#slams pizzas on desk | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

builtbybrokenbells · 6 months ago

Text

Poolsides & Pizza Boxes | JTK (1 of 2)

A friendly hangout and an innocent drinking game turns into a troublesome affair.

Read part two here.

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word count: 13.5k

Warnings: sexual situations, mentions of sexual frustrations, lots of sexual tension, like one smidgen of dry humping, embarrassing crushes, kissing/making out, awkward situations, play fighting, lots of friendly teasing, drinking, smoking, partying, swearing, a touch of angst, lots of fluff, sorry if i miss any! (stick around for part two for the rest 😉)

hi lovelies, I had a blast writing this! part two obviously is the more climactic part, but I hope you enjoy this for now. The next one should be out soon 🤍 as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!

The summer sun was blinding, irritating your eyes as you shielded them with your hand. Your skin was warm, the cool pool water long forgotten and the droplets dried into a distant memory. The drink sitting in the cup holder of your patio chair was condensated, the ice inside melting the longer you sat, and the music blaring through your speaker was playing a song you hadn’t heard in a long time. The moment was perfect, the summer day exactly what you had dreamed of in the slump of work that only ever seemed to grow larger. What made it even better was the crowd of boys sitting poolside, their feet in the water and beer bottles in their hands.

As you sipped at your straw, you watched as one of them stood, the water running from his legs onto the brand new concrete panels on the ground. You looked upwards, your eyes settling on his face as he turned away from his brothers and took a step in your direction. His brown hair hung over his shoulders, framing his face and blowing softly in the barely-there breeze. You couldn’t help but feel your lips turn upwards into a smile as he continued on his path, standing in front of you and casting a shadow over your chair.

“The sun looks good on you, you know.” He said, his hands anchored on his hips as he gazed down upon your lax position in the chair.

“What does that mean, Jacob?” You raised an eyebrow, looking over the top your sunglasses at him. There was a hint of a smile on his lips too, and you could see his skin of his chest and shoulders beginning to redden from the constant sunlight touching it.

“It means you look better in the sun than you do behind an office desk.” He continued, pushing an identical chair closer to you with his leg. He stopped when the arm collided with yours, sending the ice in your drink clinking against the plastic cup. He sat down, turning his head to look at you before speaking again. “It means we have to do this more often.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” You sighed, pushing your glasses back up the bridge of your nose. You rested your head against the wooden back of the chair, taking in a long breath. The summer air was sweet, lingering with the scent of the blossoming flowers Jake had helped you plant by the doorway just a few days prior. When the wind blew just right, you were hit in the face with his cologne still lingering on his skin, mixing with the last bit of sunscreen that refused to wash away after his pool escapades. The scent was familiar, it was comfortable, and it made you think of home.

“Makes me think you’re forgetting about me, sometimes.”

“Forgetting about you?” You scoffed, chuckling at the idea alone. “As if I could do that even if I wanted to. And how does that make any sense? You’re here every fuckin’ day anyway.” At that, he let out a laugh, one that shook his shoulders and echoed through the air.

“Yeah, but hanging out with you is much different than listening to you talk on a boring conference call from across the room.” He brought the cap of his beer to the edge of the arm on his chair. After a few seconds spent positioning it correctly, he slammed his hand down on top of it. The cap popped off, clanging down on the concrete, and bubbles overflowed from the neck of the bottle. With a mischievous smile, he flicked his hands towards you. You jumped in surprise as the cold liquid hit your warm skin, sending him a glare that spoke louder than any words. “You moved halfway across the country so you could be near us again, and all you do is work.”

“Mhm,” you let out a hum, your lips pressed tightly together as you wiped away the droplets of beer from your chest. “You travel all over the world for months at a time, but you don’t hear me complain about it.” He shot you an incredulous look, shaking his head in disbelief that you would even say such a thing.

“Yeah, I do actually. Every minute of every day that I’m gone.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic.” You dismissed him, closing your eyes as you fought back a smile.

“I can pull up the texts if you’d like,” he said, reaching for the patio table on the other side of you to grab his phone. As he did, you grabbed his wrist, holding his hand back so he could not proceed any further. “And the phone calls.” He let out a long breath, upping his extravagance to bring extra attention to his point. He didn’t cower under your hold, but he didn’t try to move again. “It always goes something like—‘oh, Jake, when are you coming home? I miss you so much’ or ‘only three more sleeps!’” He put on an airy, high pitched voice as he recounted the things you said to him most often.

“Oh, so that’s how we’re going to do this?” You asked, sitting up in your chair and turning towards him. “You don’t want me to start.” You warned, still holding his wrist tightly in your hand.

“Oh, yeah, whatever.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Uh-huh,” you hummed. “What about you? Calling me at three in the morning ‘cause you couldn’t sleep, or when you have a little too much to drink and you miss the sound of my voice?”

“Yeah, like I’d miss the sound of your annoying little ‘Jacob Kiszka’s’! You’re worse than my mom when you call!” He put an extra flair on his voice as he imitated you, striking a flame of annoyance within you.

“Maybe if you’d behave yourself when you’re gone, I wouldn’t have to—“

“Hey!” Josh shouted, turning his head back towards the two of you. “Stop fighting with each other. You’re ruining the vibes.” He motioned to the still, blue water of the pool, illuminated with sun rays.

“He started it.” You grumbled, letting go of his arm and pushing it away from yourself at the same time.

“I don’t care who started it, I’m finishing it!” Josh snipped, taking a sip of his drink. “Worse than children, the two of you.” He let out a disappointed tsk.

“Yes, mom.” You hung your head low with faux shame.

“Sorry, mom.” Jake joined, copying your actions. When Josh turned back to the pool, you could see Jake peeking over at you through the strands of his hair. You bit down on the inside of your lip, stifling the laugh that was rising in your throat. Then, in a hushed whisper, you could hear a grating sound coming from his lips. When you strained to listen, you could he him muttering words, mocking his twin brother for his inability to have fun.

The laugh that tore from your chest was loud, irritating, and disruptive to everyone sitting in the immediate vicinity. Your shoulders shook and your stomach ached from the laughter coursing through you. Josh whipped his head back around, his eyes settling on Jake with a scowl on his lips.

“Is he making fun of me? I know he’s making fun of me.” Josh huffed, ready to argue worse than what the two of you were doing moments before.

“No, Josh. Pinky promise that nobody was making fun of you.” You gave him a sweet smile, sipping at your straw.

“You always take his side!” Josh accused, still joking but spewing some truth about the situation.

“I’m not taking anyone’s side!” You defended, raising your hands in the air.

“F’course you are, ‘cause your in love with him!” Josh grumbled, frustrated at your constant insistence on having Jake’s back and not his.

“I am not!” You exploded, looking to the chair beside you. Jake was unbothered by the thought, amused by the situation unfolding before his eyes, and happy the attention was off him and on you, instead.

“Are too!” Sam joined in, using his foot to reel in one of the pool floaties. As he did, he slid from the poolside on top of the tube. After he situated himself, he pushed himself away from the side and floated to the middle of the water.

“Do you hear yourselves? Are you insane?” You fought off the accusations like your life depended on it, your cheeks burning red and your stomach twisted with embarrassment.

You weren’t sure why it was such a sore subject, but every time they spoke the idea into existence, your whole body felt like it would explode if you didn’t get yourself out of the spotlight.

“Look at her, she’s blushing.” Daniel cackled, his head turned just enough to see your face.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Jake cut in, realizing that you were more uncomfortable than they thought. “Josh, you’re just mad she broke up with you in the third grade. Let it go, man.” Jake said, watching as Josh’s expression dropped into one of great confusion. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. His lips dipped into a frown, then he turned back towards the pool, lifting himself off the ground by his arms and sinking into the water.

Even if the other three knew they were in the right, they were never a match for the two of you when you joined forces against them.

When everyone distracted themselves with drinks and swimming, easily moving on from the moment of torment, Jake reached his arm out to you. He brushed the hair away from your shoulders, letting his hand rest on the back of your neck. The touch was calming, and when his fingers slipped into the hair at the nape of your neck, gently scratching over your head, you nearly forgot what had you upset in the first place. Your eyes fluttered closed and you leaned back into the chair.

“They’re just being assholes, trouble.” The nickname fell from his lips, smooth like silk and sweet as sugar. You could listen to him call you that all day and you were certain you would never get tired of it. “They don’t mean it, they just like to get under your skin.”

“I know.” You hummed, lost in the feeling of his hand on your neck. “Just don’t like it when they team up on me, is all. I know they’re just joking.”

And you did; they had been joking about the same thing since the summer before freshman year of high school, when you had spent every single day following Jake around like a second shadow. It would have hurt you more had he not been doing the exact same thing to you, and it would have been unbearable if you actually did feel that way about him. Back then, you laughed it off, and so did he. Both of you knew the notion was incredibly incorrect, and neither of you were too concerned about the constant teasing that came along with having a best friend of the opposite sex in a small town during your high school years.

In fact, nothing really bothered you much. There was nothing in the world that seemed to be able to tear the two of you apart, and no rumors or suspicious whispers ever changed the dynamics of your relationship. He was your best friend, and to this day, the simple fact remained the same. After a fateful encounter at the soccer field at the school on a warm July morning, the two of you got to know each other beyond what’s expected of familiar faces. You realized you had a whole hell of a lot in common, and within seconds, you realized that friendship with Jake Kiszka was a prized possession you never wanted to give up.

You knew each other beforehand, seeing each other in class and of course, the disastrous heartbreak of his twin brother in the fall of third grade (the relationship only lasted two weeks, but he really liked you), but never explored the possibilities of friendship until that summer.

Since then, you had never known anything else.

You spent days in his bedroom, watching him (poorly) play the new guitar his dad bought for him and watching movies that would quickly turn into memories that served you great comfort. He would walk your dog with you, and occasionally get ice cream with you at the corner store down the street when you both managed to scrape together enough change. When the school year started, you were his crutch for academics, and he was your’s for anything social. Before him, you didn’t have many friends, and the idea of high school always struck a sensitive nerve within you. With him by your side, you never felt like you had to worry about a thing. He held your hand through your first (real) heartbreak, and you helped him practice asking out girls to the school dances.

As you grew older, life changed, but never your friendship. Summers were the same, only with a little more freedom. You went on road trips when you felt your third-hand car could survive it, and got your older brother to buy you booze for house parties. You dated plenty of people, but none of the relationships ever lasted. Plenty of tears were shed, lots of memories were made, and one thing forever remained constant; his presence in your life, and his unwavering support. He wiped away the tears, shared the bottle of vodka, and always knew where to find you when a slow song came over the loudspeaker so he could get at least one dance in at the parties.

It was a relationship everyone yearned for, yet not many got to enjoy. It was a love that was never broken, and one that was never misused. It was the knowledge of never being alone, and knowledge that you never had to fall, because there would always be someone to catch you. More importantly, it was knowing that even if you did fall, and if you fell as far as rock bottom, he would wait beside you until you were back on your feet. You loved Jake for many things, but his support was unlike anything else. He always let you feel your way, figure it out yourself before he tried to fix it for you. He encouraged you to stand, rather than picking you up. It allowed you to learn, to make mistakes you needed to, but you never had to do it alone.

Jake Kiszka was the kind of person everyone wanted in their life, and you were the one lucky enough to have him around. It was a constant reminder to appreciate him, but it was also a constant question of what you ever did to deserve him.

The love carried you through to the very end of senior year, and all the way to a bittersweet goodbye. All of the support you had given to each other encouraged you enough to follow your dreams. The only downside was that your dreams could not happen overnight, and you could not complete them alongside each other. You loved each other so much that it forced you away from each other, but you both knew that staying together in fear of losing would only make you lose even more.

With teary eyes, he stood outside your car that was packed with your whole life, holding you in his arms until the very last second. With a kiss on the head, he sent you across the country with a reminder that he would always be your biggest fan, even if he was not there to tell you. You drove for hours, remembering the sight of the four boys waving you off at the end of your driveway, and did not stop until you landed in front of a dorm room and you were too exhausted to shed another tear.

You drive home on holidays, spending as much time with him as you could, but time was a thief, and you never had as much time as you wanted. Every visit home, and with every road trip across the country he took to see you, things were different. Never love, but life. He was older, his hair longer and his face prettier (how, you did not know). He watched as university tried and failed to beat you down, and you watched as his biggest dreams began to come true. As beautiful as it was, the distance was a killer. You hated seeing him show up at your door, just slightly different than he looked the last time. You were tired of going home and realizing how much had changed.

When you graduated, he was living in Nashville, just signed on by a bigger label and preparing to travel the world. Still, despite his growing popularity and never ending excitement, he never forgot about you. He showed up with a bouquet of flowers and a single suitcase, RSVPing the invitation as soon as he received it. He spent four days with you, laughing and crying, staying up until odd hours of the morning in an attempt to cling to the memory just a little longer. He told you he was going to start touring, and that he was scared he would lose you. You laughed and shook your head, knowing you would call and text him every spare minute you had.

Distance tried hard to tear the two of you apart the first time, and was determined to do it the second. Thankfully the two of you were strong enough to withstand it, and you knew that no matter how hard the years tried to change you, one thing remained certain; Jake would always be your best friend, no matter how far away he was.

You settled in Oregon for a few years, working outside with the environmental science degree you had bled for. He continued to travel the world, playing stages for thousands of people and releasing music he’d dreamed of writing since he was old enough to walk. You called, texted, and every now and again, visited each other. Life was good, simple and fun, but it didn’t feel right.

You had no idea why it felt that way, until you broke down on the phone with Jake as you confessed how badly you missed him.

That’s when things began to change.

He showed up, 85 hours later and running on zero sleep. With little plans and no real answer to your problems, he appeared at your front door, willing to do anything he could to take away the ache in your chest. It was a night full of tears, both of you drunk off wine and the feeling of being together again. In your bed in a run-down one bedroom apartment, he asked you to move to Nashville. After years of keeping silent, he admitted to how bad it was to be away from you. He offered you a place to stay and help looking for a job, and anything you could ever possibly need so long as you were living in the same city as him.

At first, you laughed.

Three weeks later, he flew back to Oregan with his brothers in tow and helped you pack up your life all over again.

This time, for good.

His brothers flew back to Nashville after the brunt of the work was done, but he stayed so he could drive with you. Standing in the driveway of the apartment complex where you had spent the last two years of your life, things seemed the same as they always did. You and your best friend against the world, ready to face a whole new and exciting chapter. As soon as he got behind the wheel of the car, assuring you he would drive the first half of the way, it was different.

Jake was not your childhood best friend who you shared scraped knees and melting ice cream cones with. He wasn’t the boy who used to play guitar for you in his parents basement, nor was he the one who walked your dog with you on those hot summer days. He was a man who was willing to drop everything in his (extremely) busy life to travel halfway across the country to make you happy. He was a man who was more beautiful than you could remember, and he was a man you were willing to drop your entire life for just to be with him again.

He was the same person, and so were you, but this time, everything changed.

You were in love with him, and so impossibly so that it made your head spin and your stomach sick.

You made a vow to secrecy, knowing if he ever found out, the world would never be the same. Losing him was not something you were ever willing to consider, because he was the only constant you ever had in the ever-changing world. For six months, you bargained with the feelings while sleeping in his spare room (some nights) and ate dinner with him at his kitchen table. Most of the time, especially at the beginning, you fell asleep in his bed while you watched terribly filmed and scripted YouTube documentaries in his bed, and you woke up with his arm slung across your waist and his head buried in your neck. You tried to tell yourself that with time, the fleeting feeling would pass and you would consider yourself ridiculous for ever thinking you felt that way about him, but that time never came. When he left for tour, gone for weeks at a time, you missed him more terribly than you ever had despite living in his home with his memory seared into every corner.

The reunions were sweeter, the hugs longer and the warmth in your heart larger than ever before. It was a dangerous game to play, because it was so hard to keep it to yourself. You knew that if things continued the way they had been going, you’d be forced down on one knee with a ring in your hand, begging for marriage.

So, a reluctant conversation surfaced after the third night in a row you had fallen asleep next to him. It was not the conversation you wanted to have, but it was one you needed to have. You sat him down, telling him with faux happiness that you had enough money to put a down payment on a house a few blocks away. You expected him to rejoice, to celebrate the victory of home ownership with you and jump to help you move out, but he did none of those things. Instead, he forced a tight-lipped smile on his face after he cleared his throat. He gave one, firm nod and reached across the table to grab your hand.

“I didn’t know you were looking.” He said, his sadness equal to a punch in the stomach. “I would have let you live here forever, you know. I never wanted you to move out.”

You had so many questions, ones that you did not know if you wanted an answer to. You looked down at his hand in yours, wondering how you had gotten yourself in such a position. You had fallen for the one person you knew you shouldn’t, and you couldn’t bear the thought of the consequences, which is why you forced yourself to buy the fixer-upper, anyway.

Had you gotten it wrong? Did he feel the same as you did?

You were too cowardly to ask, and a month later, you had enlisted the help of the four boys to renovate a house you weren’t even that keen on living in. With five of you, the work was pretty fast, but that was the worst part of it all. After seeing Jake’s reaction to you telling him you were moving out, you wanted to stay, to drag the renovations out for as long as humanly possible, but you knew they would catch on. Instead of dwelling on all of the things you should have said, you focused on what you were going to have. Luckily, the house renovations were mostly aesthetic, and it was done within a few weeks. By the end of it, you were excited to have something of your own to do whatever you pleased with.

Then, Jake had to suggest a fucking pool.

You were happy, content with having everything finished and being moved in (and more importantly, moved out of his house). Things finally seemed to go back to normal, no waking up next to a boy who made your heart beat a little too fast, and no dinners bordering too close to romance.

But it was boring, and you made the mistake of complaining about it.

“It’ll be a great housewarming gift, y/n.” He said, his arms outstretched as a shit-eating grin encased his (infuriatingly) beautiful face.

“Jacob, I don’t need a pool. Besides, I spent all of my money tearing out the carpet and buying the ‘real’ wooden panel flooring that Sam insisted I needed.” You argued, looking down at the expensive flooring with a scowl on your lips. “Stupid fuckin’ wood.”

“That was your fault for listening to Sam in the first place!” He exclaimed, looking around the empty living room. “And besides, do you even know what a gift is? It means someone gives it to you, because they bought it.”

“You’re not buying me a pool, Jacob Kiszka.”

“You’re right,” he gave a slow nod, looking at the fenced in backyard through the large living room windows. “I’m not going to buy you a pool. I’m going to pay a bunch of men to build one!”

Turns out that building a pool is much more costly than he previously anticipated. You figured he would scrap the idea entirely and just buy you an inflatable kiddie pool on your birthday to keep true to his word. You would have been fine with it —no, you would have been more than happy with it. You weren’t sure you could accept such a grandois show of affection from a man you were trying so hard not to have feelings for, but you knew better than to expect the bare minimum from Jake. In the ten or so years of knowing him, he had never stooped as low as the bare minimum.

So he suggested the two of you do the brunt of the work together, then he would pay someone to do the rest.

The issue was, neither of you had any idea how to build a pool (or start to, for that matter) and that entailed a surplus of quality time that you moved out specifically to avoid.

But, you had never been able to say no to Jake, especially when his eyes grew soft and his bottom lip jutted out into a small pout. Puppy dog eyes were your kryptonite, and from him, you were sure it would be your demise.

After a few weeks of digging up ground and clearing your backyard, the area was finally sufficient to hire someone to finish the job. Not long after that, the concrete was poured and set, and soon enough, what used to be a grassy patch had become a pool that was much more expensive than you ever could have afforded.

“This is too much, Jake. I can never even begin to repay you for this.” You said, a hand on your head as your facial features twisted with stress. It was stunning, inviting, and your favourite part of the entire home, and it was all thanks to him.

“You don’t need to repay me, trouble. I wanted to do it.” He said, slinging an arm around your shoulder as he pulled you into his side. The action made your heart flutter and your stomach fill with butterflies. “Do you know how fun it’s going to be? We can get Sam some arm floaties and Josh a life jacket, then we can have so many pool parties.”

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” You sighed, resting your head on his shoulder as you looked out at the blue water.

“I ask myself the same thing about you, every day.” His hand on your upper arm tightened ever so slightly as he spoke. “You dropped your entire life to move to Nashville, Y/N, just so we could be together again. Do you have any idea how much that means to me? Do you have any idea how much you mean to me?” You turned your head upwards, looking over his face. His head was already turned down and he seemed to have been staring at you for some time.

“I love you, Jake.” You mumbled, giving him a smile. If only he knew how true the words really were.

“I told you a pool was a great idea, trouble.” Jake said, clearly trying to take your mind off Josh’s teasing. You crossed your arms over your chest, the still-damp material of your bikini top sticking to your dry skin as you did so.

“I’m not going to say it, Jake.” You huffed, standing your ground. He’d been trying to get you to tell him he was right since the day the pool was finished, but you had bit your tongue and held back every time. “Your head is big enough as is. No need for me to inflate your ego even more.”

“Oh, so that’s how you want to be?” He asked, sitting up in his chair. His eyebrows were knitted together as his eyes silently begged you to retract the rude statement.

“That’s how I’m going to be, yeah.” You nodded, unwilling to back down. “What’s it to you?”

“You know, I’ve always been so nice to you, and I’m just supposed to take this abuse?” He continued, making a move to stand. He sat his beer on the table on the opposite side of you, raising to his feet with a slight sway. You could tell the summer heat was mixing with the alcohol in his system, and he was feeling good. In truth, you weren’t far behind him in the drunken race.

