a pan. He gave you a good morning kiss, pretended to make a fuss about waiting until after breakfast to open it and watched with a smile as you carefully tore it open, popped off the lid, and visibly softened at first sight of the contents.
It was a polaroid camera. Coincidentally, the very same one you’d had twenty years ago.
You’d cried, he’d panicked. You hugged him so fiercely, any worry that he’d fucked the whole thing vanished as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and held you close.
That was months ago, and in the time since, you’ve accumulated quite the gallery. You take pictures of just about anything and everything, but your main muse is Joel.
Which is what’s led you to have half a shoe box full of polaroid of mostly him. He’s no idea of your little stash, and you intend to keep it that way. You’ve come to learn he’s got a thing about being photographed. Always nitpicking his appearance no matter what you say. He asks sometimes when he catches you why you don’t choose something nicer to look at, and your answer is generally always the same. There is nothing nicer. He walks into a room, and all you want to look at is him. Yeah, he’s got some more lines, got some more meat on his bones, his hair is a little more grey than it is brown these days. But he doesn’t see it the way you do.
He’s got crows feet and smile lines etched almost as deep as the crease between his brows. He looks healthy now that he’s actually got food to eat, meals you’re both sure to share every morning in your kitchen and every evening in the dining hall. His greys are a tangible reminder that he’s alive, that he’s survived, and that he now gets to live, and you’re incomprehensibly grateful for every russet strand turned silver. He’s all the more beautiful for all of it. And here, tucked into your armchair, polaroid pinched between thumb and forefinger, you get to commit every little detail picked up by your camera to memory.
Your gaze follows the sloping curve of his lovely nose, profile softened by the sun shining white behind. It’s only one half of his face, but the beaming smile he’s sporting makes you feel whole. His hair was just starting to get longer, then, curling near his nape and flicking round his ears to kiss his jaw.
“What’s all this?” You startle, head leaning into the plush back of the chair to look at him upside down as you press the pictures into your diaphragm. He seems curious, if a little confused.
Caught, you swallow, “If I said nothing, would you believe me?”
“Not for a second.” He smiles teasingly, bending to give you a quick peck, bottom lip warm where it slots between yours. Your hold on the photos loosens, and when his gaze dips to them, the smile shifts into something closer to a frown, a little cagey, “S’ that me?”
“Yeah.” You answer simply, before joking tentatively, “Swear I’m not a creep. You’re just pretty.”
“See now, that’s exactly what a creep would say.” He teases, and you’re glad for it – that he’s not upset. Rounding the chair, he sits on the arm, elbow propped up on the soft back of it and knuckles warm on the nape of your neck.
“Pretty.” He echoes, blowing a short puff of air out his nose, “Never been called that before.”
“Well, you are.”
He smiles again, bashful and a little disbelieving. There’s a short moment where he just looks at you like that, backs of his fingers sliding down your spine a few notches then back up in a tender line before he juts his chin toward your collection. “Show me?”
Warmth blooms in your stomach and fizzes up behind your sternum. You grin, handing him the one you were holding before sifting through the shoe box for your best works. He accepts your compliments and sweet talking reluctantly, but hangs onto your every word as you describe where you were, what you were doing, what made you sneak the picture in the first place.
You start to worry his limited responses mean he’s gotten caught up in his head until his hand slides up the side of your neck and settles over the side of your head, the warmth of his calloused palm encompassing the entirety of your ear as he guides your temple to his lips.
“Love you.” He murmurs into your hair, and the warmth sizzles like its carbonated, bubbling and burbling within the cage of your ribs.
You turn your face, slip your fingers beneath the curtain of hair at his nape and lift your chin to kiss him soft and slow. He rubs an affectionate line into the soft skin behind your hear as he hums, vibrations thrumming against your lips.
You lean back just enough to murmur, “I love you to.”
He smiles, kisses you again. And again. And once more. He asks you to show him more of your pictures, and you oblige. It’s early evening when you’re finally through, at which point Ellie’s come home and Joel’s started on dinner. You let her sift through the polaroids while you move to join Joel at the counter.
You won’t realize until later that she’s snuck a photo of the two of you by the stove, Joel’s large palm on the small of your back where you’ve taken over stirring a pot, gazing at you like you’re the only thing he’d like to listen to for the rest of his days as you talk and talk and talk.
That one, he hangs on the fridge.
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cherryobx · 2 months
Text
Today
a/n: part 2 of this fic, can be read on its own!
pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader
summary: the morning after getting drunk and trying to kiss your best friend the previous night
warnings: language, one sexual innuendo i think, mentions of getting drunk, being hangover and nausea (but no detailed descriptions)
wc: 1.5k
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The sun shines directly into your eyes through the windows of your bedroom and forces you awake. It’s almost painful. You get up to pull down the blinds to make the room dark and being in there bearable. 
You fall back into bed and bury your face in the numerous pillows propped up against the headboard, regretting drinking last night. The headache and nausea are bad but you’ve definitely experienced worse. You’ll live.
You reach for your phone which you usually place on the nightstand for the night, but it isn’t there. Lifting your head from the pillows you squint in confusion. There’s a water bottle, an Advil pill and a piece of paper there instead.
Sitting up, you grab the note first. Rafe’s neat handwriting fills the sticky note.
Had to go home for a sec. I’ll come by later. Make that hangover your bitch. - R
Right, he stayed the night. You smile at that and place it back down on the nightstand before popping the Advil into your mouth and downing almost the entire bottle of water in one go.
Memories from the previous night slowly start flooding in. Best friend’s birthday party. Too much alcohol. Hot tub. Phone ruined by said hot tub. Rafe taking you home. Begging Rafe to kiss you.
