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lupinqs · 1 month ago

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paige x reader request!! okay so reader has never dated before (she’s always focused on school and boys around her never seem to “meet up” to her standards….right lol) when she gets to college she meets p and they become really close. they end up falling for each other but reader is conflicted bc she has thought she’s been straight but looking back all the signs were there. she’s never wanted to have sex before (men are scary) but she wants to with p, she trusts her. this could be p talking reader through this realization and/or smut (p being really sweet w her bc it’s her first time yk)!! thank you!!

FIRST TIME ━━ paige bueckers x reader

☆ ━ summary: your first time is with paige

☆ ━ word count: 5.3K

☆ ━ warnings: smut with plot (honestly just p eating r out)

☆ ━ links: my masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: my gift to everyone after that hellish lottery… fuck dallas bro 😐😐 also this is not my best work this month has been fucking terrible so my bad

FOR YOU, it’s always been school. School, school, school. By seventh grade, you already knew you wanted to go into medicine. Your parents both work in the field—your mom at the hospital, your dad in his private practice. You grew up hearing their stories over dinner, listening to the ups and downs of their days, feeling that pull towards something important, something that could make a difference. The way they talked about their work, you couldn’t help but imagine yourself there, following in their footsteps.

So, you worked. Hard. From the moment you set your sights on medicine, there was no looking back. High school flew by in a steady cycle of textbooks, flashcards, volunteer shifts, and internships, each one a piece of the puzzle you were putting together. You spent weekends shadowing doctors, hours in study groups, a summer interning at the local hospital where you first learned what a real emergency room felt like. Even then, nothing could shake you from the goal you’d carved out for yourself. You’d known from the start where you wanted to end up: Yale. As a Connecticut native, it felt like a given. You saw yourself there so clearly that the idea of not getting in didn’t even occur to you.

Until it did. And when the rejection letter came, it was like the ground had fallen out beneath you. There was shock, disappointment, embarrassment. You’d done everything right—how had that not been enough? But still, UConn is a good college, and the goal is med school anyway. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter where you get your undergraduate degree, that you’ll just work even harder this time. When it comes to med school applications, there won’t be any mistakes, no missed chances. You won’t let it happen again—you will be going to Yale.

The thing is, school’s been your everything for so long that you don’t have much of a life outside of it. You had a first kiss once, an awkward moment with a boy who you never talked to again. But after that, there hasn’t been anything more. You’ve always been busy, and to be honest, there’s never been anyone who made you want to carve out time. Every relationship around you seemed like a distraction, a place for people to get hurt or get sidetracked, neither of which were part of your plan. Your friends like to tease you about it, saying your standards are too high, that no one will ever live up to the expectations you’ve set. And maybe that was true. Maybe that’s what it is. The boys just don’t meet your standards. You accept that, not caring to pay any mind to them (though they certainly paid mind to you), continuing to stay focused.

But at UConn, things start to feel different. College is strange that way—there’s structure, but there’s also space, a little more breathing room. It’s not like high school, where everyone knew what you were doing all the time, where your schedule was mapped out. Here, people let loose, go out, drink, stay up until all hours for no reason at all. You do it, too, and you realize it’s fun. But you never let it go further, never bother to get any sort of romance or even hook-ups involved in your life—because you’re still who you are. Your studies come first, always. You continuously remind yourself of that. Med school is the goal, and you work towards it every day.

Besides, you’re not even really interested in dating or anything of the sort.

That is, until you meet a certain blonde-haired basketball player.

It happens during the second semester of your freshman year, in a class you’re only taking for the credit. You barely even remember signing up for it—some easy elective with minimal workload to round out your schedule. You don’t care about the subject, don’t even plan on giving it much effort beyond the occasional assignment because you know it’ll be easy anyways. But then she walks in.

Paige Bueckers. You’ve heard the name before, of course. Everyone has. She’s the sophomore basketball phenom, the face of UConn athletics, practically a celebrity on campus. You’ve never paid her much attention—basketball isn’t really your thing—but the buzz around her is impossible to ignore. Still, when she strolls into the classroom, disheveled and running a little late, it takes you a moment to connect the dots. Her hair’s thrown into a low bun, messy strands framing her face. She’s in a gray UConn sweatsuit, the hem of her hoodie slightly frayed, her glasses sitting casually on the bridge of her nose. She scans the room, sees that the only open seat is next to you, and slides into it without hesitation.

“Hey,” she says, flashing you a quick smile before dropping her bag on the floor.

And that’s it. Nothing monumental. Just a simple greeting. But there’s something about her—her presence, the casual ease with which she takes up space—that immediately hooks your attention.

At first, you try to keep your head down. She’s just another classmate, someone you’ll probably never see again once the semester’s over. But Paige doesn’t make it easy to ignore her. She leans over to you during class, whispering comments about the lecture or the professor’s awkward hand gestures. She’s funny—unexpectedly so—and you catch yourself smiling at her jokes even when you try not to.

You notice other things, too. Like the sharp line of her jaw, the way her broad shoulders stretch the fabric of her sweatshirt, the subtle curve of muscle beneath her long sleeves. She’s not the type of traditional feminine pretty that you’d expect, not delicate or polished. No makeup, no carefully curated outfits. But there’s something about her—an almost sculptural beauty, like she’s been chiseled from marble by a particularly ambitious artist. It’s distracting. And you don’t get distracted easily.

When your friends convince you to go to your first basketball game of the season, you tell yourself it’s just for the experience. A chance to break out of your usual routine. But then you see her on the court. And suddenly, everything makes sense. Paige doesn’t just play basketball; she owns it. She’s gorgeous out there, all fire and intensity, her movements fluid and commanding. You find yourself watching her more than the game, mesmerized by the way she moves, just her presence in general.

After that, you start looking forward to class in a way you never have before. It’s not the subject, obviously. It’s Paige. The way she smiles at you when she walks in, the way she leans over to whisper something ridiculous during a particularly boring lecture. She’s the best part of your day, and you don’t even try to deny it.

When the two of you get paired up for a group project, it feels like fate. You go to her apartment to work on it, expecting the same easy banter from class, but it’s more than that. The two of you get off track almost immediately, laughing over something stupid, and before you know it, hours have passed and you’ve barely made any progress. You end up staying way later than planned, both of you scrambling to get back on task before you have to call it a night. By the time you leave, you’ve swapped numbers, and from then on, the texts come easily.

It starts with class updates, but soon it’s more. Late night conversations that have nothing to do with school, Facetimes, too. Hanging out becomes natural: grabbing frozen yogurt, wandering around campus, studying together even when you don’t need to. You talk and talk and talk, and somehow, it’s never boring. Paige has this way of making everything feel lighter, like the weight you usually carry around doesn’t exist when you’re with her.

One night, after one of your froyo runs, you’re sitting in her car. The frozen yogurt is long gone, but neither of you seems ready to say goodbye. The conversation slows, dipping into a comfortable silence. You glance at her, and she’s already looking at you. There’s a shift in the air, something unspoken passing between you. And then, suddenly, she’s kissing you.

You freeze. Not because you don’t want it, but because it’s so unexpected. Your brain can’t catch up with what’s happening, and for a moment, you’re completely still. Paige pulls back almost immediately, her face flushing as she stumbles through an apology. “I’m sorry—I thought—God, I must’ve read that wrong. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” you interrupt, shaking your head as you finally find your voice. “I didn’t mind.”

Her eyes search yours, uncertain, and then the silence settles again. Before you can second-guess yourself, you lean back in. This time, the kiss is slower, more deliberate. Her hand cups your jaw, warm and steady, while your fingers find their way to her arm, brushing over the solid muscle of her bicep. The center console is a nuisance, forcing you both into awkward angles, but you don’t care. It’s all soft lips and quiet breaths, a perfect mix of hunger and gentleness.

When she finally pulls away, she drives you back to your dorm, her voice soft as she says, “I had a good time tonight.”

You manage a quiet “Me too,” before slipping out of the car.

Back in your dorm, your roommate is asleep, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, your heart still racing. You just kissed Paige Bueckers. A girl. And you liked it. More than liked it—you want to do it again.

The realization hits you like a freight train. You’ve never thought about girls like that before, never let your mind wander there. You always assumed you were straight, just too busy or too picky to find the right guy. But now, as you think about Paige, about her hands on your face, her lips against yours, it all starts to make sense. You never wanted boys. Not really. That kiss in high school with that random guy had felt wrong, awkward. The idea of being with a man had never appealed to you—except for maybe Drew Starkey, but even that felt more like a joke than anything real.

But this? The thought of Paige, of her smile, her laugh, the way she made you feel like you were the only person in the room—that feels real. And it’s terrifying.

Because now you know two things for sure:

You’re gay.

And you really, really like Paige Bueckers.

And it turns out that she really likes you, too.

Because that first kiss turns into another kiss. And another. And now, every time you’re alone together, it happens like clockwork.

The two of you have started hanging out in your rooms more often, the need for privacy overtaking any desire to sit in common areas or go out. Paige’s teammates joke that the two of you have become “homebodies,” but they don’t know the half of it. They don’t know how, as soon as the door closes, her lips find yours, soft and insistent, her hands framing your face as if you’re the most delicate thing she’s ever touched.

You’re not dating—at least, not officially. You haven’t talked about it, haven’t dared to address what’s happening between you. It’s easier this way, or so you tell yourself. But a part of you wonders why Paige doesn’t bring it up. Why she hasn’t said anything about what this is or what it could be. And that bothers you, even if you try to push it to the back of your mind. Then again, you’ve never done relationships, so maybe this in between is for the better—at least, for now.

Tonight, her teammates have gone to Ted’s. Paige had asked if you wanted to go, but when you wrinkled your nose and said, “Not really,” she grinned and said, “Me neither.” So, here you are, alone in her dorm room, a movie playing on the small TV mounted to the wall. Neither of you are watching it.

You’re lying on her bed, her weight hovering above you, and there’s no space, no breath between the two of you. Her lips are on yours, insistent and hungry, her body pressing against yours as if she can’t get close enough. There’s an urgency in her kiss tonight, a need that you can feel deep in your chest. You kiss her back with equal fervor, your hands tangling in her hair, pulling her closer, trying to anchor yourself to her.

Her hands are on your hips, her fingers digging in just enough to make you gasp against her mouth. You feel her smile against your lips at the sound and it makes you smile, too.

And, for the first time, you find yourself wanting more. Your skin feels like it’s on fire, your nerves alight with a buzzing energy that you don’t fully understand but don’t want to lose. Paige seems to sense it too because her hands slide up your sides, her thumbs tracing slow, deliberate lines against your skin.

Her lips leave yours, trailing along your jaw, down to your neck. The kisses are messy and open-mouthed, her breath hot and ragged against your skin. When her hands slip under your shirt, tracing over your stomach, you shiver.

“Can I take it off?” she asks, her voice soft but tinged with want.

You hesitate for a moment before nodding, lifting your arms to help her pull the shirt over your head. It’s gone in an instant, and you’re left in just your bra. The cool air against your skin makes you shiver again, but it’s nothing compared to the way Paige looks at you.

Her eyes roam over you, but not in a way that makes you feel objectified. It’s more like she’s in awe, like she can’t believe you’re here with her, like she can��t believe she gets to see you like this. It’s overwhelming.

You look away, suddenly self-conscious. It’s nerve-wracking, you’ve never done this before, and you know that Paige has. But Paige also knows that you haven’t, which you suppose makes things easier. You feel her fingers catch your chin, gently turning your head back to face her. Her touch is so tender it nearly makes you cry.

“If you wanna stop, tell me,” she says, her blue eyes locked onto yours, her voice steady and sincere.

You shake your head, your heart pounding. “I don’t wanna stop,” you say quickly, and then, after a pause, you add, your face flushing slightly with embarrassment, “I’m just a little nervous.”

She smiles softly, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Her hands move to your ribs, tracing slow, soothing lines along your skin. “It’s okay,” she murmurs. “You don’t gotta be. I’m right here.”

Her words settle something inside you, easing the tension in your chest. You nod, and she kisses you again, her lips slow and deliberate against yours. The urgency from earlier is still there, but now it’s tempered by something softer, something deeper. You want her closer, impossibly closer.

Her hands slide up your sides once more, stopping just below your chest, and the anticipation alone makes your breath catch. When her palms finally cup your breasts through your bra, her touch is firm yet reverent, and the sensation makes you gasp against her mouth. Your breathing deepens, your chest rising and falling under her hands.

It’s instinctual, the way your hands move to her waist, your fingers slipping underneath the hem of her long-sleeve shirt. Her skin is warm beneath your touch, and you can feel the subtle definition of her abs as your hands explore, your palms smoothing over her sides.

Paige groans softly into your mouth, her body pressing harder against yours as if she’s trying to fuse you together. Then she pulls away just enough to tug her long-sleeve shirt over her head in one fluid motion, tossing it carelessly across the room. The moment it’s gone, she’s back, her lips finding yours again, more insistent than ever.

She’s in just her sports bra now, and you can’t help but let your fingers trail along the edges of it, brushing against the smooth fabric and the warm skin beneath. Paige shivers under your touch, and the knowledge that you’re affecting her this much makes your heart race even faster.

Then you feel her hands move behind your back, her fingers toying with the clasp of your bra. She hesitates, her lips hovering over yours as if she’s waiting for your permission.

You pull back just slightly, your lips still brushing hers as you murmur, “Take it off.”

Her eyes flicker with something intense, something almost vulnerable, as she nods. She unclasps your bra with practiced ease, sliding the straps down your shoulders before pulling it away completely. For a moment, she doesn’t move, her gaze dropping to your bare chest. Her throat bobs as she swallows hard, and when she finally speaks, her voice is low and husky.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” she mutters, her eyes locking with yours for a heartbeat before her lips are on yours again, desperate and consuming.

Her hands return to your breasts, cupping and kneading them in a way that makes your head fall back against the pillows. A quiet whimper escapes your throat, and Paige groans in response, the sound vibrating against your lips.

Her mouth begins to wander, leaving your lips to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jawline, then lower to your neck. She lingers there, her teeth grazing your skin before she soothes the slight sting with her tongue. Each kiss feels deliberate, like she’s trying to memorize the way you taste, the way you react to her touch.

She moves lower, her lips brushing along your collarbone, her breath warm and uneven against your skin. Her hands continue their slow, deliberate exploration of your chest, her thumbs brushing over your nipples in a way that makes your breath hitch.

Her lips trace the edges of your breasts, teasing and deliberate, and it’s almost too much. Your fingers tighten their hold on her sides, your nails digging slightly into her skin as you try to ground yourself.

Paige’s lips move with an unrelenting intensity, open-mouthed kisses peppered across your chest as though she’s determined to worship every inch of you. When her mouth closes over one of your nipples, the heat and pressure of her tongue send a jolt through your body, and you swallow hard, trying to keep yourself steady. The sensation is new, overwhelming in the best way, and you feel a steady, growing thrum between your legs that you can’t ignore.

She doesn’t rush, her lips and tongue moving with precision, her hands anchoring you to the bed as if she doesn’t want you to float away. Her mouth trails from one breast to the other, lavishing attention in a way that makes your breath hitch and your fingers curl into the sheets.

“Paige,” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper, your chest rising and falling heavily as her lips continue their descent.

She hums softly against your skin, a sound that vibrates through you as her mouth moves lower. She lingers over your stomach, her lips and tongue leaving a warm, wet trail across your skin. When she sucks on a spot just below your navel, you know she’s leaving a mark, but you don’t care. The sensation is intoxicating, her gentle pressure grounding you as your thoughts scatter into nothing but her touch, her presence.

Then, her hands move to the waistband of your sweatpants, pausing just above your hips. Her fingers don’t tug or pull, just hover there, her thumbs brushing lightly against your skin. You glance down at her, heart pounding in your chest, only to find her already looking up at you.

Her eyes are soft, full of a question she hasn’t yet asked, though there’s no mistaking the want clouding her gaze. When she finally speaks, her voice is quiet, careful, “Do you want me to?”

You swallow thickly, your throat dry. Do you want her to? God, yes. It’s not even a question. You don’t just want her—you think you might need her in this moment, need her to fix that ache that’s been building between your legs since she first kissed you tonight.

But it’s scary. Already, you’ve never been this exposed with anyone before, and this—this is something else entirely. A deeper kind of intimacy, one you thought you’d be ready for but now realize the weight of. Whenever you pictured what your first time might be like, you never really thought it would be too important, but now, here, with Paige above you, it feels monumental.

But who else would it be, if not her? Paige, who makes you feel safe, wanted, adored. You trust her in a way you’ve never trusted anyone. She’s kind, patient, and you like her so much it almost hurts. It only makes sense for it to be her. Even if it’s scary. Even if the thought creeps in—what if you’re not enough for her? What if you’re different from the others she’s been with, and she’s disappointed?

Your thoughts are interrupted as Paige reaches for your hand, her fingers threading through yours in a gentle, grounding gesture. Her eyes stay on yours, searching, concerned. She says your name, softly, once, then again. And then, “Baby…” Her voice cracks just slightly, and it tugs at something deep inside you. “Please don’t feel pressured. It’s okay. We don’t gotta do anything else.”

The way she says it, so sincere and unselfish, almost undoes you. You shake your head quickly, squeezing her hand in reassurance. “I don’t feel pressured,” you say, and though your voice wavers, it’s honest. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself before you continue. “Just… just keep going, please.”

She hesitates, her eyes locked on yours for a long moment, as if she’s searching for any sign of hesitation, any flicker of doubt. When she seems to find nothing but your own need and trust, she nods, her expression softening into something almost reverent.

“Okay,” she murmurs, her lips pressing a kiss to your stomach, this one gentler than the ones before, less insistent but no less meaningful. She kisses you again, and again, her hands moving slowly as her fingers hook around the waistband of your sweatpants.

She pulls them down your legs with care, her eyes flicking back to yours to make sure it’s still okay. You nod, your heart racing but your body completely at ease with her. And as Paige tosses the sweatpants aside, her hands return to your hips, her lips never far from your skin, and you feel nothing but trust, nothing but her.

She places feather-light kisses along your inner thighs, moving slowly, her lips brushing over the sensitive skin in a way that makes your breath hitch. Her hands rest on your hips, thumbs tracing lazy circles that feel both soothing and electrifying. When her lips press against the edge of your underwear, your heart races so fast it’s all you can hear.

And then, without breaking her rhythm, she tilts her head slightly and presses a soft, lingering kiss right over your clothed clit. The sensation is light, almost teasing, but it sends a shiver coursing through you. You take a shaky breath through your nose, swallowing hard, because she’s barely touched you, and already your body feels like it’s on fire.

When her fingers slide to the waistband of your underwear, she pauses, her eyes flicking up to meet yours. The unspoken question is there again, and this time, you don’t even need to think about it. “Mm-hmm,” you hum softly, nodding as your chest rises and falls a little faster.

Paige nods back, her expression soft but full of intent, and she hooks her fingers around the elastic, sliding your underwear down slowly, carefully, as if she’s unwrapping something fragile. The cool air against your skin makes you shiver, and when her gaze lowers, taking you in fully for the first time, you feel your face heat up, a mixture of anticipation and self-consciousness twisting in your chest.

Instinctively, your legs start to close, but Paige catches them gently, her hands warm and steady as she presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Don’t hide,” she murmurs, her voice low and soothing. When you don’t immediately relax, she looks up at you, sincerity written all over her face. “You’re so pretty, baby,” she says, her words soft but firm, like a promise.

Her reassurance eases some of the tension, and when she presses another kiss to your thigh—this one closer to where you want her—you let your legs fall open again, trusting her. Paige doesn’t rush. She kisses along your thigh again, then again, each one inching closer to where your body feels like it’s burning.

And then she’s there, her breath warm against your clit as she places the softest kiss there. The contact has you gasping quietly, your hips shifting involuntarily. She pauses, letting her lips linger, as if testing your response. When you let out a quiet, broken sound, she pulls back just slightly, her eyes lifting to yours as if checking one last time.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” she whispers, her hands smoothing up and down your thighs. You nod quickly, a whispered, “Okay,” tumbling out, though it feels like an understatement.

And then, without wasting any more time, Paige’s tongue slides along your core. That alone is enough to make your whole body flex, your stomach shuddering. Before you even get to process that foreign feeling of her tongue running up your slit, Paige presses her mouth against your clit completely, rolling her tongue right to the collection of nerves.

Her tongue alternates between soft, sweeping strokes and precise flicks that have you gasping for breath. It’s almost too much, and yet, not enough all at once. You bite your lip, trying to stay quiet, but a moan finally escapes when her tongue moves a certain way, hitting a spot that has your whole body tightening. The sound you make is desperate, unrestrained, and your face flushes in embarrassment. But Paige doesn’t seem to mind—if anything, she doubles down, a soft moan escaping her lips, vibrating against you that sends a fresh wave of pleasure rolling through your body.

Jesus Christ, she’s good at this. Somewhere in the back of your mind, it makes you wonder how many people she’s been with, how much practice she’s had to make you feel like this. But then her tongue slips inside you, making you forget any and all of your thoughts, before it slides back out and smoothes back along your clit.

“Mmm, P,” you manage to gasp, your voice shaky and uneven. She glances up at you, her gaze meeting yours, and the sight of her—eyes dark with want, lips glistening—sends heat flooding through you. When she holds your gaze and tilts her head just slightly, her tongue hitting that same perfect spot again, your head falls back against the pillow, a breathless cry slipping out.

“Right there?” she murmurs, her voice low and muffled against you. The vibrations of her words are enough to make you tremble, and all you can do is nod, your fingers tightening in her hair as you whisper a choked, “Yeah—yes, shit.”

Paige doesn’t let up for a second, her lips and tongue working in seamless harmony to drive you closer and closer to the edge. It’s overwhelming, how good she is at this. Every flick of her tongue, every deliberate motion feels impossibly intentional, like she knows exactly what to do to unravel you piece by piece. Your thighs tense around her, hands tangling into her blonde hair as you press her closer, hips shifting instinctively to meet her movements.

Her hands grip your thighs firmly, keeping you steady as she focuses all of her attention on you. You can feel the intensity in every motion she makes—each swirl of her tongue, every press of her lips against you is filled with purpose. She’s completely locked in, as if nothing else in the world exists but you. The tension in your stomach coils tighter and tighter, your breaths coming in short, shallow gasps.

The noises slipping from your lips are no longer something you can control. You’ve never felt anything like this before, never imagined something could feel this good. Your hips move against her instinctively, searching for more, for everything she can give you. And Paige? Paige meets you exactly where you are, matching your every movement with a rhythm that drives you absolutely wild. As your legs begin to shake, she seems to sense your need for something more, and she slides her hands beneath your thighs, lifting your legs and placing them over her shoulders to get ever closer to your wet, dripping cunt.

“Fuck,” you breathe, your voice trembling as the pressure builds higher and higher. You’re teetering on the edge, every nerve in your body alight with sensation. Paige doesn’t stop, her brows furrowing slightly in concentration as her her mouth becomes more precise and focused, tongue swiping so quickly against your wetness that you can tell she’s determined to push you over. “Paige, I think I’m gonna—”

You feel her nod against you, her tongue chasing the movement, and, between her kitten-licks and sucks, she gasps, breathless herself, “I know, I know. I gotchu, ma.”

And when she dives back in, taking your clit into her mouth and sucking it, her teeth scraping against you, her head shaking with the effort, that seems to do it. Your body tenses, toes curling as you gasp her name again, louder this time. The dam finally breaks, a wave of ecstasy crashing over you so intensely that it leaves you trembling. You cry out, your back arching off the bed as your hand grips Paige’s hair tightly, holding her to you as your orgasm overtakes you, your pussy dripping.

Fuck.

Paige doesn’t pull away, her hands steady on your thighs as she guides you through it, her tongue slowing its movements but not stopping, easing you gently down from your peak. Your body shudders with aftershocks, and you’re left breathless, your heart pounding wildly in your chest.

When Paige finally pulls back, her lips are swollen and glistening, a soft, almost smug smile on her face. She crawls up your body, pressing a kiss to your hip, then your stomach, before finally reaching your lips again. Her kiss is soft, tender, a stark contrast to the intensity of what just happened.

“Hey,” she murmurs against your lips, her voice gentle as she brushes a strand of hair from your face. “You good?”

You nod, still catching your breath, and manage to whisper, “That was… fuck, P.”

Paige grins, her fingers lightly tracing circles along your side. “Did so good for me,” she murmurs, her voice warm and affectionate. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

Her words make your heart flutter, and you bury your face in her neck, a shy smile spreading across your lips. Paige wraps her arms around you, pulling you close as you both settle into the bed. The steady rhythm of her breathing against you is soothing, grounding you after all of… that.

“I’m really glad it was you,” you murmur softly, your fingers idly tracing patterns on her shoulder.

Paige presses a kiss to the top of your head, her voice low and full of sincerity as she replies, “Me too.”

#paige bueckers #uconn wbb #paige bueckers fic #uconn huskies #wbb #uconn #wcbb #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers fluff #wcbb x reader #wlw post #wlw #lgbtq

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yunhoszn · 10 months ago

Text

save a horse, ride a cowboy

PAIRING jeong yunho x f!reader

WORD COUNT 12.25k

GENRES fluff﹒angst﹒smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, reader is a city girl but i tried not using too many gendered terms, cowboy!yunho RAHHHHH, mentions of food, reader has a boyfriend for most of the fic (an oc) but there’s no real infidelity, reader embarrasses themselves on what i’d say is a few occasions too many, yunho is down bad, masturbation (m! and brief f! receiving), lowkey voyeurism, a really bad dad joke, horse riding scene bc i feel that’s pivotal for a cowboy fic, lots and lots of kissing, marking, teasing, vaginal fingering x2, oral sex (f! receiving) x2, multiple orgasms, very slight edging, praise, pet names (baby, babe, and princess oops), unprotected sex (BE SAFE PLS I BEG), cowgirl position, pull out method, missionary position, creampie lol, ending is cute but also kinda up for interpretation? i guess <3

SUMMARY when your grandparents decided to retire and take a summer’s long vacation in celebration, they leave their house in your care. at least you don’t have to worry about feeding the farm animals. but you do have to worry about the tall, handsome cowboy who does.

MORE AND SHE’S DONE oh my god, this fic actually pulled so much out of me i think i was the one seeing stars by the end.. 😭 but i’m so proud of it and the goals i tried meeting while writing. first of all the length??? insane for me. i can hardly get myself to write anything longer thank 5k 😞 THATS ENOUGH ABOUT ME THO,,, this fic was heavily inspired by the django performance if u couldn’t tell by the banner 😝 and i’d first like to thank the academy aka @kimsohn for encouraging me to write this and fueling my delusions ilysm maya <3 i’d also like to give a huge thank u to @bro-atz TYSM FOR BETAING AND HELPING WITH SCENES BRO ur my life saver fr <3 PLS PLS PLS REBLOG IF U ENJOYED!!

Growing up, you weren’t the biggest fan of trips to your grandparents’ farm in the rural countryside.

You were born in a big city, full of all the glitz and glam. There were bright lights that lit the skyline at night, distracting from the stars that illuminated above. The wide open space was blocked by high towers and large skyscrapers. You were accustomed to the sound of bustling pedestrians and the obnoxious honking of cars in the streets. There was seldom an evening of complete silence.

Everything was so tightly packed together, within walking distance if you didn’t feel like hopping in a car for a fifteen minute drive. You appreciated the insanity of the train station in the mornings before school, the metro so busy with students and working class individuals. You came into contact with numerous strangers throughout your day to day life.

However, every summer until you were a senior in high school was a different story.

Your parents wanted to keep you humble, you supposed, shipping you off to your grandparents’ for three months. Living in the city kept people too sheltered, too primped and polished for the real world. They wanted you to have that exposure, to experience what it was like to live without the fanciness of urbanization. The nine months out of the year that you spent in the city stunted that exposure, though.

When you’d arrive at their farm, luggage stacked like you were taking a trip to London or Paris, you felt like a glorified version of Regina George. Maybe Blair Waldorf. Elle Woods? You weren’t even rich like that. Your parents were nice, middle class people. There was just something about cow manure and the fear of stepping on a freshly laid egg that made it difficult to adjust to the setting.

It was most likely your stubbornness throughout your childhood that held you back even as you got older and more educated. You thought after graduating high school, the three-months-long “retreat” would come to an end. You’d only need to visit when necessary, maybe a week max. And that was true to an extent. During your university years, you only visited the farm around once a year. You were too consumed with school to even go home sometimes.

And then your grandparents decided to retire.

Their farm had supplied the town over with produce and other home-grown items for as long as you could remember. But they were getting older and no one in the family was willing to inherit the farm or its responsibilities. In celebration of their retirement, they planned a grand vacation to visit multiple countries. Their itinerary spanned an entire summer, just like your trips to the farm when you were younger.

Because you were the only one familiar enough with the area, they enlisted you to housesit while they were gone. You tried to get out of it, but they didn’t trust anyone else as much as you, despite your convictions about country life. So you reluctantly agreed, packing up your things to prepare for another grueling summer at the farm one last time.

But there was a bit of a setback.

”What do you mean someone’s living in the farmhouse behind their house?” You shriek into the receiver, holding your phone between your shoulder and ear as you zip up your final bag. Your mom sighs on the other end.

”Your grandma just only now told me, apparently it slipped her mind,” you can hear the sympathy in her tone. “He’s this boy who grew up in the town and he’s gonna take over the farm for them on the condition that they still live on the property. She said he shouldn’t get in your way and he’s expecting your presence. You’ll only see him if you ever actually go out to the farm and when he brings groceries to the house.”

”Great. Another thing I didn’t sign up for.” You mutter, giving your bedroom a once over to make sure you’re not forgetting anything. “Is there anything else I should know before I get there, like a secret pet or maybe a family living in the attic?”

”Watch the attitude, Y/N,” she warns, and you shut up immediately. “Look, I know this isn’t ideal. You’re a grown adult and you’d rather spend your summer going out with your friends, but you already told your grandparents you would do this for them. It’ll be over before you know it.”

You sigh, nodding even though she can’t see it. At least you didn’t have to worry about caring for their farm animals. It was time to think of this as a staycation rather than torture. Sure, your friends were going to be living it up in the Bahamas for a week and your boyfriend was going to be here while you were surrounded by nothing but flat landscape for acres.

Perhaps it was good for you that there would be someone else on the property. You might’ve started to feel scared being alone in the middle of nowhere for so long. Though, your boyfriend probably won’t be the biggest fan of you staying within the vicinity of another man for three months. You’d just deal with that later.

The drive to your grandparents’ farm is actually more peaceful than anything else. Driving for long periods of time wasn’t your favorite thing to do, but doing it by yourself with nothing but your music filling your ears was a sort of therapy. It allowed you to come to terms with your fate for the summer and what it could entail, even if it wasn’t exactly what you had in mind.

Seeing the lush greenery for miles upon miles as you neared their home evoked a sense of tranquility within you. If you kept a positive outlook on your situation, you would make it through these next few months unscathed and your sanity still intact. Maybe you despised the wide open space for years when you were a kid, but now that you’re an adult, you think you could learn to appreciate it and its beauty.

As long as the guy living in the farmhouse didn’t bother you like your grandmother said, everything would be—

Oh.

You pull up in front of the house, already thrown for a loop by the tall, very handsome stranger walking his dog back from the mailbox. His dark hair obscured his eyes, a bandana tied around his neck to match with the one hanging off the Border Collie’s collar. The two turn around at the sound of your engine, stopping in their tracks once you’ve parked.

He brings a hand up to shield the sun from his eyes, watching cautiously as you park slowly. You don’t know why you’re so anxious, it’s not like you’ll be interacting with him much during your stay anyways. There’s something about his slender figure and the fact that he was so clearly dedicated to what he does upon first glance that it makes you feel shy. You suck in a sharp breath before deciding to exit your vehicle, wiping clammy palms on your denim shorts. You’re starting to regret not dressing a little cuter, a little more presentable.

His features soften upon recognizing you, the pretty granddaughter that your grandparents showed him prior to leaving for their trip. The hand sheltering his face falls to his side and he gives you a warm smile, somehow warmer and brighter than the sweltering summer sun. You’d always been told not to talk to strangers, to keep your distance for your own safety, but you can’t help mirroring his expression with a small wave.

“H-Hi,” your voice wobbles and you kind of want to die just a bit. “I’m Y/N. My grandparents mentioned you lived in the farmhouse out back, but didn’t give me a name or face to expect.”

He extends his arm out and you shake his hand, albeit slightly nervously. His eyes squint when he glances between you and his dog. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N. I’m Yunho, and this is Yeoreum.”

The name is fitting for the red and white colored Border Collie, her tongue sticking out as she stares up at you with big eyes that almost resemble her owner’s. You bend down to pet her, patting the soft tufts of fur on her head and appreciating her licks of excitement. Yunho laughs, whistling to catch her attention.

“Yunho and Yeoreum,” you repeat, a tiny grin on your face. “Befitting. Does she come with the property?”

“Unfortunately, no. She’s spoken for,” he teases, a pout on his features. “But she can visit whenever you’d like. Jokes aside, did you need any help moving stuff into the house?”

”That would be great, actually!” You scratch the back of your neck, lips pursing. Yunho waits for you to unlock the trunk of your car and places Yeoreum’s leash in your possession, making quick work transporting your bags inside. What was just supposed to be some light assistance, has evidently become him doing everything on his own while you stand and look pretty with his dog.

You didn’t bring too much with you since you didn’t have plans to leave while you were housesitting and your grandparents weren’t so old fashioned that they didn’t have a washing machine. Still, you felt useless allowing this stranger you’d just met to do all this manual labor on your behalf.

”Does he always do this?” You murmur to the Border Collie, falling to a seat on the lowest front porch step. She doesn’t give you a response (not that you expected her to), but pants happily in lieu of one, craning her head so you can scratch the spot behind her ear.

“You’re a guest, it’s just good hospitality for me to help.” Yunho says as he comes out of the house, stationing himself in front of you with his hands on his hips, thumbs in his belt loops.

“There’s a difference between helping and doing the work yourself. You’re just being modest,” you push yourself up to hand him Yeoreum’s leash. “But thank you anyway, that was really nice. I’m so tired from driving up here, so I think I would’ve collapsed doing all that back and forth.”

”You should go rest,” he glances at the house behind you. “There’s a whole three months of farm life ahead of you, so don’t wear your pretty little self out just yet.”

Yunho salutes to you and takes his leave, walking around your grandparents’ house toward what you assume is the farmhouse. Your eyes are wide and your cheeks feel hot, and you’re well aware that it’s not because of the summer heat. Your fingers clutch at the material of your t-shirt and you shake it to fan yourself.

It seemed like you were in for a bumpy ride these next few months. But like you reiterated prior to arriving, everything would be just fine so long as you and farm boy went your separate routes and lived your separate lives.

Yeah. Things would be alright. You hope.

It’s a week into your stay on your grandparents’ farm when you bump into Yunho again.

You’re toweling your neck after getting out of the shower, heading into the kitchen to make yourself another bowl of cereal for breakfast. So far the only downside has been your inability to cook a decent meal. Takeout or your boyfriend sleeping over were usually your saving grace, but without having either of those options, you’ve stuck to microwaveable things.

The sight of Yunho unloading groceries onto the counter has you squealing and nearly jumping out of your own skin. He flinches at your volume, knocking over the bag of rice resting against the vase in the center. Thankfully it was still sealed shut, if not there would’ve been a mess of rice grains all over the island counter. His clumsiness has you slapping a palm over your mouth to silence your giggles, not wanting to embarrass him.

”Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you…” You apologize sheepishly, folding your towel over your arm and placing it on a barstool nearby.

“N-No, you’re fine! I shouldn’t have just let myself in, it’s kinda just a habit. You deserve your privacy without having to worry about whether or not I’m gonna barge in unannounced.” He dismisses your apology with a wave of his hand. “I’ll just put these up for you and then I’ll be on my way.”

”Can I help?” You waddle over to him, fingers laced behind your back. “I’d feel bad watching you put my groceries away for me after going out and getting them.”

Yunho gestures for you to occupy the space beside him with a small smile that takes solace at the corner of his mouth. The two of you do everything in complete silence, still not entirely used to each other’s presence because of the lack of crossing paths. As you’re finishing up, you start grabbing the items you need for your cereal. He raises an eyebrow at you.

”You don’t want something a little more filling?” He suddenly questions, jutting his chin at your bowl.

”I would love that if I knew how to cook,” you laugh. “Ironic isn’t it? The granddaughter of two farmers can’t cook to save their life.”

Yunho shakes his head with a chuckle, ruffling his hair. “Well, I don’t have to feed the horses for another hour if you’d like for me to whip up something better than a bowl of cereal.”

“Really?” Your eyebrows furrow. Despite growing up with the mindset that you were above the farm life your grandparents tried to impose on you, you hated feeling like you were coming across as entitled. You didn’t want Yunho to think you were lazy or that you were too good. “You don’t have to do that. I can survive on instant ramen and cereal, I swear.”

”Y/N,” he says your name with a certain authority to it, and you’ve never loved the sound of your name coming out of someone else’s mouth so much before. “I want to. I’m not the world’s greatest chef or anything, but I have a couple tricks up my sleeve.”

”Okay, then,” you nod, taking a seat at the island. You watch in awe as he dances around the kitchen and prepares something for you. It’s weird, not in the sense that you feel awkward around this complete stranger, but because you feel the opposite. You feel comfortable around him, like you’ve known him for a while. It’s almost like Yunho has been a casual part of your life for much longer than a week. He’s easy to get along with, easy to mold into what you’re used to.

And that’s weird because you have a boyfriend. A boyfriend who cooks dinner for you most nights, but somehow has never made you feel this taken care of. It throws you off. That should definitely not be the case. How is this man doing this in one week and your boyfriend couldn’t in two years?

The guilt settles in the pit of your stomach quickly. Sure, your boyfriend might’ve had a habit of forgetting important dates and didn’t give you half as much attention as he should’ve, but did that warrant the emotions brewing in your chest? Could that excuse this notion that maybe it was time to finally call it quits?

You zone out as Yunho finishes cooking your breakfast, too inside of your head to even fawn over the doting and slight coddling he was doing. Maybe you need to have a long conversation with Seojun about your relationship and where you want it to go. Perhaps it was a nice idea to invite him out to visit the farm, it could do you both some good.

“Ta-da!” Yunho holds out a plate to you, the sparkle in his eyes effectively pushing out any thoughts of your boyfriend and the shame that was picking at you. You can’t help but reciprocate his expression when you see how delicious the food looks.

He’d made you omurice, the ketchup on top in cute squiggly lines to form whiskers and a little dog face. You accept the plate gratifyingly, your fingers brushing as you do so. He smiles shyly, eyeing you carefully while you take the first bite. You don’t remember the last time you had a home cooked breakfast, accustomed to the occasional muffin at the coffee shop near your house.

”’Not the world’s greatest chef’ my ass,” you grumble, pouting at his humbleness and his inability to be bad at anything. “I might just ask you to have breakfast with me every morning if you can chef it up this well.”

That melodic laugh of his rings in your ears, his elbows resting on the island and his chin in his palms. “I’m sure Yeoreum would appreciate a companion who isn’t me.”

“How long have you had her?” You ask, shoveling more omurice into your mouth. If you weren’t so hungry and so appeased by how delicious it was, you’d feel bad for ruining his hard work. The ketchup no longer looked like a dog, but rather a splatter of red all over your plate.

“Almost four years now. I had her for a year before I met your grandparents. She adores them, so it’s no surprise that she likes you too.” He has this fond gaze in his eyes as he talks about his beloved Border Collie and it makes your heart ache.

The fact that he has such a good relationship with your grandparents seals the deal for you. Well, it would seal the deal if you were single. Yunho is like the ideal man that every parent would want their daughter to bring home. He knows how to cook, knows how to clean. He’s adept around the house, skilled in yard work and other random jobs like fixing leaky pipes and installing new appliances. He’s gentle, but doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty.

Your parents would never meet him, though. After the summer was over, you’d be back in Seoul and he would still be here, a distant memory. You forcibly laugh away the thought, excusing it as your response to his words and continuing the conversation about his dog.

Perhaps this stay would be harder to get through than you thought.

As the weeks pass you by, you find yourself becoming more and more infatuated with Jeong Yunho.

Cooking breakfast for you in the morning has become a regular thing. Monitoring him at the stove with sleepy eyes and a mug of fresh coffee in your hands has ingrained itself into your routine. Yeoreum called the spot beneath your stool her own now, laying there as her owner made your food. You think the transition from seeing him as just this comforting presence, this kind individual, to wanting something more was almost too smooth.

Especially right now as you sit on the back porch sipping on some lemonade, admiring the cowboy as he transfers bales of hay from the bed of his pickup truck to the pigpen and the cattle pen. He pauses in between trips, stripping off his flannel and tying it around his waist. He lifts the hem of the white tank top he’s wearing and uses it to wipe sweat from his forehead, revealing the toned abdomen he had been hiding from you up until now.

You feel like you’re going insane, trying to pretend like you’re reading your book as you not so subtly gawk at his muscles straining with each bale he lifts. It’s crazy really, the effect he has on you doing his fucking job. You’ve made it a habit to sit out here and stare at him under the guise of various other things. Aside from being borderline obsessive, it’s horrible because you’re still very much in a relationship.

Most people would feel a hell of a lot worse than you do, like their entire world was crumbling between their fingertips just for finding someone else attractive. But for some reason, as time has continued to roll on, that guilt— that self-preservation— has faded. You’re dipping into another emotion that you’re too scared to explore.