“Yeah, I’m just the worst, Jake. I’m so mean to you.” You laughed, looking up at him as he stood over you. His shadow casted a chill over you, making you realize you hadn’t moved from the sun soaked seat in hours.

“You said it, not me.” He said, his hands on his hips as he continued to tower over you. “Are you going to take it back?”

“Fuck no!” You laughed, placing your drink beside you in case he made any sudden moves that caused a spill. “I’m not going to tell you that you were right, and I’m not going to take it back. You have an ego problem, Jacob, and I think it’s time you realized it. You don’t have to be right all of the time.” The sass in your tone was completely humorous, used only to irritate him further.

Even as you two found yourself in a mock-fight, you couldn’t help but admire the beauty of the picture before you. His sun-kissed skin was glowing under the rays, and his dark hair was tousled perfectly after it had dried from his pool escapades. There was a slight wave to it, and the wind was blowing it away from his face. His shirtless chest was catching your attention, but not nearly as much as the peek of a v-line from his swim trunks, and the patch of hair under his belly button leading to the hem of the fabric. Your heart sped as you remembered what it felt like with his chest pressed to your back and his hand resting on your hip while he was sleeping away the earliest hours of the morning.

Either he did not notice your staring, or he did and he opted not to call you out on it. You were happy either way, because not even being caught staring at Jake was an embarrassment anymore. It happened so often that you felt odd when your eyes weren’t on him. Before you could digest his eyes on you in the same way, he was leaning down with outstretched arms. With ease, one of his arms slid around your lower back. He shifted to the side, hooking his other arm under your thighs. With a swift motion, he lifted you off the chair. You let out a shriek of discontent, knowing exactly where his mind was as he straightened himself up. Now that he was holding you, he seemed all the more steady on his feet, almost as if he was terrified to drop you.

“Jacob Kiszka, do not throw me in that pool or I swear to god—“

“Or what?” He mocked you, cutting you off as he took two steps away from the chair. Your arms slung around his neck, holding on tightly as he clambered closer to the poolside. “What are you gonna do, trouble?”

“I don’t know, but it won’t be good!” You fought against his hold, trying to shake out of his grasp and land back on your feet.

“Oh, I’m so scared!” He laughed, his feet now at the very edge of the pool. “Say it, trouble! Last chance!”

“Never!” You fought back, feeling your body already tense in anticipation of the cold water on your skin.

“Throw her, Jake!” Josh cheered in the background, lingering in the deep end by the side so he avoided the splash zone. He was laughing at the sight of the two of you, always amidst some kind of argument. Jake looked over his shoulder at his brother, smirking at the encouragement.

Josh had a knowing look in his eye, his feelings completely unspoken but apparent to the boy standing over the pool. He knew, just as well as Danny and Sam did. Even as Jake tried to play it cool, and as you deflected every accusation, love completely surrounded the two of you wherever you went.

“Josh, what the hell! You’re supposed to be on my side!” You pleaded, frantic for someone to stop him before he let go.

“Do it, Jake!” Danny yelled over the sound of your voice, laughing as he watched your head whip towards him.

“You guys fucking suck-“ before you could finish your angry sentiments, you felt Jake’s arms move upwards. You took in a sharp breath, holding it as you prepared yourself for him to follow through with throwing you in the water.

But, you had always been the one to get the last laugh.

As he tossed you forward, you tightened your arms around him. As your body pulled away from his, your arms stayed locked behind him, causing him to stumble with the force he’d thrown you with. You heard a laugh leave his lips as your ass touched the surface of the pool, and not long after you were fully submerged in the water. You were barely able to contain your laughter when Jake fell into the water on top of you. When you swam to the surface, you noticed that he did not join you. You looked down into the water, nervous that you might have hurt him, but you did not have to think of it for very long; his hands reached for your thighs as he swam towards you, and with one strong motion, he pulled you back under the water again.

Smiling and holding your breath, you tried your best to fight his hold. After a few seconds of a futile attempt, he loosened his grip and the both of you resurfaced. With his arms still around you and his hair covering his face, he guided you towards the shallow end before he pulled you into his chest. His breathing was ragged, still recovering from the minutes underwater. You relaxed against him, finding yourself breathless for a whole different reason.

“Good one, trouble.” He muttered, pushing his hair away from his face. The water droplets streaming down his cheeks only made him all the more inviting, and his hand on your barely clothed hip was driving you crazy. He reached out, brushing the stray hairs away from your face, in no hurry to move away from you.

“The pool was a good idea, Jake.” You whispered, smiling at him. His lips parted slightly as he tried to process what you were saying to him, and after a few seconds, you saw his eye twitch as he held back a grin.

“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.” He said, turning his head to the side so his ear was closer to your mouth.

“Don’t make me say it again.” You groaned, but you were still smiling despite your annoyance.

“Just one more time?” He pleaded, his fingers tightening on your hip as he asked. It was absent minded, almost as if it was natural for him to touch you so intimately. He didn’t even seem to think twice about it, and he certainly didn’t seem keen on breaking the hold.

“Fine,” you huffed, unable to deny the man of anything he asked for. “You were right about the pool.”

“Sorry, trouble. Can you speak up? I really can’t hear you.” He said, a laugh stuck in his throat as he continued the bit.

“Oh, fuck you, Jake.” You grumbled, rolling your eyes at him.

“—I’m not paying a delivery fee when I have two working legs!” Your attention was drawn to the poolside yet again, and as you looked past Jake to see what the commotion was about, you could have sworn you felt Jake move to be just a little bit closer to you. “Can you think? Do you ever use your head?” Sam continued, flicking Josh on the forehead to solidify his stance on the matter. Josh swatted his hand away, clearly annoyed with his actions but trying to keep his composure.

“Ten dollars is really going to kill you? Ten fucking dollars?” Josh fought back, his eyebrows knitted together similar to how Jake’s looked when he was upset. Jake turned fully, sliding his arm around you so he did not have to lose contact while he watched his brothers argue. You couldn’t help but feel the familiar swarm of butterflies overtake your stomach once again.

“Maybe it is, ‘cause it’s ten dollars I don’t have to spend!”

“You’re cheap, Sam.” Josh responded, his lips turning down into a frown.

“It’s okay. We can walk, it’s not that far.” Daniel said, breaking the tension with a hand on both of their shoulders. “We can stop at the corner store and grab another case of beer on the way back.” Danny offered. “They won’t deliver that, anyway.” With a huff through his nose, Josh eventually gave a nod.

“Fine, we can walk, but that’s not my point.” He said, stepping away from the two to grab his wallet and his shirt. “You know I’m right, you just won’t admit it.” He pointed a finger at Sam, his tone grave.

“God, you two really are twins.” You whispered, looking sideways at Jake.

“What can I say? We’re stubborn.” Jake gave a slight shrug of his shoulder.

“That’s putting it lightly.” You giggled, turning back to the three standing together.

“We’re going to get pizza,” Josh announced. “And we’re walking, because ten dollars split five ways is just too much for Sam.” You stifled a laugh, biting down on the inside of your lip so you did not further the tension in the air. “And we’re going to the gas station, I guess. Care to join?” Josh asked, looking suspiciously between the two of you. You glanced at Jake, waiting for him to answer first. When he realized all three of them were staring at you, he slowly removed his arm from your waist.

“No, I’ll stay, I think.” He cleared his throat, looking at you as he awaited your response.

“Yeah, me too.” You nodded, forcing a small smile despite your anxiety about the situation you’d found yourselves in.

“Figures.” Josh gave a cheeky smile, slipping his shirt over his head. “We’ll be back, please don’t forget that.” He continued as the other two boys stepped towards the fence gate. You felt your cheeks burn, looking down towards the water to avoid the staring. “You guys want anything? As long as Sam doesn’t deem it too expensive to buy?”

“Shove it, Josh.” Sam muttered, unlatching the metal lock as he pushed open the wooden door. “Be back soon!” He called over his shoulder as the other two followed him out. When the gate slammed closed, the lock clicked itself shut, sealing the two of you alone inside your backyard.

You shook your head, chuckling at the scene that had just unfolded before looking over to your best friend, who already seemed to find himself staring at you. Without a word, you took a few steps forward in the water, reaching out for the floatie Sam had abandoned when pizza was mentioned. Jake followed closely behind you, likely scheming another way to disrupt your day of relaxation. You pulled the brightly coloured tube towards you, steadying yourself as you centered it with your body. With one strong push, you pulled yourself up out of the water and lurched forward, heaving a sigh of relief as you landed on the tube. You turned around, careful not to fall off, and settled your ass in the middle. With a small smile, you relaxed and let your arms hang over the side, your fingers grazing the surface of the water as you looked up at the sky.

Jake was beside you, smiling to himself as he watched you. “You look comfortable.” He noted, propping his arms on the side of the floatie and resting his chin on it as he gazed up at your face.

“I am.” You agreed, looking at him through the corner of your eye. “And I’d like to stay that way, if you don’t mind.”

“You always think the worst of me, sweetheart.” He laughed quietly to himself, seemingly lost in thought about something other than the topic at hand. “Do you remember the year we bought that cheap inflatable pool? We put it in your backyard and sat in it all summer.”

“Yeah,” you laughed at the thought, closing your eyes as you recalled the memory. “It was that summer before senior year. My car broke down on the way to Walmart. Took us all damn day to even get the thing.”

“We got it though, after Josh came to the rescue.” He reminded you.

“That pool was like four feet wide, max. I have no idea how the two of us even fit in it.” You grinned. “And it looked like a watermelon. The cashier thought we were idiots.”

“Because we are.” He laughed, turning his head to the side so his cheek was laying on his arm and his eyes were stuck on you.

“Yeah, we were.” You nodded, bringing your hand to his face and brushing the stray hairs away from his eyes. You knew you shouldn’t, and that the touch was too intimate for a friendly relationship, but you couldn’t help it. You wanted to touch him all of the time and never have to worry about anything else.

“Did you ever think we would end up here, in a real pool, living as sort-of neighbors almost ten years later?” He asked, reminiscing on the years of memories shared between the two of you.

“No.” You shook your head, only telling him a half-truth. You didn’t think you would end up like this, but you had always hoped you would. Actually, you always hoped you would end up like you were months before, living together in the same home, sharing a bed every night. Although you had what you once dreamed of, it wasn’t in the way you wanted it to be. As much as you enjoyed your brief stay at Jake’s house, you knew it was for the best that you left. You couldn’t keep hoping for love when you knew it wasn’t possible. You couldn’t open yourself up to the idea, because you couldn’t stomach the thought of losing him.

“I miss you living with me.” He confessed, his cheeks rosy from the liquor coursing through his veins. He would never have harnessed the courage to admit it sober, but he felt like he needed to get it off his chest, just in case you felt the same. “My bed is weirdly empty without you in it.” You felt frozen in place, his words hitting you much harder than they should have. You didn’t want to speak, fearful that the moment meant more to you than it did to him, so instead you sat, staring at him with parted lips and surprise in your eyes. “Sorry, that was weird. I didn’t mean—“

“S’okay, Jake.” You smiled, letting your hand fall from his face to his bicep. You gave his arm a small squeeze, reassuring him that it was alright. “I miss it too. I think I jumped the gun with buying a house. It’s nice, and I am excited, but it’s lonely, I guess.”

“Why did you leave?” He asked, the words coming out too quick for him to possibly stop them. As you looked over his expression, you realized it was a question he’d been dying to ask since you told him that you were moving out.

“Oh,” you breathed, swallowing hard as you tried to come up with a quick lie. “I, uh, I didn’t want you to get sick of me. I felt bad, like I was a freeloader and you were doing charity work.” You forced a smile on your face, trying to make the situation lighter by joking, but he didn’t seem to take it as such. His eyebrows furrowed, and a flash of pain crossed his eyes.

“You know I would never feel that way, Y/N. I waited for you, you know? Till you were finished school, for when you had a job and you knew what you wanted to do… I waited for you to call me and tell me you wanted to be with me again.” Your heart sped and your stomach sunk. As sweet as the sentiment was, you couldn’t help but feel yourself grow defensive over the idea. He was being far too romantic for a man who never once seemed keen on being more than friends.

“I just… I had to, Jake, okay?” You rushed out, scared he would back you into a corner and make you confess the one thing you wanted to keep secret. The pain on his face made you regret the words immediately, and you knew that fighting was the last thing you wanted to do. “I’m sorry.” You breathed, trying to focus and understand the jumble of words plaguing your brain. You wanted to be honest, to tell the truth, but every time you came close, you thought you might be sick. “I loved living with you, Jake. I think it was the happiest I’ve ever been, but I don’t want you to get sick of me, and I think that being roommates with someone you love so much is a tricky thing. I… losing you would be the worst thing in the whole world.”

“You’re ridiculous, Y/N.” His words were harsh, but his lips were upturned into a smile. “In all of the years I’ve known you, I’ve never been sick of you, and I never will be.” He said, the certainty in his tone making your head spin. “But hey, we got a pool. That has to count for something.�� You liked the sound of his words, making it seem like you two were more than best friends. If not a couple, then definitely a team.

“We did get a pool.” You grinned, only slightly guilty that you had such a hard time returning his sweet words.

As always, you were terrified that it would mean something different to him than it did to you.

“You know what the best thing about a pool is?” He asked, his eyes scanning the still surface of the water.

“Hmm?” You hummed, naive to believe his question was innocent.

“It makes it so easy to annoy you.” He answered, giving you no time to register his words before he backed away from the tube and dipped his hands below it. With a strong push, he flipped it over and sent you tumbling into the water again.

You were so shocked at the suddenness of his actions that you forgot to hold your breath, finding yourself choking on water as you forced your way back to the surface. When your head popped back up, you were too busy coughing to notice Jake’s echoing laughter. When he noticed your distress, the amusement disappeared and concern replaced it. He pushed the tube out of the way, swimming towards you as you continued to clear your lungs of any water that remained.

“Hey,” Jake said, now in front of you as he reached out to hold you. “Are you okay?” He asked, looking over your face as you took in a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, trouble. I was just messing around.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright.” You nodded, noticing the closeness of his body as his hands lingered on your arms. “You’re a dick.” You snipped, fully recovered as a grin blossomed on your cheeks.

“Seriously, you’re okay?” He disregarded your insult completely, still concerned with your well-being.

“Yeah, I’m good.” You nodded, reaching out and placing a hand on his side under the water to reassure him of the fact. He was so close, so comfortable and alluring. You couldn’t seem to pull yourself away from him, remembering how nice the physical contact felt with him. He didn’t seem to be in a rush to part ways with you, either, his eyes locked with yours and his hands anchored in position.

Instead of dwelling on the yearning of your heart, you took advantage of the moment and used all of the force you could muster to push him. He lost his footing under the pressure and stumbled backwards, his upper half crashing into the water as he sank below the surface with a splash. With a laugh stuck in your throat, you watched him fight his way above water as he suffered through your revenge. When he was back on his feet, there was a fire in his eyes and a devious smile on his face.

“No, Jake, we’re even now.” You pleaded, pointing a finger of warning in his direction as he began to move towards you.

“Uh-huh.” He nodded, clearly in disagreement with you.

“Seriously, stop!” You exclaimed, backing away from him as he closed in on you. Before you could get away, he was in front of you and his hands landed on your hips. In a moment of desperation, you locked your legs around his waist as he lifted you off your feet, cementing the idea in his head that if you went down, he was coming with you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging to him as closely as you could to deter his attack. “I swear to god, Jake, stop!” You let out a shriek of laughter, preparing for his unforgiving nature one last time, but it never came.

Instead, he seemed frozen in place, immobile from the position you had forced upon him. When the adrenaline faded and you understood he was making no further effort to dunk you under the water, your sanity returned and so did your self-awareness. In your desperation to avoid his shenanigans, you had clung to him in such a way that his face was settled on your chest, and your legs wrapped around him so tightly that you had put him in a very compromising position. If that wasn’t enough to embarrass you, your actions not only seemed to cause a short circuit in his brain, but a growing problem in his pants. A problem that was so imminent you could feel it.

You were certain he could feel your heartbeat through your chest as his chin rested on top of your breasts, propped up by the padded material of your bikini top. Your hands tangled in the hair on the back of his neck did not make the scene any less explicit than it already was, and perhaps the worst part of it all was that shame seemed like a far away feeling, covered completely by need for him. For a moment, you weren’t lifelong best friends, nor were you afraid of any consequences. You were a woman consumed with desire for the person below you, and it seemed as though he was a man gone mad. You feared you had the signal mixed up, that you were so lost in your own feelings for him that you were confusing his feelings for you. Then, his hands on your hips slid backwards, cautious and careful as his grip settled on your ass.

You took in a shaky breath, the touch electrifying your entire body. In reaction, without thinking, you shifted downwards on him. Somewhere deep in his chest, a low groan sounded as his fingers tightened on you. The skimpy bikini bottoms left little to the imagination as he pulled you down on him further, his cock pressing against your clothed core. Your eyes fluttered closed, wondering if you were dreaming or if the euphoric feeling of being so close was actually a reality. You turned your head downwards, finding him already looking up at you with an unfamiliar look in his eye. He straightened his upper half, his face lifting from your chest and advancing unusually close to your own. You could smell the alcohol on his breath as the tip of his nose brushed against yours, and it was driving you close to insanity.

You wanted to taste him, to feel his lips on yours and explore the possibilities that were presenting themselves. You could feel how hard he was, how badly he needed the relief similar to yourself. Your mouth was watering at the idea of feeling him, and you were aching at the fantasy of finally having him in a way you only ever dreamed of.

The tips of his fingers traced the outline of your bikini bottoms, curious and eager to go further. Why wasn’t he pulling away? Why was he letting this go so far without saying a word to stop it? Could he really feel the same way? There were too many questions, and you did not care much for the answer as you lowered your hips on him a little further. As you did so, the friction from the movement gave you a sense of relief. A quiet whine forced its way through your teeth, and you were unable to stop it before it reached his ears.

“Careful, trouble.” He whispered, his voice husky and the vibration of his chest rattling your own. His lips were so close to yours, nearly brushing yours as he moved them to speak. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.” His tone of voice made it hard to decipher if his statement was a warning or an invitation.

“Who said I can’t finish it?” You challenged, desperate to keep him there for a little while longer. You weren’t ready to give him up just yet.

“You know better.” He said, the words forced like he hated to say it. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Why not?” You challenged, your face inching closer to his own as you awaited a proper answer.

“God,” he hissed, sucking a sharp breath in through his teeth. “You always make it so fucking hard to do the right thing.” This time, he pulled you down on him, unable to resist the temptation of feeling you on him.

Before you could get to the bottom of his ambiguous words, voices filled the air through the screen door of your kitchen and a rush of fear filled you. The grating sound of the tread on the door against the frame caused you to recoil away from Jake, pushing yourself backwards as if you had never been in the confusing situation at all. As bodies filled the patio, laughing and completely unaware of what they interrupted, you looked to Jake to see what he was thinking. As if it was some kind of sick joke, his face was plastered with undeniable disappointment, and behind his eyes, there was a glimmer of hurt.

You thought you might be sick. Your head was pounding and your stomach was twisted with anxiety. To make matters even worse, you were still aching for relief, aching to be back in his arms with your body pressed against his. Surely there was no way in hell that he wanted it too, and you tried to convince yourself you were crazy for thinking so, but the sadness on his face told you a completely different story. His lack of care about the position and his enjoyment of the moment was obvious, but it was too much to process all at once.

Instead, you decided to pretend that it never happened at all. Of course, it was the most painful thing to do, but in his own words, it was the right thing to do.

“Jesus, what happened? You both look like you saw a ghost.” Josh asked, his voice booming and breaking you both from the storm of emotions consuming you. There was a smile on his lips and clear ignorance to what the group had interrupted. You cleared your throat, shaking the emotions away as you noticed the group had doubled in size since the three had left. The boys partners had been planning on joining after work, but in lieu of the whirlwind of events, the knowledge seemed to slip your mind.

“No, all good.” You assured him, glancing at Jake to see he’d made a quick recovery, too.

“Hope you don’t mind the extra company.” Josh grinned, setting a pizza box down on the patio table.

“No, f’course not. The more the merrier, right?” You forced a smile, but you knew everyone could tell that it wasn’t genuine. You hoped that they didn’t misconstrue the dishonesty behind it, because it had nothing to do with extra bodies surrounding the pool, but rather the boy stuck in there with you.

“Right.” Josh nodded, smiling at his partner beside him. “Come and eat, trouble.” He said, nodding his head to the chairs you and Jake had sat in not long before.

“Yeah, okay.” You breathed, giving a curt nod. “You coming?” You asked Jake, feeling guiltier by the second.

“Yeah,” he nodded, his voice hoarse as his eyes connected with yours. “Just give me a minute.” He whispered, just loud enough for you to hear. Your cheeks burned at his words, realizing what he meant and why he had to stay. “Please?” He pleaded, knowing that having you in the pool beside him was not helping his situation.

“Yeah, okay.” You nodded, nervous as you repeated the same words as earlier. In a rush, you swam towards the ladder and hoisted yourself up. You climbed out of the pool, shuffling towards the group as you tried to pull yourself together. You grabbed a towel from the back of a chair as you approached the group, drying your hands before quickly wiping the water from your limbs. Sam seemed enamored with his partner, barely noticing anything that was happening around them, and Daniel was amidst a painful bout of flirting with the girl he’d been talking to for weeks now. You felt good, confident that nobody was suspicious of you and what happened while they were gone, until your eyes locked with Josh’s.