Oh my God. You asked your best friend to kiss you while drunk. That is so embarrassing. Even though it’s exactly what you’ve wanted for a while now. You weren’t planning on spilling your feelings to him while drunk like this. How can you look him in the eye when he comes by later knowing that you tried to pursue him romantically last night?
The hangover is now battling with your nerves and it’s not a very good combination. In an attempt to feel like a human again, you get up from bed, brush your teeth, fix your hair as much as possible and remove the makeup from last night and finally change into something other than your pyjamas.
Even those little mundane tasks are a bit difficult as your head spun and pounded simultaneously. You lay back in your bed to catch your breath but drift off instead.
Rafe keeps his word and comes over sometime in the afternoon, after a trip to the nearest technology store and buying you a new phone just like he had promised.
“Hey.” You feel a hand on your shoulder, shaking you gently to wake you up from your slumber.
“Oh, hey.” You sit up and rub the sleep from your eyes.
Rafe is sitting on the edge of your bed and it’s giving you flashbacks from last night when you two were sitting just like this. But this time the air is different. There’s something unspoken between you two.
He gives you a once over before shoving a small box into your hands. Your eyes fall to your hands in your lap and see a brand new phone in them. It’s the newer model of your previous one and you know for a fact it’s expensive.
“You didn’t.” Disbelief and shock are evident in your tone of voice. 
“I told you I would.” He seems almost proud of himself.
You scoff. “Asshole. I can’t accept this. Take it back.” You attempt to give it back to him but he pulls his hands away and holds them in the air, refusing to take it.
“No. It’s yours.”
“I don’t want it,” you rebut but it’s no use. He refuses to take it back.
“You need it.”
“I could’ve bought one with my own money. I don’t want you spending so much on me. It’s insane, Rafe.”
“I don’t mind spending a little on you once in a while.” He shrugs like it’s nothing. Like this huge amount of money means nothing to him.
“A little? For fuck’s sake, Rafe, this is a thousand dollar phone! That is way too much.” Your voice is high pitched and desperate. You really can’t accept this. It’s too much. You feel bad for him spending such a sum on you.
“Is it? Don’t really care.”
“Oh my fucking God, you’re impossible!” 
He chuckles. “You love me.”
“I’m about to whoop your fucking ass.”
“Kinky.” He smirks and lays down on his side, body propped up by his forearm and elbow.
You stare at the phone between your hands and then him. You know he won’t budge. Once Rafe has set his mind to something it’s impossible to change it. You also know he won’t take the phone back out of spite. If you don’t want something it’’s exactly what he’ll give you.
“Thank you,” you say, finally giving up. It’s impossible to convince him to take it back.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. Your heart tightens at the nickname he uses. It’s not abnormal for him to use nicknames like this for you, but today it feels immensely different.
“Have you eaten anything today?” he asks with a slightly worried tone.
You shake your head. “No. I’ve been too nauseous all morning.”
At that he pulls his phone out of the pocket of his shorts, taps a few buttons and then hands it to you. “Order something then.”
You look at him dumbfounded. “What?”
“Food, sweetheart. Order something. You need to eat,” he insists.
Your first thought is that it’s such a sweet gesture which shows your best friend really cares about you. The second one is that he’s about to spend even more money on you. And that you don’t like.
“Rafe.” 
He knows what this is about but refuses to let you argue in any way. “Shut up and get what you want.” 
You zip your lips and scroll on the app on his phone, looking through the options the restaurants offer and choosing what looks and feels the most appetising at the moment. You decide on just fries and chicken nuggets. Your usual hangover food pick. They somehow taste even better than they normally do when you’re battling a killer headache.
“Classic,” he chuckles as you hand him his phone back and he takes a look at what you chose.
He picks something for himself too and then presses the order button and pays for both of your food.
As you wait for the food to arrive, he offers to help you set up your new, extremely expensive, phone. He scoots next to you on the bed, both of you now sitting beside each other, backs against the headboard and your sides together, touching each other. Your skin tingles where it touches his and the feeling is almost addictive.
He taps away on the screen, focused on getting all your data over to this new phone but you just look at him, taking him in. He’s so into the task in front of him that he doesn’t even notice your soft eyes on him. How you look at him with adoration in your eyes and a tightness in your chest.
The familiar urge to kiss him from last night resurfaces. Didn’t he mention he wanted this too? You’re not sure. What if you remember incorrectly? What if your memory is lying to you or making his promises from last night up?
But the need is so strong and your mind is just telling you to go for it. Is this a bad idea? Too late.
Your hand reaches out before you stop yourself, before you can think twice about your actions. You must be still drunk from last night because where is this sudden courage coming from?
You place your hand on his chin and gently turn his head to face you. His face is full of curiosity and confusion.
“I’m sorry,” you say, apologising in advance for your actions because you don’t know what the aftermath of this will be. Leaning in, you place your lips on his which takes Rafe by surprise.
He’s taken aback for a second and pulls away to look at you. He’s searching your eyes for any hesitation or regret. When he doesn’t find a shred of them there, he drops your new phone from his hands, disregarding it somewhere in the sheets and grabbing your face with both of his hands and reuniting your lips once again, kissing you desperately. Like he needs it to breathe. Like he’s hungry and has been starving for months.
It’s feverish. You’re both satisfying a craving you’ve been trying to ignore for so long and all of those feelings are unleashed into that kiss. 
“Don’t ever fucking apologize for that again,” he says when you break apart to catch your breath. His forehead is resting against yours and it’s so intimate on so many levels you feel lightheaded.
You open your mouth, wholeheartedly intending to apologise again but he stops you in your tracks. A ‘shut up’ leaves his mouth before it’s on yours again, shutting you up very effectively. 
“Ass,” you mumble in between kisses.
“You kiss me with that mouth?” He fakes shock at your words.
“Shut up.” You roll your eyes and use his tactic to shut him up instead.
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