Yunho takes a break from his labor to guzzle down a bottle of water, his chest heaving up and down from exertion. Had you been paying attention to anything other than the view of the handsome man, you would’ve noticed the glass sliding out of your grasp, the condensation becoming far too dense to keep a solid grip on the cup. In the midst of drooling over him, your lemonade falls to the ground with a loud clanging noise.

Your reflexes are only swift enough to save your book, but the drink spills everywhere else and you wince at how embarrassing the situation is. You hurry inside to grab a towel before he can see the mortification enveloping your features. He seemed like the observant type, like one scan of your face could tell him everything he needs to know without a single word exchanged. Your fingers curl around the edge of the counter, blowing a raspberry while you attempt to regulate your blood pressure.

Through the window above the kitchen sink, you make out a confused Yunho, brows furrowed as he looks in the direction of the house. He worried over you entirely too much, particularly when you take into account the fact that all you did was think about him in manners not necessarily safe for work. Maybe you were just delirious. That was the only logical explanation for why you’re spiraling.

The high temperatures of the summer coupled with your surroundings are contributing to your change in behavior. Yes. That made sense. You weren’t crazy.

With a bit more reprieve, you’re able to grab a tea towel and head back outside to clean up your mess. (Not unaccompanied by a couple glances in Yunho’s direction, but that’s fine. Perfectly healthy even. It’s normal to check up on a friend. At least, that’s what you tell yourself, but who’s holding you accountable?)

“You know you’ve been making me breakfast every morning without asking for anything in return,” you speak up one morning, chin resting on the island. “Is there anything I can do to repay you?”

Yunho purses his lips as he hands you your plate. “Nah, I like cooking for you.”

You try to ignore the way that has your heart fluttering in your chest, try to ignore the warmth blooming beneath your skin. Your eyes glance down at your food to avoid eye contact, bringing your chopsticks up to your lips. “Okay, well I wanna do something for you.”

Despite mumbling the words, he hears you anyway and smiles to himself as he takes a sip from his mug. He rolls up the sleeves of his denim button up, reaching down to scratch behind Yeoreum’s ear, the area that you’ve learned is her favorite. She pants joyfully, jumping on his leg excitedly. He looks between the two of you.

”Missy here needs a bath,” he says, cooing at her. “I was gonna give her one later, after I cleaned out the stables, but if you don’t mind doing it.”

”I’d do just about anything for that precious girl,” you nod enthusiastically. “Consider it done.”

This is how you end up out back, dog shampoo in one hand and the water hose in the other.

Yeoreum’s signature bandana and collar lay on one of the rocking chairs on the porch, the dog looking so different without her accessories as you prepare to bathe her. You wet her fur generously, squeezing enough shampoo into your palm to lather it on. Compared to your childhood pets, she’s pretty well behaved.

She’s probably one of the only dogs who’s ever actually enjoyed taking a bath, sitting still for you while you scrub and rinse and repeat. You take your time with cleaning her, wanting to make sure you do your best as a thank you for every plate Yunho has ever made you. Usually, this isn’t something you would jump at the opportunity to do. Somehow, being back at the farm this past month or so has done everything your parents tried to do when you were younger.

It could’ve had to do with the desensitization of being here every summer for so long that it just never stuck when you were grade school age. But now, fully grown and experiencing this all over again on your own, with new faces at your side, it’s like you’re being exposed to something different. You can see why your mom and dad didn’t want the city life to become a dependency.

You preferred the view of cabs and cafés over cows and chickens in the past, but now you found a sense of familiarity in them. You’d always want to go home as soon as you got here. Unlike other kids, you wanted your summer to be over as quickly as possible. You couldn’t imagine going home after this, though. This unveiled attachment to the farm you detested when you were younger could only be accredited to one person, and it was a little frightening.

He constantly brought out parts of you that you didn’t know existed. This enigma, the one that emphasized how big of a role he’s fulfilling in the short period of time you’ve been here, drills itself into your brain every day. You knew you had to acknowledge it sooner or later, but it was just less of a hassle to act like it wasn’t screaming at you. Your fear of change was a more pertinent issue to ignore, so you let it consume all else.

While getting lost in your thoughts, Yeoreum starts shaking and startles you, causing your hold on the hose to loosen, water spraying everywhere. The diversion has you losing your footing and slipping in the mud. You shriek, though it does nothing to block the stream that drenches you, your clothes getting wet. The universe decides it’s not on your side, because you happened to wear a white shirt. Why you chose to do that when you knew you were bathing a dog, you have no clue, but it was a little too late for regrets.

Yeoreum jumps out of the basin you had her in and runs to the farmhouse just as Yunho’s walking out, fresh from the shower. You forgot that he was cleaning the stables at the same time you were giving the Border Collie her bath, but now you’re starting to wish you waited until afterward just in case you needed the assistance. And well, you definitely needed the assistance.

Plucking the tail end of the mishap, Yunho’s initial reaction is to laugh at your misfortune, but the closer he gets to the scene, the laughter dies out in his throat. Your top is sheer enough that he can map out the outline of your black bra. It leaves very little to the imagination and he thinks he might fall to his knees right here.

Since your grandparents told him that you’d be house sitting while they were away and proudly showcased a photo of you, he’s been enthralled by you. You had the face of an angel, or maybe a really enticing demon, he hasn’t cogitated it much yet.

He swallows thickly, hoping to keep his composure as he makes his way to you. His hand is a little shaky when it reaches to take the hose from you, squeezing his eyes closed and switching off the water. He stays there for a few seconds to mentally prep himself for an up-close-and-personal look at you, even going as far as holding his breath.

“Uh— you— um— you should go inside and dry off before you catch a cold,” Yunho keeps his eyes cast downward. He’s grateful that you don’t note how red the tips of his ears are, or how he thinks the sky is suddenly much more interesting than your face.

Your head cocks to the side in confusion. “What do you mean ‘before I catch a cold’? It’s, like, a million degrees out.”

“The temperature drops at night and the sun’s setting soon. I’ll handle it from here. Yeoreum ran off, so I gotta chase after her anyway and I don’t think you want her to soak you more than she already has.” He’s insistent on shooing you away and getting you inside of the house. You huff.

”Okay… If you say so…”

Reluctantly, you spin around and traverse back. The draft of the air conditioning has you shivering, rubbing up and down your arms as you enter the bathroom to inspect the damage. Your eyes almost bulge out of their sockets when you finally see yourself. No wonder Yunho was so adamant on staving you off like you were the plague.

In your defense, you didn’t think the hose won the battle by that much. You assumed you’d just gotten everything above your shoulders wet, but no. You were practically doused head to toe. And the clear display of your brassiere under your clothes was the last thing on your mind.

He was stronger than you. Actually, he was a more respectful person than you. You would’ve gawked at him shamelessly if the roles were reversed. But at least you’re self aware! Right? The first step in recognizing that you have a problem, is admitting that you have a problem. That’s what you think they say in those addiction commercials, but you could be wrong.

Wow. Now you were comparing him to drugs. Though, you suppose there isn’t that huge of a difference. Both had equal success rates in terms of getting people high and then making it hard to wane off their effects.

You really had to quit it with the metaphor usage.

It’s around midnight that night when the lightbulb in the bathroom goes out, halting you from finishing your bedtime routine.

You’re exhausted to say the least, face damp from washing it and one of those fuzzy hairbands with the animal ears perched on your head. You were ready to crash out, but there were still a couple things you needed to do before that. It was proving to be a little difficult in the pitch black bathroom. The window above the shower was too narrow to provide any sufficient moonlight.

With a low grumble, you shuffle into your slippers and make the short trek from your grandparents’ house to Yunho in the farmhouse. You hug yourself when a strong breeze blows past, your flimsy t-shirt and sleep shorts doing hardly anything to block the cool summer night’s air.

A piece of you feels a little bad for bothering him so late, but you have no idea how to change a lightbulb. You don’t even know where the lightbulbs are. Besides, you think you’d electrocute yourself if you made an attempt to do it on your own.

You huff out a sigh and bring your knuckles up to knock at his door, waiting patiently for a response. He’s not asleep, you know this because he’s mentioned that his internal clock doesn’t turn off until two in the morning. Circadian rhythms were an odd concept, so to each their own.

“Yunho! It’s Y/N! Open up!”

When a few minutes have passed, you try the knob. Maybe it was a bit… too presumptuous of you to enter his home without explicit permission. Yes, you’d known each other for the better part of a month and a half, and yes, you’d gotten very close in that timeframe, but did that constitute your actions?

Whether or not the answer to that question was a yes or a no, you really wish you would’ve just waited outside. As you venture further in search of the cowboy, you stumble upon something you shouldn’t have.

Standing in the hallway on the other side of his bedroom, the door ajar at least an inch, you catch a glimpse of him on his bed. That white tank top you’re so used to seeing him in is between his teeth, eyebrows knit together in pure pleasure as he fists his cock with a purpose. His nostrils are flared and whiny moans escape from behind the fabric.

His head falls back every now and then, eyes fluttering shut when he runs his thumb over the slit. He’s so focused that he doesn’t notice you, too entranced with chasing his high. Your lips part as you watch him fuck up into his hand, his shirt slipping from his mouth when he groans out a curse.

Just as quickly as you become distracted by the sight of Yunho jerking off, you become aware of what you’re doing. You flee the scene before you get yourself caught, exiting the farmhouse as quietly as you can. The lightbulb can wait until morning, it wasn’t that important, honestly. You’re in a daze the entire walk back to your grandparents house, goosebumps littering your arms and the image of him in such an obscene state burned into your brain.

You fall backwards onto your bed, staring at the ceiling in hopes of willing away the path your mind is beginning to wander towards. All you can think about is the sight of him so desperate for release, large hand wrapped around his dick, abdomen contracting with need. You know you weren’t supposed to see, weren’t supposed to bear witness to something so personal.

It’s difficult to push out the nasty, inappropriate thoughts clouding your head. His expressions contorted into absolute bliss. His slender fingers could probably do so much more than your own, could probably reach places you’d never even dreamed of. And fuck, his dick, prettier and bigger than any other you’ve ever seen.

Your chest blushes with heat, an embarrassment washing over you when you realize you’re turned on. You should feel terrible for intruding on Yunho’s privacy like that, especially without him knowing, but all you can do is want him more than you already do. That craving for something deeper, carnal, fans the flame engulfing you, dragging you further into the sick and twisted hell you’ve created for yourself.

Yunho has been nothing but welcoming, kind and gentle with you, someone he didn’t even know the name of until last month. Someone who’s done everything in their power to repress this lifestyle for so long. And for some reason, it just comes so easily with him. You don’t feel forced to enjoy living on the farm. He makes you laugh and puts a smile on your face effortlessly. He has you wondering if life can actually be this simple.

But when all is said and done, there will be somebody else waiting for you back home. Somebody who doesn’t know how to whip up omurice with freshly laid eggs. Somebody who isn’t even a dog person, who thinks pets are nuisances. Somebody who doesn’t live in the farmhouse behind your grandparents’. It’s a bitter pill to swallow.

If you touch yourself with tears streaming down your cheeks to the thought of the man who has eyes that resemble the night sky, well that’s between you and whatever higher being exists out there.

You sit across from Yunho with bated breath, afraid that if you opened your mouth he would know your dirty secret. You avoid his eyes for the same reason, like one good look at you would reveal what you were trying to hide.

Yunho himself was doing his best to pretend like he hadn’t masturbated to the thought of you last night. He liked to think he was good at keeping his feelings under wraps. It wasn’t like he didn’t know you were in a relationship, he’s heard you on the phone before. He stays silent as he fries rice in a pan and has some bread in the toaster. The only sounds in the kitchen are sizzling and the pants coming from Yeoreum under your stool.

In the time that you’ve been here, never once has it been awkward between you like this. The conversation usually doesn’t stop flowing, rolling on and on and filtering into things that don’t pertain to the original subject. He rarely has his back to you for too long, turning over his shoulder to shoot you a grin every here and now.

Both of you go to speak at the same time as a means of salvaging the morning from eternal strain. You stare at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. Truly, you were two birds of a feather, or however that saying goes.

”Sorry, I don’t know why I’m being so quiet today,” Yunho says, though he knows it’s a lie. “I guess I had a long night.”

”Oh, that reminds me,” his mention of the previous night has you recalling the reason you went out to the farmhouse in the first place. “The light in my bathroom went out, do you think you can fix it for me?”

“Yeah, for sure,” he begins preparing your plate. “Actually, I have this joke about lightbulbs. You wanna hear it?”

Your lips curl into a smile, already attempting to hold back your laughter. With a raised eyebrow, you respond, “What is it?”

”What did the lightbulb say to the light switch?” He asks nonchalantly, taking a bite from his own piece of toast. You’re failing miserably at acting like you don’t think the joke is funny, although he hasn’t even told you the punchline yet.

”I dunno, Yunho, what did the lightbulb say to the light switch?”

“‘You turn me on.’”

There’s a pregnant pause as the joke resonates and you can’t stop yourself from cackling at how stupid it is. He joins in, but mostly because your laughter is contagious. His chest swells with pride at his successful landing, feeling like he’s on top of the world just for bringing a smile to your face. God, he was down tremendously bad.

Your spoon clatters onto the counter as you lean over, a hand clapped over your mouth as your boisterous laughing simmers into a giggle. Yunho leans into you slightly, matching your energy as he munches on his toast. This is what has you conflicted, so at war with yourself. The proximity should have you pulling away, but something about him always reels you in, despite the consequences that await.

And unfortunately, those consequences come to a head today.

“Are you fucking serious, Y/N?”

You and Yunho jump back, whipping towards the source of the voice. Seojun stands there, his bags at his feet and his face crestfallen, disbelief written all over it. He shakes his head and turns to leave, you stumbling off of the barstool to follow behind him. The guilt you’ve only ever felt momentarily settles deep in your chest and deep in your stomach, though you technically haven’t done anything wrong.

Your abruptness startles Yeoreum and she’s up in a heartbeat, tailing behind you curiously. Yunho has to rush to stop her, but a part of himself wants to do the same. No matter how much he likes you, he’s never wanted to be the cause of your relationship falling apart. He wanted you organically, not like this.

”Seojun! Wait!” You call after him, holding up a hand to block out the harsh sunlight, tripping over your slippers. He scoffs.

“What am I waiting for? You to spew some bullshit about how nothing’s going on between the two of you? I’m not fucking stupid, Y/N. I’m not blind.” He pops open his trunk and throws his bags in haphazardly.

”You’re being unreasonable,” you exclaim, rounding the car so you’re directly in front of him. “There is nothing going on. We’ve just gotten to know each other since we live in the same vicinity. Did you want me to stay here for three months and hole myself away with no other human contact?”

“He was just supposed to be the guy who lived in the farmhouse. He wasn’t supposed to bother you. That’s what you told me, remember?” Seojun is losing his patience, something that has always been the root of the problem when you’ve gotten into past arguments. “How do you expect me to react when I come to surprise you and see you being so close to another man?”

“I was laughing at a joke he told me. You’re making this a bigger deal than it is and blowing everything completely out of proportion. I’m sorry that it never came up that we became friends, but I didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve never once cheated on you in the three years we’ve been together and for you to accuse me of that is so fucking low of you.” You’re not going to cry, not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s won. He thrives off of seeing your vulnerability and you won’t let him have it.

“I saw the way he was looking at you,” he seethes, balling his hands into fists at his sides. “I know that look because that’s how I used to look at you.”

A laugh devoid of any humor leaves you and he blinks. “That’s how you ‘used to’ look at me? When did you stop? And why am I just finding this out?”

”That’s not— that isn’t what I meant, Y/N—“

”No, Seojun. You did,” you glance away from him, nipping at the inside of your cheek. “We’re grasping for straws. We aren’t going anywhere anymore and we haven’t for a while now. That’s why we're standing here arguing over this. I just want to know why you didn’t just tell me.”

”I’m too complacent,” he sighs, breathing through his nose. “I was too comfortable with you and I didn’t know how to let you go or walk away. But you’re right, there isn’t anything for us to save, and it seems like we’re both ready to move on.��

“What does that mean?”

“I saw how you were looking at him, too. You might not have acted on it, but you have feelings for him. I’m not gonna stay and hold you back.” Seojun unlocks his car, opening the door. “And for what it’s worth, you won’t be wasting your time.”

You don’t respond, instead humming and letting him drive off. Once his car is far enough out of your view, you go back into the house. There’s an indescribable emotion that hostages you, binding your wrists and tying you down metaphorically. You can’t seem to shake it.

Yunho is still in the kitchen, sitting on the floor with Yeoreum to keep her calm. He gazes up at you expectantly and you feel the tears you were suppressing from Seojun bubbling up. If you weren’t going to cry in front of your (now ex) boyfriend, you definitely weren’t going to cry in front of him.

With a trembling exhale, you force yourself to say, “I need to be alone.”

He understands empathetically, clipping on Yeoreum’s leash and leaving the house in the same breath. That in itself has you crying like a baby the moment you’re all by yourself. You hold your face in your hands, body shuddering with each sob you release.

I saw the way he was looking at you.

I saw how you were looking at him, too.

You had a lot to think about, and everything always seemed to circle back to Jeong Yunho.

A couple days escape you before you register you haven’t seen much of Yunho. After your breakup with Seojun, you really did need a bit of room to process it all, but you hadn’t realized just how much you depended on the cowboy’s presence until you were missing it.

You hadn’t meant to push him away, if that’s how he saw it. A night of bawling your eyes out with a pint of ice cream and The Vow was enough to cure you. However, it appears that he thought you needed more, going as far as putting a pin in your daily breakfast ritual. You aren’t sure how to extend an olive branch when you weren’t even trying to cause a rift between you in the first place.

Being with someone for three years may not seem like a lot, but that fraction of your life is stuck with you, like a thumbtack that refuses to come out of the wall. You’d had boyfriends before Seojun, but they weren’t nearly as serious. There weren't formal introductions between parents, no late night conversations that bleed into early mornings, no sleepovers and quick kisses before work.

Of course, after a certain point, those had just become habitual. You weren’t doing them because they evoked a sense of love or care anymore, but rather because you were familiar with them. It was safer to continue the pattern of waking up and falling asleep to Seojun on the other side of the bed, the intrusion of sunlight and the cacophony of traffic outside your window, even if you didn’t really want to.

And then you came here.

Somehow, returning to your grandparents’ farm was exactly what you needed to break through that cycle. As much as you would love to attest it to your location and discovering the appreciation your family wanted you to feel for it, you know the real reason. It’s all thanks to a certain cowboy.

Yunho’s feelings for you run far deeper than he could’ve imagined. He doesn’t know the extent of what happened with you and Seojun, but he thinks putting distance between you is better in the long run anyway. On the off chance you’re still together, he wants to preserve his heart. He’s handed it to someone else too easily in the past and he doesn’t want to make that mistake with you if you don’t feel the same.

But even on the off chance that you’ve broken up, he still wants to stop himself from falling further and harder than he already has. Without ill will, he doubts that you would give up the life you have in the city for this, for him. He’ll be perpetually chained to being a faint imprint on your memory of the summer. You’ll think back to the months you spent here and he’ll have played only a minor role.

It was wishful thinking, too hopeful of him to presume this would lead to a happy ending. You were from different worlds, led different lives. It was time for him to be realistic. And that meant implementing the space that was supposed to exist between you from the get go.

Though, you make it difficult when he bumps into you on the way back from the mailbox. Déjà vu, anyone?

Yeoreum is excited to see you, jumping onto her haunches to lick your face when you kneel to her level. You giggle, squeezing one eye shut as you balance yourself and hold her still so her weight doesn’t clamber you both onto the ground. Your fingers pet to top of her head softly as you coo, “Who’s a good girl?”

Yunho physically winces when his chest tightens at the sight of his two favorite girls. The word ‘distance’ bounces around his head like a pinball, reminding him what he’s supposed to be doing. He just can’t bring himself to walk away. Especially when you look at him with those pretty eyes of yours.

“Hey…” You start, steeling your tone to ensure it’s even. “I’m sorry if it seemed like I was avoiding you or something. I needed some time to myself to figure things out. It wasn’t my intention to shut you out and put you on the back burner.”

”No, it’s okay. I had to figure stuff out on my own, too,” he uses his bandana to dab at the sweat perspiring on his forehead. “Did you sort through whatever you needed to?”

“I did,” you nod, standing upright. “Seojun and I broke up, so I had to sit with my feelings for a bit. We’ve been together for so long, I think I needed to remember what it was like to be without him, and then I realized that’s basically what I’ve been doing since I came here.”

”Oh.” Yunho’s lips form an ‘O’ shape, hands dragging down the sides of his pants. “I’m sorry— um— about your breakup.”

”Don’t be,” you smile, dismissing his sympathy. “It was a long time coming, honestly. We weren’t really in the relationship wholeheartedly anymore. There wasn’t a point in stringing it along, you know? But that’s enough about me, did you figure your own things out?”

”I thought I did,” he says, which is true considering he’d been mulling over what to do with his emotions subsequent to your argument with your ex. “And then I kinda steered off course. It’s alright, though, I think I like the new conclusion I’ve come to a lot better.”

You might be on the same page now, but there was an entire discussion that had to happen to solidify that. Following a very emotionally charged past couple days, you could do without that today. You’re both just glad that the air is cleared and you can resume building the bond that began forming the moment you stepped foot onto the farm, no restrictions whatsoever.

“Have you ever ridden a horse?”

You glance up from your book, this time genuinely reading it as Yunho fed the chickens and cleaned up their coop. He towers over you while he asks the question, his shadow thwarting off any direct sunlight. Your nose scrunches.

“When I was in, like, middle school? It’s been a minute,” you answer, making sure to bookmark the page you stopped at. “Why?

”Would you let me teach you how to do it again?” He nips at his lower lip, like he’s nervous you’ll say no. The truth of the matter is you’d say yes even if he asked you to commit arson, which is kind of a problem.

“That sounds fun,” you shrug. “What time should I be ready?”

”Uh, now?”

Okay, so sitting on a horse did not seem this scary when you were twelve.

It probably had to do with you being fearless and whatnot, but also because you did whatever your grandparents asked just to appease them. The faster you got off the damn horse, the faster you could go back inside and situate yourself in front of the TV. They thought they were making progress with you, but really you were outsmarting the outsmarters.

Sweat glazes on the underside of your hands, disrupting the security of your grasp on the reins. Yunho thought it would be wiser if he stayed on foot, guiding you and the horse around the perimeter of the pen. You hoped you didn’t look as afraid as you were, but you’re certain the slight quiver of your bottom lip gives it away.

“You’re doing fine, Y/N,” he reassures, maintaining a comforting amount of eye contact with you.

”Am I? Or does it just seem that way because you’re pulling the horse?” You quip, gripping the reins tighter when it steps over a rock and you sway a little. Your tone is laced with sarcasm, something Yunho hasn’t heard much of from you since you’ve met, but he thinks it’s cute that you resort to violence when you’re scared.

You notice the quirk of his mouth and how he’s trying not to laugh at your terror. It pisses you off solely because his humor isn’t unwarranted. You are being a bit over dramatic. He unties his bandana from around his neck and tosses it to you. “So you don’t callus your hands.”

He’s too thoughtful, too considerate for his own good, but that’s what roped you in. Even when you met for the first time, he had you figured out. The longer you stare at him, the more you realize just how perfect he is. If you were still in school and you were tasked with writing an essay about the summer you spent here, you’re sure the words would flow onto the pages flawlessly, without skipping a beat. Your prose would be so beautifully written, that even the most notable authors would be envious of your experience.

The only downside of this was the fact that time was beginning to seep through your fingers. There was mutuality in your feelings for each other, that was almost unequivocal. You were both just hesitant in taking that first leap. The uncertainty lied with that goodbye at the end of August, the one that’ll hurt a lot more than it was supposed to. But you know that postponing your unceremonious declaration of feelings would just do more harm than anything else.

One consistency you’ve singled out since coming back to the farm is this common theme of divine intervention, or fate, whatever you want to call it. Right when you’re on the brink of an epiphany, you’re always forcefully shoved into it, like a freight train crashing into its platform traveling at full speed. This moment is no different.

Yeoreum barking at a squirrel on the other side of the pen scares the horse who’s back you were currently on. It bucks up and you release the reins in alarm. You fall quickly, but Yunho’s quicker, catching you in his arms like it’s been a childhood dream of his to be a superhero. He searches your face for any indication that you might be hurt, a hand coming up to cup your cheek.

The eyes you’ve grown to adore examine your own with so much care that you find yourself melting in his hold. Your face instinctively leans into his palm, fingers still clutching the fabric of his shirt like he may drop you.

It’s nearly second-nature to minimize the gap between you.

You never understood what novelists meant when they described kissing scenes. And you think that’s because you’d never truly had a kiss like this before. It was as if they were all talking about this second, this blip in time. The sparks that shoot from where your lips meet to the tips of your fingers, the thump-thump-thump of your heartbeat in your ears, the sensation of never wanting to escape, never wanting to stop.

Yunho’s hand snakes behind your head, tangling in your hair to deepen the connection. It’s hungry. It’s desperate. It’s too much. It’s not enough. Everything that had been stacking on top of each other was leading to this, the collision that rivaled the Big Bang. You whine into his lips, an invitation but also an inquiry.

He parts from you just so he can catch his breath, his forehead resting on yours. “Can I take you inside?”

You nod fervently. “Yes. Please.”

He wastes no time hauling you to the farmhouse. His grip on your wrist is gentle as he pulls you into his bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed and trapping you between his legs. Your restraint wears thin, nimble fingers fumbling with the rest of the buttons on his denim shirt. You push it off of his shoulders, a bit shell shocked when you discover that he’s wearing a regular t-shirt as opposed to his usual tank top.

“You would pull something like this today of all days,” you laugh breathily, untucking the shirt from his pants. He reciprocates the sentiment, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck while you undress him.

“Is it evil of me to say I was sorta hoping this would happen?” He speaks into your exposed collarbone, nipping, sucking, biting the skin. Your appreciative sigh goads him, his tongue gliding across the abused surface as a form of relief.

“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head, fast to yank off his shirt and run your nails down his abdomen. “I’ve been waiting for this for too long.”

“Yeah?” Yunho flips the two of you easily so you’re the one on the bed now. He pushes up the hem of your shirt, pecking your stomach to your clavicle as he shows more and more of your skin until the fabric is removed from your body. “Can’t believe I finally get to have you.”

You involuntarily moan, completely untouched and because of his words alone. Every part of you feels like it’s lit ablaze, burning with want and need and everything in between. This ran further than just what-ifs and late night fantasies. Your relationship with Yunho tiptoed on the edge of something you’ve never known before, and that makes this so much more special.

He glances up at you when his fingers reach for the button of your shorts, a silent ask for permission. You give him the green light and hold yourself up on your elbows, watching with your breathing trapped in your throat as he rids of your panties along with them. His hands push your knees to your chest, kissing your inner thighs and right around the place you need him most, but never there.

“Yunho…” You warn, but it comes across as a broken whimper rather than an establishment of authority. He laughs and then his lips are pressing to your clit, a sweet kiss that has all rationality taking a vacation from your brain. Your head tips back and you fist at the sheets.

He drags his tongue through your folds, swirling it around the sensitive bundle of nerves each time it makes its return. It’s almost criminal how good it feels to have his mouth on your cunt, eyes already heavy lidded with pleasure. He sucks on your clit at the same time he decides to insert a finger into your entrance, curling it experimentally just because he can. Like you predicted, it reaches that spongy spot at the crook of your pussy, brushing it once he’s sure he’s found it.

While you walked in on him fucking his fist, the only thing on his mind was you. He was so absorbed in the mental image of what you would look like beneath him, wiggling, writhing, squirming with indulgence. His social awareness was at a zero. This replayed over and over until he came, his thoughts so vivid he could’ve swore it was real.

But this, the actual thing, was so much better; his forearm pinning your hips down, his middle finger curling and uncurling inside of you, his mouth working overtime to inch you towards the edge of that steep cliff. He moans when your eyebrows practically coalesce, bottom lip trapped between your teeth. You look so gorgeous like this, so disoriented all because of the bliss he was providing. The vibrations of the sound have you arching your back, uncontrollable whines running from your mouth.

“Feel good?” Yunho asks, disconnecting his mouth and replacing it with his other hand, ring and middle digits swiping across your clit with practiced pressure.

“Mhm,” you nod frantically, eyes on the brink of rolling to the back of your head. “Feels so good, Yun… Just like that, ‘m almost there.”

That’s all he needs to hear, switching his hand and mouth once again, focusing on alternating harsh and gentle sucks of your clit, adding a second finger to pump in and out of your hole. The doubled change in stimulation knocks the wind out of you, the precipice of your orgasm so close you can taste it. You’d never been brought to the summit this early in the past, and you think Yunho deserves some sort of reward for being the first to do so.

You’d worry about that later though, because you’re blindsided by it before you can even conjure your next thought. You cum with a cry, tears springing to your eyes from the immense amount of ecstasy coursing through your veins, swimming in your bloodstream. Yunho coos at you, not stopping until you’ve relaxed in his hold. “That’s it, baby, you’re doing so well.”

The praise makes your head feel airy, like empty space unoccupied by anything. If you paid attention in chemistry, then you’d know that’s highly impossible, but you didn’t. The only chemistry you even remotely care about is the one between you and Yunho, the tension that has piled higher and higher for days on end until its crescendo now.

You sit up to kiss him roughly, savoring the taste of yourself on his lips. He smiles into it, a hand raising to caress the underside of your jaw. He climbs onto the bed, scooting you up so you’re positioned by the pillows. It doesn’t take much effort for your bodies to swap, his back to the headboard. You clumsily seat yourself on his lap, a knee on either side of him and sighing wistfully when his mouth trails down your throat and sternum, slender fingers sneaking behind you to unclasp your bra.

He aids you in removing his pants, still simultaneously prioritizing kisses all over your bare chest. When you’re both fully naked, you take your time admiring his cock. It’s just as pretty as you remember, long and thick. Your hand wraps around it gingerly, stroking the length as you lean down to kiss him again. You don’t think you could ever get enough of his lips on your own.

“I’m not exactly getting any action over here, so I don’t have any condoms,” he says into your kiss, voice no louder than a whisper.

“That’s okay,” you run your fingers through his hair. “Wanna feel you anyways, all of you.”

”Fuck, Y/N, you can kill a man with those words.” He groans, nails digging into your hips. You giggle, but it’s interrupted by him sitting you fully, his dick slipping through your lower lips. A whine brushes his ear when the tip catches your clit, repeating the movement until you can’t stay still.

The closest you’ll ever get to Heaven on earth is Yunho’s cock pushing inside of you, filling you up so deliciously you think you could die like this. Your jaw slackens, hands coming up to support yourself on his shoulders. Even if this is a one time thing, something that never happens again during your stay at the farm, he wants you to remember this when you go back home. He wants you to recall this sliver in your timeline and never forget it, wants his name engraved in your memory like a branding iron.

Once he feels you’ve adjusted to him well enough, he pulls you off of him almost entirely, just to ram back in without mercy. He punches a voluminous moan from you, eyes watching where he disappears in you and reemerges. You’re tighter and so much warmer than he dreamed you’d be, but it’s perfect. You suck him in like a vacuum, as if his cock was made to be inside of you, as if you didn’t want him to part from you.

“You’re s-so deep, Yun,” you mewl, pulling him in for another headache-inducing kiss. “Don’t wanna stop.”

He exhales through his nostrils, mumbling out a curse when your walls squeeze around him. He wanted to last a while for you, wanted to hold out and prolong this moment until you were both on the crest of passing out. But you feel like a glove, your silk-adjacent cunt begging for more and more.

“Think I might cum soon, princess,” he groans, tossing his head back and just about losing every ounce of his sanity when your lips start marking the column of his throat.

His big hands move under your thighs, holding you in place so he can fuck up into you. The pace at which his cock drills in and out of your pussy has you seeing stars, eyes snapping shut and nothing but colorful spots decorating your vision. You were already abhorrently sensitive following your first orgasm, so it didn’t really take much to introduce the second.

Your hips stutter and it washes over you like a tidal wave, your body shuddering and collapsing into his top half. He pulls out of you quickly, mouth stationed by your ear as he jerks himself off until he’s painting your backside. He moans, a lot like the sounds he was making the other night, and you feel the need to just kiss him again.

Your lips lock sweetly, a stark contrast to your previous actions. Yunho curves a hand on your cheek, seperating from you the smallest distance so he can admire you. The smile that etches onto his expression makes you dizzier than anything else. However, the cutesiness can only span so long before the setting gives way.

Yunho’s hand snakes in between you, his forefinger sliding up and down your slit teasingly. Your breath comes out shaky, your face finding purchase in the crook of his neck. He replaces the digit with his middle finger, parting your pussy lips in search of your clit. It doesn’t take him very long to find it, rubbing tight circles into the engorged skin. You moan into his shoulder, resting your forehead on it to see the way he works your cunt.

“You’re so wet, baby. Have I not fucked you enough?” He whispers into your ear huskily. Yunho talking dirty to you is something you didn’t know you needed in your life. His finger slips downward, thrusting up into your hole with ease. He keeps massaging your clit with his palm, the stimulation making your head woozy.

“Mmmph— Yun, god. Feels too good.” You whine, gyrating your hips on his hand.

“Is that right, babe?” He encourages, adding a second finger and increasing the speed of their thrusts, almost like you hadn’t been in this position already. “I can’t wait to feel this tight little pussy around my cock again. Gonna fuck you harder than the last.”

Your whimpers raise in volume, focusing on the way he curls his digits in you, applying pressure with the heel of his palm to the circles he’s rubbing into your clit. You can sense your third orgasm approaching, warmth flooding your cheeks at how embarrassingly fast he worked you back up. Your walls clench around his fingers, alerting him of how close you are. He pauses, worming his body down so his face is eye level with your cunt again.

Yunho does the whole teasing thing a second time, kissing and suckling the hot skin of your belly, knowingly denying you of your release. You grab a handful of his hair, tugging at the ends to spur him on. He groans, giving into you and licking a straight line up your slit. He inserts both fingers again, this time using his tongue to manipulate your swollen clit.

The heat of Yunho’s mouth makes your insides ache, the necessity to cum intensifying. You keen loudly, desperately, needily, the sight of the brunette between your legs so incredibly arousing. He sucks on your throbbing clit, his long fingers as deep as they can go, and you crumble.

“Oh my god— oh my god— I’m cumming! I’m—” You cut yourself off, convulsing under him. He laps up as much of your juices as he can, coating his chin with your release. You moan as you pull him towards you to unify your lips, a mixture of your saliva and cum connect your mouths in strings. At this point, the sex is messier than anything you could’ve plucked from your wildest dreams.

One hand trails down your body, using your nimble fingers to play with your sensitive clit when he starts fisting his cock in preparation to enter your pussy again. You use your free hand to scratch at his contracting abs. He hisses, propping himself up with one arm next to your head and his eyes trained on the way you finger yourself at the same time. You can feel his breath on your cheeks and being in this proximity to him fuels your yearning.

“Please, Yun… Need you back inside of me,” you whimper. Rubbing your clit with your own fingers isn’t satisfying enough, not with him here in front of you, not when you know how good he can make you feel.

“Fuck, baby, when you beg like that I don’t know if I can hold back.” He chuckles lowly. It rumbles from his chest, shooting to your core.

“So don’t,” you rouse. “This is more than just a one time thing for me, Yunho.”

His eyes widen just a bit, your confession catching him off guard. That’s all he needs to line himself up with your hole, hooking his forearm under your knee as he slides in, stretching your cunt so perfectly with his perfect cock. “Shit— you’re so tight, princess… It’s almost like I didn’t just fuck you within an inch of your life.” He moans and spreads your legs wider. He bottoms out with a grunt, throwing his head back from the feeling of your velvety walls. A near deafening cry is ripped from your vocal cords. He nips at your neck, starting to piston his hips.

His thrusts don’t slow but become calculated, speeding up and diving deep simultaneously. It only took a short amount of time to figure out what you liked and he used it to his advantage. Yunho hikes your knee to your chest, groping your tits with his free hand. He twists and tugs at your nipples just hard enough that it contributes to your pleasure rather than hurts you.

It’s as if he doesn’t feel buried inside of you sufficiently, because he decreases his pace to press and fold your other leg up, his hips ramming into your ass with each thrust now. The tip of his cock kisses at what feels like your cervix. That familiar coil begins to fasten again, keening with every drive into your cunt. The squelching noises would’ve made you cower in shame with anyone else, but with Yunho it turns you on further.

You moan, and he flattens his hand on the lower part of your stomach. Yunho groans, biting the skin where your shoulder meets your neck. Your fingers find your clit again, circling insatiably to get yourself off.

“You gonna cum for me again?” He rasps, his hold on your legs almost painful. The backs of your thighs burn, but you endure it for the sake of the moment. You reach up and behind yourself, grabbing at the headboard in an attempt to match his force.

“Oh my god, yes— yes yes yes yes,” you babble, the syllables blurring together like your mind. “Gonna cum so hard for you, Yunho. Keep going, please.”

His lips attach to yours, tongues tangling sloppily. The position you’re in is on the opposite end of the spectrum from how you were expecting this summer reunion to go. Had you not been made aware of Yunho living here at the last minute, you probably would’ve backed out of your commitment to staying. Deep down you’re a little too thankful that your grandmother mentioned him when it was too late to reconsider.

“I think I’m in love with you, Y/N,” Yunho whispers into your mouth.

You let go of the headboard, cupping his jaw and kissing him lovingly. “Me too.”

Your fingers speed up and so do his thrusts, perfectly timed with each other to shove you both towards your highs. You’re on the cusp of falling apart, arching into him to close the gap between your bodies.

“Wanna cum inside you. Can I?” Yunho grunts.

“Yes yes, please. Fill me up, Yun, want all of you.”

He continues to abuse your cunt, pounding into you like his life depended on it. You sob, clamping your walls around him. He freezes, suddenly spilling into you. “Come on, baby, cum on my cock.” The warmth of his release and his words coax your orgasm, the fluttering of your cunt milking every single drop from him that it can. Even with his dick plugging you up, you can feel it dripping out of you and onto the sheets below.

He rocks into you languidly until you’ve calmed down enough for him to pull out. His forehead is flush on your chest, rising and falling with it, both of you so spent from the intense physical activity you engaged in. You stare up at the ceiling with heavy eyelids, carding your fingers through his hair to soothe him.

“You meant what you said right? About this not being a one time thing.” Yunho says hesitantly, like he’s afraid of permeating the atmosphere you created.

“I don’t think I can go home at the end of the summer and forget the way I feel for you, Yunho.” You admit out loud. There had been a constant struggle in your head over whether or not to follow your heart, but as he looks at you with those sparkly eyes of his, you know your answer. And you feel a little stupid for ever considering the counter.

“And what exactly are those feelings?” He pushes, folding his hands on your sternum and laying his cheek on top. You giggle, brushing his hair out of his view. As tempting as it was to divulge your theatrical journey in assessing your emotions, you’re too exhausted to stay awake. It would have to wait for another day.

“You have the rest of the summer to find out, cowboy.”

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez jeong yunho #ateez yunho #ateez yunho x reader #ateez yunho smut #jeong yunho x reader #jeong yunho smut #yunho x reader #yunho smut #yunhoszn

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tiredsmashbros · 3 months ago

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SMG34: LIPBITE COMIC WIP UPDATE

oh boy... i know a bunch of folks are hyped for this comic... and boy oh boy are ya'll's prayers going to be heard... kind of... butt for the celebration milestone, and granted majority are from this comic, i thought it was best to give EVERYTHING that i have currently.

starting off STRONG with what you freaks most want: the completed pages. andddd yep that's it that all that i have done LMAO. i've been fixated on my own smg4 oc: tsb, and during the end of my summer was unfortunately fucked over by some personal issues that fortunately got resolved last minute good grief the anxiety prevented me from drawing the gays sigh... aNYWAYS LINEART WIPS!!!!

here are linearts i have completed / in the progress of!! want to aim like i did in the past by finishing up lineart first, and then speed through with color + minor rendering. the reason i have a few colored is to test out what it would look polished and my god... i have improved A LOT. THESE GAY PEOPLE GIVE POWER I AM NOT KIDDING BELIEVE ME IM NOT CRAY- anyways onto wip pages!

jumpscare: tsb stickman sketches. oh yeah. this is how i sketch and i blame sensei eiichiro oda /j. and in case anyone is unable to understand it {i don't blame u LMAO}, smg4 wakes up from the dream and is startled to see mario by his bed. they have a short convo before mario leaves, and we get a job to smg4 in the bathroom trying to put up a brave face. until the moment he leaves he's stunned due to seeing smg3 at his front door. will i elaborate more on specifics or unwritten dialogue? NOPE! gotta keep secrets to make it even more enjoyable at the end!!

currently at 13 sketched pages total, but this is probably gonna be reaching towards 20-ish pages, surpassing part two, but it will depend on how i come up with how to end it. additionally to confirm there will be a PART FOUR / chapter 3, to end this story. my goal is to have it done before i finish my senior year, or at least during the summer after i graduate bc good lord who knows whats gonna happen.

and lastly, before i end this crazy update, SCRAPPED PAGESSS!!!!!