He cocked his head to the side, a playful smirk on his lips as he raised an eyebrow. Plagued with guilt and embarrassment, you cowered under his stare, giving him all the answer he needed. In true Josh fashion, he couldn’t have cared less about what happened so long as he knew for a fact that something happened. He was selective with his need for gossip, never caring about the details but desperate to know that his suspicions were correct, especially when it came to you and Jake. Thankfully, the intensity of the moment dissipated as people began to fill the chairs around the table. Paper plates were passed around as pizza was served, and Jake had recovered enough to get out of the pool and join the rest of you.

Sam’s girlfriend was in his lap on the chair, and Danny was sitting next to his new fling, taking up two seats. Josh, seeing the opportunity to further his torment of you and Jake, took one of the two remaining chairs and offered it to his boyfriend. Then, he threw a folded towel on the ground and took a seat in front of him, between his legs. With a devilish smile, he looked to you and Jake, awkwardly glancing at the only available seat left with plates of food in your hand.

“You take it, trouble.” Jake said, motioning his head towards the chair. “I’m fine sitting on the ground.”

“No, Jake. You take it.” You shook your head, unwilling to make him sit on the ground after you had hurt his feelings.

“Come on, don’t be like that.” He frowned, too stubborn to take it from you.

“Here’s an idea,” Josh pitched in his two cents, sipping his drink before continuing. “You could both sit on the chair so neither of you have to sit on the ground?” He offered, raising an eyebrow. You shot him a glare, expecting nothing less but hoping to be proven wrong. “What? You guys shared a bed for months, but sitting on his lap is too much?” Josh was desperate for a reaction, desperate for the two of you to fess up about how you felt for each other, and he was playing devils advocate to get his way. “Unless there’s a problem, trouble?” He pushed a little harder, but you stood your ground in hopes of silencing him.

“No, no problem at all, as long as you’re okay with that.” You looked at Jake, who gave a shrug. He knew just as well as you did what his twin brother was trying to do, but arguing with him never got you anywhere.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” He nodded, taking a seat on the chair. He outstretched his arms towards you, inviting you in with great pleasure as if the awkward moment in the pool never happened at all. He had a paper plate clutched in one hand and a beer in the other with a dopey smile on his lips and rosy cheeks. Despite all of the days strange events, you could not seem to refute the fact that he was adorable.

You stepped towards him, careful as you placed your drink on the table. You sat, mindful not to hurt him as you shifted into a comfortable position in his lap. You twisted to the side, throwing both of your legs over his as you leaned back on him. He put his beer bottle into the cup holder in the arm of the chair and hooked his arm around your waist to hold you in position.

“How’s that?” He asked, just loud enough for you to hear.

“Good.” You squeaked, unable to confess how much you truly enjoyed it. He placed his paper plate on your leg, and within seconds, the awkwardness dissolved into nothing.

You ate, laughing at the topics the boys were discussing (and arguing about), pretending like it was just another normal day for you, but your mind couldn’t help but wander back to the incident in the pool. You couldn’t stop thinking about his hands on you, testing his limit as they travelled over your skin. Your mind only wanted to remember how close his face was to yours, his warm breath on your skin and his nose brushing your own. More than that, you couldn’t seem to forget the way he felt underneath you, worked up from the position alone and nothing else. Over and over again the memory of him pulling your hips down on his filled your mind, and it didn’t take long for the incessant ache began between your legs yet again.

Truth be told, it was not the first time the two of you found yourselves in a compromising position—in fact, it happened more often than not, but this time, it seemed intentional. There was no shying away, and both of you seemed content with progressing further had there been no interruptions. Back when you lived with him, finding yourself sleeping in his bed more often than not, compromising positions were the only way you ever started your day. Whether you woke up, your face resting comfortably on his chest and his hand on your hip to hold you in place, or if you were on your side with his chest pressed against your back and his hand nestled under your shirt on your stomach. Closeness was not foreign to you and Jake, and unfortunately, neither was sexual tension.

Most mornings, more so when he found himself as the big spoon, your ass pressed against him did little to help keep things platonic. It was always a struggle to force yourself out of bed, to pretend you didn’t notice a thing so he did not feel ashamed or embarrassed about his own actions, because you wanted nothing more than to stay in bed and take care of the problems for him.

In fact, you were certain there was not a problem in the world you wouldn’t take pleasure in solving for him.

But today, you were conscious, both aware of the consequences and uncaring of them. He was willingly holding you there, testing his limits in the process, and he was sad when you pulled away. That was something you did not expect from him, and it was the very thing that was causing all of the overthinking in the first place. Did he really want you, or was he just being a guy, desperately infatuated by a woman no matter who she was? Was his sexual frustration your doing, or a result of a sexual draught he’d been caught in for months? You and Jake had always dated other people, but it usually never extended beyond hookups and talking stages. Since you’d moved in with him, neither of you even bothered to search for a date or a person to bring home after the bar. At first, you thought you were doing it out of respect for him and a dislike for the idea of having sex with someone else in his house, but you quickly understood that it was much more than that.

You didn’t want to date or hookup with anyone, because you wanted to do it with him. It had nothing to do with respect, and everything to do with your feelings towards the one boy you shouldn’t feel that way about.

You were confused, anxious, and worried that the instance might change the dynamic of your friendship, especially if any of your previous questions were answered with something undesirable. You wanted him to want you. You wanted him to love you, in the same undying and relentless way that you loved him, but it was far too much to ask of him. You didn’t want him to sleep with you because he was in a dry spell; you wanted him to sleep with you because he wanted you, rather than just for sex. The longer you thought about it, the more you realized you had been feeling this way for much longer than you ever realized it.

“Y/N?” Jake asked, shaking you slightly. You snapped back to reality by the burning feeling of his palm on your bare thigh. You turned your head towards him, wondering what he wanted and how long you had been zoned out for. You gazed around the circle of friends, realizing that all eyes were on you. The embarrassment began to eat you alive as you mustered out a hum of acknowledgment. “Josh was wondering if you wanted to play Pizza Box.” He repeated, his hand still lingering on your skin.

“Yeah, I love Pizza Box.” You nodded, looking down at his hand. You couldn’t help but think of how good it looked, decorating your leg and holding you as if you were his.

“What’s Pizza Box?” The girl sitting next to Daniel spoke, laughing nervously as Josh began to break down the cardboard box on the table.

“You see, my dear friend, it’s a game of great strategy.” Josh began, shaking off the crumbs onto the concrete.

“It’s a drinking game.” Jake corrected, rolling his eyes at his brother.

“Yes, a drinking game of great strategy!” Josh continued, finding a quarter at the bottom of his bag.

“It’s not, Sierra.” You cut in, reassuring her of the fact. “It’s super random and it’s really fun.”

“Okay,” she breathed a sigh of relief, looking at Danny and giving him a smile. He reached out and placed a hand on her knee, giving it a small squeeze.

“There is a science and I will not take any further arguments on the matter.” Josh snipped, fishing around in his bag for a sharpie. You played the game so often that he never left home without one.

“I learned about it at a frat party in my first year at college.” You shut him down once more, enjoying the frustration on his face. “We play it every time we drink. Basically, we’re going to write everyone’s name on the box and circle it. We take turns throwing the quarter, and if it lands on someone’s name, they have to take a drink.” She nodded along, following your instruction carefully. “If it lands in an empty space on the box, the person who threw the quarter gets to write a rule, as big or as small as they’d like, and if the quarter lands on that, we have to do whatever it says.”

“Oh, that’s not too hard, then.”

“No, it’s not, and it’s really fun, I promise.” You smiled. “Be prepared to get drunk, though. There’s a lot of drinking in this one.” You warned. Your eyes turned back to Josh, watching him as he wrote everyone’s name down and tried to keep them the same size. He circled his own name last, then pushed the table to the center of the circle.

“Alright, Lena. You want to start?” Josh asked, looking at Sam’s girlfriend. She gave a nod, holding out her hand. Josh tossed the quarter in her direction. She caught it, focusing for a moment before tossing it down on the table. The coin landed on Sam’s name, almost perfectly in the middle, and she let out a laugh at the sight.

“Hey!” Sam complained, furrowing his eyebrows. “You’re supposed to be on my team!”

“Not a team game, Sammy. Drink up.” You smirked. With a huff and an eye roll, he did as he was told. Lena leaned forward and grabbed the quarter, handing it to the boy sitting on the chair underneath her. He gave it a lazy toss, landing on a blank spot next to Roman’s name. Josh’s boyfriend let out a sigh of relief, knowing he narrowly avoided the sentence to drink.

“Uhm,” Sam hummed aloud, trying his best to think of a rule. “Players who land on the spot can’t swear for the rest of the game. Every time they do, they have to drink. You can write it for me.” Josh nodded, leaning forward and circling the words ‘swearing = drink’. Sierra grabbed the coin, sitting back in her chair as she looked around the board. With a targeted throw, she landed on Danny’s name. Without complaint, he sipped at his beer, then took his own turn.

By the time the circle was complete and Lena was ready to take her turn again, mostly everyone had been sentenced to drink with the exception of you. Now, the group had a pact to shoot for your name. Lena tried, but missed entirely, which came a new rule of ‘boys drink’. Sam missed and hit Jake’s name, and Sierra landed on Josh’s name. Danny made the new rule of ‘girls drink’ to counter Lena, and Roman landed on it when he took his turn. The board filled quickly, now including rules pertaining to shenanigans rather than drinking. Jake added one, stating that if the player landed on it, they had to swim a lap of the pool. Sienna added one in which the player had to attempt at a cartwheel.

The board was filled enough that the rules began to slow, and the fun began. With a reluctant round of clinking beer bottle necks, the boys took a drink. Josh tried (and failed) to do a cartwheel on the grass, and Jake had to swim a lap in the pool, grumbling about his own rules being used against him. When he returned to the chair to sit, you refused to let him back on it, giggling as you reasoned with him.

“I just dried off! It’ll be cold and wet and gross, and it’s starting to get dark out!” You complained, anchoring your hands on the arm of the chair.

“We can do this the easy way, or the hard way, trouble.” He bargained, sopping wet as he stood before you with his arms crossed over his chest.

“My chair, my rules!” You cried, hooking your legs around the legs of the chair. He chuckled to himself, leaning down and snaking his arms around your midsection.

With ease, he lifted you from your spot, the chair lifting with you. You held on for as long as you could, but eventually had to loosen your grip. It clattered back against the concrete and Jake let out a sigh of relief. He hooked an arm below your knees to hold you bridal-style as he sat back down, placing you on top of him. You tried to scramble away, but he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you back on him as you shrieked with laughter. Now just as damp as he was, you knew the fight was a fruitless endeavor. You relaxed against him, your skin littered with goosebumps from the chill of the night.

“What was that about your chair?” Jake asked, the vibration of his chest ringing against your back as you leaned against him. His chin was resting on your shoulder, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“Shut up, Kiszka.” You muttered, mumbling a thanks to Josh as he handed you the coin. The alcohol and laughter did wonders at easing the tension between you and Jake, and you were barely thinking about the pool incident any more. Even as you sat atop of him, closer than usual, things felt normal, and it felt good to know that the situation did not change anything between you.

You tossed the quarter, and it landed on the corner of the box, right atop a little blank space in the corner. You leaned back, turning your head towards Jake so you could whisper something in his ear. He leaned forward, catching on to your intent as he waited to hear what you have to offer.

“I’m thinking skinny dipping?” You whispered, your nose brushing against his cheek as he turned to look at you. At first, he was surprised at your words, his eyes wide and his mind running at a mile a minute, but he looked to the box and quickly realized what you meant. Before he made his misinterpretation too obvious, he gave a nod.

“Good one.” He hummed. You leaned toward, grabbing the marker and writing the words down before encasing it in a circle.

“Ah, so that’s how we’re playing this tonight.” Josh announced, an evil grin taking over his face. At the sound of his words, your stomach plummeted, realizing what you had opened the door to in your moment of mindlessness. “Sounds good to me!”

“What does that mean?!” You whispered to Jake, nervous about what the future held.

“I wouldn’t worry, trouble. It’s just Josh.” He assured you. He had his hand on your hip, holding you close as he reassured you, and it felt good. Almost too good as you tried to bargain with yourself not to cross any boundaries.

The circle went around a few more times, and the night began to take over. The stars glimmered in the black sky and the moonlight casted a white light over the group. You were all long last tipsy, and growing more intense as the game progressed. Roman and Josh had been whispering amongst themselves for the past few turns, clearly planning something grand. Roman carefully aimed when his turn came around, making sure he landed on one of the few empty spaces left.

“Couples kiss.” He said, smiling as Josh reached for the coin. He took his time, and landed on another empty space.

“Singles kiss.” He announced, writing the words much larger than necessary. Your stomach twisted with unease as Josh sat back in his original position, turning his head towards you as he slid the quarter across the table. You gave him a scowl as you reached for it, knowing exactly what he was playing at. Carefully, in hopes of avoiding the biggest circle on the board, you threw the coin. It slid as it landed, making your heart speed, but stopped on Jake’s name.

“Hey,” he complained, a frown on his lips.

“Drink up, buttercup.” You smiled, still too on edge to be relieved. You knew that nobody else would take that much caution in avoiding the space, which made it all the more frustrating for you. Josh had you in stalemate, and he wasn’t backing down until he finished the whole thing.

The circle went around, and with every coin toss, you felt yourself relax into Jake a little bit more. So far, you were in the clear, and you worries began to ease. Perhaps you were a little too comfortable in your assumptions, because when Roman took his turn, his quarter landed suspiciously close to the new rule Josh had added moments before. When Josh took his turn, he was carefully positioned and calculated. As his quarter landed on the board, he tried to keep the frown from forming.

“Couples kiss!” He announced, forcing a fake smile. With that, Josh and Sam both turned to their partners, keeping it sweet and simple. Your turn gave the girls a round of drinks, and as you handed the quarter to Jake, you prayed he would have the same caution as you did. Of course, you couldn’t expect anything from Jake when he was drunk, and as soon as the coin was in his hand, he tossed it without a second thought.

You watched in horror as the coin landed on its side and began an agonizing roll towards the exact spot you wanted to avoid. As if the world was in slow motion, you felt like you could feel every second pass as the coin hit a divot in the box, halting its rapid roll and wobbling in its path. Eventually, it pathetically dropped to its side, and your blood went cold. Below it, the word kiss was covered by the shiny silver, and the only word visible in the circle that surrounded it was the word ‘singles’.

Through his own carelessness, Jake had sealed his own fate, and you knew Josh would never let it go, at least not without a good fight.

what do you guys think will happen in part two ☺️ I can’t wait to hear your thoughts 🤍

306 notes · View notes

promise-you-doie · 4 months ago

Text

Best Friend Ever | S. Eunseok

Eunseok x (f) Reader | Fake dating to lovers

Word count: 20k

Warnings: Cursing, suggestive

Genre: Fluff, Suggestive

playlist

A college student rejecting attention is taken aback when a famous athlete asks them out. Confused and suspicious, they confront their past experiences and insecurities as they navigate a newfound curiosity about the athlete's intentions. The story explores personal growth, unexpected connections, and the courage to leave one's comfort zone.

The college classroom buzzed with the low murmur of students chatting and the occasional squeak of chairs being pulled out. Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room. In the middle of it all sat You, Your eyes drifting lazily around the room as you waited for class to end, your mind already elsewhere, disinterested in the present.

A sigh, heavy with restlessness, escapes your lips as you rest your chin in the palm of your hand. Your other hand is used to tap the head of your pen against your laptop, a rhythmic echo of your impatience. You try to divert your eyes from reading the time, but you can't help but glance at it here and there, each glance a testament to your mounting anticipation.

You startle when a small note lands on your desk, seemingly out of nowhere. Intrigued, you open it, ignoring the sensation of someone's gaze on the back of your head.

The note simply reads "Hey," followed by a smiley face, but you know exactly who it's from.

You whip your head around to face your best friend three rows behind you. Sohee's wearing a wide grin on his face when he waves at you. But you only glare in return, a mix of annoyance and amusement in your eyes, before turning back around to face your boredom. Once again just waiting for-

"That's all for today. Class is dismissed." Your professor's voice echoes through the room, and you can almost feel the collective sigh of relief. It's all you need to slam your laptop shut and jump out of your seat, joining the rush of students eager to leave.

Sohee is already standing at the door waiting for you, mainly because he saved a lot of time by not having to pack up. You always thought he only attended lectures to distract you, but he would always argue differently.

As soon as you meet him by the door, he throws his arm around you and pulls you along with him, guiding you out of the classroom before the rest of the students come trampling over you.

"I'm starving," Sohee mumbles, his voice barely audible over the bustling noise of the hallway, a cacophony of footsteps, chatter, and the occasional laughter. He winces when you push him away from you.

"People already think we're dating," you say, your eyes scanning the passing students, each of them engrossed in their own world.

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"That's because it is. I don't like people getting the wrong idea," you say, your voice tinged with a hint of unease.

"I know what it is?" Sohee taunts, his finger jabbing the air. "You're afraid you'll fall for me if I stand too close."

You roll your eyes, trying to dismiss the thought. "I can guarantee you that's not the case." Sohee hums in disagreement and continues walking ahead of you until you have to follow up with him.

This was the nature of your relationship. Sohee often liked to hint that maybe you were into him as more than just friends, and you'd be there to shoot it down every time.

It was annoying sometimes, but Sohee was like a brother to you. You expected him to be annoying.

"What should we eat? Burgers? Pasta? Pizza?" Your best friend begins to list off. He waved his finger around in the air as if he were actually flipping through the options.

"We should go for-" "Y/n." A somewhat familiar voice stops you mid-sentence.

You didn't have to turn around to know that Eunseok was calling for you. You were only confused as to why. After all, you and Eunseok existed in starkly different worlds.

He was the star of the school. D-1 athlete, attending on a full scholarship. It's impossible to live in the same city as him and not know who he was. The same didn't apply to you.

No one knew who you were. Not because you were super shy and avoided attention, but because you just preferred to hang out with your two friends, Sohee and Ningning, and binge on card games and pizza on Friday nights, a quiet and content life that you cherished.

So why would Song Eunseok, a well-known college basketball player, be calling out for you?

"Hey," He says when he finally meets up with you, his voice a mix of nervousness and determination.

"Hello?" You say, confused. Sohee, obviously just as puzzled as you are, bunches his eyebrows together and sticks his lips out into a subtle pout.

"Will you go on a date with me?" Eunseok's unexpected question hangs in the air.

Things were just getting weirder and weirder. Him picking you out in a crowd of people was odd enough, but now he was asking you out on a date.

There's only one logical explanation for this.

He was pranking you. You had your fair share of brutal jokes, especially among ruthless high school boys who always made it clear that no one would ever seriously be into you.

You thought things like that only happened in grade school, but old habits do die hard.

You snark. "No, thank you." The words come out harsher than you intended.. You attempt to walk away, assuming he'll accept the rejection and leave you alone. You should've known better.

"Please," he pleads, halting you in your tracks. You pivot and stride back toward him.

"I'm not falling for any of your tricks."

"One date." He holds each of his hands up in the air. "No tricks, I promise." The look on his face tells you that he's being genuine. Yet, you still look to your best friend for an answer.

Except he only shrugs. You don't know what you were expecting from him anyway. He was never helpful before, and he won't be beneficial now.

"When?" You ask, turning back to Eunseok.

"Are you busy right now?" He shoots.

"Umm..."

Eunseok pulls out the chair so you can sit down first. You accept his offer and place your bag on the floor beside you. You notice how empty the lunchroom is.

"If you wanna get into my pants, you're gonna have to do a lot better than this." You comment, your voice echoing in the empty school cafeteria.

"I'm not trying to get in your pants." Eunseok's voice cuts through the silence, and his glare makes you feel small and insignificant. You shift in your seat at the sudden discomfort.

"Well then... What do you want?" You hesitated, trying to read his true intentions.

"I need you to be my girlfriend," he replied casually as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"You need me to?" Leaning in closer, you were intrigued, eager to understand his unconventional request.

"My family is starting to think I'm gay." He admits, and it makes you jump back. Who would've thought that star athlete Song Eunseok was battling with his sexuality?

"I'm not," he says with a knowing look as if he could hear every thought racing through your mind.

"Huh?" You blink in astonishment, your eyes widening, and shift in your chair, the leather creaking beneath you as you settle back in.

"Look, I just need you to meet my family here and there. Nothing serious."

"Are you asking me to fake a relationship with you?"

"Yes, exactly." He nods with a severe expression, showing no sign of amusement. It was as if he had done this before.

"I'm not interested," you declare firmly, rising from your seat and gathering your belongings.

Eunseok's voice quivers with desperation as he says, "I'll pay you," attempting to entice you to stay.

You express your disdain by poking your tongue through your cheek. The sound of your bag dropping to the floor fills the room as you turn to face him. "Money doesn't sway me. You can't just dangle it over my head and expect me to jump when you tell me to," you assert, pressing your palms onto the table.

To your surprise, Eunseok smirks. "You're a smart, independent woman," he says, and you nod.

"I am."

"I admire that about you." He stands up so that now you have to look up at him. "Which is why I chose you of all people."

"That's flattering. How much are you paying."

"Wait, you're dating him?" Sohee exclaims, yanking his head out of your empty fridge.

You nod, "Yeah." Your lips pressed together. It wasn't easy to lie to your best friend, but you knew you had to. He had a terrible habit of just talking, talking to any and everyone about any and everything. One time, in fifth grade, you told him about a crush you had on some guy in your class. You don't remember how word got around to the entire school, but you remember that the tracks led right back to your loose-lipped best friend. The potential consequences of this secret being revealed were too significant to risk.