CONTENT WARNING : NSFW SKETCHES !!!! PLEASE LOOK AWAY IF YOU ARE A MINOR OR DON'T LIKE THIS TYPE OF STUFF!!!

oh boy... dont draw comics while sleep-deprived at 6am... idek what i was even aiming with this ngl other than just for fun, but i scrapped it due to not being what i had in mind for the story. if it doesn't serve a purpose or narrative, its bye bye YEAH BYE BYE THIS IS THE CLOSEST NSFW UR GONNA GET FROM ME HAHAHAHAHA- i say that despite writing a nsfw jojo wattpad smh im only confident doing it in words good lord. btw not watermarking these bc i gen don't care since they're legit scrapped {left top part was kept and completed} so idk what to do with these. im just throwing it and walkin away

now to end with this update, i can hear your question, "when will this be done?" and to answer that question: i'm not entirely sure due to my heavy focus on my smg4 oc: tsb, but my best chance is postponing my oc lore a bit and complete this before november UOIYGJDSIUHJKDWSXYUGHJKCS but we shall have too see...

if you want to join the ping list comment on this post LMAO [click]

ignore below if you're not from the tsb birthday partydddjdhdhdjd

...

thurs: smg34 is canon in the tsb universe / au. though most of their encounters are platonic or best-friendy-way, they eventually express their feelings to one another and start dating 3/4’s way of the tsb storyline arc. tsb is a supporter of his friend's relationship and admires and takes inspiration from their relationship heavily to input his future love life. yearning to be in a similar position... to learn what is to really love someone... or what it's truly like to be loved...

#smg34 #smg4 #smg3 #smg4 smg3 #smg43 #smg3 x smg4 #smg4 x smg3 #smg4 fanart #smg3 fanart #smg4 comic #smg34 comic #sketches #comic wip #comic #tsb 1k birthday party #tsb official

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enwoso · 5 months ago

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CHANGED — arsenal wfc x lionesses!reader

now i swear someone requested this but i literally can’t find the request in my inbox at all and i’m actually starting to think ive gone crazy and that i dreamt this request but anyways part two for hyper cause if i dreamt the request or not i loved it for what i can remember of it🙃

read hyper here

masterlist

it had been a few weeks since your chat with leah, and slowly your behaviour had started to change and not for the worse. but for the better!

it took a few more scoldings from leah and kim for doing silly things like, putting food colouring in pelovas shampoo or folding over all the pages in emily's book she was reading or when kept interrupting steph when she was filming a thirty second clip for the media team it ending up taking the australian thirty minutes to film the video instead of a minute.

but after one to many sit downs with leah and kim something clicked in your head and your mischievous acts slowly stopped.

so much so that in the first few days when you hadn't pulled a joke on anyone, the arsenal girls were wondering if you were sick or if something drastic had happened.

the girls feeling on edge about not having to check over their stuff or checking over door handles incase you had gotten to them before they had.

“y/n are you sure your not sick, there’s no way you’ve just turned down kyra’s attempt to cause havoc again!”

“i’m a changed women stephy! that’s the old me!”

and while you were technically a changed women it was all because of that big goal you had looming over your head. that you wanted to reach.

getting to the euro 2025.

yeah you still pulled a small harmless joke like scaring alessia whenever she came around a corner but that was just banter plus her face every time you did it was priceless.

plus leah said you were allowed to have some fun!

"you've had a good session today y/n" kim complimented you as she sat down next to you in the changing room you busy taking off your boots, kim felt a lot more relaxed the past few weeks not having to look over her shoulder every time she took a step in the training ground.

"thanks kim" you smiled at the captain, "let's hope you have another masterclass this weekend ey?" she nudged you as a small laugh came from you as kim was bringing up your two goals you got last weekend in the league.

"i hope so" you shrugged, your mind wasn't really on the weekend as much as it should you were more concerned about if you were going to get the phone call tomorrow or not, which would determine where your family were having their summer holiday.

"you thinking about the getting the call up?" kim asked quietly knowing your head was clearly somewhere else due to your lack of chattiness, normally your teammates would have a hard time getting you to stop talking.

you hummed as you nodded, kim bumping her shoulder into yours. "you'll get the call up, there's been a massive improvement in you over the last few weeks y/n"

you looked up to kim, seeing a genuine look on her face, "i mean it, and not only on the pitch but off the pitch too!"

"gosh your full of compliments today kimmy! did you finally wake up on the right side of the bed" you joked as you watched kim roll her eyes a small scoff coming from her.

"anddd she back! there's the y/n i know!"

it was the next day and it was safe to say you hardly slept spending too long up thinking about what you would do if you didn't get the call up, all those extra sessions, all those days spent trying to change your behaviour would have been for nothing.

but also thinking about what you would do if you did get the call up, how happy you would be and how proud your family would be of you.

walking into the colony you were tired, you were dragging your feet as your walked. your body feeling tired and you hadn't even done anything today yet.

grabbing your usual breakfast and slouching down on a chair on the closest table. "heard anything yet?" you looked up to see leah raising her eyebrows at you. shaking your head you began to eat praying it would wake you up a little.

"the list doesn't get posted until 12 so—" you hummed along with whatever leah was saying before you along with the other who were sat on your table fell into your usual small talk.

"y/n! your phones ringing!" alessia tapped you on the shoulder, your eyes snapping to the phone screen an unknown number on the screen.

"well answer it then!" leah said quickly as you scrambled to answer. standing up and walking over to the stand in the hallway where you'd be able to hear whoever was calling better.

leah, along with beth, kim, lia and alessia were all looking trying to decipher what you were saying and what the scenario was.

"do you think she's got the call up?" beth whispered as leah was trying so hard to lip read what you were saying but was really having no luck as she hadn't a clue what you were saying.

"surely, she'd be a great addition to the squad for the euros" alessia pointed out as beth hummed, along with lia and kim nodding along.

"oh she'll be gutted if she doesn't get it" lia sighed as kim give a knowing look. while she was silently praying for you hoping that you would as she dread to think about your reaction if you didn't get it.

"will you shut up i'm trying to listen!" leah huffed as she scowl at the group before going back to try her lip reading again it feeling as though you'd been standing in that hallway on the phone for the last hour when in reality it had been probably less than ten minutes.

"how is she able to hear when there's a wall there-" alessia whispered in beth's direction as beth shrugged waving off what leah had just said.

"right act normal she coming back-" leah spoke fast turning her body back around to the position she was sat in when you left trying to make out that she hadn't just been intensely staring at the conversation you were having on the phone.

"oh no she doesn't look very happy-" lia whispered, you walking in a small frown on your face. as your shoulders were hanging low as you sighed sitting down in your original seat.

"oh- y/n i'm so sor—"

"I'M GOING TO THE EUROS BABY!" you cheered, your face changing in a split second from a frown to a big cheesy grin as the canteen when quiet for a minute as they all processed what you'd said.

the girls all jumped up hugging you and congratulating you as they told you how proud they were of you.

“what did sarina say?” beth asked as the celebrations calmed down and everyone had sat back down.

“she just said she’d seen how well i’ve been playing and she thinks i could be good option for a game changer at the euros” you said with the same smile, it not leaving your face and probably wouldn’t be for a long time.

leah sat listening to you as you recalled the phone call over to them, as she sat like a proud mother. "yes kiddo! switzerland won't know what has hit them!"

#woso community #woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso blurbs #awfc #arsenal women #alessia russo #leah williamson #lia walti x reader #kim little #alessia russo x reader #leah williamson x reader #beth mead #steph catley #enwoso #england wnt #england women #england

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pinkhoneydrop · 6 months ago

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LoveIsland: EpisodeOne

Welcome to week one in the villa I’m so happy to see everyone together. I hope you’re ready to spend the summer getting flirty and maybe a little feisty. Keep your goal in mind throughout the week when you make your choices!! - Liz

BIG SHOUTOUT TO @finelinepie THANK YOUUU SOOOO MUCH I APPRECIATE YOU SO HARD!!!!!!

///

You didn't think you would be this nervous when you signed up. You had been a fan of the show for a while and got an ad to apply. At first the idea of charity seemed like a good cause to objectify yourself but after some deliberation with friends you quickly realized that you craved the dramatization of the show.

… “You might find the love of your life, you never know.” Your best friend sat across from you in a local cafe. You explained to her the email you received inviting you to join the show this season.

“What if I regret it?” You laughed at yourself as you leaned back in the cafe chair. A lump formed in your stomach from just thinking about what you had done.

Sending in your audition tape while drunk after a night out was probably not the best idea.

“Promise me you'll go and try it out. Try and find a man or even just get laid. You need it and if anything, you leave with a shit ton of money. What's the harm in that?” ...

Maybe your friend was right. Maybe you would fall into a whirlwind romance with your dream guy. But you might not either and that was fine. Living with your best friend forever if you ended up embarrassing yourself on national television was also fine? Right?

For a while before the cameras started up you sat by yourself. All the contestants had their own vans with an obstructed view of the villa. South Africa was a long way from home. The lush landscape and harsh temperature added to the anxiety of meeting everyone you would be spending the summer with. You leaned back in your chair and closed your eyes trying to prepare yourself. A knock on your trailer door and a high-pitched voice alerted your senses.

“Need you all in 5.”

“Here we go.” you whispered to yourself. You looked in the mirror and adjusted yourself. You were wearing your favorite color and felt like you would never truly be ready, so you fluffed your hair and exited your trailer. Three other girls exit as well. The three of you walked along with some crew members to separate spots and each of you entered one by one to a mini bar. Palm trees lined the edge of the deck and tall tables stood in the middle between the bar and the end of the deck. You sighed as your turn came.

“Oh my gosh hi how are you I’m Leila.” A girl who was much taller than you with a head of dark curly hair smiled and greeted you as you walked towards the bar. “Wow, she's cheery. If everyone is like this then summer should definitely be fun.” you thought to yourself as you smiled at her. Not only was she cheerful, but she was also beautiful. A green bikini sat on her hips and wrapped around her shoulders. You chuckled nervously to yourself. Leila took notice and sparked up some casual conversation with you.

{cut to interview}

… “Hey, I’m Leila I’m 26 years old.” music played in the background as Leila spoke during her interview.

“Originally from just outside Manchester and I'm here to find the love of my life.” She smiles as a blush rises to her cheeks and giggles a little as the camera angle changes.

“The other girls better watch out; I've been known to be a bit feisty back home.” the music fades out and the camera returns to the bar…

{cut back to camera 3}

“It's so nice to see a friendly face first thing. I'm kind of nervous.” your smile weakens as you talk to Leila. Not too long after another girl walks in.

“Holy shit.” Leila says as the girl gets closer. You turn to have a look and almost pass out. Long tan legs leading up to the tiniest bikini bottoms that probably ever existed. Your eyes widened and you were lost for words. The girl spoke before you could even form a coherent thought.

“I’m Chloe.” Her voice was a bit high, but you supposed it might have just been all the traveling catching up to her. You watched as Leila gave her the same cheerful smile that she gave to you. Chloe gave a short smirk and twisted her neck to look at you next. Her blonde hair seemed to flow with her movement.

“Y/n.” You stuck your hand out as you introduced yourself. Chloe just looked at it and headed for the bar to get a cocktail.

“Gosh, a bit cold now, isn’t she?” Leila frowned as she watched her. You raised your brow and decided this might be a long summer.

{cut to interview}

… “Hii I’m Chloe I’m 25 from Glasgow and I’m just living life.” Music plays again as another interview starts.

“I love a good English boy who gives good chat and has pretty eyes.” Chloe winks and laughs at herself.

“If my girls would describe me in one word it would be...Maneater.” …

{cut back to camera 3}

“I hope I’m not the only one drinking today.” Chloe spoke as she set three glasses on the table in front of you. It was odd. At least you thought so, but you took the drink anyway hoping to calm yourself.

“Oh, I’ll absolutely take this, thank you, Chloe.”

“No problem girl.” A large smile graced her lips as she watched you drink.

“Guess I’ll have another one as well. Thanks.” Leila was polite enough to escape a glare from the blonde, but you immediately noticed the tension between them. “Interesting…”

Just before anyone could continue the conversation another girl walked into the villa.

{cut to third interview}

… “I’m Genevieve I’m 27 from Dewsbury but I live in LA currently.” The brunette was calm as she spoke and smiled at the camera.

“I’m trying to find work as a model. Navigating LA life is hard but navigating my love life is harder. I just seem to always find my worst match so hopefully it’s different here.” …

{cut to camera 2}

Her confident stride and striking appearance instantly drew everyone’s attention. Chloe, the first to react, sized her up with a quick, appraising glance before flashing her trademark bright smile.

“Well, look who decided to join the party,” Chloe said, her tone dripping with a mix of faux friendliness and thinly veiled competitiveness. Genevieve smiled graciously, taking in the room. “Hey everyone,” she greeted, her voice smooth and inviting.

“I’m Genevieve. I hope I’m not too late.” Leila, who had been nursing her drink, immediately stood up and walked over to Genevieve.

“Hi Genevieve, I’m Leila,” she said warmly.

“Nice to meet you. Want a drink?” Genevieve’s smile widened.

“Sure, I’d love one. Thanks, Leila.”

As Leila prepared a drink for Genevieve, Chloe leaned in closer to you. “Another model, huh? This should be interesting,” she whispered, her eyes never leaving Genevieve. You could sense the undercurrent of tension in Chloe’s voice but chose to stay neutral.

“Yeah, let’s see how things unfold,” you replied quietly, taking another sip of your drink. Leila returned with a drink for Genevieve, who accepted it with a grateful nod. “So, Genevieve, tell us a bit about yourself,” Leila encouraged, her genuine interest in breaking the ice.

“Well, I’m 27 and I’ve been living in LA for a few years now,” Genevieve began.

“I’m trying to break into modeling. It’s tough and I have to keep the lights on by serving, but I love the challenge. And, of course, I’m here to hopefully find the right guy.”

The other girls listened intently, some nodding in understanding. Chloe, however, remained somewhat aloof, swirling her drink thoughtfully.

“LA, huh? That must be quite a change from Dewsbury,” she commented, a hint of skepticism in her voice. Genevieve nodded, unfazed by Chloe’s tone.

“It is, but I love it. The energy, the opportunities—it’s all worth it.” Chloe smirked, leaning back in her chair.

“Well, good luck to you babe. You’re going to need it.” Leila shot Chloe a disapproving look before turning back to Genevieve.

“Don’t mind Chloe. She can be a bit much sometimes as were learning,” she said with a wink. “We’re all here to find love, after all.” Genevieve laughed lightly, clearly not perturbed.

“Thanks, Leila. I’m looking forward to getting to know all of you.”

You didn’t know how Leila did it. Keep up the niceties with all these women. The relationships right now were all surface. This is the time to be strategically quiet. Or in your case just nervously so. As the conversation continued, the initial tension began to dissipate, replaced by curiosity and a tentative camaraderie. The girls were eager to see how Genevieve would fit into the group dynamics, and despite Chloe’s initial frostiness, there was a sense of anticipation about what the next days would bring.

{cut to camera 1 in a wide shot panning over the girls and host}

“Hello ladies and welcome to the villa. We have you here today in this beautiful villa to hopefully find some love, friendship, or fortune. We have gathered you here on the lawn beside the pool deck to introduce you to the guys.” The sun was high in the sky as you stood on your marked spot. The girls lined up next to you all giggled and cheered at the introduction. You smiled along and tried to calm your nerves. Were they really about to just parade a bunch of hot guys around for you to ogle over? You looked to the right, and you saw Chloe and to your left you saw Genevieve and Leila. Not knowing too much about anyone yet you felt a little out of place. 6 weeks with these people and you would be competing with them the whole time. Not a single one of them seemed to share the nerves building in your body. The camera crew hustled about, and you stood to attention after adjusting your bikini bottoms on your hips.

{cut to camera 3 on the pathway}

“First we have Daniel Jones, he is from south London.” a blonde man with a toned physique who walked down the path leading to the pool deck where the host was standing. “He's cute.” you thought to yourself.

“How are you doing this morning Daniel?” the host turned to speak with him. The sun beat down on everyone but despite that the girls all smiled at Daniel.

“I'm doing great now that I have some eye candy to look at.” Daniel's words came out confidently as he smiled at each of you on your marks. He was definitely fit. Tan skin shining in the sun and a pair of navy-blue trunks on his waist. You eyed him from your spot, and he winked at you in acknowledgement. Heat manifested in your cheeks at the gesture.

“How are you today, ladies?” His voice was smooth, catching your attention and no doubt the other girls as well.

“Alright Daniel, go stand on that first mark and let's see the next guy, shall we?” The host smiled and turned to face the pathway.

The sun was high in the sky that morning as the next guy came out. All of the girls adjusted themselves as the cameras cut back and forth between them.

“Here we have Elias, he is from London but lives in LA. Elias, how are you?”

Elias was gorgeous. Dark hair sitting atop his head and muscles peeking out of darker skin that looked perfectly Sunkissed. He wore deep rust orange shorts and had his ears pierced. You blushed as he caught your eye and sent a small nod in your direction.

“I'm doing alright.” His voice was deep and gravely. You could only imagine what his personality was like as he stood at attention. A couple of the ladies snickered at one another, and Elias smirked at the attention he was getting. Just like Daniel, Elias moved to stand next to his mark.

“Ladies, how are we feeling about the selection so far?” The host spoke to all of you and garnered some exclamations from the whole group.

“The selection is fit; how can we complain?” Genevieve spoke up first. She was beautiful to look at and if you were one of the guys you definitely would want her to couple up with you. Long brown hair with highlights framing her face. As you were admiring her, your thoughts were interrupted by a rather whiney voice.

“Yeah exactly, but I have to say I'm excited for this special guest.” The next girl to speak was Chloe and she turned to give the other girls a light glare as if she were daring them to challenge her. Chloe was a natural blonde with green and brown eyes that peered into your soul. You made a mental note not to get in her way if you could avoid it.

The host continued on and introduced the next man to the group. All the ladies gave him their attention, as it seemed he was a crowd favorite as soon as he was in sight.

“Ladies, this is River Davis from Michigan.”

River was hot, you have to admit. Lighter hair shaved low on the sides and defined muscle tapering into his trunks. Your eyes traveled trying to find a decent place to look that wasn't suggestive.

“Nice to see you, River.”

River smiled at the host and took her hand for a light shake. Turning his attention to the ladies he kept his smile and stood up straight.

“Nice to see you too. Ladies, how are you all doing?” His voice was deep too. Elias might have some competition with this one you thought. All the ladies replied in various ways as the men stood on their marks.

“Before we get to coupling time, we have one more guest joining us. Our celebrity guest this season is…” honey smiled at the group as she paused for effect.

All the ladies waited with bated breath to hear and see who was coming out next. Your breath caught in your throat as you saw brown hair through the bushes.

“Harry Styles!” The host turned and began clapping.

Harry emerged from the trail looking amazing. Tan underneath his inked skin, Trunks resting low on his hips exposing the ferns and a freshly cut head of hair to match his mustache.

“Hello everyone, m’Harry.”

You almost melted after hearing his voice in person. There was just something about him that made you feel at home, and you didn't even know the guy yet. Did you want to get to know him? Part of you felt like maybe you shouldn't, like it would be better to remain a fan of his work and omit yourself from the possibility of him being an asshole.

First choice is coming next episode!!!!

The islanders

@chelseawgnr @rafesfavoritegirl @finelinepie @sunflower-golden-vol6 @unlikelystay @sarah-ev @playhousebunni @gem1712 @indierockgirrl @boldlycoolkitty @wherearethewatermelons @tpwkvickysblog @harrystylesconcepts @superiorfemme @vashapnin @sassamanda77 @henrysteelsmurryme @littlenatilda @devilsqueen722 @ashleighsss @b3ccaaa @x100preme @lomlolivia @fanfictioncafe @racshouse42 @crazygirlinthisworld @harrys-flower @bloodywickedlips @harryshousewitnessprotection @champagnepronlemsxxxx

@harryhad-alittlelamb

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #hslot 2023 #harry styles x black!reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader smut #Harry styles choose your own adventure #love island

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pirateprincessblog · 11 months ago

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Blue Paradise

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: the news of park seonghwa, your best friend's brother you haven't seen in years, joining your birthday trip to maldives doesn't excite you the slightest. so far.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: park seonghwa x reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 19.5k

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: smut, bit of angst, summer love, innocent but curious seonghwa, experienced reader, childhood friends, a little sadist reader, almost a milf, subby seonghwa

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: oral (both receiving), public, submissive seonghwa, dominant reader, gagging

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, nsfw scenes, mentions of eating disorder, mentions of body dysmorphia

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: use of the word noona! i'm not a koreaboo i promise, and i don't care if you think it's cringe, the word noona has a special grip on me. eternal sunshine prettiest boy seonghwa is the one i'm writing about in this piece <33 my sadistic side is showing a little here. also ???????

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

when you said the words i'm fine out loud, you weren't sure if you were trying to convince the group of girls in front of you, or yourself. you weren't angry. nor sad. you were simply disappointed. the notebook you were subconsciously gripping in your lap contained all the plans and goals that were now impossible to fulfill. just two days before leaving your hometown and visiting the sweet tropical delight, nearly all the people from your friend group decided they wouldn't be going. the trip was paid by you, as a celebration for your birthday.

maybe you chose the wrong location. or the wrong time. or just the wrong people. it didn't matter. you could say goodbye to the printed images of the blue water and the clear sky in the notebook, along with the idea of swimming with sharks or drinking straight out of a coconut. you worked hard to save up for this celebration. hours of working even after your shift was done, drowning in sweat and running home just for a few extra dollar bills. little by little, you saved up for all the tickets. true, your parents did give you money here and there. but you have your little hobbies and dirty pleasures, and oh, you just love desserts and dresses. it's not easy to save up when the marketing teams of your favorite stores work harder than you or your parents. how can you not buy that tight bright pink sequin dress with the feathery sleeve ends? and the heels which come in half price if you buy the matching bag? what a steal.

your eyes scan the room, looking for the slightest sign of guilt on their faces. yet, not a single one was visible. you wished to rip their plane tickets in front of their faces, throw the notebook at the girl who proposed the idea of rather staying home instead of getting drunk in a whole different location far from home. you witnessed their excitement, screaming and yelling when you announced the trip. then, what happened?

"we're sorry, but-"

"you're not sorry. you just want the feeling of guilt to disappear. that is, if you're feeling guilty at all." you interrupt, your tone pure frost.

your best friend cups your hand, making you soften the grip on the notebook. in other circumstances, she is the one who does the talking. but today, she is willingly letting you handle it. you've had enough of everyone using you and reaching out to you only when they need something.

"it's not like we took any money from you. you're acting like we robbed you or something." the girl says, looking at the rest of the group and asking for support.

"not directly, you didn't." your face stays stone cold. "but cancelling this late means i cannot get a refund. or real friends to go with me."

they all scoff in disbelief, some of them already angry and ready to start spitting insults. you don't care. you're ready for everything they have to throw at you.

"real friends? are you fucking with me?"

you feel like you're in a euphoria episode. and yes, it is as fun as it looks. especially when you know damn well you're right, and they're wrong. you watch them yell at you, accusing you of accusing them, making up a thing or two along the way, even getting into your face and pointing into your chest. you watch with a lazy smile, which only enrages them more. each moment that passes, they're only proving you right. they were here just for the money. if you asked them your favorite colour, they'd just look at each other helplessly. but if you asked them how much your parents have given you for christmas, they'd know to the last cent.

"you know what? fuck your parents, your trip, your money and your fake ass."

and just like that, you were left alone with the only true friend in the big house. the appetizers were untouched, and so were the cocktails. you feel a hand wrap around your shoulders.

"we'll figure something out. i won't let anyone ruin your birthday."

you smile, this time sincerely. it takes less than fifteen minutes to lift your spirits. with your friend saying stupid things in a normal tone, it's easy to come out of the shell. you're already opening your notebook again, scribbling over the names that were once involved, and adding up new plans.

"you know, we have to go swimsuit shopping. i'm still bloated from the period, and i don't think it'll pass until the trip. the plane ride will only make it worse."

you agree, already picturing the colour and shape you'd want to wear. but still, what to do with the remaining tickets? the amount of money is too huge to just let it go. you can't ask your parents to come, they're busy with a recent project that is supposed to help their business. you can't think of any other friends, and there's no way in hell you'll bring your sibling. constant bickering is something you wish to leave for home, not bring to the maldives.

"what do i do with the tickets?" you mumble, your head now lying on top of the notebook. you feel helpless. at this point, you want to cancel and never go anywhere again.

"well, you might kill me for this, but i have an idea."

you turn your head to the side, cheek pressing into the notebook. your friend is sprawled over the couch upside down, her feet resting on top of the backrest and her head hanging from the seat. she dramatically chews the chips, purposely dragging it out to tease you.

"come on now, we have a little over twenty four hours from the flight. i'm begging you, give me a solution that will save my money."

the girl finally swallows the chips, then looks up at the ceiling.

"when was the last time you visited my home?"

not sure how that is connected to her idea, you raise an eyebrow in confusion. "i can't remember. your parents usually come over here instead of us coming over. why?"

"well, you do know that i have a brother?"

"that i do." you laugh, remembering the little rascal. even though he was younger, he never hesitated to flip you both off when you bothered him, or kick you in your knees if you even looked at him the wrong way. ever since he enrolled to a high-school in a city nearby, you barely saw him. then, he went to college. he comes over every other weekend, but sometimes not even that. it's been many years since you've last seen him. "little park seonghwa."

"not so little now," she laughs, "i think he's, like, taller than your dad."

"impossible. he was shorter than me last time i saw him."

"yeah, because he was eleven."

you roll your eyes. she's right, but you'd rather eat scrapped toast burns than admit it. you hear the leather of the couch squeaking, then footsteps. she sits next to you on the floor, then pulls the notebook towards herself without warning. your head follows the notebook, almost falling off and hitting the edge of the table. you glare at her, but she just giggles mischievously.

"i thought, we could invite him and his friends."

"invite your little brother with us? to the maldives?"

she nods, not seeing anything wrong with it. your brain is already listing out what things are out of question and impossible.

"first of all, he's like, fifteen."

"he's twenty-four."

"he's basically a kid." you ignore her, sticking to your own idea as if you know her brother better than her.

"you'd be surprised how much of an adult he is now. little turd still gets on my nerves, but he has come a long way. he even hugs me sometimes."

you sigh. in your head, he is still the little eleven year old seonghwa with blue shorts and the green polo shirt. seonghwa with the blue crocs and a dirty ipad. seonghwa who would enter the room without knocking just so he could wipe his boogers on your clothes. gross.

"fine, let's say he comes along. am i supposed to wear a bikini in front of him?"

"that's normal! it's just a bikini. besides, i haven't seen him make a move on a girl since he got roasted by one for his hair at homecoming."

you can't help but feel bad for the poor boy. your brain forms an unwanted image of seonghwa, all dressed up and fixed for his date, only for his date to bring him down in front of everyone.

"i did not need to imagine that." you mumble to yourself, then try to take the pen from your friend. "give me that."

"no, wait! he has like seven friends, so one ticket will still be an extra. still better than all nine going to waste, right?"

"right."

"so,

seonghwa takes mel's ticket,

wooyoung takes lara's ticket,

mingi takes josie's-"

"hold on, hold on. they're all boys?"

"men, yes."

you close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose. you try to breathe, but the idea of taking literal kids to such an expensive vacation is driving you crazy.

"i'm going there to get drunk, get a tan and fuck somebody in my pretty pink dress, maybe even get scissored by you, not to babysit your brother and his friends. and what the fuck are those names, are they forming a kpop group?"

the girl laughs, her head falling back against the sofa behind you. all of this is so hilarious to her, while you're feeling like it's a bad dream that'll be gone if you pinch yourself enough.

"first of all, very flattering, i appreciate that. i'll think about the offer. second, you're literally just a couple years older than them. and third, they're more than capable of getting more drunk than you and fuck someone, just like us."

there wasn't any space to think about it. it's either spending the week guarding kids from getting alcohol poisoning or spending the week feeling guilt because of the lost money.

"fine."

"oh? just like that?"

"what other choice do i have? let the kids have fun."

she giggles, then finishes the scribbling on the page. you scan over the names, then the female ones that were crossed out. you feel your heart tighten, but remembering that you got rid of something you didn't need the whole time, you feel at ease.

"i'll tell them to come over tomorrow, just so you can meet them and tell them the plan."

"yeah, that'd be great."

the rest of the day is spent outside, visiting various stores and trying on various swimsuits. all of them were extremely exposing, something you weren't quite used to. still, you managed to gain the confidence and buy a risky set. a baby pink set with panties that had a lower cut than you preferred, along with a shiny waist chain, and a decent bra. the summer heat waves were more than present, causing people to run into stores just to cool off, including the two of you.

after an ice cream, a few burgers and slushies, you finally collapsed on your bed. it wasn't long until your alarm clock had your eyes peeling open. you had slept for almost nine hours, yet it felt like ten minutes.

your friend was supposed to be here around dinner, bringing takeout and the boys with her. you made a deal that the boys could sleep over, so that you can drive to the airport together without having to wait for anyone. you packed all day, proudly stacking your bikinis for each day of the week. the pink one was reserved for the day of your birthday, the shiny chains carefully placed in the corner so they don't get broken in transit.

you had just packed your backpack, changed into a dress that didn't stick to your skin, letting your it breathe and get a relief from the hot summer evening. you admired your skin, wishing for it to stay that clean during the following week. you had refrained yourself from eating chocolate for three whole weeks, and the results finally showed up. you were proud of yourself for not picking on it, and decided to keep a count for it. it'll make you happy when you see a progress each morning.

deep voices travel to your ears, a sign that they have arrived. you didn't expect them to sound this grown up. you expected those soft boyish voices, that match their boy body structures. but once you reach the bottom of the stairs, you stop breathing for a moment. these weren't boys. not at all.

they were men.

eight tall men stood in your living room, patiently waiting and helping your best friend sort out the food orders. one of them stood extra close to her, telling off others if they get too close. could it be?

and as if he knew what you were thinking, he turns his head, eyes looking directly into yours. you stand there, not moving a muscle. you are scared to breathe. a sudden wave of anxiety washes over your body. these were all grown men foreign to you. and then it hits you.

they're all going on a vacation with you. they'll all see you in a bikini, in your dresses, they'll see you drink. they'll probably see you get railed somewhere behind a club. they'll probably see you at your worst when you're near alcohol. fuck.

"oh, there you are! i was already starting to go mad with all these male alphas." she turns to look at them, and one of them sticks his tongue out at her. "let's eat first and then you'll do the introduction and all that shit."

park seonghwa doesn't avert his gaze from you. he smiles, sending you a little wave from across the room and giving you the prettiest eyes you've ever seen in your life. the sparkly irises wake up a volcanic eruption in your stomach; something you haven't felt in a while. the boy- young man- sits down on the floor, his back resting against the sofa. seeing your frozen state, the girl comes towards you, hands resting on your shoulders.

"look, i know it's a bit much for you, and you definitely didn't expect them to look or act this mature and intimidating, - and, well, bulk - but give them a chance. they're really nice and comfy to be around."

you nod, then skim over the group once again. they're all wearing short sweats with basic t-shirts, yet you feel under-dressed. you wished you put something nicer on, like that green flower dress or-

"come on, now. your food is getting cold."

they have spared a seat for both of you on the other sofa, along with a set of forks and plastic plates.

"my friend is a little shy, give her a moment," she announces, and pretends to not notice you glaring from the side. "anyways, enjoy your meals."

everyone eats in silence, occasionally murmuring something among themselves. you take the moment when you're out of focus to scan each one of them. they were all built athletically, with their t-shirts straining against their muscles and the thighs occasionally flexing as they laughed or spoke. then, you stopped at seonghwa. his dark hair was softly falling over his eyes, and his bright teeth showed up every now and then whenever his friends spoke. you watched his hands spin the fork to get the spaghetti easier into his mouth, the veins on his arms distracting you from your own food. he brings the food to his lips, eating in a way so polite, chewing with his mouth closed and no messy ketchup accidents. you were amazed that this man is the little seonghwa with boogers smeared on his star wars t-shirt.

he catches your gaze again, this time smiling wider than before.

"noona, how have you been?"

you wish to bury your face between the sofa cushions. the name he once used to call you because his mother made him, was now used because he himself wanted to. why else would a grown man call you that in the place far from his homeland, where that labeling is not necessary?

"good, seonghwa. very good." you manage to say, cheeks burning as he smiles sweetly at you. "what about you?"

"i've been good, noona. pushing through college, trying not to drop out."

"says the guy with all of his exams at not lower than ninety-five percent," his friend scoffs.

he earns himself a nudge in the ribs, then whines dramatically.

"jongho, you're basically in kindergarten." your friend teases, and the young man acts offended.

"just because i'm the youngest-"

"so, seonghwa's sister's best friend, exactly where are we going and what will we be doing?"

you laugh at the addressing, then set the plate aside. the focus is on you, and your head becomes dizzy for a moment. you feel lost in time and space, and it takes you a while to get back to reality. you're there, surrounded by nine people who are waiting for you to speak instead of staring blankly. it takes one knee pat from your friend to assure you that it's okay to speak, and that they'll listen.

"we'll be staying at bungalows, the small ones you see on insta all the time. which means two to three people per one. i'll make the list later, so we can settle as soon as we arrive and not lose time on organizing."

you continue to explain your plans, but make sure to tell them they're not obligated to follow what you had in mind. still, they all seemed amazed at your ideas that none of them protested. by the end of the meal, the conversation had gone from stiff to comfortable, with multiple people talking and you feeling confident enough to speak up when needed.

"seonghwa is scared of sharks, what do we do about that?"

"i'm not, you dipshit."

"language," you laugh, looking at the bickering young men in front of you.

"sorry, noona," and there it is, the sickeningly sweet smile again. he does it so naturally, it has your heart fluttering.

the conversation about sharks and how harmless they are continues, and your focus shifts on the dessert they brought. you ate a whole plate of your favorite takeout meal, and drank almost three glasses of soda. would they think you eat too much if you took just one cupcake?

you reach for the red velvet delight, your eyes focused on your friend as she scolds the boys for the unnecessary swearing and dirty comments. your fingers brush against something cold, and you look down to find seonghwa reaching for the same cupcake as you. he sees you hesitate, so he splits the dessert in half, leaving the bigger one for you on the plate. you give him a smile of gratitude, then lean back into the leather and listen about dinosaurs and chickens and how they're related.

almost two and a half hours later, you notice them getting sleepy. they help you pick up the trash from the dinner, and then stand in front of you, as if waiting for orders.

"i'll pull out these sofas for four of you, and the other four can fight about two guest bedrooms with a couple bed."

seven of them call dibs, running upstairs to the rooms and fighting along the way.

"like i said, kids."

"oh, i don't think kids can do this."

you look at seonghwa, who was fine with sleeping on a pullout sofa, and raise your eyebrows with amusement, and amazement, as he flexes his arm in front of you. your expression is probably priceless. the veins traveling along his muscular arms are giving you trouble breathing, or existing at all.

"stop flexing in front of my friend, you idiot. she's not impressed."

"right," he says, clicking his tongue and laughing when he gets hit by a pillow. "i'll take it from here. you go rest, noona."

seonghwa takes the covers and pillows from you, making sure to brush his fingers against yours once again, looking into your eyes with a smile while doing so. he could step on you and smile like that, you'd ask him to do it again.

"oh, it's not a problem." you insist.

your friend clicks her tongue, then rolls her eyes. she puts her hands on your shoulders, gently pushing you upstairs to your room.

"if the little turd wants to set up his bed, let him. that's the only use you'll have of him this whole trip."

"i love you too!"

and that's the last thing you hear from him before going inside your room. voices echo through the hallway, coming from the two guest rooms. you hear them play various games to decide who wins the bed, yet when one side wins, they switch to a different game that benefits the other side. they stop only after you've brushed your teeth and changed into sleepwear. you hear multiple heavy footsteps passing by your door, then knocking.

"yes?" you say, looking at the door through the mirror. your fingers don't let go of the halfway braided hair as a head peeks in, eyes quickly scanning the room, then falling on you. you remember the man as wooyoung. he's the social butterfly of the group, that you've noticed.

"nice pj's, noona." he grins, shamelessly staring at your bottom. "pandas look very cute on you."

"wooyoung you come over here right fucking now." hongjoong, you think, warns him. you laugh, still looking at the young man standing at your door, now holding it open for everyone to see inside.

four of them are lined up behind him, trying to sneakily look inside. until hongjoong rushes them all downstairs, then points his finger at wooyoung with a stern look.

"out."

"whoops, gotta go. good night, noona."

the door closes with a loud thud, hongjoong's scolding still travelling through it. it doesn't feel the same when he calls you that. only seonghwa can do it properly. wooyoung seems to be using it in a flirting way, yet seonghwa... he seems genuine with it. he says it so sweetly, with respect. you find yourself excited about hearing it again tomorrow. and the day after it. and the whole week like that. so far, you're having a great time. you can't wait to see what surprises this week has for you.

after many plane pictures and more scolding from hongjoong and you all the way to the destination, you're finally gathered in front of the most vibrant sea you've ever seen in your life. your body soon falls face first into the mattress, as if you haven't been sitting and sleeping for hours until now. your friend, on the other hand, already had plans to dive into the endless turquoise heaven.

"come on, now. we didn't come to sleep." she throws a pillow at you, which you don't bother to avoid. it lands on your head and stays there, making her giggle. "we have all night to do that."

"if we have all night to sleep, when are you planning to get drunk and laid?" you mumble.

at the other bungalow, park seonghwa is cussing under his breath. he shouldn't have agreed to the trip right away. he should have seen you first. then, when he realizes just how hot you are and how difficult it is to maintain his polite attitude around you, he'd decline the invitation. now, he stands in front of the mirror, scolding himself for not going to the gym when his friends would ask him. and to think you'll see him shirtless at the beach for seven days straight?

then, he realizes. he will see you too. fuck, how will he survive it? to see you in a bikini, with your skin all exposed to the sun? with water drops sliding down your sun-kissed skin? what if you had a tattoo somewhere, like right above your panties on your back?

"seonghwa, are you going?"

his head follows the voice, face blank and brain suddenly frozen. "huh?"

wooyoung snickers, grabbing the deflated beach ball they had brought. "here, make yourself useful until you are capable of leaving this place in a normal shape."

he throws the plastic smelling item at seonghwa, who is now as red as the cocktail wooyoung is already slowly sipping. "it's not what you think-"

"we'll be outside, having fun. without you. bye!"

and just like that, park seonghwa is left alone in his shared bungalow, with a flat beach ball in his hands and a painful erection in his pants. maybe, just maybe, he could skip today.

his plan goes well, and he spends his free time collecting all the discarded sweaty clothes from the flight. carelessly thrown items around the place are now neatly organized on the dresser. he is now wearing a tank top, the one which makes his body look bigger and more formed. just in case he bumps into you. which he hopes he won't. not yet, at least.

he manages to clean the mess in the other bungalows, then proceeds to the last one: his sister and yours. he wonders how bad he would get scolded if he did a little cleaning inside. after all, his sister is a bigger mess than him. he stares at the opened suitcase, disapprovingly scanning the balled up clothes his sister had 'packed'. then, he sees yours. it is perfectly packed, corners neatly tucked so that you don't have to iron and creases won't form on the delicate materials. your side of the space is a drastic difference from his sister's, and it looks like something out of a cartoon.

voices travel to his ears, mingi's dominating. he goes deeper into the room, until he is standing at the other exit looking at the sea, with the net hanging above it. he has seen the view countless times on those influencer instagram accounts and pinterest, but witnessing it all first-hand is truly a breathtaking experience. no signs of sharks yet, though. luckily for him.

but the unlucky part is still here for seonghwa. he catches a glimpse of you in the deep water, your figure swallowed by the vibrant liquid, hiding your form from him. his eyes feel blurry, sudden heat spreading in his body. he's wondering what kind of swimwear you are wearing.

was it a one-piece? the one with the covered front but exposed back? the one exposed on both sides? the one with a deep cut? or the one with a regular cut but high leg? maybe it was a two-piece. maybe it was pastel, it would suit you. you seem like the type of girl to like soft themed things. or maybe you're like that just on the surface. maybe you liked fierce things, like a g-string and triangle top which barely covers your tits. or those panties that are tied up on the sides, and come off with just a pull of a single string.

he feels his swim shorts getting tight again. he looks down, hopeless. this whole trip is going to end him. the man turns around, trying to clear his head. but how is it possible, when he is standing in the middle of your belongings and he can clearly hear your laughter from outside? his eyes fall on your suitcase, again admiring your folding skills. he might have to take a few classes from you.

then, he spots the bikini section in the corner. his eyebrows raise in surprise at the amount you had packed. his fingers reach for the one on top, carefully pulling it out without disrupting the organisation of other items. a brasilian cut hangs from his finger in all its glory, the vibrant green taking all his focus. he spreads it, and exhales once he realizes how high it has to sit on your hips. the matching white top is indeed triangles, with extra long strings. will you wrap them all around your waist like he saw on instagram? or maybe you have your own creative ideas and you'll surprise him?

"seonghwa?"

caught red handed, he stands like a deer on a highway. he feels his knees go weak, barely holding his body up. he stuffs the panties in his pocket, and immediately curses himself. he couldn't have thrown them into the suitcase?

"seonghwa?" you call again, voice dripping honey as you say his name he suddenly loves.

"yes?" he says, voice raspy and tone uneven. he clears his throat, and runs his fingers through his hair. he tries to collect himself before you can see him this messy and flustered. but his cheeks become an even deeper crimson when you step into the room, colour almost matching your swimwear. he has to grit his teeth to keep his jaw from falling. but his eyes betray him. they shamelessly roam your body, taking in everything you are serving him. you're wearing a one-piece today, cuts sitting high up on your legs, and a deep cut going down to your belly button. your hair is falling over your tits, denying him a chance to be a complete creep right in front of you.

"you're missing all the fun." you pout, eyes big as you look up at him.

it takes every ounce in his body to not slam you right there and worship every inch of your body, from the food belly bump to the stretch marks decorated with water drops. he wished to hold your waist, to feel the wet fabric which stayed tight against your skin. he is breathless in front of you, and you haven't done anything but exist.