"So he asked, and you just said 'yes'? No questions asked?" Sohee asks, his voice filled with disbelief.

"Pretty much." You shrug.

Sohee ponders, his body plopping down on the couch in front of you. You could always tell when he was thinking because his bottom lip would poke out, and he scratched the back of his head. It was rather cute, but you'd never admit that aloud. "This doesn't make any sense." He finally mutters through a pout, his brows furrowing in confusion.

"What's not making sense?" You ask calmly, crossing your arms and leaning back against the sofa.

"Did he cast a spell on you or something?" He sits up. "You hate ball players."

"I do." You nod. "but he's different." You don't have to convince yourself you knew Eunseok very differently from the other sports players you were previously acquainted with. For starters, none of them would ever consider you to be their girlfriend, real or not.

"How would you know that after just one date?" Sohee almost shouts.

"Look, will you just trust me? I know what I'm doing." You said, your voice filled with a determination that Sohee had rarely heard before. He takes a deep breath and throws his head back against your small orange sofa. All the thinking was draining him.

"Do you trust me?"

"I guess I have no choice." Your best friend reassures you. Tiredly, rubbing his hands against his face.

"Good," you exclaimed with a smile, jumping up from your seat to stand in front of him with your hand held out. "Now, let's go get some food. I know you're hungry."

"You're not gonna start ditching me to hang out with your new boyfriend, right?" Sohee sits across from you in the diner that you frequented too often. Usually, you'd visit with Ningning, but she was pretty busy these days.

"He'll never get in between us."

"Promise?" He asks, peering up through his eyelashes.

You never made promises unless you knew for a fact you could keep them, which is why you wrapped your pinky finger around your best friends without a shadow of hesitation. You were certain you would never break this promise.

"It's so strange now that you have a boyfriend." Sohee breaths just as your phone begins to vibrate.

Eunseok: Hey, I need you.

You: First off, that sounds weird. And secondly, I can't. I'm busy

Eunseok: You need to be busy with me.

You: why are you so weird?

"I'm gonna ask for refills," Sohee announces, his voice cutting through the buzz of conversation in the air and causing you to pull your eyes away, momentarily captivated. "Alright," you reply with a smile, and as Sohee walks off, you feel the familiar buzz of your phone vibrating in your pocket, drawing your attention once again.

Eunseok: My family wants to meet you.

You: Hard pass; I'm hanging out with my best friend. Maybe next time :)

Eunseok: $100

You: I can't just leave him.

Eunseok: $250.

You: Deal.

Eunseok: Perfect, I'll meet you at your place.

"Are you leaving?" Sohee asks, his disappointment palpable in his voice."Sorry, Hee. I'll make it up to you, I promise." You rush, reaching into your wallet to leave a twenty-dollar bill on the table. While Sohee plops down in disbelief, his mouth slightly agape.

"What are you wearing?" Eunseok asks, leaning against his sleek silver 2021 Jeep Wrangler.

"I tried to be normal," you frown, looking down at your chosen outfit.

"Normal looks weird on you," he advises. "Go change."

"But your parents-" "Will like you, no matter what. Just be yourself," he cuts you off and grabs your shoulder to turn you back towards your apartment complex.

“And be fast.” He says last.

You ask, "How is this?" while standing in front of him, extending your arms so that he can take in your entire outfit. "Much better," he nods in approval and courteously opens the car door for you to get in. His car is immaculately clean and impressively modern. Nothing like you’d see any other college student drive, athlete or not. Maybe Eunseok was an exception because he wasn’t just any athlete but one of the best.

You can’t say you cared enough to know. You were more worried about other things.

“You don’t have any exes I need to know about, right?” You ask, “You know… anyone who still has unresolved feelings and isn’t really good at talking things out.”

“No one is going to show up at your door,” Eunseok reassures, his eyes focused on the road ahead, offering you a sense of security.

“And do you have STDs or anything?”

‘Why is that important?” He breaks his concentration to look at you.

“You’re right.” You nod, twirling your fingers and looking around until you see something outside of the window that catches your attention.

“Any other questions?” He asks through his smirk, one that you were already beginning to hate.

“Why me?” Eunseok opens his mouth to begin to speak, but you stop him before he can, “And don’t try that fake feminist bullshit on me. I know how you men are.” You add.

To which he lets out a small laugh, “You were the first person to come to mind because I knew I’d never fall for you, so I don’t have to worry about things getting complicated.”

It sounded harsh, but you were used to it. No guys ever looked in your direction. The ones that did only wanted one thing, and it wasn’t a cool, loving, caring girlfriend. The problem wasn’t that you were ugly. You were just too different. The way you talked, the things you liked, the way you dressed. You were far too strange for anyone to love you. Well, except for Sohee, of course, but that was only because he was a little strange himself.

“Likewise.” You hum and continue gazing out of the window.

When Eunseok reaches the driveway of his family home, he parks and turns almost his whole body around to face you. “Okay, first, I need your phone,” he demands with his hand out.

You ask, “What do you need my phone for?” Yet you still hold your phone in the palm of his hand and patiently wait for him to reveal his plan.

“Here you go.” He passes your phone back with his contact on display.

“My everything?” You read aloud, your eyebrows instinctively furrowing. You thought that was the worst of it, but when your phone closes, you catch a glimpse of his face on your lock screen. “No offense, but I don’t wanna see your face every time I open my phone.”

“You can change it back later.” He says unamused.

“Okay but who’s gonna believe that we're so in love after two days?” You ask, folding your arms.

“That reminds me, if they ask, we've been dating for three months.”

“Don’t you think they’ll find it strange that we’ve been dating for three months, and you haven’t mentioned having a girlfriend?” You question.

“Will you just trust me on this?” He asks, reminding you of when you asked Sohee the same question. You give him a half nod and breathe, “You’re the one paying me, so I guess I have to.”

Eunseok’s little brother greets him as soon as he gets out of his truck. Wrapping his small arms around Eunseok’s legs. “Hey, critter, where’s mom?”

The little boy you assume is around six years old, seeing as you could hear his lisp when he says, “She’s in the kitchen talking to dad. I don’t think they know you’re here yet.” And suddenly, the kid turns to you. His smile, no longer evident, was replaced with a look of concern. You mirror his expression as the boy asks, “Who’s this?”

“This is my girlfriend.” Eunseok introduces you, moving to rest his arm around your waist. Your initial instinct is to push him off of you and slap him, but you do your best to try and muster up a smile instead. The only problem is that you don’t know how to fake a smile, and you think you might’ve scared the boy while trying to.

“You couldn’t just say hi to my little brother?” Eunseok scolds you the second the small boy disappears into the house.

“Kids make me nervous.” You defend yourself as you pull his arm off of you. “This is gonna be an extra ten bucks, by the way.” You add, referring to his hand placements.

“Maybe I should’ve gone with someone else.”

“It’s not too late!” Your suggestion falls on deaf ears when he grabs your hand and guides you into his family home. Which you didn’t realize was so big until you got inside. Everything looked so expensive. “Woah, I didn’t know you were-”

“You’re here early. I haven’t even started prepping yet.” Eunseok's mother unintentionally cuts you off to welcome him into a hug. “And I’m assuming this is your girlfriend.” She adds, looking at you.

“Yeah, this is Y/n,” Eunseok speaks for you.

“Aren’t you just the prettiest thing.” You were never good with compliments, mainly because you weren’t used to getting them. So, while you should’ve smiled and replied with a humble “thank you.” You say, “I know.” Instead.

Eunseok's head swiftly turns in your direction, and his mom's smile drops. "I mean, Eunseok tells me that all the time. It's become a habit of his." Nice save, you think to yourself, noticing how Eunseok's shoulders relax.

"You're a very lucky girl. You know there's no one like my son."

"You're right; never in my life have I met anyone like Eunseok." You grin, knowing that you don't mean it the same way she does.

"I'd say I'm the lucky one. Y/n's top of her class and she just started her internship for a space program. Plus, she's funny and gorgeous, and she supports me. Not to mention, I've also never met anyone like her." Eunseok wraps his arm around you to pull you closer to him.

Strangely enough, you didn't feel the need to rip his arm off and punch him in the face like you wanted to the last time. Instead, you're more impressed that he even knew about your internship and thought you were funny. Although you were sure, he was just saying that to feed that facade you two had going on.

"I would just say we make a good match." You add.

As the older woman beams and compliments the both of you on how good you look together, you exhale in relief. But when Eunseok's father strides into the room, his gaze sweeping over you from head to toe, you realize his mom was just a warm-up act.

"You into fashion?" The older man's voice is so deep it echoes through your eardrums. Your knees buckled, and if it weren't for the hand that Eunseok kept firm around your waist, you would've run out of the door screaming.

"Uh, um, yeah. Well, no, actually. I mean, it's… cool… sometimes." You stumble over your words. Your heart races the more he looks at you; you feel like he knows everything. He knows you're lying to him; he knows you're accepting payment from his son to keep up this act, and he probably knows about that pen you stole from Sohee last week.

“I like it, it’s different.” His father says, referring to your outfit. “Good choice, you better treat her right.” He turns to the tall, younger male beside you.

“I intend to,” Eunseok responds.

“Why don’t you give her a tour of the house? I’ll call you down when dinner is ready.” His dad suggests and leaves you and Eunseok alone for a moment.

Rather than allowing Eunseok to guide you, you grab his wrist and pull him up the stairs to the first room you find, which, luckily for you, happens to be his room. You rush to lock the door and stomp back towards him. Your voice still shaky from the interaction with his father, you say, “I don’t wanna do this anymore.”

“What you have to.” Eunseok pleads.

“No, tell them I died in a tragic accident and that you can’t ever move on from me. That'll solve both of our problems.” You argue.

“It’s not that bad.” He says incredulously, holding his arms over his chest.

“It's not bad. It’s horrible.”

“My parents like you already, I can tell.” Eunseok pleads, attempting to convince you.

“That’s worse, you idiot.” You catch yourself from yelling too loud. “I’d rather they hate me so they won’t wanna see me again.”

Both of you take a break from arguing to respond to his mom when she asks. “How are you guys doing up there.”

“We’re fine.” You say in unison as you stare at him with the look of death.

“I can see why it’s so hard for you to get a girlfriend.” You insult. “After today, we’re done.”

“What? Are you breaking up with me?”

“I am.” You assure him as you walk away. Opening the door to find his brother on the opposite side. You pause for a moment, unsure of what to say or do. He blinks at you and you awkwardly coo, “Hey, little boy.”

“Are you really dating my brother?” The kid inquires, staring up at you with a puzzled expression.

“Umm, yeah.” You wanna roll your eyes. You couldn’t believe you were still going with this bit after arguing that you were done.

“That makes me happy because you’re really pretty. Do you wanna see my room?”

“Sure, why not.” You think aloud.

“Yay! Come on, it's this way.” The child cheers, tugging on your wrist to lead you to his room.

If possible, your body entered a whole other dimension. The model solar system scattered around the ceiling was the first thing that caught your attention. The life-sized astronaut standing in the corner of the room made your heart leap out of your chest. Hands down this was the coolest room you had ever seen in your life.

“What the fu-“ You stammer, catching yourself before you can finish your sentence.

“Don’t worry.” The boy sings, “I won’t tell anyone.”

Your joy came to a harsh halt, when Mr Song announced that dinner was ready. The small boy remained by your side while you glared at his older brother. You roll your eyes when Eunseok pulls a chair out for you and gestures for you to take a seat.

You accept the seat reluctantly, but refuse to thank him. The room is quiet, exactly how you prefer to keep it.

"How long have you been dating Eunseok?" His father abruptly interjects, shattering the fragile silence you had painstakingly maintained.

"Um." You gulp, your voice betraying the effort to conceal your discomfort, "Like three months… an- and a half?"

"Three months?" Mr Song repeats, turning to Eunseok. For a small moment all of the attention is off of you, which allows you to release the breath you've been holding for over five minutes. "How come we're just now finding out about her?"

The question makes you tap Eunseok's leg because you already warned him about this. "Just trust me." He said, but now he's stuttering and tripping over his words. "I- well, she-"

"It's my fault." You interrupt, "I wanted to make sure we were compatible before I just sprung myself on his family."

"Let me just say we are absolutely delighted to finally meet you. You are such a charming young lady," his mom gushes. "Did you know you're the first girl he's ever introduced to us?"

“Really?” You ask, unsurprised. "You know, it's actually really funny that you say that because sometimes I find myself questioning if he's-" and as you're about to finish the sentence, a sharp pain shoots through your abdomen. To his parents, he was just being affectionate, innocently wrapping his arm around you to demonstrate his love for your personal space. None of them would've guessed what was honestly going on.

"What were you saying, honey?" Mrs. Song smiles, anticipating ‌ hearing the rest of your thoughts.

"Sometimes I wonder if he’s even real." You force a grin, your words laced with a hint of bitterness that you hope goes unnoticed.

“It was lovely having you.” Mrs. Song beams happily, standing by the doorway of their family home.

You reply, “It was nice being here.” While subtly removing Eunseok's arm from around your waist, or at least trying to. But his hold just got tighter with each attempt you made to push him off.

“I don’t want you to go.” The small boy pouts in front of you.

“Don’t worry, she’ll be back,” Eunseok responds to the boy for you.

“Promise?” The little boy looks up at you with glossy eyes and one of the sweetest smiles you’ve ever seen in your entire life. How could you say no to such a sweet face?

“I promise.” You reassure looking everywhere but the boy in front of you.

“I can’t wait to see you again.” His mother claps. “Drive safe.” She cheers as Eunseok guides you to his car. You wait until the front door is shut, and no one can hear you before you push him away from you and hold your hand up as if you’re about to slap him.

“I should kill you.” You growl.

"At least let me drive you home first.” He suggests holding his truck door open for you. You wanna slap him, choke him, kick him in his knees, and make him beg for mercy. But you roll your eyes instead and take your spot in his passenger seat.

“Your family is kinda cool, even though your dad scares the shit out of me.” You mutter, staring out the window at the passing cars on the road.

“You know you’re welcome anytime.”

“I think it’s best we keep this professional. I don’t want you to ease up on payments because you think we’re friends.”

“That’s fair.” Eunseok nods.

“You and I could never be friends. We’re too different.” You add, resting your head against the back of your seat.

“I’m starving.” Sohee whines, throwing his head against the back of your couch.

You laugh, “you always are.” Squishing his cheeks together.

“This isn’t funny Y/n. I could die if I don’t eat something in the next 2 seconds.”

“You’re not going to die. I ordered pizza 20 minutes ago; it should be here any minute.” As if on cue, there’s a knock at your door, and before you can say or do anything, Sohee is shooting up to retrieve it.

“Oh, it’s you…” Sohee squints at the tall ball player in front of him as soon as he opens the door.

“Who is it?” You ask, jumping up from your couch to stand next to Sohee. “Oh… Eunseok. What- umm. What are you doing here?”

“My mom saw how much you liked the food yesterday, so she asked me to bring you some leftovers.’ Euseok pushes the bag full of containers in your direction.

“Did she really? Are the green beans in here too?” You ask, snatching the bag from his hand.

“Yeah, I think she packed everything.” Eunseok scratches the back of his neck.

“I feel like I just abducted and woke up on Venus.” You squeal, rushing towards your table to dig through the bag.

“Huh?”

“She’s thankful,” Sohee explains for you.

“Well, tell your mom I said thank you. Bye, love you.” You rush, pushing him out of the way and slamming the door in his face.

When you turn back on your heels you’re surprised to see Sohee staring at you with an equally surprised expression on his face. “Are you guys saying that already?” Sohee asks

“Well, we’re moving kinda Fast because… You know… We just never know when we’re gonna … die.” You laugh awkwardly.

“You know you’re really unpredictable,” Sohee continues to stare.

“What do you mean?” You plop down at your table, half waiting for his explanation but mostly interested in the food in front of you.

“You guys have nothing in common. He’s well known and attractive, but you never cared about that kind of stuff.” Your best friend watches as you unpack the leftovers your “boyfriend” just bought you. ‘You say you love him, but can you name just one thing you like about him?”

If you were in a serious relationship you might’ve cared about what it was that Sohee had to say, but nothing about this was real. So you couldn’t care. You couldn’t care even if you tried.

“I like him because his mom knows how to cook.” You answer with your mouth full.

"What did you guys think about that movie I told you to watch?" Ningning asks, walking between you and Sohee. The hallways are full of students and teachers as the three of you walk through the somewhat heavy crowd.

"I didn't watch it." Sohee shrugs while eating the burrito he begged you to buy because he was "so hungry, he could pass out."

You answer, "It was horrible," ready to give a detailed description of why you hated it and everything that was wrong with it.

"Wasn't it," Ningning replies.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into watching it." You gasp.

"I had to make sure it wasn't just me." She says, but you don't fully process it because you feel the ghost of someone's hand about to grab yours. On instinct, you attack; what else were you supposed to do? Unfortunately, right after you turn around to punch the stranger in the face, you freeze. The stranger isn't a stranger but your (fake) boyfriend, standing there with a shocked expression and blood dripping from his lip.

"Oh my god." You shriek, "I didn't mean to -"

"It's okay; don't worry about it," Eunseok mutters, but the growing puddle of crimson red liquid tells you that it definitely isn't okay.

"You're bleeding!" You acknowledge reaching for his bottom lip.

"It's fine, I'll be fine. Let me just take you to class."

"Well, let me clean you up." You continue, staring at his busted bloody lip.

"It doesn't even hurt." He cheers, shaking his head.

"I won't be long; I have my first aid kit right here."

“You carry around a first aid kit?” He questions, his eyebrows raising in surprise, as you push him into a random empty classroom. “Do you just punch people often?”

“It was an accident.” You answer, your voice softening, as you rip a sanitary wipe open and tap it against his lip. “Why would you even be grabbing my hand in public anyway?” You ask, while continuing to repair his busted lip.

“You’re my girlfriend; I’m supposed to treat you as such.” He mumbles.

"Fake girlfriend." You respond, your voice tinged with a hint of bitterness, as you sit up with a tube of ointment on display. "Apply this again before you go to sleep tonight, and it should be healed in no time. And don't lick your lips. This stuff tastes disgusting."

"I don't imagine it would taste like strawberries." He remarks.

You back away from him with your hands on your hips. "Whatever, you still didn't answer. Why were you sneaking up on me?" He doesn't say anything for a short few moments, and you can tell that he's thinking about how to say what he's going to say.

"So my dad is good friends with my coach, and word got around." He mumbles the last part, but it’s intentional this time.

"Word got around?" Your eyes widen at the thought, "So I'm stuck with you?" You ask, raising your hand to push your hair out of your face, and rolling your eyes when you see Eunseok flinch at your sudden movements.

'You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It's certainly not a good thing." You shout again. Which only makes Eunseok lean away from you, arms shielding his face.

"Relax, I'm not gonna hit you." You breathe, "Although I should."

"Are you mad?" Eunseok says after a long silence.

You respond sarcastically, "No, of course not." You tilt your head to stare at the basketball player in front of you, wondering how you managed to get yourself into this situation. "In fact I couldn't be happier."

"Since when were you and Eunseok a thing?" Ningning asks, emphasizing Eunseok's name.

Ever since the interaction between you and him in the hallway, all you heard was his name.

"A month," Sohee answers on your behalf,

"You knew?" Ningning whips her head around to the boy. "How come I'm just finding out about this?"

"I tried to keep it as private as possible." You answer.

"What, so you told Mr. Blabber mouth over here?" Ningning’s accusatory finger points at Sohee, who's innocently munching on his sandwich. "You know, you guys really make me feel left out."

"That's what happens when you choose other people over us?" You shrug.

"It would still be nice to know about what's going on in my best friend's life." Ningning debates. "And what about you? Are you datin—never mind?" Ningning stops herself. Both of you know ‌that Sohee was never private about anything. The entire planet would know if he got a girlfriend. Considering he couldn't keep a secret even if his life was at stake.

"How did you even start dating? You two are so… different." The girl rests her chin in her open palm.

"That's what I said! What could you possibly like about him? He's just some dumb ball player." Sohee adds.

“Dumb ball player? You might have a crush on Y/n, but that does not give you the right to down-talk the Song Eunseok.” Ningning jumps up, swinging her finger around.

All you can do is facepalm. This is why you never tell them anything; it always causes an argument. Too immersed in your friends in front of you, you don’t notice when Eusneok appears next to you until he says, “Do you mind if I sit here.”

“Don’t you wanna sit with your other friends?” You look around the area for all the possible seats he could take besides right next to you. You were starting to think he didn’t understand what personal space was.

"You're here." He says, occupying the seat without your permission.

"The more I look at it, it kinda makes sense," Ningning interjects, tilting her head.

Sohee soon does the same, only to mumble, "I still don't get it."

"Okay, what are you guys thinking for tonight?" You try to change the subject. You feared that if you talked too much, you'd accidentally reveal how you felt about Eunseok and that this entire bit was fake.

"Why don't we just do Pizza?" Ningning suggests, but Sohee is quick to knock down the idea.

"We always do pizza. Why don't we do tacos."

"Mm yeah, tacos sounds good." You nod, "Let's do tacos."

"I don't want tacos." Ningning frowns, "How about sushi?"

"I'm good with sushi." Sohee agrees.

"Perfect, we're going with sushi." You clap, but your joy is short-lived as Eunseok's sudden grip on your wrist startles you, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.

'What are you guys planning?" He asks.