"seonghwa?" you say once again, calling him out of his fantasies.

"yes, noona?" he breathes out, hoping your eyes stay locked with his until the situation in his pants calms down.

"aren't you going to join us?"

no, i'd rather stay and stroke myself to death thinking about you.

"not today, sorry. i'm not feeling well."

he tries to leave the room, but your fingers press into his chest, pushing him back in front of you. just when he thinks you have discovered his plans and his little crime, he is confused once again. you press your palm on his forehead, then his cheeks. your brows furrow, and he subconsciously mimics your expression.

"well, you are hot. and not the it's summer kinda hot. maybe you should really stay." you say, disappointment evident in your voice.

the last thing he wanted to do is let down the person who made this whole trip and his erection happen. he closes his eyes for a moment, clearing his head as much as he can. "i'll come."

the smile you give him is enough to make him do whatever you want. you have him wrapped around your finger, and you don't even know it.

he spends the day laying in the sun, occasionally napping and waking up when cold water drops hit his hot skin and he feels a figure blocking the sun.

"you're ruining my vibes, san."

"oh, sorry, mr i'm horny for my sister's best friend."

seonghwa's eyes shoot open, and he sits up immediately. san giggles, searching his backpack near seonghwa's head. the man smacks his friend behind the head, resulting in a glare from him.

"stop saying dumb shit, you'll get me in trouble for nothing." he scolds.

san raises an eyebrow, eyes dropping to the man's crotch. seonghwa covers it with a t-shirt, cheeks burning from embarrassment once again.

"wouldn't call that thing a nothing. if anything, it's truly a something."

"you fucking weirdo, get out." seonghwa growls, head falling back on the beach towel. "as if i have any chance with her anyway."

little did he know, you had trouble keeping up the conversation with your friend. the way park seonghwa took off his tank top so sensually, exposing his defined figure so you can drool over it, had you pressing your thighs together underwater. you watch as he smacks his friend for something he has said, then briefly lock eyes with him. his gaze goes from sharp to soft so quickly, and you wonder if he is aware of how much impact his eyes have. awkwardly, you wave towards him, inviting him into the water. you're not sure if he has gotten the message, since he doesn't move from the beach towel. just when you start to shift your attention to the conversation going on near you, you see him stand up.

he steps into the water, shivering at the coldness. as hot as it was, he still felt uneasy entering it.

"ah, seonghwa decided to show up." wooyoung grins, throwing the ball his way.

you hear him cuss when water splashes him from the ball, and your thighs press again when he picks it up, an annoyed look on his face. the serious gaze has your stomach doing back flips, and by now you're sure that you're wet. all for your best friend's brother. you struggle to stop staring, hell, almost drooling, but when he glances at you one more time, you're almost sure that a smirk was on his lips. he then dives into the water, his figure disappearing completely for a few moments. you begin to worry, and you start to swim forwards in hopes you'll catch a glimpse of him somewhere. and then, you gasp.

park seonghwa resurfaces right in front of you, face to face. your jaw drops subconsciously, and if you weren't in deep water, you'd probably search for a place to sit. the young man opens his eyes, ignoring the burning from the salty water. maintaining eye-contact with you, he runs his fingers through his hair, slicking it back so that it doesn't bother him. you watch in awe as water drops glide down his golden cheekbones and lips, toned chest and arms, and you have to fight every urge in your body to not lean in and kiss him right there.

"hi, noona." his lips curve in a sweet smile, the one that has your heart beating a little too fast for two days now.

"seonghwa," you choke out, the poorest greeting that has ever come out of you.

"let's join them, shall we?"

you feel a light touch on the small of your back, and that's when you decide it's enough for today. it's only day one, and if you decide to ruin a vacation or a friendship, you'll do it on the last day. until then, you have to gain control over your body again.

"actually, i'm feeling a bit tired. "

a slight frown appears on seonghwa's face, almost barely noticeable. he pulls his hand back, and you want to whine at the loss of contact. it was only a second, yet you crave his whole existence. you want to feel him all over you, his warmth, his scent, the refreshing water beads and his firm hands on your waist as he fucks you into the hanging net, looking at the sunset over your shoulder. images form in your brain, one, two, three, four. then suddenly, a whole scenario. park seonghwa having you in the water. park seonghwa consuming you in your bungalow as you hide from his sister. park seonghwa making love to you in the moonlight in the shallow water. you breathe out, feeling your chest getting heavy with each thought that rushes through your brain.

"i'll see you at dinner tonight." you wave at the group, then swim past the man that squeezes the filthiest thoughts out of your brain without him even knowing.

you drop down on your bed, sprawled out like a starfish. you stare at the wooden ceiling, trying to collect your thoughts. but how can you, when he looks so goddamn good in those beach shorts and his hair slicked back, with a few strands falling over his eyes? it's been long since you craved someone's touch. fuck, you don't think you've ever craved someone this much. you don't remember wishing for anyone to fuck you in any place you can think of.

meanwhile, seonghwa is busy hiding his frown from the group. you dragged him outside, just for you to run back inside. he'd be lying if he said he wasn't staring at your ass up until the moment you disappeared inside the bungalow. he stays away from his sister, afraid that she might somehow hear his thoughts and become angry. she cannot know about his feelings. nobody can. well, nobody else. his friends weren't blind, but they aren't the ones to rat out a person. it is a chance for seonghwa to stop on time and save his bond with his sister. he can't even begin to imagine the disaster that would happen if she ever knew. besides, you don't look at him that way. for god's sake, he used to fight you all the time as a kid, purposefully sneezing into your face just to see you freak out. he giggles with himself, remembering your angry and crying face while running to tell his mother.

"don't you think you should get out of the water?" the female voice interrupts his thoughts, and he looks at the group that has formed a circle and is playing with the beachball.

"no, why?" san ignores, throwing the ball seonghwa's way.

"everybody's lips are practically green. let me see your fingers. i bet they're pruney as fuck."

a round of protesting and finger examining later, the woman is forcing everybody but seonghwa out of the water. as she swims past him, she makes sure to ruffle his hair, giggling at the result.

"you can stay, but don't make it too long. i don't want you catching a cold on day one. and ruin my vibes."

"don't worry," seonghwa smiles, assuring her that he will obey.

he feels his muscles tighten, a familiar sweet pain forming and telling him that tomorrow will be hell for his body. he hasn't been active for a while, and a little swimming won't kill him. just make him unable to move. and so seonghwa swims, to the boats, to the shore, and towards the bungalows. he lays on his back, absorbing the sun rays and letting his brain roam. they go back to you every time, and it's starting to annoy him. why can't he accept that he can't have you? he must be just way too worked up. surely, he'd fuck anyone if given the chance. he can't possibly have these thoughts only about you. you're his sister's best friend, for fuck's sake. and, you're older than him, which makes it impossible in his head. how could he possibly please you, when he had the least experience in the group? he has only ever done sexual things with his first girlfriend, and since the breakup, he hasn't had any encounters with anyone else. what could he know about pleasing you? maybe you liked it rough? he only knew slow and romantic. though, he is willing to try, for you. did you like it messy and sloppy? or clean and organised? maybe you liked foreplay more.

"seonghwa!"

he opens his eyes, looking the way the voice is travelling. hongjoong is calling him, and just like that, he has to put his brain on hold. he cannot think about you. he mustn't.

"be right there!"

dinner came and went, with the young men ordering simple for day one and eating in the bungalows. you, on the other hand, have ordered the most complicated meal you could, and were now humming with each bite.

"this is better than dick." the woman next to you speaks, mimicking your reactions when eating.

"depends, whose."

"let's say, like, jeffrey dean morgan's."

your jaw drops, offended, "how dare you?"

"fine. mads mikkelsen?"

you nod approvingly. she's not right either way, but how could you possibly know? you haven't tried neither of the two. sadly.

"i need to talk to you." the tone is suddenly low, and the atmosphere is no longer relaxed.

you can feel the tension in the air. she leaves the plate, then turns to sit across from you so she can look at you while speaking.

"yes?" you ask, mimicking her actions.

"seonghwa."

fuck, did she realise what was going on with you? was she going to tell you to stay away from him? was she going to threaten you?

"what about him?" you act stupid, innocently looking into your friend's eyes while the most sinful thoughts roam your head.

"he's a little, like, awkward and antisocial. he gets nervous around pretty girls, and, well, you're one hell of a pretty woman. maybe you could strike up a conversation with him? just to let him know that you're a normal person and he can behave normally around you. without all formal labeling and all that crazy shit he has been doing since he saw you. i mean, noona? seriously?"

that you did not expect. her to encourage you to talk to park seonghwa. you hold back a smile. being too enthusiastic won't look good, and will only make her more suspicious.

"i'll try, sure. but i won't force him into anything."

and you meant it. you won't force him into anything, if you decide to make a move at all. any sign of discomfort, you'll back away. you don't need that. and neither does he.

it isn't long until you have to wake up early, get ready and follow your friend. her part of the vacation was to take canoes and swim towards a little nearby island a few minutes away. good booze and hot guys, she said. so you go, all dolled up in your black bikini that ties up around your waist, and a black lace kimono draped over your shoulders. the young men trail behind you, and you can't help but imagine seonghwa sneakily glancing at your figure. doesn't hurt anyone to daydream.

"here we are. five teeny weeny canoes, two people per one." the woman points towards the famous clear canoes, the ones that allow you to see what you're rowing over. "mingi, come on."

"me?" the man stutters, but doesn't question it any longer when she grabs his wrist and pulls him in the water.

they all hop inside, leaving seonghwa and you still in the sand. the water splashes your legs, refreshing waterbeads inviting, along with the scorching sun. it finally smells like proper summer.

"noona, i think i'm feeling unwell again." he tries, already turning around.

without thinking, you grab his arm, your nails subconsciously digging into his sun kissed skin. he turns around, eyes wide. like a deer on a highway looking at the car in front of it, he stands and waits for something to happen.

"you're not going anywhere. come on, now. hop inside."

seonghwa gulps, his skin burning where your fingers touch him. the sight of your bright summer nails digging into his skin awoke a volcano inside of him, lust spreading in his body slowly and burning, like magma waiting to erupt. you put so little effort, yet you had him harder than he has ever been. he wonders if you'd dig your nails like that when he eats you out. seonghwa is weak just thinking about it; you sprawled out just for him to feast on. his cheeks are already flushed, and he begs heavens to help him erase those thoughts. but how can he get rid of them, when you stand there in front of him, in all your glory? he watches you climb into the little boat, and he has no other choice but to join you. he sits behind you, letting you take control of the rowing and only holding his paddles.

"so, tell me what you've been up to all these years I haven't seen you."

"well, I haven't been up to much. lots of studying, a little less absences, almost perfect grades. it's going fine."

he hears you hum, and he wonders what else you will question him. whatever it is, he must impress you.

"no girls?"

so much for impressing you.

"no," he mumbles, shyly dropping his head, "i'm not that desired."

his breath hitches when you throw your head back so you can look at him, position somehow a huge turn on. "not that desired?"

"y-yeah, I mean," he scratches his neck, avoiding eyecontact, "none of them ever showed interest. I had, like, one girlfriend, and that went horribly."

you hum again, then get back to rowing and following the rest of the group. he now follows your movements, silently moving in sync and definitely not looking at your ass.

"why? if I may know." you push, desperate to know how no girl could want someone like him.

"I guess I'm just a pretty face. she wasn't satisfied with, well, anything. not with the way I communicated, not with the way I ate, sat, studied, even breathed."

he opens up like a book in your hands, ranting about all the times she was angry with him for the most ridiculous reasons, and was at one point just searching for ways to make him leave her so she wouldn't feel guilty. so that's what seonghwa did, with his heart shattered by his first love, who he thought would be his last too. he was the bad guy, yet he didn't do anything wrong.

"oh, can she complain. is there anything that didn't bother her?"

instantly, seonghwa's cheeks go red, and he stutters. you stop rowing, turning your head to look at him over your shoulder.

"seonghwa?"

"well, she always said I, uh," he stops, thinking about whether to tell you, "it's stupid."

you scoff, not believing anything he has to say is stupid. with great difficulties and lots of slipping, you try to turn around towards him, so you can look at him while you talk. your eyes widen with horror when your leg slips on the wet inside of the canoe, hands desperately reaching out for anything for support. you weren't ready for a swim yet.

just in time, the young man reaches forwards, firmly planting his hands on your waist and stabilising your figure. his cheeks are a deep crimson, eyes wide with realisation at the way he's touching you. you don't move, suddenly too aware of your surroundings and the man in front of you.

"she said I had skilled hands," he whispers, subconsciously rubbing his thumb against your skin.

it pains you that you can't just lean in and kiss him right there. if only it were that simple.

"like- like massages, right?" you offer him a way out, gently removing his hands. "and, well, catching things."

"yeah," he laughs, awkwardly looking at the water surrounding you.

"in that case, I could use that little skill of yours."

seonghwa goes red again, and you fight the urge to laugh. he is crumbling in front of you, so small and gentle despite his figure being much bigger than yours. you don't remember ever having this feeling of the upper hand. it is new, and it's setting your whole body on fire. your fingers yearn to move that strand of hair that has fallen over his pretty eyes.

"I could use a massage."

and with a wink, you start rowing again, this time staying in the other position and facing him.

the day is loud and quick. wooyoung is tipsy, hongjoong has embarrassed himself three times already, and san is almost desperate for the waitress that had the thinnest waist you've ever seen in your life. right away, your appetite is gone. your gaze drops down to your body, suddenly feeling heavy and stuffed. everyone is already at their second plate from the buffet, and you're still playing with the one from an hour ago.

"noona?"

when you don't respond, because you know just what they will tell you, you feel a soft touch under the table on your ankle. you raise your head, ready to scold wooyoung for inappropriate touching. but then you see seonghwa's worried gaze, eyes big and shiny as he looks at you, then your plate. nobody else is paying attention, half of them having stood up to do karaoke and make complete fools out of themselves.

"is it not tasty? do you want to exchange plates?"

you look at his plate filled with fruit, and it looks much more acceptable than your grease filled plate. just what were you thinking?

"I'll just try something..." you reach towards it, stabbing into a mango,"...if i may?"

he smiles, his eyes somehow prettier when he does so. you are mesmerized, and you feel like you've been staring at him for hours. you wouldn't mind doing so, when he is a walking sculpture.

"of course you may, noona. that is why i offered."

"you know, you don't have to call me noona. you can call me by my name."

"i'm not sure i can do that."

"sure you can. try it."

he stuffs his mouth with fruit, pointing towards it as an excuse for not speaking. you laugh, watching him cutely chew and wiggle his legs under the table in the process.

"cute," you say, getting up to empty your plate.

you don't miss the way he stops eating for a while, ears and cheeks a matching red with the strawberries on his plate.

it is past midnight when you hear water splashing, and taking the nosiness from your parents, you have to get up and see what is going on. you stand at the edge of the opened glass doors, scanning the night view. the sky is clear, and no light pollution allows you to see millions of shiny dots sprinkled on it. one particular shiny dot reminds you of the way his eyes sparkle, and you catch yourself just in time before diving further into the thoughts. you've spent too much time thinking of him, and it's not doing any good to you. not when everything is starting to remind you of him.

your gaze drops on the figure in the water, and you curse under your breath. still, it's a hot night, and a perfect opportunity for you to relax without the group swarming around you like usual. it doesn't take long to change into a bikini, careful not to wake up your sleeping roommate. but even if she knew, she was the one who asked you to talk to him. so that's what you'll do. talk.

you sit in shallow water, and watch the moonlight caress his skin. he swims, back and forth, disappears under the water once in a while. then, when he comes back to the surface, he throws his head back, runs his fingers through his hair and rubs his eyes from ocean salt. whatever is clouding his mind, he could really use a conversation.

just when you want to step into the water and join him, he turns his head, eyes locking with yours. he dives in again, this time staying there longer. but after yesterday, you trust him. he doesn't need you panicking when he was simply searching for a calm swim.

even though he did it once already, when he resurfaces right in front of you, repeating the hair motion you so intensely watched, not once breaking eye-contact, you can't help but shamelessly stare.

"seonghwa," you greet, lips curving upwards and mimicking his smile.

"noona," he says, not moving a muscle.

his hands are firmly pressed in the sand, holding his body so that he is hovering in the water. you have your knees pressed to your chest, the beach lace cardigan loosely hanging off your shoulders.

"what's on your mind?" you ask.

your chin rests on your knees, hands hugging your legs as you examine his facial expressions. the young man sighs, and the smile fades away. he drops his head, thinking of ways to lie to your face.

"seonghwa," you call.

when he doesn't respond, you place your hand under his chin, gently lifting it so that he can look at you. he is surprised at the sudden contact, not hiding it in the slightest. big irises match the starry sky, an endless sparkle and mystery.

"talk to me, love."

and just how was he supposed to tell you he went for a cold swim to calm his erection? it has been difficult for two days now, and he can't take care of himself. not with so many people around him. not with you right near him.

"is it the girls talk?"

"no, no, of course not." he quickly denies, trying to move away from you.

"stay there," you ask, your other hand firmly placed on his bare shoulder. "i quite like this position."

you indeed like it; him laying in front of you, looking at you from below, and you having him right there in your hand, completely vulnerable.

"now, tell me. is it the girls talk on the canoe?"

"maybe."

"maybe?" you raise an eyebrow, thumb subconsciously rubbing his jawline.

"i don't know how to please a girl," he blurts out. "i guess my hopes were too high for this trip."

"don't be silly, sure you do."

he snorts, tearing his gaze away. "you wouldn't understand."

"why is that?"

"you're telling me that a girl would enjoy an inexperienced man? imagine me taking one home, just for her to find out i can't even put it in."

you bite the inside of your cheek. you think, for what seems like an hour. he lays there, water caressing his bare torso, eyes looking up at you for further comfort. you cup his cheeks, your brain coming to a stop and letting your heart gain control.

"noona?" he stutters, eyes dropping down on your lips.

"there's more to it than just putting it in, seonghwa."

he is a blabbering mess, defending himself and saying that he knows, it was just a saying. you let him speak, watching his plump lips move as he struggles to put a sentence together. your intense gaze isn't helping his messy state at all, and he decides to simply give up. he drops his head again, a sigh escaping his lips.

"tell me, would you waste your time with someone who can't even kiss?"

"if i'm a little fond of that person, yes."

he looks up at you, expression unreadable. his silence gives you encouragement, and you lean back and slowly peel your legs open. you feel feverish, watching his parted lips and gaze fixed on your body. the night is calm, water climbing up and down the shore, caressing seonghwa's toned back. you would be lying if you said that the simple touch on his shoulder didn't make you all worked up. he was warm, firm, inviting to bite and scratch. his eyes follow up your body, and stop at your bikini top. the lace slides down your arms, pooling in the sand and giving him a free view.

"come closer," you whisper.

when he fails to move, your hand raises his head once again so he can look into your eyes.

"you need to touch,"

your hand grabs his wrist, pulling it out of the water and placing it on your hip.

"you need to get close,"

you tug at his bicep, inviting him out of the water and closer to you.

"you need to feel,"

you drag his hand up your leg, over the edge of your briefs, and place it on your side. he comes out of the water, hovering over you and holding his body up with his free hand. slowly, you lay back into the sand, giving him space so he can comfortably lay over you.

"you need to want it."

"i want it," he whispers into your lips, holding himself back.

"then come and get it."

a groan leaves his mouth, and he is eager to grab your waist with both of his hands. his wet skin against your dry one makes you shiver, cold water drops rolling from his body onto yours. his plush lips press into yours, gently taking in your bottom lip and giving it a soft caress with his tongue. he repeats it, giving sweet kisses and equal attention to both lips. his fingers dig into your waist, the nervous feeling spreading over his body and making it painfully obvious. you place your arms around his neck, fingers creeping into his wet hair and giving his scalp a gentle scratch. you swipe your tongue over his bottom lip, tasting salty water. he pulls away, face flushed and lips plump.

"feel me up, seonghwa," you drag the tips of your fingers and nails down his arms, down to his lower back, and back up to his shoulders, "like this."

he shivers at the sensation, and without a single further touch yet, he is already growing hard thinking of ways he could feel you.

"don't think too much."

peeling himself off of you, he kneels between your spread legs. your eyes close, you know you can trust him. a sigh of sensation leaves your lips, feeling his hands almost hovering over your sides, stomach, and down your legs. he makes his way back up, feeling every inch you had to offer him.

"want to add another pair of panties to your little collection?" you tease, a smirk dancing on your lips.

"w-what?" he stutters, his hands stopping at your hips.

"you think i wouldn't notice i'm missing one of my favorite panties?"

you hear no response. you eyes peel open, lazily looking into his scared ones. it is so adorable how new he is to all of this, and so hot that you get to teach him about it. you have him on his knees, quite literally, and it feels like you've been given a puppy for training. and you just can't wait.

"you can keep them, don't worry. i'll get rid of these too." you raise an eyebrow, and place his hand on the waistband. "soon, i hope."

he doesn't move. his cheeks are flaming, and the tips of his ears even worse. he looks lost. a whole feast in front of him, and yet he doesn't know where or when to start.

"there are too many clothes in the way, don't you think?" you help him out, reaching behind to pull at the string that is holding your bikini top.

you drag his hand up your body, resting it on the crease between your breasts. he gulps, loud. it makes you chuckle, and makes him look away.

"seonghwa," you call.

"yes?"

"you don't want it."

"i do—"

not so gently anymore, you grab his jaw, tilting his head back towards you and pulling him close. he shivers at your nails digging into his cheeks, and to say that he wasn't drowning in lust from your stern look and tone would be the lie of the century.

"then fucking take it."

his hands cup your breasts, exploring the softness and size of them. he massages them, watching your face and searching for a sign that he is doing it right. but you only lay down, eyes closed, not a single sound leaving your pretty lips.

he pulls at the bikini triangles, exposing your chest to the warm night and himself. he cups them again, this time thumbs rolling your nipples. you merely hum, and look at him through half closed eyelids. he has gotten closer, eyes examining your sensitive buds and the way his fingers played with them.

"tongue, baby," you say, holding back moans. "nipples are sometimes more sensitive than the clit, and you have to— oh, yes, just like that."

seonghwa is good at listening, that you are familiar with. he drags his wet muscle over your tense bud, then again, and again. he takes care of you with soft kitten licks, occasionally taking the bud between his lips and gently sucking.

"look at me."

his eyes lock with yours, hazy with lust. you watch as he rolls your nipples between his lips and fingers, sending gentle waves of pleasure through your body. he moves to the other one, giving it equal attention. your hips subconsciously buck into his knee, searching for friction. he pulls away, letting his fingers work. he slowly touches you, teases your sensitive area as slow as he can. he enjoys taking it slow, that you've noticed. you wish you could orgasm from just nipple teasing, but it isn't that easy.

"am i doing it right?" he asks, massaging you as he pinches your buds with his fingers.

"of course, baby."

"i'm not getting any reactions from you," he frowns, hands dropping back on your waist.

"well, we have just started. you need to work me up, give me a little attention before the real thing."

"real thing?" he stutters. "we are having sex tonight?"

"not tonight." you assure him, and almost laugh when you see him sigh with relief. "keep going."

he follows your instructions, dragging his hands to your waist and hooking his fingers into the waistband.

"you have to feel first."

he stops to do exactly what you have told him. his fingers dip between your legs, and press into your warm crotch. due to the thin material, he can feel your bottom lips through the panties. it makes him bite his lip to keep him from groaning. he slides his fingers up and down, hoping to get a noise or two from you. when he doesn't, he lowers his body so that he is hovering over your crotch. he moves the panties aside, immediately tasting you and catching you off guard. your hand reaches towards his hair, fingers grabbing at the strands as he rolled your bud between his lips. his tongue teases the tip of the clit, spinning it in circles and making your hips buck into his lips.

"press a little harder, baby," you encourage, pushing his head into your skin.

when he delivers a particularly strong lick, followed by a suck, you moan. your thighs close around his face, and when his arms grab them and force you to spread your legs for him, you lose it. you are a moaning mess, his dominant side coming out of him without him even noticing. you want him to be rough with you, to snap his hips into yours hard, to mercilessly overstimulate you, to kiss you while he stuffs you with his cock.

something about watching him give your clit slow kitten licks is throwing you into a whole different world. he has his hand placed on your lower stomach, tugging at the skin so that he can reach your clit better. placing his fingers on your soaking folds, he looks up at you, finally satisfied with the results.

he rubs you in circles, slow, then fast, then licks you a few more times. he tugs your clit between his lips, tongue swirling around it and fingers spreading your folds as he does so. nobody has ever eaten you out with such passion, and seeing him make out with your bottom lips only makes you want to take him into your mouth until he is begging you to stop.

your orgasm announces its arrival, pooling at the bottom of your stomach and waiting to erupt.

"seonghwa," you gasp.

he hums, eyes still locked with yours. you yank at his hair, trying to pull his head away from you before you can cum on his tongue. but he is much stronger than you, and much more stubborn than you. another gasp leaves your mouth, and your arms find themselves planted in the sand, your wrists firmly trapped in his hands. your legs are clenching around his head, and after a few minutes of making it difficult for him, he presses his knee against your thigh. you are trapped under his firm grip, your most sensitive spots completely at the mercy of his soft lips and hot tongue.

"seonghwa—" you choke out, orgasm swallowing your body and lifting it up from the sand.

you shake in his hands, body working on the waves of pleasure ripping through your figure and blinding your vision. you don't even notice that your hands are now free, and his are pressed on your thighs again. he is doing his best to help you ride it out, generously giving your folds soft kisses and an occasional graze with his tongue. he admires your face from below, taking in every reaction you have to offer him. your body shakes in his hands, aftershocks of pleasure still very much active. your shallow breathing and quiet gasps fill his ears, and his brain makes sure to remember this picture of you forever.

he doesn't know whether you're faking it or he really did it, but he knows for sure that the way your wet hole clenches around nothing is making his cock twitch in his pants. he isn't far from cumming; one stroke from you and he would be done. and humiliated.

you look down, finally capable of forming a sentence other than "fuck" and "oh shit". seonghwa plants a final kiss on your lower stomach, then proceeds to press his body above you one more time.

"did i do good?" he asks, worry taking over his features.

"no."

his eyes widen, and his cheeks become a deep crimson which you can see even in the dark. something snaps inside of you, seeing his vulnerable and innocent state. originally, you wanted to tell him that he did better than good. but to have the upper hand and break him little by little, until he snaps and takes you from behind and fills you up with his seed? sounds way more inviting. how mean.

"it was okay," you caress his cheek, eyes roaming his pretty face, "but a woman needs more than just an orgasm."

"i rushed." he realizes.

"you rushed." you confirm, then push him off of you.

he almost whines at the loss of contact, but he has embarrassed himself enough for one night. he was so eager to make you moan and cum on his tongue, that he didn't think further. what if he has blown the single chance he had to impress you? what if you had hopes for him, but he let you down, and now you don't wish to try anything with him anymore?

the words are stuck in his throat, refusing to leave. he wants to say so much, but afraid that he might ruin this little dignity he has, he settles for watching you stand up and get dressed. the lace cardigan slides on your body just right, hiding your curves and only exposing your chest. he wonders how you can just stand up and move on, like you didn't shake in his hands just minutes ago.

"was this just a lesson for me?" his voice almost cracks behind you. "like, a one time thing?"

when you only spare him a glance over your shoulder, then start walking back to the bungalows, he falls into the sand. he spreads his arms and legs, imitating a starfish, and helplessly looks at the night sky. one chance, and he blew it. it isn't his fault you caught him off guard. he wasn't ready. he swears he could do so much more, if only you would've let him one more time. he curses himself for being impatient, and more stubborn than obedient. though, he is always obedient when it comes to you, his stubborn side had to find a way to make an appearance tonight.

his head falls to the side, eyes following your figure as you walk away from the shore. he is tired, from thinking more than swimming or, well, pleasuring you. though the latter didn't take long.

"fucking idiot."

another day passes, spent in the town center exploring street food and sweets. you buy souvenirs, all sorts of them. even the overpriced little magnets. you must have them all. the boys are filming everything, from the making of the ice cones to your face devouring it. you ride rented motorcycles, wooyoung holding onto your waist and screaming into your ear whenever you speed up. your friend catches up soon, holding onto her brother whose gaze only focused on the road in front of him.

the rest trail behind, ice cones in their mouth and tongues stuck out proud and green from the kiwi flavor. the whole time you've spent together, seonghwa stays aside, avoiding you at all costs. it is only when they go separate ways that he spares you a glance, much like you did to him last night. only his eyes are big and yearning, but yours were cold and uninviting.

you bite your cheek, watching as he licks the ice cone the boys have gotten for him. he isn't aware of his sensual way of eating it, and you hope his sister isn't aware of you staring at it.

you shop until you collapse, your bed suddenly the most comfortable place on Earth. you aren't sure how you'll fit all the items in the suitcase, but you'll leave the worrying part for the last day.

you now stand in front of the mirror, putting the clip in your hair and thinking whether or not you're satisfied with your appearance. even if you weren't, there was no time to change anything. you just had to obey your impatient friend.

eager to get drunk and laid, she orders shots, finishing four by the time you've only done one. she is tipsy and leaning into you, trying to tell you something over the loud club music. you laugh, hoping that she didn't ask a question. you simply don't have the energy to figure out what she is trying to say.

the boys are scattered on the dance floor, mainly making fools out of themselves and each other, trying to get most of this vacation. girls look at them, more with interest than worry because of their behaviour. you spot four familiar heads on the dance floor, and three are sitting on the couch with the two of you. the eighth one is missing.

"where's seonghwa?" you ask, trying to look and sound as careless as possible.

"we made him go to the bar." says san.

"yeah, he seriously needs to get laid."

the boys laugh at hongjoong's words, and even your friend giggles. but you don't find anything funny in that. your eyes roam the bar, in hopes to find the fluffy wavy hair and a pair of big shiny eyes. your neck hurts, raising your head every time someone gets close to the table, in hopes that it's seonghwa. but seonghwa is nowhere to be seen. until you stand up and make your way through the dance floor towards the bar.

you spot him, leaning on the bar with a drink in his hand. the girl in front of him is twirling the ends of her hair, hips swaying with the beat. your teeth sink into your cheek, keeping yourself from acting up. then, she reaches towards his hair, feeling the softness much like you did last night.

"noona!"

the voice comes from behind you, and a pair of arms touch your sides.

"wooyoung," you greet, turning around to wrap your arms around his neck.

fuck seonghwa. he's not yours. he can talk to whoever he wants to. and you're not his. so when wooyoung presses his lips against yours, you don't complain. his lips are hot against yours, and when comparing to seonghwa, much more skilled and confident. his hand grips your waist, pressing you into his firm body as he does body rolls to the beat of the music.

"fuck, noona, you're so hot." he groans into your mouth.

"am i now?" you tease, placing your hands on his and sliding them down to your ass.

"are you kidding me? with your hair in a clip like that, and your lip gloss, and your thongs sticking out of these incredibly tight jeans? i could just—"

"wooyoung."

the grip on your ass is gone, and the heated moment between you two is shattered. your eyes stare at seonghwa's side profile, watching his jaw clench as he tells wooyoung he needs you for a minute. the younger man removes his hands from your body, and then looks at you.

you don't get to protest, your wrist already in his hand and your legs following him outside.

"hey, what the fuck? let go of me!"

and he does let go. but when he does, it is by slamming you against the wooden wall of the club.

"how can you calmly kiss my friend like that after humiliating me last night?"

you take your time to admire him properly. he is wearing one of those over worn hawaiian shirts, all buttons undone and a single necklace resting on his sun kissed neck. he smells like sun protection and aftershave, and his hair is fluffier than usual.

"do you want to break me? do you want to see me at my lowest?"

"i don't know what you're talking about, seonghwa. go back inside."

"what, does he kiss better?" he bites the inside of his cheek, and his jaw clenches a lot more than usual.

"he does have more experience." you remain calm, a monotone tone leaving your lips when you speak to him. "this is all just fun. we're doing this for fun. nothing serious involved."

"then," he reaches forwards, cupping your face," let me fuck you. for fun."

"what? no."

you push him away once again, and start walking away. he gets deja vu, but this time, he speaks up.

"why? you were just seconds away from sitting on wooyoung's cock. why is it a problem when it's me?"

you turn around, still walking backwards towards the entrance. he is almost drunk, and surely doesn't know what he is saying.

"you're just not that type."

"not that type?"

"you know. you're soft. you don't fuck. you make love."

and you can't make love right now. you want him to break you, fuck you in positions that have you helpless and gripping at his built body, to make you beg for mercy as he drives you to your fifth orgasm.

and there he is, again, standing alone, helpless and horny. his legs carry him inside again, to the bar, and back to the girl he wasn't even interested in. he leans in, mimicking wooyoung's moves he did on you. when the girl moans in his mouth, it gives him a boost of confidence. he just hopes you sit there somewhere, watching this unfold.

"fuck, wanna take this outside?" she gasps, hips rolling into his.

seonghwa doesn't need to be told twice. he is thrown on one of the beach chairs, the girl already on her knees in front of him. he breathes heavily, heart beating so hard he swears it could jump out any moment. the alcohol in his veins made it impossible for him to be uncomfortable from the company around him. they didn't even flinch. situations like these are a regular occurrence for them.

"oh, shit, you're huge."

his cheeks burn at the compliment. the first few licks make seonghwa twitch in his sleep, but by the time she has him in his mouth, he is passed out. he was at the verge when he pressed you against that wall, and if he had just drunk two shots less, he would've proved that he can do better than you think.

in the morning, he finds himself wrapped in clean white sheets. he blinks slowly, his eyes getting used to the strong light.

the surroundings are unfamiliar, and for a second, he fears that he might've slept with the girl from last night. but when he sees your almost bare figure in front of him, back turned and hair falling over your shoulders, he silently gasps. that can't be true. he didn't sleep with you. did he?

he checks under the cover, and becomes even more confused when he sees he is fully dressed.

"i didn't sleep with you, seonghwa." you answer before he manages to put a sentence together.

"she did sleep with me, however."

"wooyoung." you warn.

seonghwa sits up on the bed, and looks around the room. wooyoung is also sitting on the bed. your bed. seonghwa sighs, feeling his heart tighten. he looks at you through the mirror, where you stood to fix your bikini. you catch him staring, and your lips twitch into a smirk when seeing his flustered expression.

"headache?"

"what am i doing here if we didn't sleep together?" he asks, the alcohol in him still a little active.

"first, you were passed out with a girl all over you, so i brought you to my bed since your sister spent the night with some guy anyway. second, i would never sleep with a drunk guy. at least not that drunk."

"can't believe you fell asleep mid blow job." wooyoung teases, glancing at his older friend.

"well, if it was any good, i doubt he would've fallen asleep." you come to rescue, deciding that he has suffered enough teasing for the morning. "right?"

"right," seonghwa agrees, scratching his neck.

"luckily, that's not the case with you, noona."

"wooyoung, get out."

"of course, baby."

seonghwa is now alone with you, eyes still trailing up your body. somehow, even though his friend had you before him, he still wants you just as bad as the day before.

"he's bluffing, don't listen to him."

"is he, though?"

you sigh. you did have fun with wooyoung last night, but it didn't go to the point of having sex. even though it was very hard to keep your hands off him. he is passionate, and rough, just how you like it.

"go get dressed, seonghwa. we are leaving soon."

"why won't you fool around with me, just like you did with him?"

his words make you sigh again. you leave your lip-gloss on the dresser, then sit on the bed.

"you don't ask. you just start it, then see where it gets you. i gave you the green light for that. but i told you last night, and i'll tell you again. i realize you're just not the type. you're too soft for me."

"then teach me."

at this point, he has no regrets and refuses to be embarrassed. he wants wooyoung's confidence, his passion for sexual activities, and his charm. all he has is a figure, which is not enough to satisfy you.

"teach you?"

"yes."

"you're out of your mind, seonghwa."

you have him right where you wanted him. right in your hand, like a marionette. you decide his moves, and he obeys, like the cute little doll he is.

"noona," he whispers, desperation dripping from his lips like sweetest honey, "please."

your fingers reach towards the loose strands of hair falling over his glossy eyes. neatly tucking them behind his ear, you bring his face close to yours.

"this time," your lips brush against his as you speak, "listen to what i say. if i say stop, you stop. got it?"

"got it." he nods.

"good."

as slow and soft as possible, you press your lips into his. he exhales, relaxing further into your hands. you are one step away from pushing him back on the bed, and all it takes is just a touch from him. ironically, as if he hears you, he rests his hands on your waist, and you don't resist anymore. you push him on the mattress, laying flat against his warm body.

"your boobs are soft." he comments, noticing the way they are pressed against his chest.

"aw, thanks, bub."

so easy to make him blush. he kisses you this time, tongue hungrily searching for yours. he hums when you finally give in, allowing him to take in the taste of you.

"hey, anyone seen my brother? did he come back last night?"

you pull away, jumping to the other side of the room to buy yourself time to fix your hair and put on a beach kimono, back turned towards him. you glance at seonghwa over your shoulder, and it is enough to make your heart flutter. he is flustered, eyes shiny and big as he panics while his sister's voice is becoming louder and louder. his lips shine from your lip gloss, and his hair is a fluffy mess. oh, you want to have him squirming and milking in your hands.

"ah, there you are! i've- woah, what happened here?"

"not what it looks like-" seonghwa stutters, but you are quick to interrupt.

"he is feeling a bit feverish from last night. he fell asleep in sweaty clothes with the window open."

too hung over to think, she waves it off, turning towards her suitcase in a search for a bikini for today's adventure. you hear seonghwa exhale, and you turn around to wink at him. he seems calmer, seeing how relaxed you are.

"seonghwa, now that you're feeling better, you want to go and get ready?"

"huh? oh, yes. yes, of course."

you watch him as he tries his best to hide the bulge in his pants, eyes full of panic as he walks away hoping his sister doesn't turn around.

"see you, honey."

"see you, noona."

he leaves the room, and you see him through the window picking up his pace and running into his own. you can't help the smile that creeps onto your face, watching his messy hair bounce, and his hand wipe off the lip gloss from his lips.

"what an idiot." his sister comments, sitting on the bed and carelessly taking off her top and bra.

"aw, come on. he's being such a good boy, why are you calling him that?"

"noona? seriously? he is a piece of shit to me, and he is so nice to you. that asshole."

"he's cute, let him be."

she makes a mocking face your way, then starts to get dressed.

the day is hotter than ever. you are laying in the shades of nature, yet you are sweating so bad that you might actually get into water. you don't feel like it today. you just want to lay down on the fancy beach chair, hiding under your big sun hat, and daydream. about seonghwa.

"you know, i met a guy last night, and let me tell you! his friend is drop dead gorgeous. i told him about you."

you scoff, but don't give any other reaction. you know where she is going with that.

"what? not interested?" she questions.

you laugh, taking the hat from your face and placing it properly on your head. you glance over at the boys, who sat down just beneath you on the bright shark towels. seonghwa is busy squeezing his hair, and doesn't yet realize that you are shamelessly staring at him.

"not really, no," you finally answer, tone disinterested and distant.

"wasn't your plan to have a one night stand of your lifetime on this vacation?"

that seems to pick up seonghwa's attention. he sits down, acting unbothered as he opens his bag of candied almonds. his side eye is very obvious to you though, and his cuteness only increases when you notice small things like that.

"that still stands."

"well?"

"well, i think i already have my eye on someone. someone... younger."

"oh?"

the young man turns his head slightly, just enough to look at you without his sister noticing. you wink at him, and when he blushes, you can't help but smile proudly. you've never had a man behave so giddy because of you, and you are living for it.

"who's the lucky guy?"

"i'm not too sure if he's interested in me yet."

seonghwa turns towards you in disbelief, as if trying to ask you how you could think such a thing. but seeing the playful glint in your eyes, he relaxes.

"can i have one?" you ask, pointing at the candied almonds.

"sure," he mutters, turning the bag towards you.

you wink at him again, before opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out a little. his cheeks are the usual red, eyes wide and frantically looking over at his sister and friends. but none of them really pay attention. even if they do, the sight would simply seem playful to them. after all, they do not know about your secret little interactions.

he carefully aims the single almond towards your mouth, and when you so flawlessly catch it, you could've sworn that his jaw had dropped just a little. he is feeding your ego, and he won't regret it.

"good boy," you mouth, hoping he would catch it.

he does, his eyes wide in shock. you love getting reactions from him.

time is slow, the boys having lost interest in the sea and opting to play games and bickering on the towels. the sun is still high up in the sky, not yet ready to end the day. you cannot stop ogling at seonghwa, who is currently trying to doze off but is constantly bugged by something.

"what is it, ddeong?"

ddeong? that's very cute.

"my head really hurts. i wanted to take a nap but it's pounding so bad." he complains, rubbing his temple.

"guess it's your lucky day, because my bestie here gives the best scalp massages."

oh, right. you do. that's so clever, and she doesn't even know it.

"yeah, why don't you come over and i'll show you?" you ask, as innocently as you can.

glancing over at wooyoung and seeing his smirk, you know he knows. the dipshit knows everything. but he isn't the type to rat you out. you hope.

seonghwa stands up, cluelessly looking at you and trying to figure out how to do this.

"sit down, silly." you pat the space in the sand between your legs.

he finally sits, slowly resting his back on the edge of the beach chair and closing his eyes. there, you have him right between your legs, in your hands. not the way you want, but you can still work your magic. his hair is soft between your fingers, and you swear you've never felt such hair on a man before. seonghwa is very neat, that you've noticed. not like all those men that you've dated. it feels nice to have someone so clean and pretty in your hands.

he sighs as you put pressure on his scalp, nails softly grazing him. he is having the time of his life, and you can't help but smile when he lets his head fall back, resting on the chair between your thighs. so close to your already leaking cunt. wonder if he can feel it.