"Every Friday, the three of us do a game night. It's... it's kinda boring." You say, your voice trailing off, hoping he won't ask to come along. But he doesn't seem to catch the hint.

"Oh really? I'll bring the drinks then." He volunteers

"Oh no, you don't have to." You wave your palms around and shake your head.

"I don't wanna come empty-handed."

"You don't have to come at all; it's okay." You smile sarcastically. "I'm sure you have better things to do."

"What's better than hanging out with my girlfriend?" He asks, smiling sweetly at you while Ningning squeaks about how cute the two of you are.

"Since I'm such an awesome girlfriend, I'll let you hang out with your friends tonight." You say through gritted teeth. Squinting as you push his hands away from you.

"And since I'm an even better boyfriend, I'll hang out with you instead." He grins, overpowering you and pulling in closer to him by your waist.

Sohee grimaces at the sight, "You guys aren't gonna be doing that the whole night, right?" He asks.

Despite all of your attempts to change his mind, Eunseok still finds himself in your living room arguing with Sohee about who knows you better. And leave it up to Ningning to encourage their foolishness.

“Okay, this one’s easy; what’s her favorite color?” Ningning stands in front of the two boys with flashcards.

“Blue!” Sohee calls out first.

“Blue, purple, and green,” Eunseok calls out almost exactly at the same time as Sohee. They both look at you in sync for the answer as your smile grows.

“My favorite color is blue.” You confirm, “and purple and green.”

You watch Sohee, your melodramatic friend, drop to his knees, his hands gripping his hair in mock despair. “You’re so dramatic,” Ningning chuckles, her laughter filling the room before shuffling the cards to ask another question.

“Alright, what’s her go-to movie for movie nights.”

“Umm,” You laugh when Eunseok looks straight at you for the answer.

“E.T.,” Sohee calls out, jumping and pointing his index finger. He doesn’t have to look at you to find out if he’s right because he knows he is. That’s been your favorite movie since the both of you were kids; you kind of grew out of it since then, but you never missed an opportunity to watch E.T.

“And the winner is-.” Ningning pauses, eyeing the two boys down for suspicion. “It’s a tie.” She beams.

Sohee nods and holds his hand out for Eunseok to shake, “You’re cool, I guess.”

“Thank you.” Eunseok smiles.

“I still think you don’t deserve her, but you’re not as bad as I thought.” Your best friend explains, looking off to the side.

“It’s getting late, I’m heading out.” Ningning breaks through the handshake to walk towards your front door. “Let’s go, Sohee.” She calls out behind her.

“But I wanna finish hanging out with Y/n.” The boy cries but follows after her when she shoots him a deadly look.

As the door closes behind Sohee, it's just you and Eunseok, the silence amplifying the sense of isolation.

“I see your lip got better.” You acknowledge it when he sits down on the floor next to you.

Eunseok taps his bottom lip, “It still hurts, though.” He says.

You laugh and cup his cheeks with both hands, gently wriggling his face around. “You poor baby, do you want me to kiss it better?” You ask, but he stares at you blankly, his eyes filled with a mix of confusion and amusement.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You lean back from him, but his eyes never leave you.

“Thanks for inviting me.” He finally says, leaning back against his palms.

“You invited yourself.”

“Well, thank you for accepting me; I had fun,” Eunseok replies.” You said you do this every Friday?”

“Do not show up at my door every week, Eunseok; my neighbors are gonna think-” We’re dating.” He adds, finishing your sentence.

“Just don’t show up here every weekend, okay,”

“Why are you so mean to me?”

“I have to make sure you understand that we aren’t friends,” You assert. “And when this deal ends, I’ll probably never talk to you again. So don’t get too comfortable.”

The next afternoon, you're walking through ‌semi-crowded hallways. Sohee and Ningning, being who knows where you mentally plan what you're going to do once you get home. The plans include changing into sweatpants and watching Netflix until you fall asleep on your couch.

The thought almost brings a smile to your face; there's nothing you love more than the soft touch of your couch, the familiar scent of your home, and the comforting silence that surrounds you when you're doing nothing in the comfort of your own home.

Amid your blissful thoughts, you feel a hand wrap around your wrist, breaking your reverie. Instinctively, you roll your eyes before you check to confirm that it's Eunseok. "Come watch me practice." He grins when you turn to face him.

You ask, "Why would I do that?" Pulling your wrist away from him.

"So you can meet my friends." He says.

"Why would I do that?" You repeat.

"Because I met your friends."

You say, "I'll pass," but Eunseok quickly grabs your wrist again.

"Come on, it'll be fun." He doesn't wait for you to agree or disagree before he pulls you towards the gym.

You were quickly learning about Eunseok. He didn't understand physical boundaries, or any boundaries for that matter, and he loved to ignore everything that came out of your mouth. You could say this was your fault. You let him dangle money over your head, and now you're stuck with him for the next few months.

Eunseok shifts his hand from your wrist to intertwine his fingers with yours. And before you know it, you're surrounded by sweaty basketball players in the gym. You hear their shoes squeak against the gym floor, along with the bouncing of basketballs. This was the first time you'd ever entered the school gym, considering you never had a reason to. Sports aren't your thing, and before now, you never imagined that you'd end up with a sports player.

"Yeah, no, I don't want to do this." You mutter, your voice barely audible as you try to walk away. But with your hand still firmly held by Eunseok, a simple tug is all it takes to bring you back into the uncomfortable setting.

He pleads, "Just this one time.'

"What am I supposed to do here?" You frown, looking around the dimly lit gym, the sound of sneakers squeaking on the polished floor echoing in your ears.

"Relax and watch your boyfriend play basketball." He smirks down at you.

You whine, "You're not even my boyfriend." You use your other fist to punch his chest weakly, but as always, your words fall on deaf ears.

"You're late." A stranger calls out from a few feet away from you. His tone seems harsh, a clear sign of tension, but you ignore it by clinging onto Eunseok. As the unnamed man gets closer, his eyes find yours, and he begins glaring at you, his silent threat hanging in the air.

“Y/n this is Sungchan.” Eunseok gestures towards the boy in front of you, "And Sungchan, this is." You notice his breath hitch when he pauses. “Y/n.”

Sungchan looks at you again, but he doesn't do anything else to acknowledge you. "Don't show off because your girlfriend’s here." He says last before walking away. Allowing you the chance to finally breathe.

"I don't think this was a good idea."

“Don’t worry he’s not always like that.” Eunseok explains to help make you feel better but it does the direct opposite.

“Great so it’s just me.” You frown.

He turns you around so that your facing him, as he takes each of your hands into his own. “Don’t think too much about it okay.”

“I won’t.” You nod.

“I’ll go get changed, you can wait over there.” He points with your hand still connected to his. “When were done I’ll treat you to lunch.”

“If I have to sit here for an hour I’m leaving.”

An hour quickly turned into two, but you remained planted on the bleachers. You would never say it to him, or even aloud, but you actually enjoyed watching him play. It was entertaining to see how much he enjoyed basketball and how broad his smile was when he turned to you every time he scored.

You never thought you’d be this into sports, or maybe it was the boy playing the sport.

As practice comes to an end, Eunseok approaches you. “I want to introduce you to my friends.” He says. You look behind his shoulder to see Sungchan already looking at you and shake your head.

“No, I’ll pass.” You stand up in front ‌of him and grab your bag to leave.

“It’ll be quick.” He says,

“I have things to do, Eunseok.” You say, Attempting to walk away. Eunseok lets you take two steps before he reaches for your wrist to pull you into his arms and picks you up, barely enough for your feet to hang above the floor.

“Eunseok.” You slam your fist around his arms, “Put me down.” You continue, but he only laughs, finally landing you on your feet when you’re in front of his friends.

“Y/n this is Shotaro.” He points to the smiley boy standing beside Sungchan, “That’s Seunghan. That’s Anton, and you’ve met Sungchan already.”

“How long have you guys been dating?” Shotaro asks before finishing the rest of his water bottle.

Eunseok answers, “Four months.”

"Four months, and you haven't told us," Seunghan asks.

"I wasn't ready to meet anyone yet," You say, your voice dripping with sarcasm. Eunseok chuckles nervously, attempting to diffuse the tension. Your gaze meets Sungchan's, a silent exchange of unspoken words, before he finally breaks the silence.

"Well, if we're finally meeting you, that must mean you're serious, huh?" He says, looking at you.

"You never know what could happen. We might break up tomorrow." You look up at Eunseok, hoping he'll get the message.

Eunseok responds, "But we're not breaking up anytime soon." Wrapping his arm around you.

Though you're mildly upset with Eunseok, you're even more uncomfortable with the way his basketball mate is eyeing you down. And while you'd usually push your (fake) boyfriend away, you feel the need to hold him closer, mainly because he was the only person in the room who felt somewhat familiar to you.

"Anything could happen," you say while simultaneously resting your head against him, hoping to ease that anxious feeling you're getting.

Eunseok notices something's wrong when you begin to get unusually touchy—turning in his arms to rest your head against his chest. Their voices become nothing but distant sounds as you disassociate into your thoughts.

"Are you ready to go?" He whispers into your ear.

You mutter, "I've been ready to go since we got here." You feel the vibrations in his chest when he laughs.

"Let's go." He says, reaching for your hand.

"Wait, you don't —""Aren't you hungry?" He interrupts, and you nod, allowing him to guide you out of the gym.

"Didn't know you could be so clingy." Eunseok comments as he reaches to open your drink since you were struggling with opening it yourself.

He grins, "Here," when passing your drink back and watching you get flustered.

"I don't think we should keep meeting each other's friends." You blurt after thanking him. "It'll just make things more awkward after we break up. They'll want to comfort us and all that weird stuff."

The way Eunseok looks at you makes your heart skip a beat. Out of nervousness, you take a bite of your sandwich to distract yourself from his gaze. "You're thinking about breaking up already?" He asks.

"How long did you plan on doing this?" You respond, "You know we'll have to stop eventually."

Eunseok sits back in his seat, "I like introducing you as my girlfriend." he says

"I think you need a real relationship instead of paying me to pretend with you. It's embarrassing, actually."

"Maybe I like pretending with you," You look up to see that he isn't even looking at you. He has your heart skipping beats, and he couldn't even give you the decency to look at you.

"Enjoy it while it lasts, 'cause it won't be long." You assert to hide the way you're feeling.

"I'm thinking about buying a skateboard," Sohee reveals. The clinking of plates and forks around you fades into nothing when you look at your friend wide-eyed. You were used to spontaneous, crazy ideas from him, but they didn't usually include potential suicide.

"A skateboard?" You repeat

"Do you even know how to skate?" Ningning asked, playfully teasing as she took a bite of her salad.

Sohee looks away. "No, but I have free will and think it could help land me a girlfriend."

"I think it just would make you look like an idiot with a skateboard." You shrug, "But to each their own." As you wrap your sentence up, you check your phone for the notification that just came in.

My everything: I miss you

My everything: Let's hang out.

"You know what? I think a skateboard might actually suit you, suit you," you say, trying to dismiss the message you just received.

You observe Sohee's face lighting up. "I knew you'd agree with me," he beams. Then, he turns to Ningning and asks, "Why can't you be more supportive?"

"I can't wait to watch you fall on your face." You add, and Sohee's smile gradually fades. Your phone vibrates a few more times, drawing skeptical glares from both Sohee and Ningning.

"Aren't you gonna answer that?" Ninging speaks up first, her voice tinged with concern. You feel a familiar pang of anxiety as you glance down at your phone, quickly dismissing the call with a hesitant shake of your head. "No, um, it's just spam or something, no one really important," you mumble, hoping to convince both yourself and your friends. Sohee leans in, his brow furrowed in thought. "Have you tried blocking them?" he asks, his tone suggesting a practical solution to what seems like a trivial problem.

"It's no point. They're just going to keep coming back. I'll tell him we aren't friends, and he'll keep bothering me because he doesn't understand anything I say." You vent, the tension in the room thickening as you mindlessly stab the chicken on your tray.

Sohee readjusts himself in his seat, feeling visibly uncomfortable now since the vibe in the room has changed. "I think blocking him might help with that."

You reach for your phone and press the power button, watching as the screen goes dark. "That should take care of it," you mutter, placing the phone face up on the table. With your attention no longer occupied by the phone, Sohee visibly relaxes, and Ninging seizes the opportunity to steer the conversation in a new direction.

"So, how's everything going with Eunseok?" she asks, a cautious grin spreading across her face.

“Why are you always bringing him up?” You whine.

“I just wanna know the details. How come you never share the details?” She persists.

You shake your head, “There’s no details to share.”

“I find it hard to believe that you two are actually dating,” she argues, her top lip turning up. You have nothing to say to that; you’ve been trying your best to sell your act, but you're no actor, and you were never really good at pretending to like people that you didn't.

“We're dating. It’s real.” You nod, using your drink to avoid eye contact.

“Well, why does it seem like you don’t like him?” Ningning rests her elbows on the table, which makes you nervous for some reason.

"Like him? Please, I like him so much you could even say I love him," you reply with a forced laugh. "Can we change the subject?"

“There’s a basketball game tomorrow; I know we don’t usually go to the games, but I think it could be fu-” Ninging trails off when you throw your head back and groan.

“I’m not doing this.”

“Why don’t you wanna go support your boyfriend.” Ningning doesn’t back down. You always told her she could be a lawyer since she had the knack of always getting the truth out of someone. You just hated that she always used her talents on you.

"Sohee, what kind of skateboard are you thinking about getting?" You ask, ignoring the way NIngning looks at you.

"You know you make it hard for me to believe that two of you are actually dating." She challenges, her tone laced with skepticism.

"I don't know what to tell you. Go ask him yourself, I guess." You shrug

"Name five things you like about Sohee." Ningning spurs randomly.

"Easy, Umm, he's a good listener; he's fun to be around. He knows the best food places and has a good sense of humor. I like his smile and his fluffy hair."

"Okay, that's six things."

"I can make it seven. He's fun-sized," you add with a chuckle, the humor in your voice lightening the mood.

"Okay, great, that's seven. Now, name one thing you like about your boyfriend."

"He's… Well, he's good at basketball."

"You know, Ningning is right. I'm more convinced you have a crush on me than you do your boyfriend," Sohee interjects.

"Whatever, think whatever you want. I don't care." You throw your hands up in defense.

"Yeah, you're not very convincing." Ningning laughs, and Sohee joins her.

The gymnasium is filled to the brim. You just hope that it's full enough for you to go unnoticed by your boyfriend or any of his teammates. You lost Sohee and Ningning to the concession stand and the group of girls who stopped to ask Sohee if he knew how to skate.

"I'm going to go find seats," you call out, but with all the commotion happening around you, neither of them hears you.

So you roamed the busy gym by yourself, hiding at the sight of any jersey you saw, especially any jersey with the number thirty nine. Unfortunately for you, there were hundreds of jerseys, with thirty nine going around.

"Hey." A somewhat familiar voice appeared behind you, causing you to stop right in your tracks. You think you'd rather have run into Eunseok, but Sungchan finds you instead.

You slowly turn to see the tall boy hovering over you, already dressed in his basketball attire. "Hey." You say, sucking in a breath. His gaze is much different than the one he had a week ago; it's softer now, and you think you even see a smile. Still, you hold your breath, scared he might yell at you at any second now that Eunseok isn't around.

"Umm," he shakes his head, "He's down there." Sungchan points to the very boy you've been avoiding. Thankfully, he's turned away from you, seemingly preoccupied with another conversation.

"Oh, thanks." You nod.

"I can walk you down if you want." He insists, and you shake your head.

"No- I think I'm gonna go to the restroom." You point. "I might've drank a little too much."

"Yeah," he stands, lingering around like he wants to say something else, and you continue holding your breath. "Do you know where the restrooms are? or do you want me to walk you?"

"I think I can handle finding them on my own."

"Yeah, yeah, of course."

"Yeah," you laugh. Shortly after, he laughs along with you. "Good luck with the game, Sungchan."

"Thanks." He says just before you run off to hide in the restroom. The idea seems great at first, but you begin to have your doubts when you see rolls of toilet paper stringed along the floor, and each stall has evidence of someone else's previous activities.

You're sure you can find somewhere else to hide out until the game starts, no big deal.

However, when you see Eunseok leaning against the wall outside, waiting for you, you aren't so certain.

"Damnit, Sungchan," you think to yourself as you look the other way and attempt to pass your boyfriend.

You thought you had almost slipped away when you felt his hand wrap around your wrist. "You really are here," He grinned as you turned to face him.

"Not because I want to be." You huff, "My friends forced me to come."

"But if you tell them that you're better without me here, I bet they'll leave me alone," you think aloud. Eunseok smiles to match yours; based on that alone, you get a peak of hope.

"Yeah, of course." He nods.

"Okay, umm, just go wait over there. I'll find them, and then you can just say something like, 'Why are you here? I told you not to come. You're going to make me nervous and go home seriously.' And they'll buy it." You grin.

"Right…"

"Oh, you're the best, thank you. I'll be right back!" you yell, drifting farther away to find your friends.

"Guys," you panted, holding onto your knees as you caught your breath. “The game is about to start. We need to-" You snatched the water bottle from Sohees's grip and finished the rest of it, which just happened to be the entire thing.

"We should go sit down, don't wanna miss the game." You pop up.

"But-"Ningning frowns, gesturing to the one person in line in front of her. "I've been waiting here for thirty minutes. I want my hotdog."

“No time. Let’s go.” You rush, pulling her along with you to the spot you and Eunseok agreed to meet up at.

Just as promised, Eunseok looks surprised to see you. “Hey, what are you doing here?” He asks, pulling you into a bear hug.

“I came to watch you play obviously.” You mumbled into his chest.

“I thought you told me you wouldn’t come.” He says loud enough for your two friends to hear. “I guess you wanted to surprise me.”

Your eyes go wide and you attempt to push him off of you but that only makes him cling onto you tighter. “Eunseok.”

He coos, "I'm so glad I have a girlfriend that supports me." Easing up on his hold. "I know I'm gonna do much better now that you're here." He grins despite the way you're glaring at him.

"You two are so cute. We're going to give you some space." Ningning calls from behind you while Sohee continues to glower at the entire thing.

"What the hell was that?" You ask as soon as they leave.

"I'm kind of busy right now, but we can talk afterward, right?" He smirks and leans down to kiss your cheek. "Wish me luck."

"Break a leg." You shout as he backs away from you. "Or both of them."

The game starts while you're still stomping your way through the gym, your lips turn down into a mean frown, and your arms crossed over your chest. Ningning spots you first and waves her hand around for you to sit between her and Sohee.

"You look mad." Sohee acknowledges.

"Mad? Why would I be mad?" You laugh sarcastically. "I'm not mad."

"He looked at me." The girl behind you squeaks. "Eunseok looked at me."

"Because of that." Your best friend mutters.

"Y/n isn't a jealous person. it's going to take a lot more than some freshman to tick her off." Ningning speaks up, but she's proved wrong when you turn around and glare at the younger girl.

"Where'd you get that?" You ask, referring to her jersey.

"I made it." She beams, "Eunseok is my favorite player."

"Give it to me."

"No, it's mine." She pouts, possessively holding her garment.

You breathe and reach into your back pocket for your wallet. She looks at you confused when you pull out a hundred-dollar bill. "What's your name?" You ask.

"Lea." She says barely.

"Alright, Lea. I'm going to give you this." You wave around the money, "and you're going to give me that jersey. Okay?"

She nods hesitantly.

"Good girl." You coo, passing her the money and waiting patiently as she pulls the shirt over her head and passes it to you.

It takes less than a second to slide it over your clothes and marvel at how good it looks. "Perfect fit?" You smile, and she smiles back, holding a thumbs up.

"That went a lot better than I thought it would," Ningning comments, her voice filled with relief and amusement, while Sohee picks at the material of your newly acquired jersey.

"Wow, did you actually make this?" He turns to ask, and Lea nods. "This is so good." He continues playing with your shirt until you push his hand away.

"Do you skate?" She asks. Sohee looks down at the useless skateboard and then up at you, who's giving him a knowing look, anticipating his lie.

"Umm, no, I just thought it would be cool to walk around with." He utters, "But I'm learning."

"That is so cool." She giggles.

"You think so?"

You look at Ningning, eyes furrowed, and Ningning looks back at you with the same expression. Neither of you thought that his plan would actually work.

"Do you wanna come sit by me?" Lea taps the empty spot next to her. He looks to both of his friends for permission, and you nod.

The game goes on pretty well for the next 30 minutes, or so you assume. You weren't really sure; you just cheered when everyone else cheered and booed when everyone else booed. "Woo." You jump out of your seat, fist in the air. "That's my boyfriend."

"You're cheering for the wrong team." Ningning informs you.

"Oh." You pause. "Boo, you suck." Your best friend laughs as you lower back in your seat and continue to watch Eunseok play quietly for the rest of the game. Occasionally locking eyes with Sungchan.

Once everything is over, Eunseok finds you first. "Hey," he announces, interrupting your conversation with Ningning.

"Hey," You gasp, feeling his warm breath on your neck. He wraps his arms around your waist and draws your back to his chest.

"Do you mind if I walk her home?" Eunseok asks Ningning, his chin resting on your shoulder.

"You can't; we have to look for Sohee." You explain but Ningning shakes her head.

"I don't mind; she was talking about you too much anyway. It was starting to get annoying." Your best friend beams when you scowl at her. "I'll see you tomorrow. Have fun. Bye."

And when she skips away, Eunseok only pulls you closer to tug on the hem of your shirt. "What's this?" He questions.