"feeling better?" you ask, seeing that he isn't doing anything aside from breathing.

he doesn't answer. you continue your motions, watching his features carefully. he has the prettiest pink lips, and the most perfect eyebrows. he is just so... fresh. and young.

"seonghwa?" you call again.

no answer. you tug at a strand of hair gently, jolting him awake. what you didn't expect was the whine that escaped his lips, and you find yourself trying to squeeze your thighs together. he realizes his mistake, and looks at you with horror.

"y-yes?" he stutters.

"uh, i just-"

you are at a loss for words. he is so unintentionally submissive, it is driving you crazy.

"i think i'll go in the water."

and just like that, he grabs a floatie you had brought and almost runs to the water. your eyes follow his poor attempts at climbing the armchair shaped floatie, his hands continuously slipping from the water and slippery surface. he tries a few more times, until he almost gets it, but ends up falling back into the water and flipping the floatie upside down.

"god, what an idiot." his sister scoffs, putting on her sunglasses and hiding under her book.

"aw, stop. i'm gonna go help him." you laugh fondly, eager to get alone time with him.

"don't waste your time. jesus, look at him. i can't take it, please poke my eyes out."

you also wish to poke your eyes out. seonghwa is surrounded by three or four girls, all of them making sure he's okay, laughing and being all touchy with him. you're not liking that. you're not liking the way their nails are grazing his arms, while he is still processing what is going on around him. he is clueless, and only awkwardly smiles with them. for a split second, his eyes land on you, as if asking for help. but then he looks away, back to the girls, and relaxes. his mouth moves, and the girls go into a laughing fit. just what is he doing? he isn't that funny.

"huh. how about that. my brother can rizz up girls?"

"no offence, but nobody uses that word anymore." wooyoung chips in, and earns himself a smack on the back of his head.

"shut up. seriously though, look at him. and four at once? wait, where are you going?"

you almost throw the hat and kimono at your friend, and fix your hair. hell no.

"hey? i thought you aren't getting into the water today! why is everyone so weird today?" her voice is becoming distant, and the ones in front of you are getting louder.

ha-ha, so funny. you are dying to know just what it is that have them drooling over him and forcing their laugh.

"hwa?" you call, lowering your sunglasses just enough so he can look into your eyes.

"uh, yes?" he answers, completely smitten.

oh, yes.

if someone were to film you, the scene would really look like one from a movie where the rich older woman is seducing her pool boy, all while her husband is working up in his bedroom. and you like it. you adjust your bikini top, accidentally pushing your boobs together, and finally get into the water.

the girls have their eyebrows raised at you, and seonghwa only gulps. it's as if he knows he did something that is bothering you. behind the playful smirk you are giving him, he sees the mischievous glint in your eyes. he knows he fucked up big time.

"having trouble with your floatie?"

"well, yeah, kinda. i got water in my ear and eyes."

"aw, you poor thing. let me see."

you cup his cheeks, swiping your thumbs over his closed eyes. the girls are scoffing, murmuring, and you would've felt very self conscious before. but this trip and seonghwa have fueled your confidence, and you are not scared of a pair of younger girls that know nothing more than to act dumb in front of him.

"feeling better?"

"yeah, real better. excellent in fact." he is a blubbering mess, looking between you and the girls.

"wanna get on the floatie with me?"

"yes."

"come on, then. say bye to your friends."

you swim off into deep water with the floatie, slow enough so he can catch up to you. you turn the floatie so that the backrest is turned towards the shore, and you are looking into the islands far away.

"go on, get on it."

"uh, i couldn't get on it in the shallow water. what makes you think-"

"seonghwa. get on the floatie."

he struggles again, wet hands slipping against the surface, now worse because you are right there, watching him. he finally climbs up, throwing his head back and exhaling.

"god, this was worse than the runs i do in the mornings back home."

he sits silent, eyes closed and sun bathing. when he hears nothing from you, he opens one eye, silently questioning why you aren't joining him. i mean, you came for that, didn't you?

"your headache still bothering you?"

"your massage helped, i did doze off for a while. until you started pulling my hair. which, by the way, what was that about?"

"it's going to sound stupid, but you seemed a bit too calm. i don't know. i fear those things."

"what, you thought i was dead?" he laughs.

"shut up, paranoia isn't that fun, you know? i'm currently in deep water, actually dying from fear that a shark will appear and feast on my legs."

"then get up here with me," he offers, patting the space next to him.

"oh, i'm fine right here." you place your hands on his knees, putting your body between his thighs.

"wh-what are you-"

"i'm gonna need you to be quiet."

"for what?"

"hush."

"noona-"

"hush i said." you pinch his thigh, earning a whimper. "now, be a good boy and hold my hair up so i don't make a mess. yet."

he looks at you wide eyed, finally realizing what your intention is. he gulps, feeling his swim shorts become tight. there's just something about your long nails grazing his skin and you giving him your best siren eyes from between his legs that is making his blood boil.

"hwa, baby, you have to stop being so stiff."

he melts in your hands at the nickname, and melts even more when you slip your hands in his shorts and gently pull him out. he is hard, and warm, and you can't wait to get your tongue on him. his hand finally reaches for your hair, pulling it in a messy ponytail and subconsciously guiding your head towards his cock.

"so impatient. again."

"sorry," he stops his movements.

you tease him, slowly running your thumb around his tip, not yet giving him the friction he needs. he squirms in your hands, unable to relax. he isn't used to risky situations like this. hell, he isn't used to a situation like this anywhere.

"hey," you call, seeing his panicked expression. when he looks at you, you can't help but smile fondly at him, and reach to move his long strands of hair out of his eyes. "i'll let you know if things get risky, like if anyone starts approaching. trust me. alright?"

"alright," he gulps.

"good."

wasting no time, you stick out your tongue, licking a stripe from the base up to his leaking tip, and pull him between your lips. his breath hitches, and his grip in your hair tightens. seonghwa throws his head back, letting his eyes roll and small sighs leave his lips.

using the chance when he's not looking, you pull your bikini top aside, letting your breasts fall free. you take his other hand, placing it gently on your now bare breast. he squeezes it subconsciously, making you hum around his cock. he tastes warm and salty, and you enjoy taking in every inch he has to give and explore it with your tongue. you just can't wait to sit on it. hopefully soon.

"i'm gonna cum- i think-"

you pull him out, making sure to make a popping noise on purpose.

"already?" you tease, still gently stroking him.

"sorry..." he looks down at you, blush creeping up his cheeks.

"it's okay, bun. just relax this time. we'll have plenty of chances to practice your patience."

"we will?" he asks, eyes full of hope as he looks into yours full of mischief.

"honestly..." you drag off, teasing him further, "...seeing you so confused and stiff, i'm starting to think you don't even want it."

"what? no! i- i do, really. you just- have me in a rather uncomfortable place."

flashing him a smile, you cup his face with your palms and bring his face close to yours. "kiss me."

"uh-"

"seonghwa."

"yes."

"kiss. me." your face morphs from the fun expression to a serious and lustful one. "now."

and like the good boy he is, he obeys. he leans in, lips softly pressing into yours. he is still stiff in your hands, and his lips are almost trembling. as much as you think it is cute, it is starting to drive you crazy. why can't he just rip your panties off and plunge his fingers inside you right there underwater?

switching the places of the impatient one, you pull him off the floatie and into the water, hands wrapping around his neck and lips desperately chasing his. he tastes like a fruit salad, which you watched him steal from yunho before they joined you in sun bathing. the fusion of watermelon, kiwi and pineapples is melting on your tongue, and you just can't help but feel up his body and grind yourself on him like an animal in heat. he isn't too different from you, hands reaching for anything he can grab; from your waist, to your neck and face. you notice that he isn't touching any areas that you really need to be touched.

you groan, pulling away from him.

"seonghwa, you're pissing me off."

"what? why?" he pulls away, but still rests his hands on your waist, afraid that you're going to run away from him if he lets go.

"it feels like i'm forcing you to do this. you don't seem to enjoy it, at all. not the way you're supposed to. if you want me to stop, you have to tell me that. you're giving me mixed signals here, all inviting and teasing from afar, and when i finally approach you, you're so stiff and nervous. like you're waiting for me to get over with it and leave."

the young man stays silent. that isn't the case. you have no idea how it is not that case at all. seonghwa is crazy about you, from your personality, to your body. you're a full package, but you are older, more experienced. and him? he's just a young man who doesn't know a thing about pleasing a woman, other than rubbing her until eventually she cums, whether it is a minute or thirty minutes later. fun, right?

"look, here's the deal. i will leave you alone, okay?" you reach to remove his long bangs out of his face, revealing his pretty eyes staring at you with mixed emotions. "if you decide to prove me wrong, don't do it with words. come search for me, show me what you want and how you want it, and we'll go from there. sounds good?"

"but i really want you, i just-"

"no more words i said, hwa. words are nothing at this point. you want me? you're gonna have to do something about it. before somebody else does. and i really need some relief these days, i might really cave into wooyoung."

god, not wooyoung. he can't lose you to wooyoung. not because he dislikes him or something, but because he dislikes the idea of seeing you with someone else. at least seeing you, well, relieved with someone else. he's not sure what view he has on you. it is clear you only want something physical, and something limited. something tied to this vacation spot and time. does he have the heart for that? he will fall for you, he knows it. if he hasn't already.

were your eyes always this pretty in the sun? was your hair always that satisfying to touch? and was your voice always this satisfying to his ears?

days pass fast when you're having fun. you're sadly looking over at the last packed bikini, bottom lip sticking out in a pout.

"oh, cheer up! your birthday is in like two hours!"

"oh, my bad. yay! i'm getting older!" you grab the bottled cocktail off the nightstand, sipping it.

"what has gotten up your asshole these days?" your friend is persistent.

"nothing, why would you think that?"

you hear a scoff, and you just have to roll your eyes. she stays silent for a few moments, looking at you through the mirror while she is getting ready for your birthday party. you had agreed on going for a group night swim after the countdown, but you are not feeling it. you always get sad on trips, knowing that they'll end soon and that you'll have to go back to your ordinary life. if only you could live here. with seonghwa.

what?

think straight. you cannot want something like that with him. he is so young, he should find someone his age. someone who doesn't make him sad, confused and stiff all the time. the opposite of you. it hurts your heart a little, but you remind yourself that this is only a crush that will fade, a summer fling that will pass. nothing to get yourself worked up for.

"you're so fucking depressed today, jesus. it's making me feel like shit too."

"i'm just a little homesick, that's all."

"lies. but okay, suit yourself."

you finally slip on the pink sequin dress you have bought specifically for this night. the faux feathers are tickling your skin, and you just can't wait to take it off. why are the prettiest things the most uncomfortable ones?

"wow, those heels make your legs look so hot! you're so bringing a guy here tonight."

with a glance at your pink glitter heels, you sigh. you want one guy. and it doesn't even have to be for the reason she thinks. you could just lay there, talk about old times and new times. with each second passing, it is becoming more difficult to keep your thoughts away from seonghwa. why is he so damn addicting?

"right, let's go."

the club is loud and busy, you have trouble finding the group. but when you do, you are glad. you are starting to feel more comfortable with them, and not being around them makes you feel a bit empty and bored. seeing them occupy the couch again puts a smile on your face, but when you notice one face missing, your face drops.

"where's seonghwa?" you ask before thinking.

"he left to get a drink, i think. strange, it's been fifteen minutes now. the bar isn't that busy."

glancing at the bar, you realize that san is telling the truth. the bar is almost empty, and seonghwa is nowhere to be seen. wooyoung takes his chance, expanding his hand for you to take. when you do, he gently pulls you so that you fall into his lap, and you can't help but laugh.

"rude."

"come on, is there a better seat here?"

you notice mingi taking secret glances at you friend, probably thinking whether or not he should make a similar move on her.

"so, want to play a classic?" yunho offers.

"games? come on, yunnie, we came to drink!"

yunho rolls his eyes at your friend, and brings the bottle of vodka to his lips. it is almost empty, and he downs it with no problem. he sets it in the middle of the table, giving it a spin. "who says there won't be drinking?"

wooyoung's hands are suddenly loose around you, and before you can look at him and ask what's wrong, a familiar figure joins the table. he looks absolutely ravishing.

his hair is a wavy mess, his linen white shirt half unbuttoned, and pants loosely hanging on his hips, exposing his v-line. fuck, you need him. you need him so bad that you almost start grinding on wooyoung for any friction.

"what are we doing?"

"playing some old truth or dare. spin?"

"sure."

he sits next to yunho, and spins the bottle. the bottom lands on san, the tip on your friend. he smirks, and you see that he is fighting the urge to look at mingi.

"truth or-"

"dare."

"ah, should've known already. i dare you to sit on mingi's lap."

mingi blushes furiously, glaring at san. your friend only rolls her eyes, much like yunho at her, and sits on mingi. "childish ass dare. do better, i'm already bored."

"oh, we're just getting started."

the game lasts half an hour, and so far, you have: kissed yeosang's cheek, because everyone likes to see him shy, drank five consecutive shots of tequila, told them some of your kinks, and accidentally rubbed your ass on wooyoung's crotch. he snickers, hands coming to your hips to keep you steady. you are feeling tipsy, but you still know what you're doing. right now, the tip of the bottle is pointing at you, while jongho is taking his sweet time thinking of a dare to give you.

"oh, oh! i got one for you!" hongjoong exclaims.

the older man whispers something into the younger one's ear, and the smirk that appears on his face makes you a little nervous.

"well?" you ask, voice a bit shaky with a nervous smile.

"i dare you to..."

why did you choose dare? why couldn't it be truth? you wanted to be fun. there you have it.

"spit it out, jongho. she's shaking." wooyoung says, annoyed.

"i dare you to drink that cocktail and kiss seonghwa with it. you know, make him drink it from your mouth."

time seems to stop for you. your eyes widen, scanning over the group. you are ready to spill out excuses and explanations, but when you see them cheer, your eyebrows scrunch. nobody is seeing anything suspicious about this? well, nobody except three people. you glance at seonghwa, who is frozen in his seat. his whiskey glass rests in his hand halfway up to his mouth.

he sets it back on the table, mentally preparing himself for what is about to happen. you will probably decline, say you see him as a childhood friend, and pick someone else to do it with instead. but when he sees you down the glass of piña colada and get up from your seat, he feels sweat wash over his body. you'll really do it. in front of his sister. in front of wooyoung. in front of everyone.

he thinks you look cute with your lips unintentionally pouting as you hold the liquid in your mouth. a fond smile creeps on his lips just before you sit on his lap, hands wrapping around his neck and lips finally pressing into his. he takes every single drop you give him, drinking it up along with the taste of your lips and tongue. already swaying a bit from alcohol, he forgets where he is for a moment. his tongue swipes your bottom lip, collecting the remains of the drinks and biting it along the way. you give in, tongue pushing past his lips and finding his.

"woah, woah! okay!"

"guys, that's enough."

but you don't stop. not when his hands are finally touching you how you want it. how you need it. his slender fingers find their spot in the back of your head, gently pulling your hair as he desperately kisses you. you whine in his mouth, pleasant pain spreading in your body. his other hand lands on your waist, pulling you closer into him so that you can only feel his scent and his warmth. only him in a room full of people.

"shit, live porn. how about that?" wooyoung snickers, downing another tequila.

"alright, guys!"

seonghwa is the first one to pull away, hazy eyes staring deep into yours. it only takes one look from you to show him that you know what he wants, and that you want it too.

"damn. my brother and my best friend making out. didn't think i'd see that in... well, ever."

"why are you complaining? you're making out with your brother's best friend."

"yeah, but seonghwa doesn't mind, do you?"

seonghwa hates that he has to remove his gaze from you to look at his sister. "why? you mind me kissing your best friend?"

"no, no. not at all. carry on. SOMEWHERE ELSE! disgusting."

seonghwa helps you stand, not letting go of your waist.

"i'll be borrowing this." you reach for the bottle of champagne that was meant to be opened on your birthday countdown. but you found a better use of it. "see you!"

you rush out of the club, pulling seonghwa by his wrist all the way to the shore. you push him into the ocean, cold water caressing your bodies as you keep walking deeper until it reaches your chest. seonghwa is quick to continue the makeout session he has started, and you don't complain. his lips are starved of your touch, kissing you like it's his first and last.

"wait, wait."

"what?"

you give him the bottle, offering a sip. he takes a long one, not once breaking eye contact with you. when he hands it back to you, you can't help the mischievous grin that appears on your face. he looks at you with amused eyes. you pour the champagne on your neck and chest in a slow stream, not caring about pollution or wasting at this point. seonghwa takes the signal, and grabs your waist so that he can pull you closer. his tongue licks up the champagne from your neck, chest and collarbones. you are a moaning mess in his hands.

"if i would've known that all you needed was a few shots and a high schooler game, i would've done it the first day." you admit.

the wet dress sticks to your body, making it difficult to move in the water. you gasp when you feel his fingers dip between your thighs, resting on the pink bikini you've put on. with a silent approval from you, he moves the bottoms under your dress aside, middle finger slipping past your folds and thumb circling your clit. you shake under his touch, feelings too overwhelming.

"let me make love to you."

he says it so romantically, as if he isn't knuckles deep inside of you right now.

"let me show you a different way. my way."

and you give yourself to him. dragging him back to the shore, lips not once leaving his. not caring if anyone around you is watching. your dress comes off with a few difficulties, but now that you're out of it, you feel like you can breathe freely. your bikini top soon joins the dress in the sand next to you, but the chain, heels and panties stay. seonghwa spills more champagne over your exposed chest, and proceeds to lick it all up like a starved man.

"should i take off my-"

"no, please. i want to fuck you with your heels on."

"oh? that a fetish of yours?"

he blushes a little, looking down at the sparkly heels shining in the distant club lights.

"i like glitter." he simply says.

his fingers are in a rush to take your panties off, but before he can discard them along with the rest of his and your clothes, you speak. "a little warning."

"yes?"

"i can be loud."

"how loud?"

"very."

the young man looks around for a moment, as if thinking about something important. then, he simply shrugs. "okay."

before you can react, he shoves the panties in your mouth, catching you by surprise. he strokes himself a few times, too impatient for any foreplay. there was enough teasing all these days, he knows you can't take it either.

his warm cock slides between your folds with ease, your walls hugging it tightly. he groans, and you moan around the panties. his hands grip your waist, but not the rough grip. the strong, yet gentle grip. he moves his hips sensually, like waves rather than thrusts. he raises your hips a little, angling them so that he can reach better. your eyebrows scrunch with pleasure, eyes looking up at him as a plea for more.

"i know, i know. feels good, doesn't it?"

you nod, rolling your hips to match his rhythm. sand sticks to your skin, the smell of his perfume and champagne is making you feel dizzy, and the grip on your hips is only getting stronger. you haven't felt such pleasure in a long time.

the tip of his cock rubs the sensitive spot inside of you, making you whine and moan through the wet fabric.

"oh, you were just made for me, weren't you? look how good you're taking me. all of it."

your eyes roll at his dirty talk, and you promise yourself there that this won't be the last time you're hearing it.

"fuuuck..." he trails, plunging his hips into yours and touching your cervix along the way. he continues the hard but slow pumps, getting lost in the warm feeling of you. "fuck, you're so pretty for me. look at you, you fit in my hands like a perfect doll."

is that size kink coming from him? if yes, you are having so much fun finding out about him in a situation like this.

you whimper, feeling your orgasm approaching. he doesn't notice, instead, he is so lost in his own pleasure that he barely feels you clawing at his back as you cum hard on his cock.

"huh? what's that? you want more?"

tears drop down your cheeks, overwhelming pleasure washing over your body. you can't take it, but seonghwa doesn't ask. he only holds you in place, slowing his pace and giving you time to relax and regain composure.

but what's the use, when as soon as you calm from your high, he starts snapping his hips into yours again? you now shamelessly tug at his hair, not sure if it's from pain or pleasure. but both is good to you.

"fuck, can i cum in you?"

you nod, and if you could, you'd beg him to do so. seonghwa gets down, burying his face into the crook of your neck and shoulder, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in circles. you desperately groan into his ear, moving your hips with his movements. seonghwa's moves gradually become sloppy, losing the collected sensual waves and instead opting for harsh thrusts, tip of his cock touching your cervix and leaving your body shaking in his arms.

fireworks paint the sky, just like seonghwa paints your walls with his seed. your orgasm washes over you once again, and you feel yourself get slippery down there. he doesn't stop, helping both of you ride it out as fireworks keep going off above you.

seonghwa is the first to gain his consciousness, carefully removing the panties from your mouth. while you are still catching your breath, he kisses your tears away.

"hey?"

you hum, looking up at the colorful explosions.

"did i hurt you?"

"in normal circumstances, i would've said i wish. but this? you just made me never wish for rough sex again."

he only chuckles, then takes his discarded shirt from the small pile. he helps you sit up, then covers you with his shirt.

"thank you, hwa."

he puts his pants back on, sitting next to you. he grabs the bottle of leftover champagne, taking a sip before offering you one too. you take it, resting your head on his shoulder.

"happy birthday, noona."

"oh, you seriously have to stop that."

as you both laugh and stare at the reflection of the moon on the ocean surface, you can't help but feed the small hope you almost killed today. maybe seonghwa doesn't have to be a faded crush or a summer fling.

"say, when we get back, do you want to go out someti-" he starts, as if he read your thoughts.

"yes." you interrupt, planting a kiss on his cheek.

🐬feedback greatly appreciated! 💙

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woso-dreamzzz · 1 year ago

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Academy

Hardersson x Preteen!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Your first academy session

Your first official day of academy training comes after Momma and Morsa have retired.

You've moved back to Sweden properly now with constant trips to Denmark as well. But, mainly, you're based in Sweden. Momma and Morsa have gone into coaching and sometimes commentating while you're left going to school and practicing.

You'd done a trial in the summer for Linköping FC and got in and now you're sitting in the car with Momma and Morsa psyching yourself up to go in.

You're eleven now - nearly twelve - and you open and close your hands into fists as you look over at the training centre. There's a group of similarly aged girls to you waiting outside, getting ticked in on the register as they stand in a clump.

"Do you need us to come up with you?" Morsa asks, also looking at the girls.

You shake your head. "No. No one else's parents are there." It's a lie, of course. You desperately want them to walk you up there but it'd be embarrassing so you're leaning away from the option.

Momma turns back in her seat and reaches her hand back to hold yours. "Hey," She says," It's only for a few hours. You go in. You listen. You do what they say and then we'll go and get takeout for dinner. Sound good?"

You nod, wiping your sweaty palms on your shorts. "Yeah."

"We love you," Morsa says," And if you hate it, you don't have to go back."

You slip out of the car and approach, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet as you sign in. It doesn't take long for everybody else to arrive and soon you're all being brought inside and handed trainings shirts and stuff.

Then, names are being read out.

You're still young so roles like defence, midfield and forward are still fairly flexible but some people (like you) are already firmly in little boxes so you're easy to separate out.

But, most of your peers end up in a group in the middle because they either haven't chosen their roles or don't yet know what they'd be good at.

There's a fairly large group of forwards which Momma told you last night would happen. At your age, everyone wants to score a goal and most of these girls will end up as attacking midfielders before the year is up. Speaking of the midfield, they're a much smaller group than the self-proclaimed forwards and the defenders are even smaller.

You're the only goalkeeper, feeling a little awkward as you sit at a table all by yourself until the trainer comes.

He smiles at you. He's kind of got one of those old people smiles that Momma's dad has, all warmth and happiness.

You smile back.

"You know," He says, his voice barely above a whisper," I wasn't actually expecting any keepers today. Usually, everyone wants to score a goal."

"That's what my Momma says."

"Your Momma sounds very smart," He replies," Now..." He pulls out some sheets of paper. "I'm meant to explain all the ins and outs of everything. It's meant to take a while because we leave time for questions but, if you let me get through this all then I'm sure we'd have time to play a few rounds of noughts and crosses while everyone else finishes up. Sound good?"

You nod.

He's right, of course. Everyone else takes ages to explain everything but keeping is fairly straight forward and you're the only keeper here so there's not other people around to ask questions.

"Whoa there!" Morsa says as you crash into her at the end of training," You're all sweaty!"

She's right.

You are sweaty. Hair sticks to your forehead and your shirt to your skin. You're sure that you're all gross feeling but Morsa doesn't care as she hugs you back before ushering you into the car.

"How did it go?" Momma asks as she pulls out of the car park," Good? Bad?"

"Good!" You say, a grin splitting your face wide open.

"What did you do?" Morsa asks, turning in her seat to look at you.

"We played a little game," You answer, practically bouncing in excitement," So they could all see where we were at and the individual trainers laid out the plans for each week."

"Were there a lot of forwards?" Momma teases as she turns onto a road.

"Uh-huh. I was the only keeper though."

"That'll change," Morsa assures you," Those kids that haven't decided yet will end up cycling through everything. I'm sure one or two of them will be keepers."

"It's fine," You say," I'm not upset. I don't need other keepers."

Your mothers laugh softly.

"You still need to make friends," Momma says.

"I just want to train," You insist stubbornly.

"You can train and have friends too," Morsa puts in," In fact, I'd go so far as to say you need friends to train well. Promise me, princesse, that you'll make some friends."

You huff. "Fine," You say," I'll make friends."

"Good. Now, what did you want for dinner?"

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #The Big Adventures Universe

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syzthefrizz · 7 months ago

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Tips for writing dream sequences (from someone who has really vivid, weird dreams on a frequent basis)

My biggest pet peeve with fictional dream sequences is that they make too much sense!! They're too relevant! There's not enough random crazy stuff! That's not always unrealistic per se, but you are missing out on some of the fun ways you can reveal information about your character's mindset, fears, struggles, and future.

Most of my dreams have a goal or objective driving the plot, and it's usually urgent. Ex. "escape the huge storm on the horizon", "find a place to sleep for the night in an unfamiliar town", "find a bathroom". This is especially true of stress dreams.

Everything going on in the dream makes perfect sense to you during the dream. It doesn't feel like reality per se, but you think it is. You're living in a house full of vampires that could eat you at any moment? Seems legit.

Emotions and situations from the dreamer's life can/will find their way into dreams, with varying levels of subtlety. The dream could be about the stressful event itself, or it could be some sort of exaggerated metaphor. Ex. I was worried about whether I was a competent CS major while I was still trying to find a summer job/internship, and I was worried about what my professors must think of me. Such a good student on paper, still without summer plans. I dreamed that I ran into my professors all having lunch together at a restaurant (during a dream with a completely different storyline), and I was wearing my pajamas. They judged me.

Certain things are very hard to do in dreams. This could vary from person to person. For me, it's always driving (the brakes never work right), flying (I can't stay off the ground for very long), and running (it's like trying to run through waist-deep water).

People with PTSD may dream about the traumatic event happening differently than it actually happened. (Take this one with a grain of salt - I don't suffer from PTSD, I just research it sometimes so my blorbos can suffer accurately).

You can have a string of loosely connected or disconnected dream sequences back to back, each with an entirely different plot, setting, etc.

People can have reoccurring themes or plotlines in their dreams, which are often connected to their lives/psyche somehow. I frequently dream about running away from tornadoes and being in situations where there's some catastrophe coming but I'm the only one who understands that there's a problem and nobody will listen to me.

It's common for me to have a dream setting that I KNOW is someplace I'm familiar with, but it doesn't actually look like that place at all. Ex. "I dreamed that we were at my house, but it didn't look like my house..."

Dreams can end in cliffhangers. Sometimes I wake up right before I'm about to eat something delicious.

Sometimes people have dreams about doing things that they would never, ever do in real life, and they wake up feeling disgusted. This is Not a manifestation of their secret desires (*glares at Freud*).

Images are the most memorable parts of dreams. I forget the specific plot points, but I can still picture dozens of liminal spaces my brain has created, even years after I dreamed about it.

Dreams will fade from memory very quickly unless the dream had a strong impression on you, you write details about it down or you tell someone about it before you forget.

If you realize you're dreaming during your dream, sometimes you can control the dream going forward. This is called lucid dreaming. I've done it accidentally a couple times, and it's really hard to "hold on" to the dream and control it. I usually wake up soon after starting. With practice, you can get better at it.

Sometimes a normal/good dream can turn into a nightmare, and vice versa. Most of my dreams aren't really good or bad, they're something in between.

Your subconscious brain is CRAZY intuitive. We can argue over the existence of prophetic dreams (I've heard so many crazy stories), but at the end of the day, your subconscious brain knows things that you don't consciously know. If your character is in love with someone, their subconscious brain will know even if the character doesn't. Relationship problems? Deepest darkest fears and insecurities? Your brain knows. A dream predicted the downfall of my first relationship eight months before it happened, down to the reason why we failed. You can absolutely foreshadow this way. A character might subconsciously know what the consequences of their or other people's actions will be, understand things about the situation they're in, know things about the people they're interacting with, and more, despite their conscious realizations.

There are plenty of ways to make a dream sequence relevant to your story, but don't forget to add in some fun, random details. Character A is secretly in love with Character B? Have Character A dream about Character B confessing feelings to them while in a Vine Nostalgia themed restaurant over a plate of mac-n-cheese. The details are the fun part, and you can get as weird as you want. I once ran into my aunt in a dream, and she was wearing a backpack with a bunch of (fake?) hands sticking out of it, making a fan that rose above her back behind her head like some sort of peacock feather costume piece. I was so freaked out that I woke up. I dare you to get weirder than that.

Not everyone's brain works the same way. I have vivid, random, detailed, memorable dreams on a frequent basis. When I describe them to people they often ask "what were you on?". My roommate only remembers her dreams when they're nightmares. I have some friends who say they don't dream. Other friends have really boring, mundane dreams about their normal lives. Some people have weird dreams but only once in a blue moon. It's a good idea to decide off the bat what kinds of dreams your character has, and how often they remember them.

That's it for now, but I might make a part two if I think of more things to add. Feel free to reblog with your own personal dream expertise!

#writeblr #writing advice #creative writing #dreams #weird dreams #writing tips #writers on tumblr

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musedblues · 6 months ago

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All Things Must Pass

a/n: IDK CHAT this is 100% projection. long story short, i promised @almightyellie and @userjohndeacon a sessa fic, started it, then proceeded to have the worst june ever. and i accidentally ended up turning this entire plot into my therapy. sorry for the devastation but... happy ending?

description: since starting college angus became your very best friend. just as you begin to wrap up your academic career, shit hits the fan for everyone. friends to lover's type shit but make it excruciating. angus x fem reader.

warnings: explicit sexual situations, death, mentions of suicidal ideation, brief scene ft. harassment, over all morbid tone. God bless whoever takes the time to put up with this plot lmao

18k

MINORS DNI

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The Party

"Would you hurry up! I want to get there before all the good booze is gone." Angus drummed on his steering wheel as you rushed into his passenger seat. He'd been honking outside your dorm for five minutes, despite the couple times you poked your head out the window to yell at him that you were coming.

"I got ready later than I wanted, I was actually trying to study. You know we're at college to learn shit, right?"

"Yeah, and I'm trying to learn how to get drunk fast tonight. Every moment of this precious life is a lesson to be learned if you let it, kid." Angus jested, as if being a few months younger mattered in your mid-twenties.

"You used to be fun, Angus. You used to be so carefree. You used to bitch so much less profoundly. That philosophy class has done a number on you." You laughed as you teased him, watching your friend grin in response. Angus was your favorite pain in the ass. You were his, he said so often. He was your ride to everywhere. You were his built-in tutor for everything. He was your emergency contact on every official form. All because he was lost the first weekend here; and you just happened to learn directions to the furthest class on campus moments before he asked an ever-emptying hallway of students to show him the way.

"Look. This is the last party Kiara is throwing before she graduates, and before our month of finals. I just want to have the best night possible." Angus reasoned. He went on to ramble about how uptight you had been about school lately, and how you needed to let lose tonight all the same. Angus was right.

Your first year of college was spent in elation, when you realized you'd finally escaped the confines of your family. None of them ever had your best interest in mind, and rushing off to freedom was how you spent your 20th autumn. Your second year of college was spent really nailing down your major, hedging all your bets on studying something serious that would keep you afloat your entire life. Something you could depend on for yourself and no one else. But the fatigue of your intense studies set in by the third year, leading you to seek out more extra curriculars to take the edge off.

It was Kiara's idea to take dance lessons. She was your partner in every tango and waltz. She was your biggest encouragement to take the extra ballet class. And she'd been really pushing you to audition for the team that would travel to Europe to compete in an annual competition. Between your friend, and your instructor, you'd been swayed to stay longer at practices- and to work harder for auditions at the start of the summer. But that meant your studies became even more of a challenge, with your brain focused on achieving more goals than you'd set out to tackle.

"So, what are we doing tonight?" Angus rallied, as he pulled against the curb of Kiara's townhouse.

"Having a good time!" You enunciated each word as Angus chanted along with you, smiling his stupidly perfect smile. You'd always loved the sight of him happy, carefree. Happy looked especially good on your friend Angus.

You trailed behind your friend as he bound toward the steps of the party, and held open the front door for you. The air was misty with hints of rain, summer couldn't settle in quick enough.

Kiara's home was big enough for four or more people, but she planned to share it only with her cousin- a lawyer on her way from Chicago, whom none of you had yet to meet. To the left of the entrance hall was the living room; packed with acquaintances and strangers clinking red solo cups together as a Hendrix record played. To the left was the kitchen, where Kiara stood showing off an island full of drinks and organized snacks. Her springy brown curls were pulled back in a neat ponytail and she was dressed better than anyone, as always.

"There they are!" She smiled and pointed to you and Angus, before waving you over to her massive refrigerator.

"Extra cold beer and expensive liquor for friends only." Kiara swept her hand to suggest you pick your poison, as she swatted away a stranger from reaching in all at once. You laughed and thanked her for being extra thoughtful, not surprised by her set up. She was the most detail-oriented human you'd ever met. Once Angus had a bottle of beer in either hand and you were content with the last of some old chardonnay, you followed Kiara out to the patio.

There beyond the steady flame from the fire pit, sat Soren and Tom. Both already high off their asses. They waved as you approached and lit up a fresh joint. And just like that your group was glued together. You'd all wound up in San Fransico from different parts of the country. And you'd all ended up tight knit throughout a year of run ins at pubs and races to class, despite the difference in some of your grades. Fate continuously lobbed you each together. And over the past few years; time always carved out at least one day a week where the five of you could hunch over laughing past midnight like a band of fools.

"How's your job at the cafe going Soren? Paying your book fees back in a timelier manner now?" You rose a brow and looked to your friend. His blonde curls hung to his shoulders; his eyes red by way of the night's events that had only just begun. How he was dependable enough to hold down a job you were unsure, but impressed by all the while.

"I haven't been late once in the two months I've worked there. For work, or my fees." The guy boasted, taking a hit from the blunt he kept promising to pass around but never did. Your group set down their bottles and glasses to give Soren a small round of applause.

"What about you Kiara? Are you set up for your internship?" Angus asked, both beers already gone. He rose from his perch on a lounge chair to reach in a nearby cooler for another drink.

"Oh yeah. I start next week, and I graduate three days later. It's getting real, gang. We're getting grown up." Kiara pouted out of sentiment, and nervousness, you noticed.

"One day closer to death." Tom concluded, "Gotta make the most of it!" The guy lunged, stealing the blunt that Soren had been hogging, laughing at the blonde's appalment. You admired Tom's waggish disposition, eagerness to keep you all on your toes. But even dark eyed, dark humored Tom started to lament about how fast time was flying by this third year of school.

"I'm gonna graduate, get a house and a few cats. I'm gonna start working at the vet clinic and be rich enough to start my own in ten years." Tom declared, so sure of himself. You watched your friend mean every word that came out of his mouth, which was rare for the often-unserious fellow.

"Did you know," Angus began to rally, raising his bottle to make a point. "In Egypt when a family's cat died, they all shaved their eyebrows off as a sign of respect. Haven't figured out why yet. But I was reading-"

You groaned a laugh, decidedly tuning out the rest of Angus' sentance. You loved that he always had a recently studied story to share. They fascinated you, usually. But tonight, Angus rambles about history repeating itself was filling you with dread. You weren't keen to consider the past tonight. And your own lack of clarity about the future was growing vaster every day.

Remembering your promise to let loose here, you politely excused yourself from Angus' on-going speech to find more to drink. Surely the fridge inside had something strong enough, something to really set you off for the evening.

A bottle of whiskey seemed promising but there were no mixers. You settled for a couple shots, and chatted with a girl who lived down the hall from you. She did two more shots with you and introduced you to her girlfriend. The pair were nice enough together but wouldn't shut the fuck up about a recent trip to France and their decision to move there. Couldn't anyone talk about anything besides their plans for life, tonight?

In the living room, strangers picked the worst vinyl's from Kiara's collection to spin. You sighed as some physics major beamed at the sound of Neil Diamond groaning from the speakers.

Thank God you hadn't been left to linger too long alone. Angus was tapping at your shoulder eventually, holding up a bottle of your favorite rum you hadn't realized was available. His smile grew mischievously as he beckoned you to follow him away from the crowd. This was when the real fun always began.

The spare most bedroom was home to a smaller record player and a more prized collection of vinyl's. Kiara never minded your spinning these, knowing how delicate and careful you were with them. How you were more dazzled by some of her favorite collections than she was, on occasion.

Angus was quick to lock the door, keeping out the people who inevitably started knocking to use the en suite bathroom. Kiara had two more. They'd figure that out. You chose an older album, struggling to turn it up louder than the shit they were blaring from the living room. Angus had already taken an absurd swig of rum from the bottle by the time you'd finished fidgeting with the volume dial.

"Geeze, save some for the rest of us buddy." You snatched the drink for your own turn, already buzzed, but looking to see stars tonight. Angus was well on his way, it seemed, laughing a little too hard at your jest.

"Finally, good music and decent booze. And you, I guess." You smiled up at Angus, taking a big drink as he grinned back your way. He accepted the bottle back as you began to drone on about the shit music the crowd was playing. You rambled about how you feared they lacked a certain amount of passion for talent. You lamented still how easy it was for people to know passion better than you ever could. How unequivocally everyone spoke tonight about their passions and futures and plans. But how even given your efforts to want the same things, you didn't feel that same certainty everyone else seemed to.

"You gotta get out of here." Angus stalled before you, tapping his pointer finger against your temple. He was always getting you to snap out of your silly spinning what if's and why's.

"Sorry. I know, we're supposed to be having fun." You remarked, grabbing back the bottle to catch up to Angus level of inebriation. He went on to make some foul retort about passion, a joke about the last time he managed a one night stand.

"That's the same gusto you're so proud of that got you only frowns the day you asked out three poor freshman before lunch."

"Win some you lose some." Angus grinned, taking a generous swig before passing the bottle to you. You were both well drunk by then and enjoying the solitude from the masses. Kiara threw the best parties because she had the biggest house. And that gave you a lot of opportunities to seek out space all the while, which was the more valued asset, you thought. Your longsuffering roommate was always in the way. And if your one was an obstacle, Angus' three others were too much to bear. Nights like these were sacred for so many reasons.

"I'm better with silent queues, anyway. I've never successfully talked my way into a date."

You chuckled in your friend's direction, rolling your shoulders to the beat of the new vinyl you picked out. You dreamed a little of adding this song to the list of ones to choreograph in the future.

"No, I'm serious! The people I've successfully hooked up with in college have all happened when I decide to keep the talking to a minimum. A little body language goes a long way, I swear!"

"Angus you know I love you, but I'm struggling to believe you." He was too awkward. Not in a nerdish way. But something about his countenance could be enigmatically naive. He'd been through a lot in his young life, enough to hold a certain wisdom in his posture. But he still seemed to have so much to learn.

"No?" Angus stifled a laugh, seeming to make a decision with a nod. "Well what about this?" He set the bottle of rum down on a chest of drawers. Angus turned, giving you a sly look over his shoulder, before spinning to face you all the way, letting his eye's rake up your figure. He did have the most alluring set of eyes, and you liked to imagine what was going through his head as he peered across every inch of your body.

"You come here often, darlin'?" Angus rose a playful brow, reaching to sling an arm over your shoulder. You huffed a sorry laugh and shook your head in disapproval.

"It worked until I talked, didn't it?" Angus bit his lip, lifting his brows again to get you to giggle. Even if it did, you'd never tell him.

You drank more and argued over what records to play. You laid on the floor near the speakers and settled into silence when a particularly good song came on. Angus hummed along and made you smile. You drank more and made each other laugh until you cried, slumped against the wall by the loo. Music still pulsed from downstairs, but you noticed fewer voices rallied from downstairs, fewer knocks on your door too.

Then you mistakenly noticed the clock.

"Oh God Angus it's midnight?" I have a test in the morning." You slumped further down the wall you'd been leaning against, covering your head in your hands. "I was already prepared to fail, now I'm gonna be tired and stressed."

"Hey," Angus called, reaching out to pull your hands from your face. "Look, you either know it or you don't. No amount of studying or sleeping now is gonna help. You've already studied so much. I'm sure you'll do fine. Really!"

You sighed and said you knew he was right. But you couldn't understand why you felt so much more unsure than all of your other friends. You arguably studied hardest out of the five of you. You had the same goals. But Tom seemed so certain that his ten-year plan would work out, no matter any set backs. And Kiara was already accepted into her dream position. Angus never complained once about fearing a test or a grade. And Soren God bless him, took it day by day, but he was doing reasonably well for lack of planning. You voiced to Angus how it scared you that life didn't always turn out perfectly despite all your best efforts.

Your friend frowned, and seemed to struggle for a response. Maybe he was too drunk. Or maybe there just was no answer. With the shake of his dark curls Angus decided to wrap an arm around your shoulder. You felt him kiss the crown of your head, something he did when there was nothing left to say. No advice to give. But when he still wanted to show his support. His closeness was a comfort like no other. He knew just how to be near you. And then you realized he was right in a way, before. Angus was pretty good when it came to wordless connection.

As you realized this, you broke from your leaning against him to cast your eyes to his face. Angus blinked, letting his arm stay draped around you, letting his fingers draw patterns against your shoulder. His lips formed a small smile as Angus watched you consider his features. His eye's stayed easily peering into yours, and somehow it was like you really saw him for the first time.

"I'm afraid I believe you now." You huffed a humorless laugh, drunk enough to speak without thinking. And how Angus was quick enough to register what you meant, you didn't know. But you saw his eyes look into yours with an understanding you'd never uncovered in your three years of friendship. It might've given you a shiver up your spine. Or you might've just been that drunk. But the longer you looked into Angus' eyes and the quieter he remained, the faster your heart started beating. How much had you had to drink?

You couldn't tear your gaze from his, noticing his mouth begin to move to speak, but no words came. Maybe he stalled, or maybe he was still trying to find the right thing to say. Or maybe he was that drunk. But there was something happening to you that hadn't happened in the entirety of your knowing Angus. Your heart rate had never quickened, drunk or not, in his presence. Your mind had never gone so blank, staring into his eyes. You could've gotten into your head about it. But there was no time to think. Because all of a sudden, he was kissing you.

It seemed to come out of nowhere after all these years. But it seemed so obvious in the moment. His lips stalled on yours as his fingers moved to brush against your neck, the ghost of a clutch. It was as if he couldn't move until you pushed him away or kissed him back. You chose the latter.

You let your lips bruise into his. You let your hand fall above his knee. You let your fingers curl into a grip. And that seemed to give Angus the green light to really kiss you. His lips parted and his hand molded around the back of your neck and his other arm dared to encircle you. You let your free hand find his shoulder. As Angus flexed to pull you closer to him, you leaned in to kiss him fiercer, knocking the guy over in the process.

Angus let both his hands tangle in your hair as you kissed him against the bedroom floor. It seemed your hands and his moved without a thought or a care, aided by alcohol no doubt. Your fingers found themselves dancing along the hem of Angus t-shirt as his traveled to grab at your hips. The record that was playing was skipping and scratching, begging to be turned. But your every focus was on your very best friend right now, how far his tongue was down your throat, how much in a hurry you felt to tear his jeans off.

You couldn't believe how fast it was all happening. You couldn't quiet process that Angus slender fingers were creeping underneath your skirt. You couldn't seem to kiss him hard enough. It wasn't long before he rolled to pin you against the floor. It wasn't long before he was actually shagging you in the spare bedroom of your friend's townhome. Angus slammed his hips into yours and breathed hard against your neck. You let your nails dig into his shoulder blades as he finished, and strained to catch your breath as he collapsed at your side.

If you were confused about things before, you were confounded at this point. But it was one in the morning. And you had a test to take. And no time to think of anything else at all.

"I'm sorry for doubting you earlier." You broke the deafening silence in the room by turning to grin at Angus. He laughed, a real but breathy and exhausted chuckle. Silence settled in again, until you suggested getting up off the floor. At a languid pace, Angus moved to fasten his trousers, and stumbled into a crawl. You managed to move up right faster and decidedly dragged your friend toward the bed in the middle of the room. Sloshed and spent, you each fell asleep rather quickly. But you didn't drift off without a deepening storm of questions brewing in the back of your mind.

///

A knocking stirred you from dreaming. But the harsh early sun from the window caused your eyes to snap shut in a hurry. This bed wasn't yours. Angus was next to you. His curls tickling your cheek. His arm like a heavyweight across your stomach.

Despite the knocking, your eyes couldn't keep open. Your brain still clung to dreams.

You relished the way your friends body molded against yours. You struggled to recall the last time you felt so calm. So relaxed. It was too easy to fall asleep again.

And then you were shaken to reality once more.

"Wake up, please-" Angus was whispering your name with urgency. He wasn't at your side, not like before. He was standing. His arms no longer held you close. But his hand clutched your arm, and it stayed there as you sat up to meet his eyes. They were bloodshot. His brows were pushed in, darkening his gaze. His usual faint grin was turned into a frown.

Angus swallowed and dug his fingers into your shoulder.

"You gotta get up. Tom's dead."

///

Kiara was slumped against the kitchen table when Angus finally got you out of bed. You rushed to her side in a panic, as she kept her head down. Angus stalled near the entry way of the kitchen, hands on his head, breaking out into a pace.

Soren was hanging up the phone on the wall, he'd just called off work for the very first time ever. You wanted to tell him you were proud of him for not having done so sooner. But now wasn't the time. One of you was missing. And he wasn't coming back.

Kiara lifted her head from the table, her once pinned curls now disheveled. Her face was wet with tears as she sucked in a deep breath.

"Angus can you tell the strangers sleeping on my sofa to get the fuck out, please?" Kiara's voice was hoarse and worn. Soren sat across from you as Angus left the room on a mission, and you begged someone to tell you what the hell was going on.

Kiara said she opened her door to the police at five this morning. She was Tom's emergency contact, after all. She said he decided to walk home instead of crashing here. He only lived a block away. He should have made it. But he was drunk. And a pickup truck didn't hit their breaks in time. And just like that, none of it mattered. His bed was never slept in. His degree was never earned. His plans out the window. A fifth seat at the pub and dinner table permanently empty.

Angus returned to announce he'd gotten everyone to leave. But a well-meaning girl straggled in the kitchen behind him, asking the group of you if there was anything she could do for you. Angus turn to yell that she go like he so kindly asked her to in the first place. Soren started sobbing then, slumping from the chair at your side, his blonde locks weighing your lap down. You sat in shock, carding your fingers through his hair. You locked eyes with Angus across the room, watching the way his teeth dug into his lip to keep from crying. You had a lot to talk about. But now wasn't the time.

As you turned to look to Kiara, your eyes fell onto the clock.

"I- I have a test." Your voice cracked; a cry lodged in your throat that you weren't ready to let escape.

"What professor? I can help you get an extension, if you want?" Kiara sniffled.

"I... I don't want that. I want to get it over with. I don't want to leave here but I don't- I don't know."

"Hey, it's okay-" Kiara reached to rest her hand on your forearm. You struggled to breathe but kept rambling despite yourself.

"I don't want to put it off, I'll be way more stressed than I already am, but I don't want to leave here, Kiara..." You begged her to help you make sense out of your panic. That's what she was good at.

"It's okay." She demanded with authority, nodding to silence you. "Go take it. Come back when you're finished? I'd really like for us to all be together tonight." She sucked in a shaky breath and cast her gaze to Angus, who was nodding in agreeance. Soren lifted his head from your lap, face red and eyes glossy. He mentioned needing a change of clothes, barely able speak without breaking down again.

"I'll take you to campus." Angus gestured toward you. "And I'll grab your stuff, Soren. Stay with Kiara and we'll be back to help clean this shit up and decide what to do next." Angus asked where his friends dorm key was, decidedly designating himself the errand runner.

Kiara steadied her breathing and thanked him, Angus was always clear minded in crisis. Then she announced that she planned to call Tom's parents. If not to break the news to them before the police, then to find how the family planned to send him off.

Your beautiful hoarse voiced friend demanded you go do your best, as you stood to leave. You gave her a crooked grimace of a smile, every sense clouded with shock and confusion and dismay.

Angus followed you out to his car, where he drove you back to campus in complete silence. Neither of you said a word, neither of you made a sound. There was too much to talk about and not nearly enough of the right kind of time.

///

Finals Month

You failed that test. Miserably. Maybe you should have waited. But you knew the stress of waiting would've worn on you just as much as the shock had, the morning you took it. That night you spent at Kiara's was quiet.

That night you all let the sound of dinner cooking echo through the house. That night you all sat around the living room, trying not to fixate on the spot on the couch where Tom usually sat with his legs crossed. That night Angus held your hand, and the way it usually would've brought you comfort was then matched with conflict. Still, you watched as his fingers tapped against your knuckles and clung to his grip for all it was worth. Despite the way your nerves danced on end, you held his hand. Despite the missing friend, the rest of you sat together.

When you found out you failed the test the next day, you weren't surprised. But you were motivated to get more serious than ever. You only stopped studying the rest of the week, to make meals. And when you finished the first round of finals, you let dance class be your reward.

Kiara was there at the studio, but she wasn't dressed for it. She only wanted to wait up to give you a lift to the pub after, having called you all to plan a meeting this evening. As dancers flooded into the building, you thanked Kiara for coming to watch you, for being there somehow. You promised to dance hard enough for the both of you, that practice.

Then it was time to start the lesson, relishing the way the music pulsed through the floor. You'd never been so thankful for a hobby, it came just in time for you to clear your head. As you moved your body to the beat of some Bowie song, it wasn't like you were coming to any grand conclusions. But something about locking in and moving with the music made your mind stop racing all the while.

And then there was the part of you that savored the compliments you received when you landed a spin or were asked to offer instruction to others. You were really fucking good at this, and you knew it.

When class was over, you struggled to ride the high of the adrenaline dancing usually gave you. The music stopped and you had no reason left to pound your feet into the ground, nowhere left to direct your grief and sadness and worry. But then Kiara was boasting about how well you did and sing songing her familiar plea for you to try out for the European competition. The instructor overheard and walked up to encourage you all the same.

"You really should. Auditions are in a month." The teacher flashed you his coy smile, letting his hand rest on the small of your back. He was like that. But you didn't mind. The thrill you got from his compliments as a leader outweighed the way his flirting could sometimes make you cringe.

"I'll think about it!" You assured, giving Kiara the 'let's get out of here' look.

///

At your usual pub, Angus and Soren were sat in silence, each casting despondent glances toward the table. A chair was empty between them. Funny how hard this kept getting. How often you were reminded that Tom was gone, and how shuddering it was to realize he wasn't coming back. You didn't realize how slowly grief worked. How every new day a creeping mourning swallowed your mind more wholly than the last.

Once seated, you flagged down a waiter for some drinks and frowned when Soren asked how your class went. You didn't really want to talk about it. It didn't seem important at all, all you could think to mention in the company of your friends was how one was gone. Wasn't that so fucked up?

"His mom called today. She says the funeral is tomorrow." Kiara came right out with it, causing everyone to cast their eyes toward her. She hadn't mentioned the phone call she had with Tom's parents when you all reconvened that night. No one had said much of anything at all, that night.

"What the fuck?" Soren spat. Tom was from Alaska. None of you had time to plan to be at a funeral in Alaska in less than 24 hours.

"This morning, she told me they had family in town for some other reason. And want to just 'get it over with' so, fuck us, I guess." Kiara released a shaky breath, turning to thank a waiter who slid glasses onto your high-top table.

"We can do something for him, just us." Angus spoke up, arms crossed tight around his body. He looked up for the first time since you got here and looked right at you. You smiled, glad to see him, content with his latest idea. Angus smiled back and kept his steady brown eyed gaze on yours. And for one fleeting moment you forgot you were being swallowed whole by sadness. But just a moment.

"Yeah. We should have a memorial. Anything you want me to bring?" Soren sat up, nodding over and over at the idea, glad for a progressive plan in his friend's honor.

"A bunch of fuckin' weed. It's what he would've wanted." Kiara laughed. And so did the rest of you.

The rest of the hour you spent drinking was full of a little more hope than any of you had felt in the past few days. You managed a few laughs from each other in the midst of planning a memorial. Through giggles, you all strived to turn conversation lighter. There was an unspoken chugging toward ending your hang out on the semblance of a high note. And you understood why. But something felt so wrong about laughing. Something felt so shameful about droning on about school, with each other. Didn't they feel that? How couldn't they? Would bringing this up kill the mood for better, or for worse?

You didn't know how to conduct yourself the longer you thought about it. Suddenly the whole world and the meaning of life stretch out before you and started to muddle together to fill you with dread.

"Hey." Angus voice was closer than before. You realized your friends were all getting up, and the dark eyed boy was standing beside the stool you sat in. "Hey, come on." Angus rose his finger to your temple and gave it a couple taps. That meant it was time to focus on something else entirely. Time to get out of your head. You nodded and stood to join him as he walked, watching the others head into the foggy night, holding the door open for you.

"It's the last Friday of the month you know." Angus spoke to you gently, his reminder catching you off guard. You didn't really know what to expect, from Angus now. You didn't really know what you expected from yourself, either.

"Oh, yeah."

"Do you... want me to come over?" He seemed to worry. The lanky brunet shifted the weight between his feet and let either of his eyes dart between yours. You saw his breath in the fog of the misty evening. You couldn't imagine ever telling him no.

"It's the last Friday of the month. You always come over. I just... almost forgot this time." You admitted. There had been a lot going on. And you hadn't really been paying attention to the calendar.

"Did you... forget? Or..."

"I forgot. Come on, let's go." You spoke confidently because you were telling the truth. But you realized what he'd alluded to... having recently fucked without acknowledging it in anyway. And you were not ready to have that conversation.

Angus rose his brows, shrugged his shoulders and decidedly stepped in time with you. You'd hoped he'd start talking about something else. But he didn't. He let an awkward silence weigh itself between you as he drove you to your dorm. Angus didn't speak the whole ride there. And neither did you. But he drove you home, and followed you in. And that counted for something, right?

Silence followed you each to the sofa, where you sat on the edge, staring at the blank telly screen.

"Should we watch something?" Angus finally called, leaned back against your decorative pillows with his arms crossed tight.

"I dunno." You realized. It was later than usual. Your roommate was asleep. You weren't sure how to act, alone with Angus now.

"Put on an album, maybe?" He suggested. His voice sounded light years away. And you couldn't figure out if it was because he was sat so far back. Or if he was upset with you. Or if you were simply starting to lose your mind.

"I dunno." You repeated. The upsettingly familiar weight of silence crept between the pair of you once more for what felt like a lifetime.

"We really should talk about it. Shouldn't we?" Angus spoke up, voice breaking up your minds spiral of thoughts that had been getting you nowhere.

You truly didn't know. There was too much happening you hadn't had time to process. A thousand new truths and realities danced around your brain, seeping down to quicken your heart rate. Even if you should've, you couldn't talk without crying. You actually couldn't help that tears started to pool in your eyes now, feeling demanding to free itself from within you.

Your elbows met your knees and your hands blocked out the light of the room. You tried to steady your breathing with a deep intake of air. But cries were all that released out, despite your attempt to bay your overwhelm.

You felt him shift at your side. Angus was up. You sat trying to pull yourself together as you heard Angus move about the room. Suddenly you sensed the telly was switched on and the lights were off.

"I'm sorry. Come here. I'm sorry." Angus called, his weight shifting the sofa once more. "We'll just watch whatever is on. I'm sorry." His hands grabbed to move you back toward him. Angus pulled you to rest at his side, and you couldn't help but accept the invitation. You rose your feet from the floor and buried yourself beside him, sniffling away your tears. Angus held you tighter than you ever recalled him having done before. Angus carded his fingers through your hair, and apologized again. Wasn't this enough? You wondered. Couldn't the pair of you just settle together without words? The more intently you latched against his form, the more purposefully Angus seemed to hold you. Wasn't that all either of you needed to know right now?

But he wouldn't stop apologizing.

"It's okay." You replied, pulling your face away from Angus' shoulder to meet his eye. Your friend wore a look of consternation, jaw clenched, brows furrowed. There was clearly so much he wanted to say. But he didn't. He just shook his head of curls, and pressed his lips together, casting his eyes to his lap. You brought a set of fingers to his jaw, turning his head to face yours.

"I promise, it's okay." You said again, nodding and letting your thumb brush across the apple of his cheek. You watched your friend of many years debate saying what was clearly on the tip of his tongue. You waited for Angus to stop shaking his head and just come out with it already. He'd been wondering if you should talk. And if he wanted too, he should've. Right?

"I just... I really want to kiss you again." Angus said, like he was certain to be condemned for admitting so. You felt your mouth try to grin despite the way your lips anxiously pursed. You watched the way Angus searched your expression for any kind of reaction. But you didn't give him much time before you leaned in to brush your lips against his. This kiss was delicate. This kiss was slow. Your hands did not wander. But you each shared the moment earnestly, for reasons you still weren't ready to uncover.

When Angus stalled to break your connection, he stayed close. His gaze was steady on your lips, as if he were trying to figure out why they were just pressed against his own. But you just couldn't talk about it tonight. So instead, it was your turn to pull Angus close, as you leaned back into the pile of throw blankets. You held Angus' head of curls against your chest as he decidedly let himself relax there.

You didn't know what show was playing. You didn't know what time it was, or when you both fell asleep. You didn't hear Angus leave the next morning. And you didn't know what you were going to do about the way his leaving broke your heart a little more than it'd already had been.

///

You spent the weekend working. Cleaning houses a couple days a week was enough to keep money in your pockets, especially if you had appointments in the rich neighborhoods. You blasted music through each house, and scrubbed to the beat. Like dancing, this was therapy. Every time you remembered Tom was dead, you'd scoured the grout a little harder. Every time you remembered the way Angus dug his fingers into your hips, and how much you liked it, you vacuumed with more gusto. Every time you remembered how poorly the results of your latest finals had been, you turned up the music.

Then came the memorial your friends set up.

It was perfect. You burned a fire in the pit out back, shared a couple joints, and went through old pictures. Each photo unlocked a memory someone had a story about. Kiara found a few flowers to plant around the evergreen near the corner. Flowers that would grow back every year. For Tom. Angus didn't say much that night. And you didn't either. And you could tell the other two noticed.

///

"Claire is finally completely moved in!" Kiara chirped. She sat across the dance floor with you, stretching her fingers to meet the tips of her toes. The townhouse she bought with her cousin in mind was finally home sweet home for both girls. "You'll have to meet her! Angus and Soren already have, I called them to help move a few heavier things."

"Yeah, sounds good." You struggled to respond, only half listening. Your brain was busy focusing on the way your body worked to stretch out every imperfection, every negative thought and feeling. But the way Kiara called your name next forced your undivided attention.

"Look, I get that things have been fucked up recently. You know I know that." Your friends voice shook a little, and a pain rang through your chest at the sound. She lost a friend too. "But you've been especially weird. What's going on, huh?" Kiara sounded almost angry. But then you recognized it was simply hurt spilling over. And you'd been caught. And you couldn't brush her off. Not when she was looking at you like that.

"It's just..." You breathed in, struggling to know where to start, totally unprepared to have been put on the spot here at the studio. And then your instructor was calling everyone to get ready for class. Thank God.

"Later, okay?" You stood, extending a hand for Kiara to grab. She did so and shrugged her way to the middle of the dance floor with a puzzled expression ever glued on you. And that's how it stayed all night. She watched your face for a crack in its resolve. You just danced. You turned every 'what if' away from your mind and let the music flood your system. You ignored Kiara's curious glances and danced like your life depended on it.

When the hour was up and the group was heading out, Kiara made a beeline for you. But so did your instructor.

"Stay later?" He beamed, nodding your way as he walked off, having already decided for you it seemed.

"I can wait up for you!" Kiara lifted her brows in a hopeful manner, stalling to put her shoes back on.

"I don't know how long I'll be." You realized. Halfway trying to get her to give up, and halfway telling the truth. You knew Kiara was simply trying to check in with you. But if you hadn't even been ready to talk to Angus about everything, it sure didn't feel right to bring it all up to Kiara on a whim.

"I don't mind waiting. We could go for drinks or something. I just think-"

"Kiara... no. Please, I honestly can't do this tonight. Not with you." You spoke a little too quickly, a little too fiercely. You immediately regretted shutting her out as the words spilled from your mouth. And then you watched your friends face turn into a grimace.

"Don't be cunty to me when all I'm trying to do is be there for you." Kiara spat back before bending down to pick up her shoes.

"Ki, I'm sorry-" You hurried to plea as she began to turn for the door.

"I'll call you when I'm less pissed off." She waved her hand for you to stay back, to stop following her toward the door. As she began to push out of the exit, she stalled to turn back and say one last thing. "No, actually, you need to call me when you get over yourself." And with that she was gone. And she was right. But you had absolutely no time to process that interaction before your instructor was snapping for your attention.

"You girls seem close." The man teased with a twisted sort of smile. You let out a huff of a laugh, uncertain how to otherwise respond to this man you knew absolutely nothing about outside of his dance credentials. He could kick higher than anyone you knew. And he always got a little too into the salsa, no matter his partner.

"Anyway, you know we're all dying for you to nail next month's audition for the traveling team. I wanted to share some pointers with you, if you're serious about try outs?" The man reveled, smiling as he waited for you to respond. The studio was so quiet without the chatter from the others. Without the thuds from their feet parading across the floor.

"Yeah, that would be so generous of you." You nodded. With your finals having gone horrifically so far, your newly forming plan was to nail this audition, hedge your bets on your newfound talent to land you a decent career while you were young and able.

For the next half hour, as Chopin's Nocturne No. 2 filled the room, your instructor was straightening your posture after spins. You ignore the way his hands lingered at the bend of your waist. He watched you glide from one movement to the next, praising what you got right and coming over to correct your mistakes. He turned your head in the right direction. He moved your arms to fan out more evenly. He let his fingers trail across your spine as he rambled about how important visible strength was to the judges.

"You'll want to be certain of your timing. And you'll have to be confident in every little flex of your finger." The man hummed, "But if you're looking to nail down a yes for your audition now," He said, reaching out to move you a little too forcefully toward your mark, his grasp remaining. "There is one thing you could do."

Oh hell no.

"Fuck you." You hissed, shoving the instructor's hands away from your hips and shuddering at the realization of his implication. Watching the man's face fall into a frown when he realized you couldn't be so easily persuaded gave you a new set of chills.

"Let me be frank. If you don't sleep with me, I won't vote for you, and you need each judges vote to get in." As he spoke, he reached a bold hand toward you. There was no question in your mind to hesitate before you extended your own set of digits to slap across his face.

"How fucking dare you." You spat, moving in a hurry to collect your things. Your shoes were still off and you dropped your sweater on your way out the door. But there was no chance in hell you were turning back for it. All you could do was sprint toward the main road, desperate for a cab.

This was all so fucked. You felt like you had absolutely nothing left to hold out hope for. You were failing school. You were pretty certain you'd ruined things with Angus because of a stupid drunken hook up. Kiara was pissed at you. Tom was dead. And you just had your only outlet for all this shit ruined by that creep of an instructor.

You couldn't stop thinking of the last thing you heard Tom declare. How he was so ready to graduate and get the cat he'd always wanted and a job of his dreams. How he had it all planned out, and how you knew it'd been going well enough to likely come together the way he'd hoped. But it was all for nothing. And here you were, living some actual Shakespearean level nightmare. Why were you the one spared by fate? The one without a stich of the future figured out for the better. It wasn't fucking fair, for you to keep this farce of a life in crippled traction. It wasn't fair for Tom to be dead. You couldn't even successfully catch a cab. The road was bare of traffic.

But you weren't left stomping down the pavement long before a set of headlights blinded your vision.

"What the hell are you doing?" Soren's recognizable lilt came booming from beyond his cranked down pickup window. You stopped in your tracks, squinting to see his car stalling near the sidewalk just before you. "Get in here!"

You weren't going to argue, this late, this cold. You must've looked a sight, shoeless and tear stained. Soren's passenger seat was cluttered, but it didn't take him long to toss the books and papers to the back seat.

"Where the fuck are you coming from? Why are you crying?"

"Cause life is fucked up Soren." You sniffled, finally putting your shoes on. Your friend started to drive off then, but wouldn't stop asking what happened or if you were okay.

"I'm fine. Thank you for the rescue."

He explained that he was coming home from work. He asked if he should take you home, or to Angus' dorm. And that made a new spring of angry hot tears pool in your gaze. It was all you could do to breathe steadily, before shaking away your emotion to finally answer your friend.

"I'm so sorry. It's just been a really shit day. And that's really saying something lately isn't it?" You laughed, despite yourself, and so did Soren. Though his eyes stayed curiously drifting from the road to your slump to the right of him.

"Kiara and I had a weird fight. And then I quit dance class. And I left my favorite sweater there." You whined, ultimately deciding you owned someone an explanation. And Soren had already accepted you in his ride in your sorry state.

"We can turn back! Do you want to get-"

"No." You demanded. "The instructor guy is a creep. I never want to see him again. And I don't want to see Angus. I just want to go home. Please."

Soren spoke your name lowly, begging to know more. But you couldn't. You just shook your head and thanked your friend again for the lift.

///

Claire

Kiaras cousin was a tall, sharp-witted model of a lawyer. She sat way to close to Angus on the loveseat, knees brushing. And he laughed way too hard at her jokes. It made you sick to watch the pair of them chuckle over a bottle of wine. What could they possibly have to laugh about? He was a brooding stick figure of a college student. And she was this blonde bombshell of an older woman. The pair of them colluding didn't make sense to you.

With the roll of your eye's you fled the living room for the kitchen, finding Kiara. She'd just finished perfecting another well made dinner.

"Hey." You cautioned meekly, finding your friend shutting the oven door. The room was warm from the heat of the appliance. The air was thick with the scent of spices and herbs. Kiara turned to you with a faint smile, stalling for you to do the talking. And you knew you needed to.

"I'm really sorry I never called, like you asked. And I'm sorry for being so nasty that night." You frowned, meaning every word. You hated that your upset had spilled out into sharp words Kiara never should've received.

"I'm sorry I called you cunty." Your friend shrugged before letting out a small chuckle. "But you can't keep shutting us out, babe."

Kiara's statement caught you off guard. You hadn't really realized that's what you'd been doing. But it was. You still hadn't given Angus any chance to talk. You yelled at Kiara when she asked what was wrong. And you brushed off Soren's concern when he gave you a lift home. But then a sudden irritation rose within you.

"I guess I don't know what there is to say that you all don't already know. I guess I don't understand why Angus is laughing in the living room and why we're all pretending to have a nice dinner like everything is fine when it isn't."

"We're all still hurting," Kiara spoke your name, imploring for you to hear her. "What's so hard to understand about wanting to achieve some levity together?" Kiara sounded angry again, angrier than you. Angry at you.

"Why can't you let me be upset?" You quizzed, chest hot with misunderstanding.

"Why can't you let me move on?" Kiara demanded to know, voice full of emotion.

Just then Soren breezed in, setting his bag of comic books and weed on the kitchen island, asking how he could help set up for dinner. Kiara asked him to grab everyone drinks. Then she told you to carry out a pan of food to the table. Her tone was short and she wouldn't look you in the eye. You did as she asked, anger bubbling and brewing deeper in the pit of your stomach all the while.

You ate dinner, asking Claire about Chicago. You pretended not to grimace at the sound of her shrill run on sentences. You reminded yourself your upset shouldn't be directed at this poor stranger of a woman. But it was hard not to seethe when she was sat in the fifth seat at the table. You and Soren each shared a glance or two of annoyance at Claire's hogging the nights conversation.

When she wasn't speaking, Angus was asking her more questions. You watched him hang on her every word. You kept hoping he'd turn and give you those looks. You watched his fingers drum on the table, and wished his hands were holding yours. You realized then, just exactly how fucked you were. And how no matter when or how you had the inevitable conversation with Angus- that everything was different now between you two. When he started rambling about his thesis having something to do with ancient Roman law, you excused yourself again.

Thinking fast, you gathered everyone's finished dinner plates to take to the sink, the perfect leave. Your anger dissolved into exhaustion by the time you reached the kitchen, you were getting a little sick of your own bullshit. You were growing weary over how out of control your life and emotions seemed these days.

As you arranged the dirty dishes in the sink, something caught your eye from beyond the patio door windows. Through the never-ending fog of this San Fransico spring, a small grey blur. You turned your attention fully to the backyard, beyond the firepit, past the chairs. A slender grey cat was biting at the flowers Kiara planted for Tom.

"Uh, guys." You called out for someone else to come and see this because there was no way they'd believe you if you simply told them. "Guys you have to come see this." You called again, a laughter breaking up your announcement.

"What's wrong?" Angus came sauntering in, you heard him, but you didn't dare turn from the sight of the animal in the backyard. "Oh... my God." Angus approached, stalling at your side near the patio doors. He let out a chuckle too, disbelief painting a smile across his face that reached his almond eyes. You turned to look right at him. And he turned to look right at you. And for a moment you weren't sure what sight dazzled you more. The others came rushing in, pointing and laughing and standing in awe before the patio doors. The laughter that was born from shock kept erupting more and more between the four of you, until Soren was howling, and Angus was coughing and Kiara was nearly breathless.

"I don't get it. What's funny?" Claire asked, looming near the kitchen island with a look of perturbed wonder. Maybe Kiara was right. It was time to let some kind of light in.

///

"Open the dooooooor." Angus whined from outside your dorm, chanting the same thing over as you rushed to hide paper in your hands. It was a letter from your university.

You failed your finals. You failed this entire semester.

Shoving the letter between your mattress and box spring, you clamored to unlock the door, letting your best friend inside.

"Geeze, do you really have to lock all three locks on your door? I stood there freezing for hours it felt like, coulda died in that hallway."

"For somebody who came from a winter state you sure have a shit tolerance for temperature." You joked. But it had been a chilly spring. "I'm not taking my chances with the serial killers and the impatient East Coasters."

Angus stood with his hands in his jacket pockets and that familiar brooding smirk on his face you were so damn endeared to. His smile was always a good sign. But still, you were suspicious of your friend's presence, still on uncertain terms.

"Want to come do laundry with me?"

Finally, something normal. A usual request from Angus. A routine you could follow without question or wonder. Just a couple of spin cycles and whatever bullshit you each thought up to ramble over to pass the time. With a nod you grabbed your hamper and followed Angus to his car. The laundromat was a five-minute drive, one you spent turning the radio dials while Angus bitched about traffic.

Inside the laundromat, rows of machines lined the walls and only a couple patrons stood separating whites from darks and folding fresh sheets. Some folk songs crackled from the speakers, but the whir of the dryers and washers drowned out the guitars. You each got down to business; loading your clothes into separate machines and lingering to wait on one another to head across the street. A diner waited, windows flooded with flyers and adds.

Angus got you each a coffee and you ordered some fries. He mentioned going with Soren to a wedding in New York in a couple weeks. Yammering about summer plans. Angus considered the idea of tracking down his old professor when they got over there. You listened. You said you didn't have any plans. You clawed through topics in your head to keep up the facade of normalcy. But nothing could stop the silence that branched from the space in between you and your very best friend. You watched his lanky finger steal a fry from your basket without asking. You sat biting your lip instead of reprimanding him.

"I took Claire on a date. Two nights ago."

You nearly choked on the coffee you sipped to suppress your jitters.

"Claire?" You rang, shooting Angus a look of disbelief.

"I really like her. And she somehow really likes me." Angus reasoned, holding out a hand as if to pass along this information. You sat, playing back his sentence over and over in your head. Playing back the way they laughed together the night you met her. She seemed nice enough... But...

"I was going to wait and ask you... I don't know, for permission, I guess? But then I kind of figured if you wanted to talk about what happened with us, you would have by now. So that must mean you don't have anything to say, right? So, I asked Claire on a date. But then I felt like a real asshole about not telling you. So this is me... asking one last time. Do you want to talk about it? Do you care?" Angus ended his rambling admission by boring his dark eyes right into yours, and waiting.

You sat, playing his words over and over. You sat remembering the warmth that filled your every cell when he first kissed you. You sat remembering how he said he wanted to do it again. You sat wondering why the fuck your body and your brain refused to function as a team, failing you from opening your mouth at all now. But if you couldn't do it... maybe Angus could.

"Do you? Care?" You dared to quiz the guy, your eyes darting between his, searching for understanding.

"Wha- Why do-" Angus stuttered, his already furrowed gaze growing more perturbed by the second. "Are you listening? Do you hear me at all? I need to know how you feel." Angus leaned against the sticky table, as if his intense eye contact would get the answer he wanted out of you.

"I hear you." You breathed, nerves buzzing across your entire being.

"But are you listening?"

"I can't stop you, Angus!" You finally burst. Anger pushed itself through your body until words formed against your better judgment. "If she makes you happy go for it. Hell, bring her over for dinner next Friday. It's the last one of the month."

Your friend sat obviously perplexed across from you. It was like he wanted you to tell him not to do it. But you couldn't stop Angus from living his life. You barely had control over your own these days. All you could muster up the ability to speak was a weak approval, despite the way your heart descended to your stomach.

///

"Here you are, dude." Soren handed you a coffee with a proud grin, like it was the first one he'd ever made. Your friend should've been proud, you ventured. His free spirit got the better of him years before now. He seemed to be finding his groove.

"Thanks sir. How'd you do on finals?" You really wanted to know his answer, knowing he'd worked so hard this year. Soren said he passed with flying colors. You said you knew he would. He said they'd all gotten together at Kiara's to celebrate. He said the cat came back. He said he really didn't think Angus and Claire made a good match at all. He wondered why you weren't there.

"I guess I wasn't invited. I haven't been a very good friend to Ki, lately." You shrugged. You knew you'd found yourself in this position by your own faults. But it still stung to know they'd gathered without you.

"Oh. I thought it was an Angus thing." Soren shrugged. "He was real nervous about how you'd react to his asking Claire out and all."

"Yeah." You responded, searching Soren's gaze and watching him realize another customer was coming in. He smiled a sweet smile and hurried over to his register, giving you a wave from there. You shouted a 'see ya' on your way out.

///

You slaved over your stove the night Claire was meant to join your monthly get together. This all felt like a very bad idea. But Angus was your best friend. And you really did want to support him in whatever steps he put an effort into taking, in life.

Granted the two weeks they had been together were the longest of your college career. Tom was still dead, and Kiara was still cold with you. She let you come over and accepted your apologies. But she remained despondent the whole time you stayed, clearly in her head about things. But you understood what that was like. And weren't keen to push her further.

Then your guests were here. And you felt even more like this was a very bad idea. But you played off your anxieties by deciding to pretend to be the best damn host on this side of the campus. You served Claire first and kept her glass of wine full and asked all about her life. Angus passed you several tight lipped smiles and subtle thank yous. You'd never met any girl he'd ever taken out. There had been a few, but none stuck around long enough.

You could tell Claire really liked Angus. And he definitely deserved to be adored in the way the brilliant blonde was willing to adore him. But there was just something that undeniably clashed about their pairing. Maybe it was the fact she was a few years older, sleeker, more mature. Maybe it was how callow Angus seemed at her side. Or maybe it was just you.

When the night winded down and the girl offered to help you clean up, Angus went to the bathroom. And that's when a certain veil lifted. The pantomime of the evening enjoyed its intermission when Claire toted in a couple empty glasses to your sink.

"I don't think I like you very much." She came right out with it. And not in a vindictive tone either. Just an honest one, and you respected that.

"I see." You straightened your posture.

"I mean, you seem nice enough but... I don't like you around Angus. I'm sure if I ask, you'll lie but, have you two... ever..." The woman lifted a brow, drying off a couple plates as you rinsed some others. Passing a couple utensils through the water, you considered very carefully how to respond.

"Why should it matter? If nothing ever came of it?" You quizzed, shrugging your shoulders. The blonde at your side heaved a sigh through a gentle smile, continuing to help you clean up.

"Well, at least you didn't lie."

Angus swooped into the room soon after, suggesting it was time for himself and his date to take their leave. After a few minutes of pleasantries, they started out. But not before Angus flashed you an expressive lift of his brow, curl of his lip, as Claire turned to leave. He asked so much in that one glance, a talent of his you'd always been fascinated by.

You flashed him a wide eye'd shake of your head, there was quite literally no time to talk about everything that had just happened tonight. But you hoped your face said it all just as well.

///

Soren sat across from you, hunched over his homemade lunch. You ordered a coffee from him before he took his break and scurried out to the tables to join you for a bit.

You swatted a strand of long sandy hair away from his meal and asked how he'd been. He mentioned being glad school was over for a bit. He mentioned the cat that kept showing back up at Kiara's patio door. He was convinced it was Tom, coming to visit. He knew it was crazy to think it, but he swore by his belief. He said Kiara thought he was nuts for it. He said she'd been grumpy lately anyway, cold. You selfishly hoped this meant she wasn't exclusively upset permanently with you. That she was just going through it.

"And don't even get me started on Angus and Claire." Soren scoffed, taking a bite of lunch.

"Oh, please get started."

"She's so possessive. Protective I could understand but she's possessive to a fault. He can't even bring up girls he works with, without Claire coming unglued."

Well, that explained why you hadn't heard from your very best friend in a couple very long weeks. You phoned him the day after that fateful dinner. He never answered or returned the call. You hadn't even seen his car on the campus lot, as it began to empty out. Summer had officially begun, and most everyone was graduated or off coping with the last semester before the next one kicked off.

"He says hi, by the way." Soren rolled his eyes. "Shouldn't have to be the damn messenger. Jealousy confounds me." Your friend flared his nostrils and shook his head before taking another bite of his sandwich. You couldn't help but chuckle at your usually laid-back friend's fiery disposition.

"Thanks for filling me in. Wanna share some of that cookie?" You shrugged, changing the subject. There was nothing you could do to change the way things were. There was nothing more to say. You were beginning to cope with the fact that the morning Tom died, everything changed. Everyone was different for better or for worse. Life was different now. And you were beginning to cope with that fact.

///

Today was the day of auditions. You sure as hell were not about to show up and dance. But you couldn't stop staring at your calendar- and the note you'd left there ages ago to remind yourself about try outs. A fleeting wonder crossed you mind, about showing up anyway. A fleeting consideration pressed with in you, for the outcome if you were to dance your ass off to try and earn a spot you knew you'd never land- just to have the last laugh.

When the phone started to ring, your roommate answered. But it wasn't long until she was twirling the cord closer to you, heading to take over the sofa.

"You have a competition or something today, don't you?" Angus voice crackled through the telephone line. You leaned against the kitchen counter, eyes still glued to your calendar, and huffed a laugh. What an unexpected voice to hear, cutting through your what if's, today.

"No I uh, I changed my mind." You revealed. You hadn't told anyone what happened, not really. You felt like you had more pressing issues to consider, back then. And now you weren't sure if any of it still mattered or not.

"Oh." Angus replied in a shock that nearly took you by surprise. "Well in that case, want to go see a movie?"

He was outside your dorm honking ten minutes later.

"I'm putting my shoes on, Geeze!" You hollered out the window. Angus yelled for you to hurry up, laying on his horn all over again. Your roommate started yelling soon after, demanding you get the hell out before Angus honking drove her bonkers.

"It's not my fault you called me so last minute!" You shouted, jogging to hop in his passenger seat.

"It starts in like four minutes!" Angus whined to your amazement. He was such a pain in the ass sometimes. But then you smiled and realized that you hadn't been worried about something so trivial concerning Angus in a couple months. You'd missed the hell out of this. But... why was it happening now?

"Why did you call me to invite me to a movie if you thought I had a competition today?"

"I called to wish you luck. And to apologize for not calling sooner. I've been pretty confused."

"Soren told me Claire's been a bit... territorial. You know that night at dinner while you were in the bathroom she told me she didn't like me?" You sighed a humorless laugh.

"Yeah." Angus scoffed a hopeless chuckle, breaking the speed limit all the while. You cursed at him to slow down before he went on to say, "She gave me an ear full that night too. And I wanted to respect her worries, ya know? Show her she had nothing to worry about. But then her worries turned into accusations, and the past two weeks have been constant interrogations with her. So, I broke up with her last night."

"Oh my God?"

Somehow, you actually didn't see that coming. Not so soon, anyway. Not so abruptly. While there wasn't much new information to process, the news still made your brain whir. A few billion what if's and what now's bubbled into the back of your mind while you realized the turn your evening had taken.

"I'm sorry she was rude to you. And I'm sorry I've been distant." Angus furrowed his brow and lowered his tone, speaking very seriously now. All the while he whipped his car into the movie theater parking lot and turned off the engine. "Now get out, we've already missed the previews. this is a Burt Renyolds film we're dealing with, go, go!"

"Oh my God, okay!" You hurried, slamming the car door shut. "No. Hey! Slow down it is not that serious." You remarked, following orders but refusing to jog at the speed Angus darted toward the theater doors.

Two tickets to The Longest Yard and one massive bucket of popcorn later, you were back to normal. Angus settled at your side and swatted at your hand when you reach for the popcorn at the same time as him. You plucked a kernel to toss at him in offense. He sighed and lifted a couple pieces to your lips as a silent apology. You chuckled and relaxed and thanked God for the turn of events.

You learned not to take it for granted. It could very well be the last evening of its kind you got to share with Angus. Death and dates and all kinds of reasons kept getting in the way of normalcy for the pair of you. Maybe that's what adulthood was. Maybe that was life. But so was this. And for that you were grateful.

The ride home was short, and filled with chatter about the film. And when Angus pulled into an actual covered parking space instead of haphazardly in front of your building; you felt hopeful that meant he would stick around.

"Wanna come in for a bit?" You offered, glad for the way you'd been able to banter so easily tonight. Longing to stretch out your visit, craving connection with Angus for longer than a few weeks now.

"I gotta meet up with Claire to give her some stuff back. I owe her that much." Angus stretched out his words, leaning his head against the back of the seat, turning to give you a sorry smile. You could tell he didn't want to go, not really. But he was right.

"I've just really missed you." You decidedly shrugged, looking right at him. Not even just the way he touched you that night. But his well-meaning laugh and his stories about what he'd been reading. His looks for you to decode across rooms. Him.