"Someone gave it to me. I figured it'd be rude if I didn't wear it." You lie. "I'm not wearing it for you."

You're scared you'll spill everything if he looks at you any longer. Luckily for you, he just nods and changes the subject. "Sungchan told me you wished him good luck." He says, taking your hand in his.

"I did."

"You told me to break a leg." He responds, sticking his bottom lip out unintentionally.

"Isn't that a phrase of encouragement? You know, like when people say 'break a leg' before an audition because they want them to get the part." You start rambling even though you know exactly what you meant.

"They don't tell them to break both legs." He says.

You bite back a laugh. "Well, I just wanted you to do really good."

The sky is pitch dark, not even the stars shine on the warm night. The only light comes from the dimly lit street lamps, casting long shadows on the deserted streets. But you're not gazing at the heavens. You're too busy navigating the path, trying to avoid colliding with Eunseok every few steps.

"Oh, how come you haven't responded to my texts? Is your phone broken?" he asks, breaking the silence you were slowly getting used to.

"No, my phone is fine; I just didn't wanna talk to you."

He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Ouch," He teases, a smirk playing on his lips.

"I have an idea." You stop and jump in front of him. "Why don't I help you find a real girlfriend? Then we can stop this."

He looks up and pretends to think, giving you a few seconds of silence before he smiles down at you. "Nope."

"What?"

"I don't want to." He shakes his head.

"Have you ever thought about how this is affecting my life?" You whine when he grabs your hand and pulls you back next to him.

"I have, actually. You get a weekly stipend, free game tickets, and an amazing boyfriend. Could things get any better for you?"

"I have two friends who keep poking their noses into my romantic life and a weirdo who doesn't listen to anything I say." You mutter.

"I guess there's that too." He grins. "You still have an amazing boyfriend, though, so I think that evens it out."

"You're not my boyfriend." As suspected, your words go into one ear and straight through the other. He keeps his same stupid grin on his face and your hand wrapped in his until he walks you to your apartment.

“I wonder what my girlfriend is doing.” Sohee pouts, tucking his chin into the palm of his hand.

“Probably thinking of all the ways to break up with you.” Ningning laughs, and you start to laugh with her, but it quickly turns into a coughing fit.

“Sorry, guys.” You sniff.

“Don’t worry, girl. It’s fine.” Ningning reassured but continued to back away.

Sohee passes you a napkin. “Are you getting sick?”

“I hope not; I don’t wanna cancel our game night.”

“We might have to,” Ningning speaks. “Don’t worry, we always have next week.”

“But we’ve never missed a week.” You cry, “We’re going so strong I don’t wanna ruin it.”

Ningning shakes her head. “My health is-“ She stops when she notices how you and Sohee look at her. “Your health is far more important than game nights.” She corrects herself. “So just get some rest. We’ll try again next week.”

You sniff, “Okay.”

And just as planned, you took Friday off, as your cold just got worse. Your head was banging, your throat was dry, and your nose was so stuffed you could only breathe through your mouth.

You rotted in your bed, your body temperature far too warm for you to relax, but the room far too cold for you to leave your covers, which was very ironic to you because you set the temperature to seventy-five degrees before you got into bed the night before.

Just as you were about to drift into a peaceful slumber, a sudden knock at the door shattered the tranquility. Frustrated, you reluctantly left the warmth of your bed and trudged through your apartment, emitting groans reminiscent of a zombie.

"Game nights canceled." You sneeze into your elbow.

"I heard." Eunseok sneaks his way past you and into your apartment.

"Why are you here then?" You question.

"To check on you." He responds, "You weren't answering my phone calls."

"I'm sick; I don't really feel like talking right now." You sneeze again. "We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" You rush, pushing him towards and out of the door. He tries to get a few words in, but he's not able to say anything before you yell, "Bye." And slam the door in his face.

Exhausted, you made your way back to the couch, too weary to even consider returning to your bed.

Around twenty minutes later, there's another knock at the door, and you want to cry out of anger. The more you get up, the more your head hurts. Once again, you're met with Song Eunseok. "Do you listen to anything I say?" You ask, but he only smiles fondly at you.

"I brought medicine." Eunseok covers his face with the hefty medical supply he bought for you.

“I didn’t ask for it.”

He presses a kiss on your warm cheek. “You’re welcome.” He says before squeezing in past you and closing the door. You fold your arms and watch him find his way to your kitchen. He sits the bag on the table, slides his hoodie off, and folds it over your chair.

“I have a headache, Eunseok; I don’t have time for your games today.”

“Perfect, I bought Tylenol.” He shakes the bottle of supplements.

“Your coach is gonna hate me if I get you sick too.” You plead.

Eunseok finally pauses his movements to say, “I’ll be fine,” nonchalantly as if you weren’t losing your mind at the thought of him missing any of his practices of games because of you—all of the girls who’d line up at your door because their favorite player isn’t playing. You were just sorta getting on good terms with Sungchan; imagine how he’d react if you got his teammate sick.

“I can hear the death threats now.” You whine, “I’ll take all the medicine, Eunseok. Just go home, please.”

Despite your cries and pleas, he only sighs. “I have to make sure you eat. You can’t take medicine on an empty stomach,” Eunseok informs ever so calmly.

Tilting your head back, you throw your arms down. Your lips naturally fall into a frown. “Why are you making this so hard?”

“Why are you being so dramatic?” He leaves the kitchen to stand in front of you. Each of his hands lands on your shoulders. The warmth of his touch seeps through your clothes, calming your nerves. “It’s just a small cold. You’re not going to die, and neither am I.” He adds, guiding you to sit on your trim, cozy sofa. “Just relax.”

Something about the way he says it actually makes you want to relax. You inhale and let your shoulders fully rest. “See, that feels nice, doesn’t it?” He coos, his voice soothing and comforting.

“But if you get sick-“ ”I’ll be fine because you’ll be here to take care of me.” He finishes.

He’s not going anywhere; you’ve come to that conclusion when he begins pulling out pots and pans and chopping vegetables in your kitchen. However, you can’t say that it bothers you. With each passing day, your feelings towards him were shifting. You were learning more about him as a person. He was someone that his little brother looked up to, someone that his friends admired and respected. And slowly, he was becoming someone you adored, someone you were starting to have deep feelings for.

You were becoming more comfortable with his presence, so much so you could even say you craved it at times.

“Drink this.” He mutters, holding a bottle of electrolytes to your lips. This time, you don’t fight him; you don’t have the energy. He taps a napkin under your chin to clean and sits the empty bottle on the coffee table.

“I don’t want to eat; I want to sleep.” You mumble, eyes half closed, when he picks up the homemade soup.

“Just eat a little, then you can sleep.”

You open your mouth to say something else but Eunsoek uses that as an opportunity to start spoon feeding you. The soup is warm, and delicious it almost distracts you from the fact that he was feeding you.

Almost.

“I can feed myself.” You grumble. Voice hoarse as you attempt to get the spoon from his hand. He’s quicker to pull it away from you.

“Would you just let me be a good boyfriend?” Eunseok asks, dipping the spoon and bringing it back up to the tip of your lips.

“You’re not-“ You huff and roll your eyes, accepting defeat. “Fine.” You breathe reluctantly allowing him to continue spoon feeding you. The pattern continues until the bowl is empty, your stomach is full and your eyelids are heavy.

“See that wasn’t so bad was it?” He asks but the only response he gets is a hum from while you shift on the couch and rest your head in his lap.

“Can I go to sleep now?” You respond sluggishly against his thigh.

Eunseok croons, “I won’t stop you.” As he slides the polyester blanket up to your shoulder. Pushing your hair out of your face when you curl up against him.

As soon as he gives you permission, you let yourself drift off to sleep. Maybe it was the warmth of the soup, the soothing effects of the medicine, or perhaps it was the gentle way he strokes your head. You find yourself much more at ease with his presence compared to two hours ago when you were tossing and turning in bed, struggling to find a comfortable sleeping position.

As you awaken, you find yourself nestled in your bed, cocooned within the worn, soft pink comforter. The morning sunlight streams through the curtains, gently warming your face as you slowly open your eyes. A deep yawn breaks the silence as you slowly stretch your arms and arch your back. You notice that your breathing feels clearer, and the scratchiness in your throat has significantly decreased since yesterday.

Knowing you have only one person to thank for that, you skip to your living room. Smiling internally when you see Eunseok asleep on your couch, his legs hanging off the sofa because of how tall he was. You kneel in front of him and lay your hand on his chest just barely, but it's enough to wake him up.

As his eyes slowly flutter open, you hear Eunseok's gentle voice inquire, "How do you feel?" His warm hand reaches out to brush your forehead, checking for any signs of a fever.

A soft smile spreads across your face as he then caresses your cheek. "I feel better," you murmur, savoring the tender touch.

"Are you hungry?" You ask eagerly, infused with warmth toward him. "I'm really not a good cook but I could order something."

Fake dating was starting to get easier. Once you realized you were getting paid to hold some basketball player's hand and call yourself his girlfriend, everything else just fell into place.

Mostly everything.

You weren't as comfortable around Eunseok's friends as He was around yours. Avoiding them seemed to be the best option, but Sungchan was making that so much harder for you.

"Catch," Shotaro calls right before a basketball comes flying straight toward your head. You should've moved or even attempted to dodge it, but you go into shock, your feet planted firmly on the ground, and your eyes squeezed shut as the ball gets closer. You wait for the ball to come into contact with your face, but it never does.

"Careful." Sungchan sounds, throwing the ball back to his teammate. Slowly, your eyes flutter open, turning to see Sungchan standing behind you. On instinct, you shuffle away from him but nearly trip over your own two feet, and he quickly reaches to grab you by your arm and steady you.

"Sorry, I- umm- I didn't mean to interrupt you guys I was just looking for-" You weren't usually nervous like this, and it wasn't a lot of people who could get this reaction out of you but much like Euneseok's father, Sungchan scared the life out of you.

"He isn't here." He states.

"Okay, thanks." You scramble towards the exit without saying another word, your heart racing and your palms sweaty.

Your second encounter with him was when you were walking down the busy hallway. Preoccupied by your phone, you weren't paying attention to where you were going. It was a habit of yours that Sohee was trying to help you break since you were in high school. But like you always say, old habits die hard.

Sohee: Quick, Lea is demanding I take her on a date. What do girls like?

Ningning: Teach her how to skateboard. I'm sure she'd love that. 🤭

Sohee: this is serious

You: I already told you all girls aren't the same. Ask her what she wants.

Sohee: I tried that, she told me to figure it out.

Ningning: 😭😭

You: dude. buy her flowers or something, she’d probably enjoy a cute picnic.

Sohee: She's allergic to bees. What if I take her on a picnic and she gets stung and dies like in that one movie.

You're still typing when you run face-first into the soft flesh of someone's palm. You blink once, twice before following the trail of their arm back to Sungchan's face. "Watch where you're going." He glares down at you, his stern gaze making you feel small and vulnerable.

You can tell he's trying to be endearing, but it sounds harsh and doesn't help your racing heart or the hundred thoughts swirling in your mind. Most of them conclude with you breaking into tears right there on the spot.

"I'm sorry." you spur and run the opposite way, knowing that it's going to take longer to get to your next class.

Another time, you're wandering around the student library searching for a specific book. It was closing soon, and you knew you had to hurry, but the book was nowhere to be found. You had already asked the librarian three times, so you weren't really eager to ask her again for the fourth time, but you did anyway. Tiptoeing back to the main desk as if it would decrease your embarrassment in any way.

"Hey, umm, are you sure the book is in section C? I checked a few times and couldn't find it," you ask.

"You can't find it?" The older woman repeats, and you nod.

"No."

"That's too bad." She snickers almost like a witch, which would've intrigued you any other time, but right now, you were desperate.

"Okay." You pull your lips into a tight-lipped smile and turn away from the desk. Treading back towards the section she advised you earlier and running your fingers through each book. You make it to the bottom of the shelf before you throw your head back and huff in sheer frustration. That's when your eyes land on the very book you've spent fifty minutes looking for, all the way at the top of the shelf.

Quickly, you push yourself up on your feet and stick your arm over your head, except the book is out of your reach. You stand on your tippy toes and try again; this time, just as you're about to grab it, another hand comes into view and pulls it right over you.

"Hey." You call, spinning around to confront the book thief. But your arms nearly get weak when you catch sight of Sungchan, holding your book.

It happens again: Your stomach is twirling, your heartbeat is unsteady, and your palms are so sweaty that if you wiped them against your shirt, you would probably leave handprints.

"I kinda need that." Your voice, tinged with vulnerability, comes out a lot smaller than you had planned for it to.

"This?" He asks, showing off the book.

You nod, your eyes trained to the object in his large hands.

A faint smirk played at the corner of Sungchan's lips. "Why should I give it to you?" he teases.

"Because I'm your friend's girlfriend." You blink bashfully, hoping that would be enough for him.

Suddenly, his lips straighten out into a thin line, and you think you might've even seen him straighten up. "Right," he mutters, handing the book over.

Just like that? You think to yourself, your relief palpable as you hesitantly accept the book, half-expecting him to pull it back right when you get the tips of your fingertips on it.

"Thanks- uh, Thank you." You stutter.

He utters, "Yeah." And walks away, leaving you even more confused than before.

You figured things were probably never going to get easier with his friends, but that wasn't a permanent problem since you and Eunseok weren't going to be "dating" for much longer anyway.

It's pitch dark when your eyes flutter open. From the lack of light, you knew it still had to be midnight. You throw your hand around and blindly search for your vibrating phone, not without wondering who could be calling you so late at night.

“Hello?” You utter breathlessly into your phone speaker, eyelids half open and not knowing who’s voice you’re going to hear on the other line.

“I didn’t think you’d answer.” Eunseok sounds directly in your ear. The base of his voice causes your eyes to fully open. You can hear that he’s been up for a while, or maybe he hasn’t gotten any sleep at all.

“What do you want?” You groan, “I’m not leaving my bed.”

“I just wanna talk to you, I can’t sleep.” His confession has you rolling over to face the ceiling. Suddenly you’re no longer tired and you wonder why that is.

“You have friends to talk to.”

“We’re not as close as you think.” You can hear him shuffle in his bed, presumably to get more comfortable.

“Neither are we.” You debate but he knows that isn’t entirely true. If you really disliked him as much as you say you do you would’ve hung up on him the second you heard his voice. Yet you chose to sacrifice your sleep to keep him entertained and that told him everything he needed to know.

“Fair, but I don’t like them as much as I like you.” Eunseok responds after a long period of silence.

“You’re always saying weird stuff.” You try but fail to contain your smile.

“I’m just being honest.” He says.

Choosing to ignore his indirect confession, you turn on your side and you can hear that he turns in his bed too. There’s another moment of isolated silence but it isn’t awkward. Hearing his slow breaths on the other line is quite calming.

You whisper, “Eunseok.”

“Yeah.”

“Can I ask you a question?” You ask

“Shoot.”

“How come you can’t find a real girlfriend?”

For the next ten seconds he doesn’t say anything and you check the phone a few times to make sure he hasn’t hung up. “I haven’t found anyone that caught my eye.” Eunseok finally answers, but that’s far from the answer you were expecting.

“No one?” You ask. “I don’t believe that.”

He laughs breathlessly against your ear, “Well how come you aren’t dating anyone?” He flips the question around.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed. But you’re the only weirdo willing to date me.” You giggle and expect him to do the same but it’s quiet on his end, except for the ruffling of sheets when he sits up on his elbows.

“You and I both know that’s not true.” He nearly scolds. “Sungchans been interested in you for a long time.”

“Really?” You jump up. Somehow it makes sense when you think about it. The distant stares, the nonchalant attitude. You just wondered if Sungchan knew how scary he was when he was trying to flirt.

"Yeah," Eunseok sighs, "He was pretty pissed when he found out about us, but aside from him, I'm sure there were other guys who've asked you out."

You play with the closest thing to you, which happened to be the fluffy pink bunny Ningning brought you for your birthday a few years back. Humming as you think about the handful of boys that have asked you out on dates, you twirl the bunny's long ears absentmindedly, "No one that I was interested in."

"So you're interested in me?" You can practically hear his smile when he speaks.

"You're paying me. Plus, I wanted to see what was so great about the Song Eunseok." You tease.

"And what have you learned?" He asks

"You're annoying, but you're not as bad as I thought you'd be." It goes silent again. Only the sounds of your wobbly ceiling fan and the noises from his background fill the room. After so much silence, you begin to bite your cheek in anticipation. Had he fallen asleep? You think to yourself.

"I'm glad you agreed to do this with me." He finally speaks, and you jerk your head towards the phone. "I like having you as my fake girlfriend."

"You're always saying weird stuff."

"You'll get used to it," Eunseok responds. The tone of his voice tells you he's most likely fighting to keep his eyes open, that is if he hasn't already given up trying and just let himself sink fully into the comfort of his bed.

"You should get some sleep; we have class in the morning." You say just above a whisper, half afraid to disturb his sleep.

He mumbles, "Don't hang up." Which causes your lips to turn up against your pillow.

"Don't tell me you're afraid of the dark." You say sarcastically.

"I'm just not ready to end the call," He murmurs, his voice rough and drawn out. You wish you could succumb to sleep as easily as he does, but you're left with your face buried in the soft cotton pillow, eyes wide open, mind racing.

If this was fake, why did it feel so real?

You utter, "We still aren't friends, Eunseok." But the only thing you get in response is a soft snore.

Muffled coughs, dim lights, anxious tapping. There’s no place in the world you hate more than the library, yet here you were, head buried in your notebook, bouncing your leg up and down.

“Mind if I sit here.” Eunseok appears out of nowhere, sliding into the seat right next to you before you can grant him permission.

“What are you doing, Eunseok?” You sigh, pushing your hair back.

“You looked like you could use some company.” He whispers back, a smile spread upon his lips. “Don’t worry, I’ll stay quiet.”

You suck in a deep breath and go back to focusing on your notes. Eunseok follows your lead, keeping as quiet as he promised he would. He stays so quiet you almost forget he’s there.

His presence becomes known again when you feel stares coming your way. You can practically feel the heat of the gazes burning into the side of your face, occasionally looking up to lock eyes with a stranger or two.

You ignored it at first. It's just a few sets of eyes on you, no big deal. Soon, it becomes too many eyes for you to bear. Mainly because you know why they're looking. You sit up in your seat and glare at the cause of your distraction.

"This isn't gonna work." You breathe.

Cluelessly, he lifts his head from his laptop. "I didn't do anything." He frowns.

"You didn't have to." You gesture your head towards the wandering eyes and hushed whispers. "They're not looking at me."

"I can't help that."

"I know you can't, but I really need to finish this essay, and I'd rather do it without people staring," you explain. Judging by the look on his face and the way he nods, you think he understands.

"I guess I'll just see you tonight then."

"I told you not to show up at my apartment." You scold as he packs his stuff up. He doesn't say anything, and you know he's ignoring you on purpose. "Hey." You call out and catch when a smirk plays on the corner of his lips.

“I’m serious, Eunseok, don’t stop by.” You half whisper, but it counts for nothing when he leans in to press a kiss to your cheek.

He’s gone before you could yell at him any further. You slouch in your seat and sigh as you check the notifications on your buzzing voice phone.

Sohee: Can’t make it tonight. Lea wants me to help her dog sit

Ningning: You know, I’m starting to not like this new girlfriend of yours.

You: No worries, ningning and I will have enough fun for you.

Ningning: We won’t?? I’m not third wheeling you and Eunseok.

You: Noo please, this is the one thing I look forward to every week. He won’t be there I promise. Don’t do this to me please.

Ningning: Lie to me again.

You: Fine, Eunseok and I will have enough fun for the both of you.

You breathe in frustration right before you bury your head into your arms, biting your lip to stop from crying. Tears swelling up against your waterline as you sniffle. Two weeks without your weekly hangouts you were just inches away from losing it.

You sit contently in your apartment, alone. Lights from the television flash on the wall behind you. “I taught him how to talk now. He can talk now.” You quote along with the movie, followed by a laugh.

You pause the movie and throw your legs over the couch when you hear a knock at the door. Assuming it’s the pizza you ordered, you open the door, but the man behind the door isn’t wearing a pizza delivery uniform, and he certainly doesn’t have your medium two-topping pizza in the palm of his hand.

“Eunseok.” You frown with disappointment.

“Don’t be too excited to see me.” He sneaks in past you, taking notice of your empty apartment and the miscellaneous pieces of popcorn thrown around the front of your couch.

“Everyone canceled.” You mutter.

"Perfect, so it's just us."

"What are you doing here, Eunseok?" You turn to face him, arms crossed. "I'm sure there are better things for you to do right now."

"Maybe, but I'm already here, so I might as well stay." He pats your head.

Just then, there's a knock at the door, and this time, you're certain it's the pizza you ordered half an hour ago. "I'll get it," Eunseok says before you get the chance to, and you save your breath because you know he's going to do what he wants no matter what you say. You watch as he strides to the door, his long legs eating up the distance.

"I have a medium pepperoni and mushroom pizza for-" The delivery guy stops when he looks up to see who he's speaking to. "Song Eunseok?" He babbles, "No way, I'm a huge fan."

"Are you?" Eunseok laughs, and you roll your eyes when you know he can't see you. "How much do I owe you?"

"Don't worry about it, man." The delivery pushes the pizza box into the palm of Eunseok's hand. "Enjoy it." He runs off, not giving Eunseok the opportunity to say anything else.

The tall basketball player turns to you with an annoying grin budded on his lips. "We got free pizza." He holds up the box.

"I saw." You murmur nonchalantly, grabbing the box from his hands and striding towards your couch. You can practically feel Eunseok's breath on the back of your neck from how close he treads behind you.

"Pepperoni and mushroom?" He questions, plopping down on the sofa right next to you.

"I didn't expect any guests." You utter, with your mouth full.

As the night continues, you end up with your head in Eunseok's lap, gazing up at him while he mindlessly dances his fingers around your skin.

"How long have you been playing basketball?" You murmur, intertwining your hand with his.

"Since middle school," he answers, "My dad wanted me to get out of the house more often, so he put me in basketball camp. From there, I just fell in love with it."

"Did you ever think you'd love it for so long?" You ask another question just to hear him talk.

"No, but I never imagined I'd fall out of love with it."

"Do you ever get tired of playing? Or just lose motivation sometimes?"

Eunseok nods, "I do sometimes, but then I feel guilty." He glances down at you, "It's become a part of me, and rejecting basketball feels like I'm rejecting myself."

"Wow?" You gasp in awe. "This is serious for you."

"Yeah." He breathes, "very." You sit up halfway as he readjusts himself in the chair, and he gently pulls you back down once he feels comfortable again, clamping his hand around yours. "So what about you?" He utters.

"What about me?"

"Tell me about yourself."

"There's nothing to tell." You murmur bashfully, "I'm just a nerd who loves the idea of outer space."

"Why?" Eunseok asks, watching you fondly as you think about how you're going to answer.

"I like the idea of how big and vast it is, how much life it holds." You sigh, "It reminds me of how small I am. That's a comforting thought for me because I know that nothing really matters." You look back up towards him and catch the way he's looking down at you. Suddenly, you become hyper-aware of the position you're in. Ripping away from his lap, you rush to the opposite side of the couch and clear your throat.

"But that's why I love Astronomy." You laugh nervously. "Are you thirsty by chance?" You ask, jumping up and running towards your kitchen.

"Not really." Eunseok stands up on his feet to follow you. He leans against the wall while you slide back on your counter, sipping your soda and staring into thin air so you don't have to look at him. He's the first to break the thick layer of awkward silence you've single-handedly created in the room. "My brother's birthday is coming up in two weeks. He really wants you there." He treads closer to you.

"Does he really?"

"My family likes you." He murmurs, "Everyone likes you."

"Because they think I'm your girlfriend." You retort, and he slides closer.

"Because you're you." The compliment causes your breath to hitch, "There's no one like you." He adds, in a hushed tone.

Looking down at the floor to avoid looking in his direction, You respond, "You're being weird again.".

Eunseok couldn't explain his feelings about you because he knew you wouldn't listen. He thought if he showed you, you'd finally understand. He lifts your chin and dips his head down to press a chaste kiss against your lips. When you don't push him away like he half thought you would, he does again to test the waters. Yet you still don't do anything, so he tries it one more time; this time, it's more than just a simple peck.

It starts off small and gradually grows deeper and feverish. You slide your arms around his neck and pull him down towards you. His lips are gentle against yours, just as you imagined they would. It feels so right to have his body pressed against yours, his large hands tugging at your waist, but it feels too good. It feels so good that you begin to feel guilty.

It only takes a slight push on his chest for him to break the kiss and look down on you through hooded eyelids.

“We shouldn’t do this. “ You breathe heavily. You’re so sure this isn’t what he wants. He’s just lost in the heat of the moment. You both are. But the way he looks at you makes you doubt yourself. You rest your head against his chest, sighing, “We can’t do this.”

In the end, you were only trying to save your feelings.

“We don’t have to.” He sounds patting your back gently, and you hate it. You hate that he makes it so hard for you to hate him. He’s so tender and patient with you; you hate that you love it.

“I think you need to go home before we end up doing something we both regret.” You mumble against his chest.

“Why would I regret it?” he asks. You can feel the vibrations from his voice through his skin.

You lift your head to look at him, stuck on how to answer. “We-“ you open your mouth to speak, but you’re instantly cut off with a kiss.

“I’m exactly where I want to be.” He kisses you again.

Sooner than later, he has you caged in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist while he carries you with ease. Maybe that was the perks of "dating" a basketball player.

Slowly, he lays you on your bed. His lips only leave yours to pepper more kisses around your collarbone, trailing all the way down to below your waistline.

Your eyes shoot to the ceiling above you. You're far too shy to watch the other things he does to your body. He's gradually undressing you piece by piece until you are completely naked in front of him. While he remained fully clothed, this made you feel vulnerable and completely open to him. Not many other men could say they've seen you like this, but Eunseok could see all of you. The thought caused your entire body to shudder. Fortunately, he was there to ground you, his larger hands roaming the sheets to find yours as he made your skin heat up.

"Oh goodness, Eunseok." You mutter, biting on your lip.

"How was the dog sitting?" Ningning asks Sohee. You sense a bit of annoyance in her question, but you don't speak about it.

"I don't wanna talk about it." Sohee deadpans.

Ningning shrugs, "Okay." and turns to you. "How was your weekend?"

Instantly, you shake your head and look down at your food. "I don't wanna talk about it." Except Ningning doesn't let up on you as quickly as she did Sohee.

"What happened?" She prods, and thankfully, Sohee steps in.

"I'll tell you what happened!" He huffs. "Lea asks me to dog sit with her. I do, and then she gets mad at me for paying too much attention to the dog. It's called dog sit, not Lea sit."

"Have you thought about just breaking up?" Ningning suggests.

"Yeah, you guys seem to argue a lot." You join in, "which is understandable because you're an idiot, but not even Eunseok and I argue as much as you do. And I ha-"

You trail off when both of your friends stop to look at you. "Hate being away from him. It breaks my soul." You save yourself.

"Exactly." Sohee pipes up, "The thought of breaking up with her kills me. I love her too much; she's crazy, but she's the only one for me. I'm certain."

"You've been dating for two weeks." Ningning grimaces, and you scoff at the conversation.

"When you know. You know."

"Right…" The girl nods, shifting her attention towards you. "So, how about you?"

"Me?" You ask for confirmation. "I'm okay. In fact, I couldn't be better. I'm so okay that okay wants to be me."

"Did you and Eunseok get into a fight?" Ningning asks, reading right through your anxious demeanor.

"You didn't break up, did you?" Sohee asks. Almost as if he summoned him, Eunseok slides into the seat next to you.

"Who's breaking up?" He asks before pressing a soft kiss on your cheek.

Ningnings eyes remain on you, her eyes squinting as she reads your body language. How you jolt away from him, the awkward smile, the lack of physical touch. Something's definitely up, and she wants to find out.

"How was your weekend?" She aims her question towards your boyfriend, resting her chin in her palm.

"My weekend was amazing." He glances back at her. Mentally, you thank him for not making things too obvious, and Ningning curses him for that exact thing.

"What made it so amazing?" She questions further.

"Um-" "He was able to knock some really important stuff off of his to-do list." You jump in to answer for him.

Interesting. She thinks. "What was on your to-do list?" She asks.

"Wow, you're asking a lot of questions," He laughs awkwardly, oblivious to the way you're bouncing in anticipation, biting down on your lips until you think you taste blood.

"Yeah, what's with all the questions?" Sohee seconds.

"I just wanna know the details." Ningning defends, "Unless you have something to hide."

"We had sex." You blurt shamefully, tucking your head into the crook of Eunseoks neck to shield you from embarrassment. The pressure became too much for you to bear.

She knew something was up, but she didn't expect to drag that information out of you. "Oh?" she gasps.

"Me too." Sohee joins, burying his face in his hands. "And we did it in front of the dog." He confesses. You pull your head from Eunseoks shoulder to glare at your best friend.

"In front of the dog?" You ask and he nods, his bottom lip poked out.

"I'm not proud of it."

"You're disgusting." Retorts Ningning, “All of you.” She points to Sohee, "but especially you."

If anyone asked, you'd tell them you were more than confident you could live without caffeine. But realistically, you knew that was a lie. Because you often had days like these where you'd spend all night cramming for a test and wake up a zombie the next day.

Usually, you'd be responsible enough to make sure you had your credit card on you, but this particular time, you were running on forty minutes of sleep and a dream.

"Oh, please." You beg the barista, with long copper blonde hair and a weak excuse for a goatee. "I'll do anything. Just this one time, no one has to know."

The man shrugs carelessly, "There's nothing I can do."

"Except there is," you whine. "Just this one time." You beg, but your efforts count for nothing as the employee begins to work on other tasks, ignoring you as if you weren't even there. You throw your head back and groan, stomping towards one of the seats and throwing your bag down.

Not even ten seconds later, you hear someone else enter the cafe, but you don't care enough to lift your head from the palms of your hands. "Hey,' you hear a painfully familiar voice, and you imagine yourself vanishing in thin air.

"Sorry, I can't talk right now, kinda busy." You mumble into your hands.

"Doing what?" He chuckles, sliding into the chair in front of you.

"Contemplating suicide."

"Woah." Sungchan pulls your hands from your face, forcing you to look at him. Close contact usually makes you freeze up, but you're preoccupied at the moment. "Don't talk like that."

"It's a joke." You roll your eyes. "I'm just super exhausted and have a super important test today. I left my wallet at home, and the barista won't give me one free pass, and I haven't had my weekly hang-out with my friends in three weeks." You throw your head down. "I'm gonna lose it, Sungchan, I'm gonna lose it."

"Would it make you feel better if I got you a coffee?" He asks, his hands still hooked around your wrists.

You lift your chin to face him, eyes lighting up when you ask, "You'd do that? really?"

"It's just a coffee, it's nothing serious." His lips quirk into a bashful smile.

"It's very serious," You murmur, "My future career is on the line."

"Okay, just wait here. I'll be right back." He slips away for just a few minutes before he finds himself back where he started, right in front of you, this time with an iced coffee and a croissant.

"I figured you'd feel better if you had breakfast as well."

"You're amazing, Sungchan. I owe you one."

"Consider it a favor. You're my teammate's girlfriend. It'd be wrong for me to just leave you here." He murmurs. You both stare at each other for a while. Each wanting to say something but not knowing how to say it or where to start.

Sungchan seems to find the words faster than you do. "I don't want things to be awkward between us."

"We wouldn't be so awkward if you didn't scare me so much." You scold him, and he laughs.

"I don't mean to. You just-" He pauses mid sentence.

"I what?"

"You have to get to class Y/n." Sungchan stands up and places his palm on the center of your head. "You're going to be late."

"What?" You ask, but he doesn't say anything else before he leaves the cafe, and you're left to try and figure out what just happened.

"Wow, this is a lot of children." You gasp at all six- and seven-year-olds running around Eunseok's family home.

"It is a children's party." Eunseok remarks.

“Y/n.” Eunseoks little brother runs up to you, wrapping his arms around you when you squat down to meet him at eye level. "You're here."

"Of course." You smile to match his, unaware of the hurdle of children surrounding you until the young boy turns away from you.

"This is my brother's girlfriend. Look how pretty she is." The boy gloats, and the others take turns showering you with compliments.

"You have really cool hair." One kid shouts.

"You look like a rockstar." Says another.

"I wanna be like you when I grow up." The last kid speaks, and by now, your cheeks are red. Overwhelmed with compliments, you look up at Eunseok, expecting him to help you.

He doesn't. He laughs with his arms crossed, amused to see how much the children look up to you.

They remained huddled around you for a bit longer, each asking you questions and sharing pieces of information about themselves. However, once Mrs. Song called out that the piñata was ready, the kids disappeared from in front of you.

Eunseok reaches out to help you, and you accept it. Tightening your lips into a line when you're grounded in front of him.

"I told you everyone likes you." He smiles, interlocking his hands with yours.

"I should've believed you." You say.

You didn't expect so much to change when you took Eunseok up on his offer. You didn't expect that the gym would be like your second home or that you'd care about basketball all of a sudden. You didn't expect to be standing here at a child's birthday party, being randomly showered with compliments ever so often. Or having one child after another tug on your wrist to join them in yet another activity.

By the end of the party, you're exhausted, your feet hurt, and your cheeks are numb from smiling too much. Yet your lips remain turned up into a slight permanent smile.

"Looks like you had fun." Eunseok comments once you've reached your apartment door. You nod, and your smile grows.

"I did." You giggle. "Your parents really know how to throw a party."

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself." He says, swinging one of your arms back and forth. While you use the other to unlock your door.

"I'll see you tomorrow." You hum when the door is open, standing on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his cheek. "Goodnight Eunseok."

He tightens his hold on your hand before you can get too far from him, pulling you right back. You frown before you speak.

"My feet hurt, I need to get to bed." You complain, looking down to your shoes.

"I have a game coming up saturday." He says, fidgety. "I think I'll play better if I had my girlfriend there."

You roll your eyes, a faint smirk tugging at your lips. You do a weak job of trying to contain the butterflies in your stomach. "I'm not your girlfriend." You laugh, but he's looking at you like he's still waiting for an answer. "If I'm not busy that day, I might stop by."

You watch his smile grow, and his hand wraps tighter around yours. "Can I go to bed now?"

"Yeah, of course." He leans down to press his lips against yours. "I'll see you on Saturday then."

"I said I'll think about it, Eunseok." You respond, but you know he isn't listening.

Saturday rolls around, and you find yourself back in the gym. Just as always, it's pretty filled, and you have to push through crowds of people to get to your seat. Ningning trails not too far behind you, both of her hands occupied with the hotdogs she couldn't get the last time. "These are pretty good seats." She says once she takes her seat beside you, both of you leave just enough space for Sohee.

"Do you see him?" You ask, leaning against Ningning as you scan the area for Eunseok. She shakes her head, mumbling something with her mouth full, but you don't spend too much time trying to figure out what she's saying as your eyes land on the very boy you've been searching for. His back is turned towards you, but you know it's him because of the number thirty-nine that's displayed along the back of his jersey. You can't help the giddiness you feel when you see him. The best you can do is bite your lip, but it doesn't do much to contain your emotions.

You watch him for a bit longer. Your eyes are trained on him as if he is the only person in the room, And when he turns around to face you, your heart skips a beat, "Oh, there he goes," Ningning nudges you with her elbow. Yet you're too focused on the basketball player in front of you to even register what she's saying.

'Why didn't you tell me you were here?" Eunseok asks, already pressing a kiss on your lips,

"You seemed busy." You reply, "I didn't wanna interrupt you."

You look away when his coach yells for him, but Eunseoks eyes remain on you. "You're not gonna leave, right?" He asks, and you shake your head.

"Wish me luck," Eunseok says last as he pulls you into another kiss.

"Good luck." You hum loud enough for him to hear. You catch his smile before he backs away from you, swiftly making his way towards the floor before the game starts. You're left with a big grin on your face, oblivious to the way your friends watch you.

"What did I just watch?" Sohee asks, breaking you out of your trance.

"When did you get here?" You change the subject unintentionally.

"He got here a while ago." Ningning answers, "You were just too occupied to notice."

You turn away in embarrassment, searching for anything to distract you. That's when your eyes land on another couple, "Is Lea coming?" You ask

"No, she said since she's not into Eunseok anymore, sports don't really entertain her." Sohee shrugs.

You and Ningning gasp, "Oh?" at the same time.

"But it's been a while since the three of us hung out, so that's why I'm here." He continues, "Do you think she misses me?"

"Doesn't matter." Ningning shakes her head, "If she missed you that much, she'd be here with you." And just as she wraps up her sentence, Lea plops down right on Sohee's lap.

"Great." Your friend sucks her teeth, glaring at you.

You watch Sohee's smile grow and see as they break off into their own conversation. Both of them forget that you and Ningning were even there. That's how it stays throughout the entire evening; the two of them remain wrapped up in eachother while you watch Eunseok on the floor.

Your eyes are stuck on his every move. It's almost magnetic. Every so often, his head would shoot up in your direction, and he'd lock eyes with you.

When the game ends, you're the first person he looks for. A wide grin is evident on his face as he effortlessly lifts you in his arms and collapses his lips onto yours. For a second, it feels like it's just you and him, but you're harshly reminded of the crowd surrounding you when you hear his dad's voice. You scream and slide off of Eunseok, shielding your face in his chest. They proceed to have a short conversation, but you're too busy burying yourself in your own embarrassment to hear anything they're saying.

You know the conversation is over when Mr Song squeezes your shoulder and wishes you a farewell. "He's gone," Eunseok whispers against your ear, but you only shake your head.

"I want to die." You mutter against him, to which he simply laughs and wraps you into a bear hug.

Eunseok quickly changes his clothes after telling your friends that he wants to be the one to take you home. Neither of them found an issue with it since Sohee wanted to stay with Lea, and Ningning had her Netflix series to catch up on.

It's almost pitch dark. The wind blows through your hair as you walk towards your apartment, presumably. If it weren't for the fact that Eunseok was holding your hand, you would've already wrapped your arms around yourself to preserve your warmth.

Without asking, Eunseok slips his hand from yours to wrap his jacket around. You let out a sigh of relief at the newfound warmth, but that's when you realize this isn't the way to your apartment.

"Where are we going?" You ask, halting as you look around.

"There's a party-"Eunseok begins to explain.

"I don't want to go to a party. I wanna go home." You whine. He pulls you closer when you attempt to pull away from him.

"I'll pay you." He bribes you, but you shake your head.

"That's not gonna work this time." You try once again to back away, and just as before, he pulls you right back. Only this time, he wraps his arms around you.

"Then do it for me. I just made it through the finals, and as my girlfriend, I think you should reward me."

"Pretend, girlfriend." You correct him, "I don't owe you anything."

"Actually, you do; it's your duty to appear as my real girlfriend." His growing smile sends shivers down your spine, "What will people think if I show up alone?"

"Whatever they want." You shrug, "It's not my reputation at stake."

"You're so stubborn." He laughs, pulling you along with him.

The "party" could be classified as a hangout. Most of Eunseoks' teammates are there, including Seunghan, Shotaro, Anton, and a few other people you've seen around campus. Despite the low crowd, you still cling to Eunseok. He doesn't seem to mind it as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, holding you closer than you already were.

The music was just a few notches below what you'd consider too loud, and surprisingly, it didn't smell like sweat and alcohol. On the contrary, the scent of the room was quite pleasant. As Eunseok converses with some of his friends, your eyes wander around the space. You notice the seventies-inspired decor, the record player tucked in the corner, and a life-sized sculpture of the school mascot standing beside it. But It's the pool table that catches your eye.

You turn away from Eunseok as you watch the crowd surrounding the table. Each of them places a twenty dollar bill on the stool beside the table before they start the game, and you can't help but watch, knowing that you'd win if you were given the opportunity.

The players are in their element, the cue sticks gliding like silk in their hands as they aim for the vibrant balls on the table. The sharp crack of the cue ball against the others reverberates through the room as precise shots are made, and the players exchange confident smiles and spirited banter.

The anticipation in the air is palpable as the game reaches a crucial point. The onlookers lean in their expressions, reflecting the tension of the game. As you watch, you feel the excitement building, imagining yourself stepping up to the table, calculating angles, and planning your shots with precision.

As the game draws to a close, the victorious player triumphantly pockets the final ball, claiming the prize money. The room erupts to cheers and applause. "Do you wanna play?" Eunseoks voice breaks you out of your trance. You blink up at him and shake your head, but he can see right through you.

Swiftly he pulls you along to the table, and sits a twenty dollar bill on the stool. "You'll do great" he says followed by a kiss to your temple. Eunseok slides his hand out of yours, and backs away from you.

You gingerly picked up the cue stick, feeling the smooth wooden surface in your hand, and carefully applied chalk to its tip. Your eyes surveyed the arrangement of colorful balls, already visualizing each shot in your mind. With a sense of determination, you leaned over the table, your gaze fixed on the target. The world around you seemed to slow down as you prepared to take your shot, your mind calculating the angles and forces needed for a successful strike.

Taking a deep breath, you executed your shot with precision and finesse. The cue ball glided across the felt, expertly striking the others in a harmonious dance as the balls ricocheted off one another, following the calculated path you had envisioned.

The game progressed with a steady rhythm, the players engaging in friendly banter and playful teasing as they vied for dominance. Every successful shot garnered a mix of applause and good natured ribbing, enhancing the camaraderie and a sense of shared enjoyment. The room was filled with warmth of shared fun and spirit of healthy competition.

You step up when it becomes your turn again, lifting your stick and sliding down the table just centimeters before the cue ball. You take your shot. The satisfying thud as it made contact with the colored balls echoed through your ears. Your hands flew up when the last ball found its pocket.

The first person you look for is Eunseok. You throw your arms around him, and he wraps his around your waist, hoisting you into the air. When you slide off of him, he holds your hand open to place the prize money in the center of your palm. "It's all yours." He murmurs.

You scoff playfully, trying your best to suppress a smile. "You're so cute."

"We're still not friends." You blurt.

Eunseok grins, "I thought that was obvious," he says. "I mean, friends don't do what we did."

He's amused with how your cheeks flush red and how speechless you've become. You don't even bother trying to come up with some snarky remark. Instead, you mutter, "Shut up." and Eunseok laughs.

The sound of basketballs bouncing against the waxed floor meets your ears the second you walk into the gym. You smile softly when you catch sight of Eunseok. You throw your bag off to the side and take a seat, watching as he bounces the ball around before he takes his shot. That pattern continues a few more times before you make a noise to let him know you're there.

Eunseok turns around immediately, an involuntary smile approaching his face. He runs over to you with the basketball in his hand. He's sweaty, and his hair is stuck to his forehead, but none of it bothers you. You still grin when he approaches you.