Angus nodded, that brooding grin of his forming across his features. He reached a hand across the bench of his front seat, tracing a finger against your thigh. You watched his hand ghost to stall on your knee- before you held out a slacked arm, scooting closer all the while. You needed him to wrap his arms around you, no matter what that meant. No matter what he felt when he did it. You needed him to.

And he did. Angus welcomed your embrace with his own, holding you tight in place for a moment before his head buried into the crook of your neck. You weren't even thinking when you moved your hands to brush his hair back. Angus moved as you did, his hold on you stayed steady, but his eye blinked up to meet yours.

And then you realized it was happening again. Your heart began to hammer, you knew he could feel it. Your brain buzzed with thoughts of only Angus. Your eye's longed to gaze more intently into his. Your hands wandered to consider the curve of his spine, the strength of his core.

"I've missed you too." Angus whispered, as his arms loosened, his hands trailing to the bend of your waist.

The kiss that followed was fierce. Your teeth clashed with Angus' and your breath caught in your throat. His fingers gripped to grab at your shirt, yanking you toward him. Your knees settled on either side of his hips. Your nails scratched along his torso before landing on his belt. It was just like before, neither of you could move fast enough. Every move seemed detrimental. But no touch lingered long enough to drive you crazy. You wouldn't let it. You needed to get to the point.

Angus picked up on your desperate pace, aiding in undoing his belt while his lips brushed along your neck. A quick shuffle of fabric was the last step to take before you were easing into Angus' lap completely as possible. You were sober enough this time to think to lock eyes as you rocked against him, shivering at the sight of Angus slack jawed enjoyment.

He let one hand brush across your cheek as his other clawed at your thigh, pulling you close as possible. You watched in awe as Angus stuttered a curse. You moved with intention, and he did too. Trailing his fingers from your face, to your chest, to the very middle of you- adding immensely to your pleasure. It was your turn to stammer curses and struggle to catch a steady breath. It wasn't long before you both reached your peak. But it felt like forever. It felt like all of time and space had collided to stall, as you shagged Angus in the front seat of his car. You relished every flame of feeling. You savored the way his eyes stayed locked with yours. You reveled in the smile that turned to corners of his lips upward. You had really missed him.

Quiet filled the car as you slinked up and away, falling into a puddle nearer the passenger seat. Angus cleared his throat, moving to fasten his trousers.

"Now what?" He asked in a hush.

"You gotta go. Right?" You shrugged. That was that. Right?

///

The Summer

Kiara followed her internship to Canada for the season. Tom was still dead. You had no dance class. You had just failed your semester. Angus and Soren had left for some wedding in New York. Not that their absence mattered much anyway. Because your best friend hadn't spoken to you since the spontaneous movie night. Since the second more profound and regrettable hook up. Not that you wished you never done it. But that you wished you would have said something different when it was over. Something that didn't make Angus jaw clench as he watched you get out of his car.

Several days passed since you'd heard from Angus. Despite the few times you'd called and the once you'd turned up at his dorm only for his roommates to shrug and say he'd been out all night. Then it was time for the New York trip.

And it seemed unstoppable, the call from your bed to stay there. You had no reason at all to get up. You had nothing to do. Nothing to think about. For days you stayed locked up in your room, completely despondent to any and everything.

Then your roommate knocked persistently enough to stir you from your den. She mentioned her flight for Japan was in a couple hours and asked for a ride to the airport. Your bones ached to move, your brain longed for a fresher perspective. So, you decidedly ended your wallowing in your own despair to slip into a change of clothes and drive to the airport.

The drive was refreshingly quiet. The blue of the sky and the air through the windows made you feel free. Made you realize you were not as trapped in that little campus as you felt. Your roommate had been fiddling with the radio dial as you'd considered the great big world beyond her dodge dart.

"Oh my God, hey!" Your roommate chirped over the crackle of a news anchors morning announcements of weather and traffic conditions. "Today is your birthday, isn't it?"

"Holy shit." You realized. "It is." you'd been so lost in the cave you created out of bed sheets that you'd almost lost track of time. Your roommate proceeded to shower you with well wishes, asking if you had any plans.

You did. Earlier in the year, Angus talked you into going out on this date, having a ball. When you'd each gone through the calendar at the start of the year, you realized each of your birthdays were on the last Friday of either month. Angus said that was too crazy to be a coincidence. He said you needed to make the most of these celebrations. But that was back when things were different.

"Not sure. After I drop your car off, I'll see where the day takes me."

"About that." Your roommate proceeded to inform you that she wasn't just visiting Japan. She'd decided last minute to move there, start anew. She had a fiancé and a place to go, and an abundance of plans. She wondered if you could leave her car for sale in the school lot and mail her the money. Lots of favors from this one today, you thought. But then...

"How much?" You wondered. Your roommate rambled about how much she paid for it, thinking of selling it for half the price now.

"I'll buy it." You blurted, surprising yourself even. You'd had funds saved up now with nothing to spend them on. You may as well had started thinking of your new path forward.

"Oh, that's right," Your roommate realized you'd been without your own transportation for a while now, and said she felt silly for not thinking to offer it to you right away. Once stalled outside the airport you wondered how much money you stashed in your wallet, finding only a couple hundred dollars. Your roommate stuck her hand out as you passed her the bills, but you were shocked when she handed you most of it back.

"Happy birthday, and thanks for the ride. It was nice bunking with you!"

In the span of a thirty-minute ride you'd been shown a kindness that filled your heart. You'd considered new sets of hope you'd never knew existed. You saw the sun. You gained a car. You turned another year older.

Driving back to campus, dread threatened to overcome you once more. But it was your birthday damn it. You had to find some way to keep yourself from slipping back into that bed of yours.

To the cafe, it was. And to your surprise, Soren was there.

"Happy birthday!" Soren smiled, arms opened wide behind the counter of his job. You chuckled and leaned across the sticky space to hug your friend. He said he'd tried to stop by your dorm this morning but no one answered. He must've arrived there as you left.

"I forgot you were meant to be back so soon." You said.

"My flight landed a couple days ago, Angus stayed to meet up with that old teacher he always talks about." Soren shrugged, going on to gush about the wedding they'd attended. And how much fun the boys had free of studies and schedules, away together. You stood there and listened, happy for Soren on one hand. Hurt by Angus absence all the while.

"Angus didn't say when he'd be back. But I swore I saw his car today. Could've just smoked too much before my shift though." Soren laughed as he poured you a coffee, free of charge. For your birthday, he insisted. You smiled and thanked your friend. Pursing your lips to suppress the surprising amount of emotion that rose within you at how kind everyone was being today. How much you didn't feel like you deserved their kindness.

"Thanks. Have a good shift, friend."

Your next stop was the market. Your cupboards were bare, you already knew. And now that you were out of your stupor, your stomach ached with hunger. Some dinner, a drink, and a little tiny cake because why the hell not. Whether you deserved everyone else's kindness, you were allowed to make the most of today, right?

The afternoon passed slowly, light turning to dark outside. You considered Soren's story, how he thought he saw Angus' car today. How there was a chance he was back on campus. With a shot in the dark, you rang his dorm with your fingers crossed. No one answered, but you couldn't be too disappointed. He was still on the East Coast, you decided. He would've stopped by today right? If he was back in town, and if he knew it was your birthday, he would've stopped by.

But then, you knew he knew it was your birthday. And night turned to morning, and he hadn't called. He would've at least called, right? If you hadn't fucked it all up, he would've. If everything hadn't changed, he should have. But all of a sudden it was four in the morning. And the slice of cake you'd saved just in case Angus came around was swiftly sent to the garbage. And the realization that everything was different was followed by the understanding that you didn't have a single thing stopping you from starting all over.

You cleaned up and found your suitcase and started throwing things in. Forming a quick plan, you found a notebook and a pen and hurriedly wrote your friends name on one side and a quick note on the other. Even though you were pissed at Angus, and hurt and confused by the turn your friendship had taken, he still deserved a goodbye.

'i dropped out. might call when i get settled someplace. here is to hoping you'll answer if i do'

It was cutting. It was short. But it was all true, and it wass the best thing you could think up, so hastily. You zipped your bags and threw them in your new back seat. You marched to Angus' dorm and slid the note under his door. You zoomed off campus and felt the weight of all that had happened fall from your chest.

You looked ahead as day light broke on the horizon, and smiled.

///

The Future

For a month, you kept your job cleaning houses, crossing the bridge to the rich neighborhoods as often as you could. You'd found a perfect little flat on the outskirts of a suburb. You even considered applying to some of the shops along the town's strip so you wouldn't have to drive as often.

You'd banked on the kindness of delivery drivers to help you move a bed and a few other furnishings into your new space. You'd decorated with mementos you'd clung to from childhood, and a couple pictures of the four greatest friends you'd ever had. When Tom was still alive, and everyone was carefree. Though all of that had ended, the photos you cherished from before brought you the same happiness you'd felt when the snapshots were taken.

You'd called Soren once or twice. To make sure someone knew you weren't dead. To make sure he was still showing up on time to work and to listen to the plot of whatever comic he was in the middle of reading. If conversation began to drift too far outside of those topics, you'd let your friend know you had to go, but promised to keep in touch.

You were just starting to feel like life made sense. You were just beginning to consider that not all hope was lost. While you were still at a loss for what to hope for, you were beginning to consider that there was a future beyond despair. Maybe it was finally time to call your best friend. Maybe you could talk to him now, without completely losing it...

You kept these thoughts at bay, not daring to let them spin your mind and soul into a depression. You pulled into a gas station, deciding only to occupy your afternoon with trivial things. With easy thoughts and simple tasks. You were allowed to do just that.

Just as you began to lose track of your thoughts in a daydream, leaned against your trunk watching the gas fill- a car screeched recklessly into the gas station lot. A woman carrying a couple of fountain sodas scurried out of the way of the boxy car and nearly dropped her beverages. A couple by standers cursed out the hapless driver as the car continued to skirt crookedly behind yours. You knew that make and model. You knew that scratched passenger door.

Oh, God.

Angus was clamoring from the driver's seat, slamming his door before he stomped up right to your face, yelling for the whole lot to hear.

"You dropped out?" Angus hissed. His dark curls bobbing as he pointed an angry finger your way. You saw a funny little rage in his gaze. And that pissed you off more than you'd already been.

"Oh, you found my note? How long did it take you?" You jabbed. "Three or four days? Week or two?"

"You can't drop out! There is only one year left!" Angus was in awe, waving his hands at you, yelling like there was a bubble between the pair of you he had to shout past to get your attention.

"I'm surprised you're aware of that. Haven't necessarily been keeping track of important dates as of late, have you?" You shot the guy a glare that could have killed him if your eyes were lasers or worse.

"Look, I know. I'm sorry. I am sorry." Angus whined your name, reaching out to grab your arm as you adjusted the gas pump from your car to its holder.

"For what?" You challenged. Because you believed he still hadn't realized how important this last time his absence had been.

"For going M.I.A. For not calling. For... everything. I have missed you, I just-" Angus sighed and cast his eyes down in shame you could feel begin to radiate from him. But ache as your heart might've for him, because it always had, you were far from done being mad.

"You've never missed my birthday before." You rose a brow, a sting filling up your chest that you had to make it so obvious to him. Angus head rose up slow, his downtrodden gaze turned into one of shock horror.

"Oh my God, no." He frowned. "No, no, no- I'm... so sorry," Angus called your name as you rolled your eyes and turned to open your car door. His please for you to stop mixed among a billion sorry's in the span of a minute. His hand stalled on your driver's door, and you stood glaring as Angus began to ramble. "Soren barely knew you'd left. He couldn't help me." Angus explained. "I went all around campus asking if you'd told anyone where you'd gone. So last resort, I drove across the bridge to Miss Julie's to ask if she'd seen you, and finally-"

Mid sentence, your brain whirred. This mother fucker drove an hour and a half across the city to ask a woman whose house you cleaned every other weekend if she'd seen you? Okay, maybe he cared more than you thought.

"And you don't call, you don't write, you leave me a vague ass note like I-"

And then you were pissed again. Because you did call. Angus was the one who left you hanging this last time.

"Angus, we are not doing this here." You swatted at him, breaking his grip on your car door. With a heavy sigh you asked him to follow you to your new little flat. Where you could yell all night long without a lot full of strangers gawking at the pair of you.

Your grip was white knuckled the whole drive home. Your heart was in your throat. There was no getting out of whatever confrontation that laid ahead with you and Angus. This was it.

You parked in your usual spot and marched toward the apartments to the tune of Angus slamming his door. You reached your home in a couple of turns, unlocking the door, and letting it swing open behind you. Angus slithered in as you hurried inside, straight for the bottle of rum on your counter. Finding two glasses in the cupboard, Angus stalled in the middle of your living space and decidedly went on where he left off.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me about dropping out?" He called your name. His voice was softer than it had been at the gas pump. But his tone was more desperate. You took a sip of your drink, and slid his toward the end of the counter, locking eyes. You moved closer toward where he stood as Angus went on. "Why the hell didn't you tell me what happened with that dance instructor. Shit, you barely told Soren. But he knew. Why won't you talk to me?" Angus brought a hand to his middle, like he was holding in everything from spilling over. His usual brooding expression was downcast more than usual. His hair a little longer. His eyes still your favorite pair. You had really missed Angus.

"I don't know Angus! I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me. I tried so hard to pass finals and I failed harder the more I tried. I gave everything I had to that dance class, and it blew up in my face. And then you... us... I couldn't afford to fuck up anymore. I had to go." You spoke, emotion raising in your voice as you stood sweeping a hand to gesture as you explained.

"You didn't fuck everything up. You can still take summer classes. You can fix it. You can find a new dance class. And I... you didn't fuck us up." Angus declared, speaking clearly but wearing a look as if he may have been unsure of himself. You watched as your friend took a few steps toward the drink you poured him. In the matter of a moment, his taste of rum was gone, and he was shamelessly reaching for the bottle to pour another drink.

"What if what I want doesn't matter?" You started, as he poured. "I tried so hard to pass and I failed. I tried so hard to dance and none of my practicing mattered more than a sexual favor would've. What if... what if I want you? What will the catch be? Because there seems to always be one, with me." You'd never been more clear.

"Look I wasn't sure what we were going through at first." Angus sighed after sipping his second drink. And then he took a moment to glance about the room, seeming to decide something. "But then I went to that wedding, and I realized exactly what I wanted and how I felt. It's still confusing, you and me. But I want there to be a you and me, okay?" He seemed to mean it. He seemed to really mean what he said. But there was still a look of unnerve painted across his features.

"Angus you forgot my birthday." You reminded, downing the rest of your drink. Cocking his head sorrily, Angus reached for the rest of his rum.

"I know." He said. "And I'm sorry. I was late getting back into town." Angus sighed. "And my mother was in my dorm room when I got back, imagine that surprise-"

"Your mom?" You gasped. In the entire three and a half years you knew Angus, he'd only spoken about the woman twice, and spoken on the phone with her once. She'd never come to visit. As you processed this information you watched Angus' jaw clench, his teeth dig into his lip, his brow darken.

"Yeah, so my dad... he, uh-" Angus blinked up to the ceiling, unable to hide the tremble in his voice.

"Angus, no."

"I tried to visit him when I was out there, after I met up with Paul. But when I asked to see my dad they said he'd been moved out of the facility for months, moved to some hospital, no one could remember which. And then my flight... And she didn't even tell me he'd been sick. She refused a funeral. And I never even got to say goodbye." Angus spoke like every word tore at his throat. Tears pooled in his eyes, falling when they filled up too much.

"Why didn't you start with that?" You rang, unable to comprehend how so much loss and hurt could continue to reign over this year. You stepped forward to reach for Angus, grabbing at his arms and moving to smooth back his hair, wiping away the tear drop he missed with his sleeve.

"Because" Angus implored, shockingly ready with an answer. "This has been way too confusing for way too long and I couldn't keep it in any longer." He waved at the space that existed between you and himself, keeping his bloodshot brown eyes lasered to yours all the while. "If I want you, and if you want me, then what's stopping this from happening for us?"

"Because," You began, deciding in this moment to be brutally honest. The most honest you'd been all year. "I'm scared."

Angus shook his head, rejecting your reasoning.

"You don't think I'm fucking scared too?" He huffed like it was obvious. But it hadn't been to you. "I love you. And that's terrifying. I'm in love with you. Enough to wait for you to say it back, if you want to. But you better only decide against this if you don't want it. You can't let this pass us by just because you're scared."

You struggled to hold back the tears springing into your eyes. You struggle to croak out any response that wasn't a curse. You struggled to wrap your mind around all that had been said. You couldn't help but let a sob escape, too overwhelmed by it all.

And then Angus was crying too, really crying. There was no reason left to hold back, to keep emotions locked down. Everything was out in the open now. Every tattered heartbroken truth had been shared. And there was nothing you could do to make it all better, no way to make sense of it in a flash. But you knew you could wrap your arms around Angus and hold on for dear life.

When his lips met the crown of your head, you were reminded of every time he'd done so before. You were reminded of every late-night pub crawl and bad first date and mean teacher. You remembered every weekend road trip, every movie night in, every homemade dinner. And then you thought of now. You thought of all the hurt. You thought of all the tension and all the grief and all the looks across rooms shared with Angus. You hadn't a clue how to move ahead with him. You wanted to move ahead, but you just couldn't see how.

You began to push away. You shouldered out from Angus' hold on you and wiped at your eyes with a sleeve. You, gently as possible, moved his hand that clung to your side still.

"Don't do that. Don't shut me out again." Angus implored; voice still wrought. Eye's still bright with sadness.

"I know it's not what you want but I don't have any other answer for you right now. I'm sorry about everything too, Angus. I'm so sorry about your dad. But I can't- I don't know. Not yet." You sniffled.

"This didn't go how I hoped." Angus released a heavy sigh, turning to pace before your kitchen counter. "But I'm gonna do what I said." He pointed at you. "I'm gonna wait and hope you'll give me a chance. I just need to make it clear that I don't want any version of my future to be without you in it. So... whatever you decide... I just love you okay? Do you hear me?" Angus rang. Then you remembered how he asked that same question at the diner.

"I'm listening. And I hear you. And I'm sorry. Just... give me more time."

Angus left that afternoon with a grin when you asked him to stop back again in a couple days. And you went to bed that night in tears, happy or sad you weren't sure.

///

A few months had passed since Angus appeared out of nowhere and berated you in the gas station parking lot. He was starting his final year of school. He stopped over most Fridays, and some nights in between. Sometimes Soren came with him, and you'd all stay up past midnight cackling like a band of fools. You'd sent Kiara your new address, and she sent some post cards from Canada. The messages she included were never very long, but she always signed her name with a heart dotting the I.

On the weekends Angus hung around, he mentioned missing Tom. He mentioned wishing he didn't have to miss Kiara too. Wishing for one more night all together. When Angus hung around, he talked a lot about his studies and the stories from the history books he'd been learning. When he hung around, he'd sometimes end up staying the night. When he left the mornings after, he'd always end up coming back around.

You kept cleaning houses. You kept those old pictures hung up like trophies. You wondered about finding a new dance studio on this side of town. But you weren't sure if you were ready. So, all things considered, you went to that little cafe on your old campus to find a friend for lunch.

"So, I went to Claires house yesterday." Soren began his story with a wry grin, unwrapping his meal from home. The coffee shop was busier than usual, full of students new to campus and ones eager to leave. "I asked her if that cat still hung around. Long story short she said if I could catch him, I could keep him. So I went to the gas station on the corner and bought a bag of jerky. Set up a little trail from the fence to the patio. It was about an hour before the little guy showed up. He didn't even go for the jerky he just came right up to me and let me pick him up!"

Soren went on to explain how easy it was to take the cat home and how soundly the pet had been sleeping in his window sill. You laughed and beamed and felt glad for the outcome on your friend's behalf. You couldn't imagine the basket case he'd have become if the cat fought his capture.

The cafe began to crowd with more people, somehow, standing between tables that all filled up with patrons. Soren sighed and rushed to finish his food, knowing they'd want his help the busier business got.

"We really need to meet up sometime when it's not your break." You mentioned. He nodded, sharing part of his dessert like he always did.

"Do you always bring your lunch? I never see you order here." You realized, suddenly. Besides coffee, there were some reasonably decent snacks the cafe had to offer. But Soren never seemed to indulge.

"I don't even like coffee, man."

You laughed and wondered why the hell he worked here then.

"It's the first job that called me back after an interview. It's the job that got me out of debt. I love it here. Everything comes full circle, ya know?" Soren explained, but you asked him to go on still.

"It's like with Tom. He died, man. But that little grey cat that ate the flowers we planted for Tom lets me feed him fast food every night. You can't convince me that's not my friend. He came back." Soren waved a hand, as if to rope his next point in with the one he'd just made. "I needed money, I got a job and made enough to pay off my debt and enough to pack my own lunches every day. Everything we want is already ours. If it doesn't happen one time it'll happen another. It's all a big circle."

Somehow, a light switched on in your brain. Somehow, everything you'd been worried about didn't feel so heavily weighed on your chest. Somehow, you had an answer for Angus.

"Soren, you brilliant hippie freak." You gawked at your friend in awe as he rushed to take one last bite of the sandwich he'd brought. Soren was hurrying to stand, hurrying to get back to work. And you were suddenly in a rush too, now that everything clicked. With a quick hug goodbye, you darted for the shop doors, excusing yourself through a crowd of grumpy college students eagerly awaiting their caffeine fix.

///

Your home was quiet, the good kind. Stillness welcomed you as your thoughts continued to align in place for what felt like the first time in your entire life. Your brain was free of cluttered worries. Your heart was beating at a steady pace. It was all clicking. And you even still had a couple hours to make a decent dinner for two.

Angus arrived when he said he would, bursting in the door with complaints of teachers who were bad at their jobs and students who were too dumb to care. You laughed and listened and set a place at your table for him. Over dinner, you talked about considering dancing again. Angus encouraged you. He talked about taking a year after graduating to relax. You said he should. You each helped clean up easily and welcomed the quiet together.

You each floated to the couch afterward like you were used too by now. You let the telly play whatever was on, and relaxed under the weight of your best friends arm that laid over your shoulders.

"Angus..." You decided, grabbing his attention as both of your eyes stayed glued to the actor on the screen. Your friend hummed in response.

"I miss the way everything was before." You admitted. You missed your friends, the nights you all spent as a group. You missed the life you'd had worked out for yourself back then. You noticed Angus had turned his head to face you, his brows lifted as if to display sympathy. His grief free to reveal itself for a moment. Angus' almond eyes floated from his lap to meet yours as you shot him a pursed shrug.

"It scares me that this is what life has played out like." You went on, watching Angus watch you speak. His eyes landed on your lips. His voice was a whisper when he asked you to go on.

"What if we keep changing?" You implored, nodding toward Angus as his gaze danced from your eyes to your mouth. "If we fall in love I want it to stay that way. I can't have you be my next great disaster. I'd rather keep you at a distance than dare to let you break my heart somehow." You revealed.

Angus rose his hand to brush across your face. He let his fingers find your hair and curl among the strands.

"We've already lost a bit of what we were before, haven't we?" You begged for clarification, validation, mutual understanding. If you were gonna let him in, you needed Angus to remember all the reasons you'd been weary to do so, up till now. You needed to make sure his mind hadn't locked onto worry and changed.

He was pressing a gentle kiss to your lips then. A simple soft gesture that lingered with intention.

"Why does it have to be lost? Why can't it just be changed for the better?" Your friend wondered, his voice low, his presence before you whole and consistent as ever. You'd heard enough to shut up and kiss him back. And then it was happening, what usually happened when Angus kissed you. Your heart hammered and your brain latched onto thoughts of only him and your hands gripped to pull him close.

Angus dragged you to bed, something that had happened a few times here, in this new reality. You did all the things there that you had done before. You marveled over how Angus held you and cared for you and stared at you with undeniable adoration.

And after a while, when you'd both done all you could do, you laid there still. In the low lamp light, you stayed tangled up with Angus, running fingers through his hair and listening to his heartbeat. And you talked about what compelled each of you to kiss in the first place. You talked about how you felt the night he shagged you on the guest bedroom floor. He talked about how overwhelmed he was when you boned him in the front seat of his car. You collectively wondered how different things might've turned out if Tom didn't die. If school went better. What life would look like now, if things were different.

"I don't know. I've been worried that I don't have control over anything. Like my whole life has just happened to me. What if that's like... my curse?" You sighed, staring up at the amber glow from your bed side lamp.

"I've been where you are, before. When I met Paul. And one night he told me 'your history doesn't have to define your destiny.' And that rocked my world, man." Angus lamented. "I wish I could explain it all away for you just as easy. But all I can do is wait, and hope something clicks for you. Wait and hope you'll see something good enough in me to let me prove it to you. That's what love is, isn't it? Or could be?"

"Yeah. It already clicked for me." You revealed. It was time. It was easy to admit. It was true. Angus hummed as a plea for clarity, tapping his finger against your temple out of habit, you assumed.

"It already clicked for me. That can be what love is. We can be in love and scared about it together." You said.

The room filled with a quiet you were familiar with. Angus laid still beneath you. Until finally he spoke up.

"You mean that?"

Soren said that everything you may have wanted in life was already yours. And some how that made sense. No matter that Tom died, he was your friend. Nothing could change that fact. Kiara had been so distant, but she was writing to you. She came back. Soren caught the cat. And Angus laid in your bed. And no matter what had happened before, he was here now, and you didn't want to take that for granted out of fear it might all slip away.

With a grin and a nod, you shifted to meet Angus' almond eyes. His were hazy under his brooding brow. You were glad you didn't have to miss him anymore. He was all yours. You'd always belonged to him whether you realized it or not. And nothing was going to change that.

///

That holiday season you joined Angus on a trip to the East Coast. He made fun of you for being so cold but shared his jackets all the while. Angus took you to all the places his dad used to like. You helped him hold a memorial his mother denied planning, and neither of you mentioned her at all.

You sat beside him in a cab, watching a steady snow fall collect along the sidewalks. You were on your way to meet your boyfriend's favorite old teacher. You planned to tell him all about Tom. In fact, you had a lot of plans that featured Angus these days. And he, with you. And of that you were very happily certain.

#dominic sessa #dominic sessa x reader #angus tully #angus tully x reader #angus tully x fem!reader #dominic sessa x fem!reader #the holdovers #minors dni

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delfiore · 1 year ago

Text

—MY DEAREST FRIEND AND ENEMY. (2/5)

pairing: ona batlle x fem!reader

synopsis: you and ona become much closer, but in the wrong way; an offer on the horizon threatens to tear you apart.

word count: 3.7k

warnings: description of collision in football

PART I, PART III, PART IV, PART V

Sports Illustrated: USWNT International Y/N Y/L/N Scores in First Game Back From Injury “Y/N Y/L/N will not stop scoring. The Man City star returns to action with a stunning header in a home game against Everton since picking up an injury this summer in the CONCACAF final against Canada. Though the U.S. emerged victorious thanks to Alex Morgan’s penalty kick, Y/L/N was forced off in the 68th minute with a torn hamstring. She was expected to be sidelined for 3 months. […]”

You skimmed through the article, waiting for your coffee to brew. It has been an arduous few months as you focused on rehabilitation. You were supposed to be match-fit at the start of the season, but the physios determined you needed at least a few more weeks before you could play. Your thigh still felt a bit tight every time you stretched them. Nonetheless, you were back to playing, that was all that mattered.

It was early November, and the winds were picking up in Manchester, and yet you were warm.

“Morning,” you said, smiling at the figure waddling into the living room.

Bratwurst was wagging his tail by her side, no doubt looking for more food as if you hadn’t fed him half an hour ago.

“Good morning,” Ona said, rubbing her eyes.

“Coffee?” You nodded towards the machine.

“No, I have to get to training. Thanks, though.”

“In my shirt?” You smirked at looked down at her top. Sure enough, it was the old T-shirt you lent her after you were done last night.

“Hah hah.” She mocked you, but then took off the shirt, leaving her top half completely bare, and threw it at your face. “Obviously not.”

You let your eyes travel freely, as she went back into your room and returned wearing the clothes she came in last night.

“Looks like you’re back to being your insufferable self.” She walked to where you sat, putting on her necklace. “Can’t even go on social media without seeing people praising your goal.”

“All in a day’s work,” you said, grinning.

Ona rolled her eyes and put on her shoes. “I’m glad you’re back, but I won’t go easy on you.”

You stood up and pecked her lips.

“I never asked you to,” you leaned closer, ducking your face into her neck. “Maybe when we’re alone.”

She snickered quietly and patted your cheek. “Try not to miss me too much. Bye-bye, Bratwurst.”

The pup sat by the door as he watched her close it behind her. Ever since she started spending time at your apartment, it felt like he liked her more, always following her around and snuggling with her as she gave him pets.

Ona had been coming over since the kiss at the end of last season with the premise of meaningless sex. You both had an arrangement, and you were committed to keeping to it. You were surprised when she suggested it, thinking her not to be the type, but Ona continues to surprise you.

You had only meant to meet up over dinner to talk about what happened, but the night ended with her hands tangled in your hair and your legs tangled in her sheets. The ups and downs these past few months never deterred you from seeing each other. In fact, Spain losing out in the Euros prompted her to come over and forget about it for a night. In a way, you both had each other.

Your teammates at Man City were especially amused whenever you’d forget to cover up and come to practice with marks on your neck.

“Who’s the unlucky gal this time, Y/N?”

“Have you been busy while you were injured?”

Every time, you would just shake your head with a grin because you’d never kiss and tell. Also, because Leila and Laia would flip out if they knew you’d been screwing their teammate on the national team.

Your arrangement worked for a while, both of you still too young and too committed to football to think about anything else. While a lot of your colleagues would disagree, it was the excuse you told yourself to fully admit that what you felt for Ona was beyond just carnal desires.

You were treading on dangerous waters, your feelings bubbling to the surface every time you saw the girl. It was much more challenging to keep them under wraps, especially when you had to play against her every couple of months. From what people knew about you two, you were rivals, and that was your relationship. Rumors of a romance surfaced too, amongst younger fans, but it was the result of baseless shipping. If only they knew.

Ona wasn’t an incredibly affectionate person, not by a mile. The only times you would catch her lowering her guard by the tiniest of margins were when she was tired, maybe then she’d let you cuddle her after sex. But you remembered when Spain was knocked out of the Euros way too soon, and she was crying on the phone to you. You had just won the CONCACAF with the US across the Atlantic, and yet all you wanted was to hold her.

And so that was what you did. Two days later, after you were dismissed from your international duties, you flew back to Manchester and waited for her. Ona liked to be the little spoon whenever she was sad, and you were very happy to oblige. If she was feeling generous, she would even thank you for it. As much as you wanted to, you never teased her about it, because you knew what you had was fragile, and a slight mention of it could topple everything to the ground.

That was how it was with your Spanish beauty.

“Wooooooow . . . You’ve got a handful,” said your teammate, Chloe, as she stood in your kitchen, eating your chips.

“Yup,” you pressed your lips thinly, grabbing some seasoning from the cupboard. “That’s my life right now.”

You proceeded to tell Chloe everything one day, omitting a few saucy details, of course.

“Have you tried talking to her about it?”

“That’s the thing, though. There’s nothing to talk about. I can’t just walk up to her and demand something that wasn’t part of the arrangement to begin with.”

“I know, but it’s clearly affecting you. You like her, don’t you?”

“No.” A few seconds of silence followed, and Chloe was looking at you with a glare. “Okay, I think she’s cute, like, really cute.”

“I think you should talk to her, Y/N,” Chloe said. “Worst case scenario, you lot stop whatever you’re doing with each other behind all of our backs. Best case scenario, you date her.”

You smirked, but nothing no usual quippy or smug remark came out. “I should try,” you spoke quietly.

Chloe nodded expectantly and continued eating her chips, now. “I can’t believe it. You tricked all of us! It was Batlle all this time!”

“I didn’t think you’d come tonight,” you whispered quietly into the room, sitting by the edge of your bed.

Ona was under the covers, on her phone. “Why? ‘Cause we played against each other?”

You nodded bashfully.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” she set her phone down. “Or did you not want me to come?”

“It’s a little too late for that, don’t you think?” You said, gesturing at the clothes strewn on the floor.

You let her study you for a moment, finding the ruffled sheets much more interesting instead.

“What’s wrong?” She said.

“Nothing.”

“You’re too quiet.” Her voice was low and calming. She reached out and caressed your hand. You wanted to bury your face in her neck and be done with the conversation instead.

“I was just wondering . . . would you like to come over a bit earlier from now on?”

Your question made her look at you with a puzzled expression. “Have I been staying too late?”

“No, no. I mean—you can stay as late as you want, but come a bit earlier. I can cook for us, and then we can just sit and . . . talk.”

You fumbled with your fingers, your eyes drifting up to her, seeing the realization dawn on her. She exhaled. “Okay, that sounds nice . . . but as friends, right?”

“Um . . . no?”

“Y/N,” Ona breathed. Her silence was killing you. Finally, she looked up. “That wasn’t our arrangement, and I’d like for it to stay as we’ve agreed. You’re okay with that, right?”

“Yeah,” you lied, caressing her arm and flashing a smile. “It’s for the best.”

She nodded but watched you closely. “Come here,” she whispered.

You obliged, letting her pull you into her embrace. A searing kiss followed, leaving you to straddle her bare waist.

A short gasp left your lips. “Fuck me, Ona.” You pleaded quietly, hoping she’d fuck you until you forget the conversation ever happened. But you also hoped she’d go slow and make love to you, proving that she’d finally reciprocated your feelings.

You’ve decided that you wanted both. Maybe then, you’d finally get what you wanted.

You didn’t know that Ona was scared to let you in too, so she settled for sleeping with you.

You had been an obsession of hers for three years, a game she played besides having to focus on the actual game she was paid to play. But now, here she was—sleeping with someone who could possibly be her mortal enemy. She didn’t know when, but suddenly, she couldn’t bring herself to see you harmed.

She wanted you, but that was the selfish part of her speaking.

In the morning, you had expected her to be there, but your bedside was empty.

Ona moved through her days like a ghost. She didn’t expect it to be this hard three years ago when she first set foot in Manchester. She didn’t expect a forward to make her life this hard, or that she would fall in love with you. Every minute she spent tangled up in bed with you were minutes where nothing else outside that bedroom mattered, and it scared her.

It scared her that only you could make her feel that way, that something she had spent so hard working towards for herself, you did so easily for her.

She thinks of the nights after the Euros when she practically stayed over all day, and how you took care of her. She thinks of the cheeky winks you would send her way whenever she played against you, and the not-so-innocent brushes that you sneak in whenever she defended you. She think of your face when she shut you down, and how quickly your walls came back up.

She thinks of you the entire time she was on the Zoom call with her agent.

“You need to decide soon, Ona,” her agent had told her. “Barcelona doesn’t wait for anyone.”

It was a no-brainer, but she thinks of you all the time.

The referee blew the whistle and the 90 minutes were over. You collapsed on your knees as the Etihad erupted into cheers. Man City had reached the semifinals of the Women’s Champions League for the first time ever in the history of the women’s club. You would be playing Wolfsburg next, but you couldn’t care less about that right then. You just wanted to celebrate with your teammates.

You wished that you could celebrate with Ona too.

You sent her a text much later in the night, but she didn’t respond. Thinking it to be too late for her to come over, you went to bed, soaking in your victory.

But then, she didn’t respond the next day, then the day after that. A week later, she still hadn’t responded. Then the first leg of the semifinal came, and City drew 2-2 to Wolfsburg. You had given her space to deal with whatever she didn’t want you to know and knew double-texting made you look desperate, but you have had enough of the silence.

A vote of confidence would have been nice Sent 4:29pm

Nothing.

You weren’t going to put your life on hold for her. You wouldn’t give her that satisfaction.

The week of the return leg, you had almost forgotten all about Ona from the amount of training you were doing.

“Okay, ladies. Gather around,” said Chris, the assistant coach. “This will be our last practice session before the Champions League game. We’re gonna do some passing to start with, then a set-piece practice, and we’ll close off with a 5v5 scrimmage. That sound good?”

You were starting to feel more confident than jittery. Your movements were sure and steady, so were your finishes. Big games never deterred you, but it was the added fact of Ona not responding to your text that caused you to check your phone every time you were able to.

“No phones, Y/N,” Chris said, and raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry, Coach. Just checking news from family,” you lied. He extended his hand anyway, and you begrudgingly handed your phone over.

“I can’t have you distracted, Y/N. The match is tomorrow.”

“I know, I know. I’ve been good, though, haven’t I?” You grinned, taking a swig of water.

Practice ended later than scheduled, but you didn’t mind. You needed the extra preparation, and you were glad to have done that with your teammates. Chris finally gave you your phone back, like a naughty student, and you quickly checked your messages. Still nothing. It wasn’t like this was the biggest game of your life or anything.

Going to the news, flipping through articles upon articles on politics, your eyes landed on one about sports.

The Busby Babe: Ona Batlle Set For Barcelona Return “Manchester United and Spain star right back Ona Batlle is reportedly on the verge of completing a move back to Catalonia, rejoining Barcelona Femeni at the end of her contract with the Red Devils. […]”

The match of your life started. You were on the left wing as you always were, playing inverted so Laia would be running the flank. You scored one, but Wolfsburg got one back towards the end of the first half.

“Make those runs, ladies. If you see them coming at you, call out to your teammates. Use the third man to break free of the defense.” Gareth pointed at the board, showing hypothetical scenarios that the team could exploit for an opening.

“Hey,” Chloe sat next to you, her forehead glistening. “You alright?”

You uttered a small ‘yeah’ and closed your hand over her sweat-clad one over your knee. You couldn’t be distracted. You owed it to Chloe and everyone else on this team.

You were slamming your fist on the door, but you didn’t care. Your jaw clenched as you swayed on your feet waiting for her to open up.

“What the fuck, Y/N?!”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You stepped into her apartment.

Her face went pale. “How did you know?”

You let out a laugh. “You’re pathetic. You’re a coward for not even saying a single word.”

The ball was sent over long from deep aiming towards you. You called for Filippa for a one-two, but once you dribbled, you were tackled inside the box. You put your hand up at the referee but huffed in disbelief when she only shook her head and granted a corner.

Slapping your hand on the grass, you sprung up with a grunt. It must have looked like you were throwing a tantrum, but you couldn’t care less, you wanted to win.

“I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“So you were just not gonna say anything at all?! You owe me that much to—”

“I don’t owe you anything, Y/N.” She snapped. She had never snapped at you before, not while off the pitch. “You know what we have is just sex. That’s all we ever had and that’s all we will ever have.”

Tears formed in your eyes. You felt like a kid again, being scolded and taken for granted. “Please, don’t do this.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but this isn’t some fantasyland,” Ona said firmly. “I told you what I wanted, and I thought you agreed.”

There was a period of struggle over the ball soon after, mostly in midfield. You were growing increasingly frustrated as passes continued being cut off just before they reached the attacking third.

“Come on, guys! Let’s finish this!” You called out to your teammates in an attempt to hype them up before a throw-in.

Your irritation mounted, but you told yourself to quickly snap out of it. I need to stay calm, my team needs me. It proved quite difficult when Lena Oberdorf slithered up from behind to mark you. She dug an elbow into your back to keep you at bay, and when you moved, she moved. So you pushed back, much harder than you anticipated. It set her off. Good, stay off me.

Soon, you heard the ref’s hurried whistle, as Lena shoved you back. “The fuck are you pushing for?!” Your opponent seethed, getting all up in your face to challenge you.

You were feeling bold, so you smirked at her. “Come closer, see what I’ll do. Or do you just want a piece of this, huh?”

It wasn’t your best quality, you admitted it, but you liked it when you set off an opponent. You didn’t care when Lena was hurling insults at you in German as she was being led away. What mattered was that you had gotten in her head, and it would be much easier to break her defense from now on. The referee blew her whistle again, and a few teammates of yours attempted to separate you from Lena.

“Sei ruhig, Mann. Bleib’ da drüben.” Be quiet, man. Stay over there. Waving at her dismissively, you saw the way her eyes looked like they would pop out of her sockets in fury, knowing she didn’t expect you to know German. You couldn’t help but feel a sick sense of satisfaction.

“Last warning, Y/L/N.” The referee warned before continuing the match.

There would always be one player that completely drove the opposition crazy, and you would gladly be that asshole, so your teammates wouldn’t have to. You wanted to win.

“You kissed me first. I thought . . .”

“Please, don’t make this any harder than it already is,” Ona said quietly.

“I thought we had something, Ona,” you tried to steady your voice. You knew you sounded pathetic, but you never believed Ona could betray you in such a way.

She only pressed her lips thin. “We don’t. The only thing we have is our arrangement and however you feel about me on the pitch.”

Bunny scored in the 75th minute, and that would be the last goal for City in this match. The game went to extra time, and you could feel your teammates getting tired and sloppy in possession. You were tired too, but you wanted to keep fighting, anything to keep the thought of Ona out of your head.

You were so focused on the ball that you didn’t see a defender coming up beside you, her body colliding with yours in an attempt to redirect the ball. You fell to the ground with a thud, the stinging impact beginning to spread across your back. You felt the wind getting knocked out of you, your vision beginning to fade until all you could see were the lights atop the stadium, until those faded too.

The next thing you knew, you were on your side. Then the uncomfortable pain in your gut started to become more apparent, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe anymore. You gasped for air, just as a couple of your teammates knelt beside you.

“Y/N, can you hear me? Medic!” You heard a voice almost like Demi’s call out.

You didn’t know who knocked into you, you didn’t care anymore, because you had the overwhelming urge to throw up whilst still struggling to breathe.

“Can’t . . . breathe,” you wheezed out, tears starting to fill your eyes. You wanted to go home.

One of the medics shone a flashlight in your eyes. “Pupils are PEARL,” she said. “Okay, I need you to try and take deep breaths for me, alright, darling?”

You drew a shaky breath. There was a wheezing noise, in and out. In and out. The more you did, the easier it got. Your head was dizzy when you stood up, just as you heard applause ringing throughout the stadium.

Chloe appeared in front of you and offered her arm while a medic took your other as you walked toward the sideline.

“You’re alright, love,” she flashed you a warm smile and wiped away the stray tear that lingered on your cheek.

It was much too unfortunate, because you still had a lot more to give, but you were done for the night. Gareth knew it too, so he sent Hempo in to take your place.

You finally let the tears fall freely when the final whistle came.

“When do you leave?”

“In two weeks.”

A scornful laugh escaped you that you didn’t even bother to hide. “You didn’t even have the decency to tell me, not as your booty call, but as your friend.”

But you were kidding yourself. You knew Ona and you were never friends, never quite lovers either. Only two people floating around in a sexual limbo who were too scared to admit to themselves what was right in front of them. Now she was leaving, and you would never get the chance.

It didn’t matter anymore, any of it. You had a Champions League semifinal to play.

ESPN: Wolfsburg Grabs Victory in Extra Time to Reach Women’s Champions League Final “[…]”

a/n: it was so heartwarming to see the support for jenni and the players :’) it’s abt fuckin time man let’s hope this continues until rubiales and vilda’s resignation

#ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine #ona batlle imagines #ona batlle angst #ona batlle #woso

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sc0tters · 1 year ago

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His Girl | Nico Hischier

summary: it’s your one year anniversary when you and Nico are all nervous but for totally different reasons.

song: Paper Rings - Taylor Swift

request: yes/no

warnings: allusions to drinking.

word count: 1.64k

authors note: fluff is officially not my strong suit but I’ve really enjoyed writing these marriage repeated pieces for the celly! This literally aged like wine as I wrote it, started off shit but by the end we got somewhere good.

It was the only time you were grateful to be dragged to a club.

It was a warm summer night in London as your friends had gone for a girls trip. So of course they were all making the most of it.

Somehow on the fourth night your friends hadn’t gotten tired of the partying that they endured every evening as they went out clubbing. You seemed to miss that memo so you were brought along despite the complaints that left your lips. Those all quickly went silent when you locked eyes with him.

Nico much like yourself had been brought along and was now sat at the table as he nursed his drink.

That might neither one of you seemed to leave the others side. You didn’t know who he was until you went to the bar and overheard some fellow American tourists that the Swiss man you had grown so comfortable talking to wasn’t just Nico, he was Nico Hischier of the New Jersey Devils. Now you weren’t a hockey fan despite being from New York, but with your knowledge of both baseball and football you could only assume that it was a hockey team because New Jersey simply didn’t sound like a state that was going to produce a basketball team.

Nico had given you his number before your friends were ready to finally head back to your hotel. That night you turned google into your best friend in an attempt to learn more about the man who was clearly the man of your dreams.

Yes it sounded over reactive but it was the truth. Nico was someone who you truly just gelled with, the conversation rolled on for hours but it only seemed like it was minutes.

Throughout all of your life, you had never met someone who made you smile so much that your cheeks hurt, laughed so much that you didn’t think you could breathe anymore.

Arriving back in New York the pull the hockey player had in your mind hadn’t let up, whilst there were the worries that the number Nico had given you was fake your friends had quickly cleared your mind because “he looked at you like you were the only girl in that bar.”

Nico had gone back to Switzerland as he still had another month before he needed to be in New Jersey. The time difference was what he blamed your lack of communication on, you were going home two days after the night in that bar.

Although he knew it was stupid that didn’t stop him from checking his phone every time he heard a notification come in. That was why when your message finally came in the Devils captain almost fell over his own two feet.

you: hey stranger! next time you’re in New York let me know and I’ll give you the local tour 😉

And that was happened, Nico flew into JFK and found himself stood at your door with a smile on his face and your favourite flowers in hand.

Three months later when he was back but this time for hockey. Or at least that’s what he told himself because when you showed up at the Islanders game in his Jersey.

You pulled Nico into your arms as you congratulated him “you see that goal I scored for you?” He asked as he sent you a grin.

It was a clear shot done in a power play and all Nico could do was skate to the board where you were as he pointed at you.

Twitter was having a field day trying to figure out who you were and what you were to Nico “of course baby,” you nodded as you placed a kiss on his cheek.

You continued to toe the line or flirtation because no matter how much you wanted him, the fear of rejection was like a mental block that you couldn’t get past.

But when Nico hooked his fingers under your chin it caused your knees to almost give out “let me come back to yours?” That phrase had your mind combusting as you felt like you had just exploded into sparkles and confetti.

That night he asked you out.

The first year of your relationship was just as good as you had predicted. You had been given the name of team mom as the younger boys of the team would call Nico late at night just to ask you questions. They ranged with everything from girl advice to how you iron a shirt.

You ironed Jacks shirt for him and that also added to your title, you also had to take him dress shoe shopping but that was something you had been sworn to secrecy about.

It made Nico laugh how most times after games you seemed more proud of the other boys just playing because “their milestones mattered too.”

When the team made the playoffs for a second year in a row was when Nico told you he loved you. It was at the celebratory party when you walked outside for air “schatzi you okay?” Nico called out as he quickly found you where you were.

A smile formed on your lips “I’m perfect,” you spoke softly as your drunk boyfriend placed his hand on your waist.

His dopey grin made you laugh “I love you,” he confessed as he let your body rest against the wall behind you.

You let your fingers massage the nape of his neck “tell me that in the morning,” you reminded him as the liquor in his system was clear “no, no I love you baby.” The hockey player repeated his confession in his efforts to show that he was serious “I love you too,” a giggle left your lips as you kissed him.

A couple of months later and your one year anniversary had finally come around and you were stressed out.

Jack had been enlisted to keep you away from the apartment as Nico had a surprise that he was working.

It made you breathe out a sigh of relief though as you truly had no clue what to get Nico, even on the day of your anniversary you still didn’t know.

If Nico were to go into your closet and look behind your coats he’d find the six gifts you got, not because you wanted to go over board but because you really didn’t have a clue what you get the man who is literally the captain of a hockey team for their anniversary?

Sure Nico was romantic, bring home flowers when you had bad days at work, leaving sticky notes of little messages whenever he went on road trips longer than a week.

There would have been some comfort to you if Jack actually let you know how Nico felt as he ran around New Jersey.

In the last minute he decided that his design of your apartment wasn’t up to a standard that you’d enjoy and that’s what brought him to IKEA as he went to find fairy lights.

When Jack got the green light to bring you back you almost jumped out of the car when it was still moving “don’t me an uncle just yet!” Jack called out as he winded down the passenger window.

You turned around as grinned “no promises!” You shot back as you sent him a salute before you practically ran into the apartment building.

If you weren’t on the penthouse level you would have ran up the stairs, but instead you waited for the elevator.

The walk that was more like a speed walk to your apartment had your palms growing sweaty. You let the door open and your jaw practically dropped as you saw the way the dim fairy lights and candles that lit up your apartment “schatzi in the living room!” Nico called out as he took a last deep breath before he made sure he still had the box.

Tears welled in your eyes as you saw him down on one knee “when I first saw you in that pub I knew you were the woman of my dreams.” The guys that Nico went to England with didn’t let him live it down that his mind had been trapped in the view of you. Every time he zoned out they all knew what or who he was thinking about.

Nico’s speech continued even causing you to laugh at one point “I’ve even grown to not hate your hair in the shower drain.” You let out a snort as you sniffled “you know you miss it when you’re gone.” You shot back as he smiled letting you see a little nod.

The boy pecked your lips as he wiped your cheek stopping the tear from running down any further “you’re my person, my world, my everything.” He announced causing you to let out a little gasp as you placed your hand on your chest “so it only made sense to me that I asked you to marry me.”

You watched as he opened the ring box “I didn’t know what ring to get you,” he explained as he showed you the ring that had a diamond on it “if you don’t like it the jeweller said you could change-”

“Neeks,”

Nico felt like an idiot as his eyes went wide “oh my god you hate it don’t you?” He was quick to shut the box “let me get my keys-”

“Nico,”

The boy didn’t listen though “I’ll take you there and we can get you a new-”

“Nico!”

Your louder voice seemed to work on him “yes?” He cocked his head as he watched you cup his face with your hand.

A smile formed on your lips “could have proposed to me with a ring pop and I would have said yes,” you confessed as you let your thumb rub his face softly as it soothed him.

Nico nodded “so is that a yes?”

“The biggest one you’ll ever hear me say.”

#nico hischier imagine #ambers 150 celly #nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier oneshot #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #imagines #oneshots #amber writes fics

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heyhihellosworld · 1 year ago

Text

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨

Lando Norris x OC Alice Davies

Word Count: 7.6k

Summary: Childhood friends too...?

Warnings: People changing, friendship ending, breakup, very brief smut, Angst!

Notes: Never written for Lando before but this idea seemed fitting for him soo. Also this is not an x reader story but an OC because it felt right and the OC is completely made up, names found on google's first page lol. It's soooo long too hehe. This fic needed so much research and I'm sure it's not all correct, but it is fanfiction, and also it's angstyyyy, probably not a happy ending, sry

2005 Hampshire

"Lando Norris, what are you doing?!" Cisca yelled over the small yard causing the young boy to stop in his tracks. His hand still in Alice's hair as he was in the middle of pulling her to the ground.

"She took my car!" Lando tried to argue but Cisca looked furiously at her young son. "Take your hands out from her hair!"

Lando slowly untangled his hands from Alice's long strands and turned to his mother, having the decency to look slightly ashamed.

He glanced at his younger friend, her face holding a soft pout and her eyes spilling over with tears as she tried to hold them back. Lando always felt guilty when she looked like that, especially when it was his doing.

"Say sorry to Alice!" Lando's mom ordered, the small boy lifting his eyes slightly "Am sorry Alice" he spoke, feeling small under his mothers hard gaze. "You never pull her hair again, okay?"

"Okay, sorry" he muttered, turning around to follow his mother towards the house.

As he started walking he felt sadness creep onto him, he felt sad his mother was angry at him and that Alice had that expression on her face, it was the same one she had when the boys at school poked fun at her or when she knocked at their door because her parents were fighting again. He hated to be the one making her look like that.

Just as the feeling took a hold of him he felt a small hand on his, his head turning to meet Alice's smile, her hand opening his and gently dropping the small car in his palm. It was his favourite which was why she always teased him with it. "I'm sorry I took your car"

"It's okay, as long as you're not mad at me" Lando smiled. His eyes fleeting around before he found what he was looking for, running to the small row of flowers and picking the prettiest one before running back to Alice, hand offering the blue flower.

Her smile split her face open, she loved flowers, especially blue flowers. The girl wrapped her arms around her friend, thanking him with a soft giggle.

Soon enough the two kids happily strutted on, arms around eachother and Cisca looked at them with a fond smile as the kids where all happy again, playing tag in the green grass.

They were innocent, small and new to the world. If only it would always be this easy to forgive and forget.

2006 TeamSport Go track

Alice watched with longing eyes as she watched her friend in the go-kart. It was a competition hense why she was not allowed to join, she didn't necesarily want to compete but she liked to kart and Lando did too. So much he had told his friend he was gonna drive in formula when he got older, he was gonna be in f1 and win the championship.

It was already done

"Are you sure that's possible?" Alice had asked quietly, not to upset him but just because it meant he wouldn't be here, with her forever.

But Lando had told her that of course it was posible and maybe she didn't understand now because she was younger. She was in fact born a year later but she was only barely two months younger, something she had held for herself as she looked at the seven year old boy, his goal already set.

Done and dusted.

It was naive to think that they would spend all summers and years like this even if he wasn't in formula one but it was her thoughts, the underlying inevitable. She didn't want to seperate from him, ever. He was everything she needed and everything she always would need, that she knew.

Even if she was only six.

2008 Hampshire

The sun was bathing on the young girl, her hair sticking out in every directions after their dip in the water, despite the warmth she had a warm smile etched on her face. Laughing with Lando as he threw water on her, chasing her down until she stumbled face first into the cold water.

This was the first time in a long time the two bestfriends were together again. Lando had been busy with his karting and Alice had not been able to follow him around.

The girl squeeled as she found herself underwater, the waves keeping her from the surface as she struggled to get air again. Panic settled in her body before Lando gently pulled her up to the surface, chuckling as she choked on the water she had inhaled. His laughter though, stopped immideately as he watched her face morph from coughing to crying.

"Lando, that was scary" she sobbed softly, wading up to the beach again as Lando followed. He liked teasing the girl but he hated it when he took it to far and she got sad.

"I'm sorry Alice" he pouted, reaching out to help her sort her towel out as it was crumpled to pieces as she tried to smothen it out but she just slapped his hand away.

Lando stood helplessly and watched his friend dry her tears, folding her arms over her chest stubbornly. "I am sorry Alice" Lando said again but her eyes narrowed at him

"I will pick you a flower on our way back" he pleaded, knowing that was gonna make her forgive him, it always did. "Fine, but it's gotta be pretty" she said, a smile slowly forming on her face as he finally relaxed. "Of course" Lando grinned before throwing himself on her towel, pushing her off it as they laughed.

2010 Hampshire

"What do you want to be?"

The question came unexpected and the small girl pouted her lips in thought. Her eyes watching her friend who sat on the soft grass, hand picking on the strands in a way she wanted to tell him off for.

"A vet, a teacher or maybe a doctor" she rambled, Lando giggled, not to poke fun at her but because she looked so deep in thought over this simple question.

Lando already knew his dreams and had always done, it was all they talked about but lately he had pondered about her, had she ever told him? He didn't think so.

It was quite for a little while which made the young girl frown, the silence getting to her, she didn't like silence after she had said something so instead she snapped at Lando.

"Stop picking on the grass, you are destroying it" she muttered sharply, the brunettes hand immideately stopping his assualt on the gren strands. "Sorry" he muttered

Alice gave him a small smile, apologizing. "I think whatever it is you're gonna be great" Lando spoke, gathering the grass he had picked into a pile and blowing it in his friends face.

"Lando!" she half yelled half laughed as she launched over him, pining the laughing brit into the grass, smudging his face with a few strands she had gathered. "Alice!" he laughed, trying to squirm out of her grasp but he didn't have much of a upper-hand to the girl who giggled with him.

2013 Ortona Italy

"You did it!" Alice grinned at her friend as he ran into her open arms, hugging her close to him as he giggled. "I did it" he mumbled into her soft hair. "I told you it was posible! I told you I would do it!" Lando laughed, overjoyed with the result and the win. Alice only giggled, she knew too, she knew anything he set his mind to he could do.

"Karting European Championship winner" he mumbled, smiling as the words reached his ears. This was the beginning, the very beginning to something so much bigger, to his dreams.

Alice watched his smile all afternoon as they celebrated with a big dinner in their rented house. The sun falling beutifully outside of the open deck. The grill was on and their mothers were going around filling up peoples glasses and hugging Lando every chance they got. Everybody was proud, everybody was happy.

It was one of the best days Alice could remember, not an ounce of bad mood everything light hearted and domestic in a way she never realised until years later, looking back at that afternoon.

Sitting with Lando on the edge of the landstrip down to the water, listening to him talk about his race, his dreams his passion as they munched on some sweets they had stolen from the big oak table.

Time seemed to float together as they sat there, feets gently tapping in the water, hands interwined and bodies close to the other. It was the first time they kissed, the two young teenagers to caught up in their own little bubble. To hung up on the sweet love they had always shared for eachother to even realize what kind of territority they stepped into.

2014 World Championship Karting

He could spot her from miles away, her bright smile lightning up in the crowd in front of him. She was the first one with him, the first one aproaching with her arms wide open.

Lando laughed into her embrace as she smiled like an idiot "I'm so happy for you Lando, you are so good!" she praised, his heart swelling twice it's size at her voice and words. "Thank you" he whispererd, meaning it.

When he pulled away from her embrace he had to go back to the track, his friends immideately hogging him up.

"Congrats" George smiled. Lando grinned back, thanking him as he walked with the others to their cars, gathering all of their stuff to go home.

"Hey Lando" Max asked making the boy pull back a little to get even steps with the dutch boy. "Huh?" he questioned, watching his friend pull a slight face. "Just, that girl that is always with you, who is she?" Lando was too stunned to speak, he knew they had grown a lot, to the point were girls and relationship was a hot topic. Someone who had before only been a playmate was now someone people gawked at, rating and thinking up things with. It had been drastic and Lando often thought it got a bit too much.

But he couldn't deny the obvious, the feelings and the thoughts that sometimes bubbled up despite his liking. Alice had grown up to be a beutiful girl, she had always been in Lando's eyes but not in the way he now realized and it hadn't dawned on him that othes thought the same.

Spread laughter sounded around them "Mate, careful" George joked and Max's eyes rolled "Just wondering mate"

"Alice?" Lando stuttered, wanting to scream when Max nodded. She was often with Lando but had never cared for his karting-friends, saying they weren't her type even though she had only watched them from afar.

"Well she is my friend?"

"Friend?" Max repeated "So you are not together?"

Lando conteplated lying but he shook away the thoughts "No, she is my childhood friend"

"Well she is hot"

Lando swallowed hard, gritting his teeth togehter as he didn't say anything else but Max watched him, seeing the obvious discomfort and dislike to his friends comments and decided to let it go, Lando was a good friend and he understood Alice was important for him and he didn't want to step on anyones toes.

"She seems nice, that's all" Max concluded, patting his friend comfortingly on his shoulder before letting the topic change back to the race.

Lando tried to get into the joking mood but he couldn't really let his thoughts move on from Alice. Did she have a boyfriend? It wouldn't surprise him if she had, because she was..hot?

Lando battled with his thoughts. He didn't know, Alice had always been Alice. Nothing more nothing less, feelings had never even been questioned, love as more than friends had never been brought up, not necesary because they were them, togehter. The only time something like it had been talked about was when their mothers joked about them getting married.

Well they had kissed... but still

Was this all as confusing for her as it was for him? Did she have multiple suitors chattting her up and asking her on dates? Lando had no idea. Of all the things they spoke about this was a topic they had never even touched, never felt the need to.

"Come on man, go to your girlfriend" George joked, shoving him towards Alice who stood with his family, an uncertain smile forming on his face.

2014 Costwolds

His eys watched her as she helped his mom set the table. She was wearing a white flowy summerdress, the fabric flowing in the wind. His mom had helped her fix her hair with a flower and she looked absolutely stunning, with that wide smile on her face.

He couldn't pin it down to when she went from his cute best friend to this, to Alice. A young, mature beutiful woman, someone he felt a lot for and not only platonic feelings. Of course this was strictly hidden. After their little kiss nothing else had surfaced, nothing even close to happening. They had brushed it away.

He couldn't help it tough, he was also getting older, close to sixteen now and feelings did surface, thoughts he wasn't proud of circled in his head and he wondered if she had the same thoughts or if it was just his mind that was sick.

"What are you doing?" Alice laughed softly at him as he stood like frozen on the grass. Blinking rapidly as he shrugged, playing it off like always "Nothing, I was just thinking you know?"

"Really, thinking? Seems like out of usual, no?"

He pulled a grimace at her joke, but it soon turned into a smile as her laughter filled his ears. What a sappy sap he was and he hated himself for it. If any of his friends would see him now they would laugh in his face.

"You wanna come with me to pick flowers for the table?"

"Sure" he nodded, following her out of the main door and out on the field behind Alice's house. Her parents had gotten divorced a year ago, her father moving abroad for work whilst her mother stayed with her.

They had newly been able to pull this house, a beutiful small cute little home more on the countryside with fields and forests close by. It was peaceful, comfortable and beutiful, Lando thought it fitted Alice perfectly.

"What is on your mind today? You seem so distant" she pondered softly, her hair falling in her face as she plucked a beutiful pink flower from the field. "I don't know" he shrugged.

"Then talk to me" she smiled gently as she popped the flower into her basket.

"Do you... do you ever feel..." he couldn't figure out the right words to finish his sentence, "Feel? Of course??" she deadpanned and Lando let out a soft chuckle "No, I mean have you ever felt... like... romantic feelings for anyone?"

Alice scrunched her face up as she looked at her friend. "Do you have a girl I don't know of?" she asked, offended. "But I guess?"

Lando's face heated up, hands pressing against his cheeks as he sat down in the grass. "No no I don-wait you have?"

Suddenly his stomach filled with dread, did she have someone he didn't know of?

"I think so but it's a bit weird"

Lando couldn't say anything more before she spoke again, cutting him off. "Please go on, who is this? What are you feeling, it's okay you know"

Lando removed his palms from his cheeks, taking a deep breath. He felt almost overwhelmed by her calm sweet voice, gently nudging him on.

"Well I don't know, I am so unsure on it because it's... it's someone I've known for so long and I am not sure how I got to feel more than friendship. I have no idea if she likes me back but it's just getting clearer and clearer that I can't supress that I feel more and more every day"

Alice only nodded along his fast words, trying to comprehend and figure out who this was. She felt the same, it was a bit complicated because being friends forever made it a bit tricky to point out what was what.

She tried to keep an even face, not to let him know too obviously that her heart slowly cracked at his words, he liked someone else?

His eyes met Alice's, taking another deep breath

"It's you"

2015 Hampshire

"I know" she repeated, it was all she said as she dragged Lando over the grass to the deck where she had been sitting all morning.

"What? You know what?" Lando asked confused, trying to make sense of her enthusiasm and rapid words.

She let go of his hand as they reached the small decktable, the oak scattered with papers, drawing, documents, all kinds of stuff and it didn't make Lando any wiser of what she wanted with all this.

"I know what I wanna do!" she exclaimed, excitment written all over her, from the way her eyes shone, the way her hand gestured over the papers and to how fast she talked and how she practially bounced up and down on the floor.

"Oh?" Lando asked, leaning forwards to see her papers. This had been a big deal for Alice, ever since he brought it up when they were ten she had been pondering over it. It was no stress and she knew that but for some reason, maybe because Lando knew his dream since the age of six, she felt the need to know.

"I want to be a diplomat!"

Lando fell quiet, too stunned to speak. A diplomat.

He was apparently not the only one having big dreams.

"What do you think?!" She asked, her voice so excited he had to be too. "I think it's fantastic!" Lando giggled, just as engrossed as she was as she pointed at the paper with the decsription of her future job, because Lando was sure she would make it.

"How do you become that?" "Well there are different aproaches to it depending on what you are most interested in to major but you need a bachelors degree but you can choose to major in example Law, international studies, political science or history but I think I want to go Law because then if I don't make it I can go into law for real so I'm gonna apply to Lawschool's here in England, Oxford and Cambridge. That's four years"

Lando's eyes followed her every movement as she spoke him through the different stages of how to become a diplomat. It seemed incredibly hard and long way there but she was so excited over this it made it's way over to Lando.

2016 Costwolds

He looked at her so softly she didn't know what to do of herself. His colourmixed eyes filled with so many different emotions, so many questions.

His hair was all wet from the rain that had poured down over England as usual and his lips held a soft smile whilst his hand tilted up her chin.

"You are so pretty" he mumbled softly, Alice feeling her face heating up at the comment. "You are too" she spoke, her voice like silk, so low it was hardly even hearable through their deep breaths.

She couldn't tell what had gotten them here, alone in her house, cuddled up in her bed watching a movie. Watching a movie had turned to a kiss, then a makeout and now here they were, asking eachother silent questions about how to move forward.

They had started to explore more and more ground with eachother after their feeling-revelations. Slowly but surely taking step by step.

"Are you sure?" Lando asked unsurely, his voice deep and ragged, feeling nervous as he looked at the young girl laying so beutifully on his bed. It felt like he was dreaming. Not only was there a beutiful girl half naked in his bed it was also Alice. His teenage hormones were too high to manage at this point.

"Have you... ever?" she asked, watching his head shake "No, I have no idea of how.. this is suposed to g-"

"We will figure it out" she smiled, asking both of his current questions and he smiled, face relaxing as his mouth dived to hers again.

It was slow, gentle and intimate. Both of them taking their sweet time, caring for eachother.

Their bodies moved together, figuring out what felt the best for both. Lando didn't know what to do, what to feel, it was all overwhelming to a point he became blank of thoughts. Hands gently helping her move with him, relishing in her heavy breaths and small sounds as they explored a new part of themself and eachother.

2016 Silverstone

His hand laced in hers as he gently pulled her along the streets in Silverstone. He had bought GP tickets for her birthday, revealing that his parents had helped him out a litttle after her worrying words for his money.

"Thank you" she said softly, smiling at Lando who looked back at her just as fondly. "Of course" was his reply, even though this didn't feel any type of of course

"Just want to make you happy" he murmured, making her heart soar

"I am happy just being with you, this-this is amazing and I am so happy and excited but you, you will always be enough"

Lando's smile got impossible big at that, swinging their hands inbetween their walking bodies. They were both fools, fools in love but they didn't care.

He talked her through the basics even though she already knew it all. But she loved to listen to it, listen to him talk about it with so much passion, blabber about the teams, the rules, the best. Everything he knew he loaded off to her, Alice more then content to walk around the paddock like this, hand in hand listening to his voice.

2017 Hampshire

She watched as Lando helped his mother to set the table in their old summer-house. The tradition continuing on. His hands balanced the plates as his mother directed him to what should go where.

She couldn't pin down the moment when Lando, her gullible dork of a friend became Lando. Lando who got all the girls falling at his feets with his riddicolously attractive smile and brown curls. Lando who got her to feel more than platonic feelings, Lando that got her all hot and bothered just being him, Lando.

But it was still the same Lando who had picked her flowers, held her when she was sad or confused, shared her highs and been there all the time. He was the same but with some additonal things, things she didn't exactly mind.

His eyes met hers over the table, his face of concentration turning into a teasing smirk as he winked at her.

Alice couldn't help but to giggle, moving off the grass and to the table where him and Cisca were talking about something. Lando had currently signed all season in formula 3 with Carlin. But he had been home for the weekend before going off again.

"Hello" Lando smiled like a dork as she reached the two, his smile going over to her, smiling just as widely as his arms reached her body to pull her close. "Are you coming to my next race?" He asked lowly, smile breaking out again as she nodded "Of course" Alice did in difference from Lando still go to school, her goal meant hard school studying for many years forward whilst Lando's goal meant no school studying but a lot of experience gathering. It was different but it didn't bother them. Alice studied, Lando helped her best he could, usually more distracting than helping but he was also useful to use as someone to juggle ideas with and have as a listener when she pracctised her speaches or read through her essays. In return Alice listened to him ramble about motorsports, went to every race she could and simply was there for him when he needed her to be.

Despite their young age they were mature in their relationship and more than anything, they were serious about eachother.

2018 Barcelona

She watched him from a distance, watching how he went around with his friends, joking laughing. It was formula two now, a new world from forumla 3 in some ways but the biggest difference were the publicity.

The fanbase that had before been small had explded as he startde to do well in formula 2 and especially since he started to appear on the internet via social media, interviews and youtube clips. It had exploded so fast neither of them had gathered what had happened.

What Alice had gathered by now though was that this new world of the sport he loved so dearly made him more and more distant. Suddenly he cared more about his appearance than her, cared more about his image than her. It showed in so many situations, him declining to hang out with her to hang out with some friends, telling her she didn't need to come because it was better for his image if they wasn't seen together all the time.

Alice didn't know if it was better for his image or better for keeping the girls that currenly circled aorund him.

He rarely spent any time with her anymore and it was fine Alice thought, but the feeling that he was embarrassed of her, that he didn't want people to know about her or their relationship was something she felt really hurtful.

The most confusing part of it all was how different it was. When it was only them he was the same, the small soft little boy who picked her flowers and helped braid her hair but when they were with others or in public he was someone completely different. One who pushed her away, ignored her and laughed at her.

It was all getting a bit too much. In the begining she could wave it off by him being new to the experience and fame, having to navigate his way around it but it had gone too far. And it felt too much in her heart.

2019 Monza

"I think... I think we should stop seeing eachother"

Lando's words caught something deep within her, felt like a shot right at her heart as she looked at the boy.

"What?" Her words came out weak, like a faint whisper. "I think we should break up, or whatever" he spoke, this time more direct, less feelings in them, more harshness.

Break up or whatever

They had never put a label on it, they were them, nothing more nothing less. But now he wanted to be nothing?

"Why?" she croaked out not getting where it was all coming from. "I want to see other people" he deadpanned, no emotion in his voice as he looked her straight in the eyes.

She felt defeated, nothing to fight with, nothing to fight for. Because he looked so sure, he looked so distant from the person she knew so she had no choice but to let him go, regardless of the feeling of her heart breaking into pieces in her chest.

But she got numb, feelings she could deal with later, she did not want to look weak when he looked like this, acted like this.

"Okay" was all she said, dropping the flower she held in her hand and turning on her heel.

2019 England, contract with Mclaren

"Congrats" she smiled carefully at the cheery boy. Things hadn't been good lately, stifff and tense but this was his long time goal, his dream and there was no way Alice wouldn't congratulate him on it.

Even if he broke her heart.

His eyes glistened as he pulled her into a warm hug, smiling into her hair. "Thank you, really"

Lando was happy, and Alice were happy that he was happy because it felt like it had always done. He spoke about his contract, about the races infront and she listened, just like she had always done. Taking it in and gently quzzing him further. She didn't want to push too hard.

His smile grew more and more as they talked, he even came so far as to ask how she was doing, he hadn't done that in a long time but just as before, in the end of their relationship things changed fast.

He hadn't told her he'd met anyone new, although they had barely spoken at all lately, only the odd hello on their family dinners. Alice felt it was too early for that but she could see it from miles away.

His eyes flickered around as the tall girl moved towards them and she knew it before she was even there. The lump in her stomach exploding into a sick feeling.

Lando fumbled nervously as he introuduced the two, Alice's eyes stuck on her beutiful face and incredible body. She was everything in one package, one stunning package.

"When did you meet?" Alice asked, voice sweetly soft, trying to disguse any hiddden intention but by the way Lando couldn't meet her eyes she already knew it was before they had ended.

"Oh, I don't know, I think it was last year yeah?"

Last year

Lando didn't answer, didn't look at Alice, he couldn't.

"Oh wow that't nice, and it was really nice to meet you but I have to go"

"Okay, nice to meet you too!" she smiled cheerily.

Lando catched up to her before she could leave the grounds completely, grabbing her arm to stop her.

"Alice" "Don't tocuh me" she snapped, feeling too many emotions at once to control it. "I'm sorry" he tried but she just waved him off

"Save it" she bit

"Don't be like this Alice, come on" "What? You met her a year ago? When we were still together?" "I did nothing with her until we broke up!" "NO but you LIKED HER?!"

Lando looked down "I don't know"

"Fuck off!

"Stop it, youre making a big deal out of this when it dosen't have to be, we broke up I found someone new" "I-I I don't even know what to say" she spoke, shaking her head at the boy she thought she knew but so clearly didn't

"What did you think Alice? That we would stay in love our whole life and get married with many kids?" "I-I don't know" she whispered because maybe that had been what she thought, or at leat hoped. More importantly she thought they were real, and that they had real feelings. But maybe it was just her.

2019 Bahrain

Alice didn't cheer nor did she congratulate. She stood next to Cisca in the Mclaren garage watching the race. She was there for Cisca and only Cisca. She suposed she had forced Lando to give her a pass as he probably much rather would have wanted to give one to his new girlfriend than Alice. But his mother was good at talking and she guessed she had skills with her son as well. Having dangled the pass in her face as Lando had agreed to give her one.

Lando glanced over at her and gave her a faint smile but he got nothing in return, just a stone face that made him advert his gaze again.

He knew why though, the very reason swinging with her long hair before stepping forward to kiss him, right in front of her. It shouldn't but it made his heart ache, he didn't know if it was because it was Alice or if it was because he was a decent human being, he doubted that though.

"Wow babe! Your first points amazing!" She grinned at him. He forced himself to tip his lips into a forced smile "Thank you babe"

He could se in his imagination how Alice would scrunch her face up in disgust. She always hated those nicknames.

"How should we celebrate?" she asked, a hopeful look on her face. She wanted to go out. Lando wanted to go home, eat dinner with his family and Alice, sit down the water with Alice and talk about everything and anything. But those days were gone and now he had a new life.

"Clubbing?" he suggested, smiling as her face lit up.

"Perfect!" she smiled, turning away from him and to Alice and his mother who stood chatting, not paying any attention at all to him or at least not by the looks of it.

"Lando, we are going home. Are you coming with us for our regular big celebration?" His mother asked and he dreaded having to answer

"No, sorry. We are going out" he voiced softly, watching his mother's smile falter as a disapointed scowl took over her face "Out?"

He didn't even dare to look at Alice, knowing she would look at him with murder in her eyes, not liking his answer.

"Okay, well it was so good seeing you" his mother smiled, hugging him close before giving him one more loook and walking out the garages. He had excpected Alice to follow his mother out but she stayed put, making him feel a bit uneasy.

Alice smiled at her as she gave her a soft wave, telling Lando to catch up with her. Alice's smile fell the second her eyes landed on Lando.

He was thinking about aproaching but decided against it, should he go? As his mind was reeling with options and things he could say Alice was standing in front of him with an uncharacteristic frown on her face.

"You are really choosing clubbing before your family?" she spoke, her words harsh but it was nothing compared to her tone, filled with venom and hard as ice.

Lando tasted different aproaches on his tongue before, of course choosing the worst one. Anger.

"You're just angry I choose her before you"

The words struck, he could see that and in a twisted way it settled something inside him. "This has nothing to do with me" she spoke back, her voice even colder than before.

"I already said I was not gonna come to any celebrations, seriously Lando, who do you think you are?" He swallowed, didn't know what to say next but she beat him to it "And since when do you even go clubbing?" her face twisted with distaste. She had never liked clubbing a lot, only rarely could she enjoy it briefly but Lando had had no problem with that. Not a fan of the crowded rooms either but now, now he wanted to make his words hurt as much as hers did.

"Well maybe that's something I can now feel free to do" he spoke harshly, watching the wave of emotion on her face as she shook her head.

"I never, ever stopped you from it"

Lando shrugged "Didn't matter"

Alice shook her head, baffled. Where had Lando gone? Because this wasn't him.

"I was just going here to ask what the fuck is wrong with you. Your mother traveled here to watch you, to support you but you can't even take the time to celebrate with them over dinner? Go to the fucking club after dinner what do I care! But you don't treat family like that''

"What do you know about family?" The words left a bitter taste in his mouth but they had already tumbled out

"Apparently more than you" she bit and maybe she was right but it didn't stop his words from tumbling out.

"Just stop it Alice, you can't control me like before, let me be"

Alice swallowed, he could practically see the emotions swimming in her eyes but it was his doing. No matter how long it had gone he still hated to be the one that made her look like that, so fragile and so hurt.

"I'm sorry if that's how you felt" she whispered before leaving him feeling like the jerk he was.

2020 Cotswold

Her fingers scrolled through the profile, clicking in to one then the other. Scrolling through comments and reactions.

It was like an addiction, once she'd started she couldn't stop.

She was clicking into his pictures, trying to make out the people he was with like she had any reason to do so.

Her eyes fleeted over it all, drinking it in as this was all she could have. Sulking over her ex 'whatever' and the life he was now living.

Her eyes locked on a particular photo, he was on the podium, the widest of smiles on his face and a cup in his hands.

She would have called herself pathetic for sitting here dreaming of the guy who broke her heart but she couldn't help but to look at the photos and dream of what once used to be.

2021 Cotswold

Stiff was a light word to put it. Everyone felt awkvard as the two 22-year old's adjusted their gaze's over the room. Who's idea it had been to put on a family reunion dinner Alice didn't know but whoever it was had started an bad idea.

She hadn't seen Lando face to face in what felt like forever and it was just as unplesant as she would have thought it would be. Horrible.

"So Alice, how is studying going?" Cisca asked sweetly

"Well it's going great, we haven't completed any major essays or studies yet but it's really interesting so I'm happy" Alice spoke, looking at Cisca who held the most comforting smile ever.

"That's fantastic honey, I always knew you would make out what you wanted, you beutiful soul!" she all but squeked making the young girl feel warm inside out "Thank you"

"So Lando, what about you?" Alice's mom asked, just as politely. Alice busied herself grabbing some more potatoes in the slowest movements she could muster as Lando spoke them very detailed through the season so far. He told them all about the car, how it felt, his teammate, his team, the last race, others on the grid, all of it.

It was a bit weird how something she used to find so intruiging, now made her feel numb. Like a big lump balling up in her stomach. "And how is your girlfriend?" She continued, everyone holding their breath

Lando looked uncomfortable as his eyes fleeted around the table not staying to long anywhere. "Well, eh. We broke up" he revealed, making Alice look at him for the first time in what felt like forever.

"Oh I'm so sorry honey" Alice's mother spoke again but he just waved it off, giving her a reassuring smile "No it's fine. I guess we realized how different we were and how different the things we want are. It was no biggie, mutual decision" he shrugged, not seeeming to care to much about it and something about that made it twist in Alice's stomach.

"And how about you Alice? Your mother told me you were seeing someone?"

Alice and Lando both looked like they were gonna faint with shock. Alice coughing on her potatoes, waving her hand as she took a sip from her glass.

"Noo" she chuckled once she recovered. "It was nothing serious at all, just a bit of...fun" she spoke awkvardly, something about that sentence making Lando's stomach twist unpleasantly.

"Aha" Cisca smiled, her lips twitching as she tried to not chuckle at both the youngsters uncomfortableness.

"I hope you mean fun like jumping into the sea and giggling in the grass" Alice's mother mused, looking at her with amusedly narrowed eyes.

"Of course, that's what I mean..." Alice giggled, hiding behind her tall glass. "Because I have never heard you even say you lost your virginity"

Alice choked at that, spluttering her drink over herself and the table as the others laughed at her.

"Well" she breathed

"Alice! You have but you have not told me?!" Her mother said sarcastically. She had figured she had, they had talked about it vaguely since she had wanted to know it was okay and all and she had also not so sneakily gotten a condom or two plus she had asked for her mother to hellp her with the pills.

"Maybe?" "There is no hard feeling honey" She started, tone warm "And Cisca has told me all about it"

This time it was Lando who choked on his drink, coughing desperately until his airways were free again. He had not been as secretive as Alice apparently had been. He had told his mother the next day about it. Not in detail of course but still.

"Oh really? What did he say?" Alice snickered, throwing a look on Lando who's face had creeped up with colour. "Oh not too much, just that you had had sex and it had been ok"

"OK?!" Alice gasped at Lando who giggled in his hands, face red as he giggled at the awkvardness of it alll

Alice couldn't help but to laugh at his face but stopped abruptly when she realized what she was doing, laughing with him?

"No I'm joking it was hideous" she deadpanned, their mothers snickered but Lando looked at her with a glare.

She cracked a sarcastic smile and engrossed herself in the next conversation floating, ignoring his gaze for the rest of the evening.

2022 Monaco

His fingers scrolled through the profile, clicking in to one then the other. Scrolling through comments and reactions.

It was like an addiction, once he'd started he couldn't stop. Obsessing over her life even though he wasn't in it anymore.

Eyes locked on the different pictures he couldn't help but think she was the most stunning person he had ever met.

He also could not stop himself from feeling his heart swell and break at the thought.

2023 Silverstone GP

Alice's hair moved in the windy air of Silverstone. His eyes wandered over her, drinking her in.

He had missed her, really missed her.

Being without her was a test on it's own, one he thoughts was nesecary to live how he wanted, but now he realized he wouldn't ever want to live without her.

It was too late, of course. He knew that, everybody knew that. He had completely wrecked everything they had and shared because of a few years trying to be someone else.

He had been fine though, moved on because he knew that's what she had done, but his heart struggled all the same everytime he saw her or even thought about her.

His mom had tried to push him towards her, saying that he needed to apologize. Lando had never understood why. A simple sorry wouldn't change a thing of what he had done, it was not gonna make anything better.

A sorry was simply not enough.

Despite that he itched to say it, beacuse he was sorry, even if that changed nothing.

A GP sunday and Alice hadn't had it in her heart to refuse Cisca's pleas for her to come with her and watch. She had been there more times since they broken up 'or whatever' and it had been fine.

But this time it felt different. From the moment she stepped into the paddock Lando's eyes were on her. Nothing unusual but his eyes were something else, held something else deep within them.

It hadn't even been half an hour after the race when he aproached her carefully. His eyes fleeting around as he stopped in front of her, hand combing through his wet curls.

"Hi" he breathed, meeting her eyes a short second.

"Hi" she answered, her heart picking up in her chest for no reason at all.

Why did it still do that?

"Good race today, congratulations" she smiled weakly making his heart grow wings. "Thank you". He was on the podium, second place, a good weekened for Mclaren, for sure.

"How you been?" he stuttered out, trying to be as normal as possible as she looked at him. "Good, you?" she replied shortly, his breath catching in his throat "Fine" he got out, his words stuck in his throat, sounding like he had just coughed them up. "I- I know this is not gonna change anything and I know I've been a proper dick but I still wanted to.." he murmured, his hand reaching into his suit pocket and bringing out a small blue little flower. Blue ones where her favoruite, it had always been.

"A flower?"

His eyes burned with sadness and regret

"I really am sorry"

Alice's eyes flickered from the sad looking guy and his handpicked beutiful flower, wishing it was enough, wishing it was as easy to forgive him now as it had been when they were small and Lando had teased her or made her cry. But it wasn't and Lando knew that too.

No amount of flowers could possibly make up for this and it absolutely shattered him.

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