"Why did you call me here?" you ask teasingly.

He doesn't answer your question at first; he just kisses you, and you kiss him back. "If I make this, you have to let me be your boyfriend." He says, and you can't help but smile.

You don't get to say anything before he's running away from you and towards the court. He bounces the ball longer than he should, and just when he goes to shoot, he misses. You giggle to yourself but bite your lip when he turns to look at you. You get up, walk towards him, and wrap your arms around his abdomen, "You don't need to shoot a basketball to ask me to be your girlfriend, weirdo."

"I thought it'd be less embarrassing to miss than it would be for you to reject me." He says, defeated.

"Who said I would reject you?"

You watch his eyes light up right before he leans down to kiss you, wrapping his arms around your waist and sweeping you off your feet.

#riize eunseok #eunseok fluff #Eunseok fake dating #eunseok #riize x reader #riize imagines #riize fluff #eunseok x reader #eunseok riize #promise you doie #fluff #riize

344 notes · View notes

seafarersdream · 2 months ago

Text

Campaign Trail | Modern AU! (Gwayne Hightower x Y/N)

Strap in for the wild ride of Gwayne Hightower’s political rise, as seen through the eyes of his campaign manager, Y/N. From clueless debates to dodging scandalous tabloids and pretending he knows the price of a pint, Gwayne is your classic posh boy gone rogue running as a Lib Dem candidate. And it’s Y/N’s job to keep his ego in check, his speeches on point, and, occasionally, his pants on. Welcome to the Gwayne Hightower campaign. Expect chaos. Word count: 12k

TW // Strong language and profanities, characters frequently consume alcohol (including scenes of heavy drinking), boss/employee romantic trope, power dynamics, sexual and crass humor, depictions of extreme wealth and privilege (rich assholes basically).

“Bloody hell, Gwayne, are you even listening to me?” Y/N slammed her pen down on the table, the clatter echoing through the dimly lit campaign office. It was well past midnight, and the stale smell of cold pizza mixed with the faint scent of Gwayne’s overpriced cologne was starting to make her head spin.

Gwayne Hightower, the posh prat in question, barely looked up from his phone. He was lounging back in his chair, long legs stretched out like he owned the place — which, to be fair, he probably did in some indirect, old-money, nepotistic kind of way. “I am listening,” he drawled, though his thumb kept scrolling. “Something about, uh, housing and healthcare. Right?”

Y/N rolled her eyes so hard she could’ve seen the back of her skull. “Yeah, mate, just the minor detail of your whole bloody platform,” she shot back, sarcasm dripping from every word. “You know, the stuff that actually makes people vote for you?”

Gwayne’s lips curled into that infuriatingly perfect smirk, the kind that belonged more to a model, not on some would-be politician. “You mean the bit where I pretend to care?”

She let out a frustrated sigh and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, the pretending bit. But let’s make it convincing this time, yeah?”

The office was a mess of coffee cups, crumpled notes, and campaign leaflets. A lone desk lamp threw a harsh yellow light across the room, casting long shadows on the wall. Outside, the rain battered against the windows, the only sound in the quiet street below. The clock ticked loudly, reminding them of every minute they were wasting.

Y/N picked up a sheet of paper, waving it in his face. “Look, you need to hit them where it matters. People care about the NHS. They care about whether they can afford to put a roof over their heads. Not about… whatever posh nonsense you were going on about last week.”

Gwayne finally put down his phone, leaning forward with a feigned look of interest. “What was wrong with what I said?”

She snorted. “Mate, you can’t promise a home for every hardworking Brit when your idea of a starter home is a bloody Georgian townhouse in Chelsea.”

Gwayne chuckled, and for a second, she hated how charming he could be when he wasn’t being an absolute prat. “Fair point. Alright, Ms. Campaign Manager, what do we say?”

Y/N leaned in, their faces just inches apart, and she could see the flecks of gold in his blue eyes. “You say,” she whispered, “that you’re going to make housing affordable, that you’ll protect the NHS like it’s the crown jewels, and that you actually give a damn about people who don’t have trust funds or daddy’s money to fall back on.”

He stared at her, something unreadable flickering across his face. “You think they’ll buy it?”

She arched an eyebrow. “Not if you keep looking like you’re about to laugh every time you say it. You need to mean it, Gwayne. Or at least act like you do. Think of it like… theatre.”

He laughed, a deep, genuine sound that surprised her. “Theatre, is it? So what, am I Olivier or just a bloke in a bad panto?”

Y/N grinned. “Depends. You reckon you can handle a bit of method acting? Maybe imagine you’re someone who doesn’t have everything handed to them on a silver platter?”

Gwayne leaned back, still watching her, and she felt a strange tension crackle between them, something electric, something unspoken. “You’ve got a smart mouth, Y/N. That why I hired you?”

She shrugged, trying to ignore the heat creeping up her neck. “Nah. You hired me because I’m the only one who’ll call you out on your bullshit.”

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “You like calling me out, don’t you?”

Her breath hitched for just a second, and she cursed herself for letting him get to her. “Someone has to,” she said, her voice steady. “And you clearly love it.”

His smirk grew. “Maybe I do.”

She felt her face flush and decided to change the subject before she ended up doing something stupid. Like kissing that smug grin right off his face. “Right, back to work. We need a slogan that sticks. Something the punters will remember. Something that makes them think you’re the real deal.”

Gwayne leaned back, eyes still locked on hers, a challenge glinting in them. “You mean something like, Vote for me or I’ll bloody well buy your house myself?”

Y/N snorted, and for a moment, the tension eased. “Yeah, that’ll go down a treat in Hackney.”

“Alright,” he said, leaning closer again, his voice softer now, more serious. “Help me, then. What do I say?”

She felt that pull again, that magnetic draw that made her want to slap him and snog him in equal measure. She shook her head, trying to focus. “You say,” she murmured, leaning in so close their noses almost touched, “that you’re going to fight for them like you’d fight for your own bloody life. That every day you’re in office, you’re not just some posh tosser playing politics. You’re there because you bloody care.”

Gwayne’s breath brushed against her lips, and she swore she saw his eyes flicker to her mouth. “And you think they’ll believe me?”

She felt her heart race, her pulse quickening. “They’ll believe it,” she whispered, “if you say it like you bloody well mean it.”

For a second, everything hung in the air between them, the rain pounding against the window like a drumbeat, their breaths mingling in the space between. And then he moved back, breaking the spell, his grin back in place.

“Alright,” he said, voice light again. “Let’s do this, then. Make me sound like a bloody hero.”

Y/N smiled, picking up her pen. “Oh, I will. And you better not cock it up.”

He winked. “Wouldn’t dream of it, love.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the grin tugging at her lips. She will either kill this campaign, or it kills her first. Which she is not sure yet.

▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▌

“Remember, Gwayne,” Y/N muttered as she straightened his tie, fingers brushing against his collar for a moment too long, “Stick to the message. Focus on the solutions, not the problems. You’re not just some arse in a suit; you’re the bloke who’s going to fix this mess.”

Gwayne’s grin was too confident for her liking. “Yeah, yeah, I got it,” he replied, eyes twinkling with that familiar arrogance. “It’s not my first rodeo.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Right, because you’ve handled so many housing crises in your plush penthouse.”

He chuckled. “Come on, love. Give me a bit of credit. I’ve been prepping for this all week.”

“Yeah, and it shows,” Y/N shot back, sarcasm sharp enough to cut glass. “Now, get in there, charm their pants off, but for God’s sake, don’t let him corner you on the numbers.”

The studio lights were blinding, hot enough to feel like the sun itself had decided to join them inside. Across from Gwayne sat Martin Caldwell, a journalist infamous for his pitbull tactics and never letting a politician off the hook. Caldwell looked like a vulture in a cheap suit, his eyes narrowed and mouth twitching as if he could already smell the blood.

Gwayne settled into his chair, flashing that perfect smile. “Thanks for having me, Martin,” he said smoothly.

Martin didn’t bother with pleasantries. “Let’s cut to the chase, shall we, Gwayne?” he said, leaning forward, voice like a scalpel. “Housing crisis. The capital’s got over 60,000 homeless households, more than 80,000 children living in temporary accommodation. And that number’s only climbing. Now, you’re here, all clean and polished, talking about affordable housing, but let’s be real — what’s your plan, really? Because people out there, they’re struggling. They’re angry.”

Gwayne didn’t flinch, kept his smile steady. “Look, Martin, the housing crisis is a massive issue, no question. It’s about more than just numbers; it’s about people, families—”

“But let’s talk about numbers, Gwayne,” Martin cut him off, eyes gleaming. “Since 2010, there’s been a 70% increase in households in temporary accommodation. 70%! That’s a bloody lot, isn’t it? How do you plan to fix that with just more of the same?”

Y/N watched from the sidelines, her heart thudding against her ribs. This wasn’t going to be easy. She’d told him to stick to the message, keep it simple, but she could already see Caldwell trying to lure him into a trap. Gwayne’s jaw tightened — just a fraction, but she saw it. And so did Caldwell.

“Look, the current policies clearly haven’t worked,” Gwayne replied, leaning in, voice steady. “What we need is a radical overhaul. A commitment to building a new generation of affordable homes, partnerships between government and private sectors, and a serious plan to cut down the bureaucratic red tape that—”

Caldwell pounced. “Right, but where’s the money coming from, Gwayne? You’re talking about a ‘radical overhaul,’ but that means a radical budget. Are you going to raise taxes? Cut other services? Let’s hear it, Gwayne. What’s the actual plan?”

Gwayne hesitated, just for a second, and Y/N felt her stomach drop. That was all Caldwell needed. The interviewer leaned in further, voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Or is this just another politician’s promise? More hot air while kids sleep in shelters?”

Gwayne’s smile faltered, just a flicker, but it was enough. He could feel the pressure mounting, the audience’s eyes on him, waiting for a stumble. “Look,” he started, but his voice wasn’t quite as strong now, “it’s a complex issue, and we’re working—”

Caldwell cut him off again, like a shark sensing blood in the water. “Working on what, Gwayne? A plan that doesn't exist?”

Y/N’s heart pounded in her ears. Damn it, this was spiraling, and fast. She moved closer to the stage manager, whispering frantically. “I need to get on his earpiece. Now.”

Seconds later, Gwayne heard her voice, calm and clear through his earpiece. “Stop defending. Go on the attack. Talk about the real culprits — landlords, greedy developers, government failures. Take control, Gwayne, before he buries you.”

Gwayne’s eyes flicked to the camera, and his posture straightened. He smiled, but this time there was steel behind it. “Alright, Martin, let’s talk about the real issue here,” he said, his voice steadying. “The housing crisis didn’t happen overnight, and it didn’t happen because of the people living in temporary accommodation. It happened because of decades of government inaction, because landlords were given free reign to hike rents, because developers were allowed to build luxury flats while people can’t afford a basic home.”

Caldwell raised an eyebrow, surprised by the shift. “So, you’re blaming the private sector now?”

“I’m blaming a system that’s rigged, Martin,” Gwayne shot back, finding his stride. “A system where a handful of people get rich while everyone else suffers. And that’s what I’m here to change. To fight for a fair deal, not just for the few, but for everyone.”

Y/N could see Caldwell’s eyes narrow. He wasn’t expecting this. Good. Keep him off balance.

Caldwell pressed again, but now there was a hint of frustration. “But specifics, Gwayne. People want to know how—”

“I’ll give you specifics,” Gwayne cut in sharply, leaning forward. “First, we cap rents to stop people being priced out of their own communities. We fund social housing properly, no more of these half-hearted measures. We build homes people can actually afford, and we crack down on empty properties left to rot while families go homeless. And yeah, Martin, if that means stepping on a few toes in the private sector, so be it. Because this isn’t about comfort. It’s about doing what’s right.”

There was a pause. Caldwell seemed momentarily lost for words, and that was all Y/N needed. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

Gwayne finished strong. “I’m not here to make friends with the developers or the landlords, Martin. I’m here to make sure that every child in this country has a safe place to call home.”

Caldwell recovered, trying to regain control. “Strong words, Gwayne. But can you deliver?”

Gwayne smiled, this time without hesitation. “Watch me.”

The interview wrapped up, and Y/N could feel the tension slowly ease out of her shoulders. As Gwayne walked off set, she met him in the wings, her expression a mix of frustration and begrudging admiration.

“Nice save,” she said, crossing her arms.

Gwayne grinned, a bit of the cockiness back. “Thanks to you. You always know just what to say, don’t you?”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help a smile. “You were one misstep away from a bloody train wreck, you know that?”

He stepped closer, his voice low, teasing. “Maybe I like a bit of danger. Keeps things interesting.”

She felt that familiar heat rise between them, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “Well, next time, try not to give me a heart attack on live TV, yeah?”

Gwayne chuckled. “No promises. But… thanks, Y/N. Really.”

She gave him a nod. “Just doing my job. Now let’s go. We’ve got a lot of damage control to do.”

He watched her walk away, a smile tugging at his lips. “And here I thought we just saved the day.”

Y/N looked back over her shoulder, grinning. “Maybe. But the day’s not over yet, Hightower.”

▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▌

“This place is bloody ridiculous, Gwayne.” Y/N muttered as she wandered through the lavish rooms of his Belgravia townhouse, glass of absinthe in hand. The place screamed money — old money, the kind that people like her never saw outside of films or the pages of Tatler. She ran her fingers along the gilded edge of a massive mirror, its frame probably worth more than her yearly salary.

Gwayne, sprawled comfortably on a deep leather sofa, shot her a lopsided grin. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She rolled her eyes and took a swig of her drink, the bitter taste burning down her throat. “I mean, look at this,” she said, gesturing around with her glass. “A townhouse in Belgravia? You’ve got Raphaels hanging on your walls, for fuck’s sake. You collect rare artwork like most people collect fridge magnets.”

He glanced at the painting she was pointing to — a delicate Madonna in blues and golds, her serene face glowing softly in the low light of the room. “Not just any Raphaels. The best ones. Acquired at private auctions, if you must know,” he replied with a lazy smirk. “It’s not a crime to have taste.”

Y/N snorted. “Yeah, because that’s what everyone does with their disposable income. Attend auctions with the world’s elite and outbid some oligarch for a Bernini bust.”

He grinned wider. “It was a spirited bidding war, I’ll give you that. Oligarchs can be quite tenacious.”

She laughed despite herself, shaking her head. “You’re something else, Hightower.”

The townhouse was ridiculously opulent. The kind of place that would feature in a glossy spread titled London’s Most Exclusive Homes. Velvet drapes framed enormous windows that looked out onto pristine, manicured gardens. The walls were adorned with priceless works of art, paintings that most people would only see behind thick glass in a museum. A faint scent of rich leather and wood polish filled the air, mingling with the sharper notes of absinthe.

Gwayne had insisted on pouring her a drink the moment they got in, promising her it would “take the edge off.” And she had to admit, it was doing the trick.

“Alright, you’ve buttered me up with the fancy booze,” Y/N said, plopping herself into a chair that felt like sinking into a cloud. “Now spill. Why the bloody hell are you running as a Liberal Democrat?”

Gwayne blinked, surprised by the bluntness of her question. Then he chuckled. “You’ve been dying to ask me that, haven’t you?”

“Are you kidding? It’s been killing me,” she shot back, leaning forward. “I mean, look at you. Everything about you screams Tory. The suits, the townhouse, the art collection that could fund a small country. And yet here you are, waving the Lib Dem flag. It doesn’t add up.”

He took a slow sip of his own absinthe, letting her words hang in the air. “Maybe I like a challenge,” he finally said, a hint of mischief in his tone.

She snorted again. “Oh, come off it. You’re not in this for a challenge. You’re in it for… hell, I don’t know, but it’s not because you’re a bleeding heart liberal. So why?”

Gwayne’s smile faded slightly, his blue eyes studying her carefully. “Maybe I actually believe in something, Y/N. Did you ever think of that?”

She held his gaze, not backing down. “Sure. I just thought that something would involve tax cuts for the rich and a couple of fox hunts on the weekends.”

He laughed, a real laugh this time, not the polished, practiced chuckle he usually gave to the cameras. “Alright, fair play. I can see why you’d think that.”

“So…?” she pressed.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair, swirling the emerald liquid in his glass. “Alright, you want the truth?”

“That’s why I asked,” she replied, her tone softer now.

He hesitated, just for a moment, before speaking again. “I was supposed to be Tory. God, was I ever. Family’s a line of them. Granddad, Dad, every bloody Hightower since time began, probably. I was raised for it, groomed for it. Eton, Oxford, the whole bloody conveyor belt to Westminster.”

She nodded. “I’m with you so far. Still not seeing where the Lib Dem part comes in.”

Gwayne leaned forward, his voice lower, more serious. “It was all set up. Tory membership card practically in my cradle. Then one day, I actually took a look at what was happening around me. Went to a few dinners, talked to the ‘right’ people. Listened to them… talk. And, Christ, Y/N, it made me sick.”

She blinked, surprised. “You? Sick? You love a posh dinner as much as the next trust fund baby.”

He shook his head. “It wasn’t the dinners, love. It was the people at them. The entitlement. The utter lack of care for anyone outside their bubble. I realized I didn’t want to be part of that. Not if it meant towing the line on policies that only protect the people who’ve already got everything. The way they talked about people… like they were numbers, not lives. I couldn’t do it.”

She leaned back, considering his words. “So, you’re telling me you had some grand epiphany?”

He shrugged. “Something like that. I figured, if I was going to get into politics, I’d do it to actually make a difference. The Lib Dems… they’re not perfect, but they’re about giving a damn about everyone, not just the privileged few.”

Y/N arched an eyebrow. “And you’re not one of the privileged few?”

He laughed. “Oh, I am. Born and bloody bred. But that doesn’t mean I have to play by their rules. Maybe I want to rewrite them.”

She stared at him, her heart unexpectedly softening. Maybe this privileged prat actually believed what he was saying. “So, what’s the endgame then? 10 Downing Street?”

He chuckled. “Maybe. But that’s for another day. Right now, I just want to make some noise and see if anyone’s listening.”

She took another sip of her absinthe, feeling the warmth spread through her chest. “Well, you’ve got my attention, at least.”

He leaned closer, a playful glint in his eye. “Oh, I noticed.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was a smile tugging at her lips. “Don’t let it go to your head, Hightower. I’m still here to make sure you don’t bollocks this up.”

He grinned. “I’d be lost without you, Y/N.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “Yeah, you would.”

For a moment, the room seemed smaller, the space between them charged, and Y/N felt that familiar pull again — the magnetic tension that always seemed to hang in the air whenever they were close. She tore her gaze away, looking around at the paintings instead.

“This absinthe’s going straight to my head,” she muttered.

He chuckled, watching her closely. “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Careful, Gwayne. I’m still your campaign manager. You need me sober enough to make sure you don’t say something stupid again.”

He leaned back, his smile still in place. “Fair enough. But maybe just for tonight, we can forget about campaigns and crises. Just… be two people having a drink.”

Y/N met his eyes, and for once, she couldn’t find a quick comeback. “Yeah,” she said softly. “Maybe just for tonight.”

And for a brief, quiet moment, neither of them spoke. The townhouse, with all its ridiculous wealth and art, seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them, caught in the electric tension of what might be.

▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▌

The rain was coming down in sheets, turning the streets of Hackney into a grey, slick mess. Puddles formed in the cracks of the pavements, and the smell of wet concrete hung in the air. Y/N was soaked to the bone, her coat heavy with rain, but she didn’t care. She was too busy making sure Gwayne didn’t make an utter arse of himself.

They were in the heart of Hackney, one of the neighborhoods hardest hit by the housing crisis. Rundown council flats lined the streets, their brick facades crumbling, windows boarded up or patched with mismatched panes of glass. Gwayne’s designer shoes were caked in mud, and she couldn’t help but smirk as he tried to navigate the uneven pavement, clearly out of his comfort zone.

“Careful, mate,” she teased, nudging him with her elbow. “Wouldn’t want to scuff those fancy loafers of yours.”

Gwayne shot her a look, half-amused, half-exasperated. “I’ll have you know these are perfectly sensible shoes.”

“Sensible?” she scoffed. “For what? A yacht party in Monaco?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Just focus on the job, yeah?”

The rain showed no sign of letting up, but the community center up ahead was buzzing with activity. Inside, a group of local residents, activists, and a few journalists had gathered. The room was crowded, the air thick with the smell of damp coats and instant coffee. There was a mix of skepticism and curiosity on the faces of the people, and Y/N knew this was their chance to make an impression.

She turned to Gwayne, lowering her voice. “Alright, here’s the plan. Listen more than you speak. They don’t need another politician giving them empty promises. They need to feel like you’re actually listening to their problems.”

Gwayne nodded, adjusting his jacket. “Got it. No posh nonsense.”

She gave him a small, approving smile. “And for the love of God, don’t mention your townhouse.”

He grinned. “Noted.”

As they stepped inside, all eyes turned to them. The chatter quieted down, replaced by the soft hum of whispered conversations. Y/N could feel the tension in the air, the weight of expectation. Gwayne moved forward, shaking hands, offering polite nods and warm smiles, and to his credit, he seemed genuinely interested.

But she could sense the underlying wariness from the crowd. These were people who had been promised a lot by politicians, only to be disappointed time and again. They weren’t going to be won over by a posh accent and a well-tailored suit.

She nudged him toward a group of women huddled in the corner, each with tired eyes and worn faces. “Start here,” she murmured. “Single mothers. Most of them on the housing waiting list for years.”

Gwayne approached them with a disarming smile. “Hello ladies, I’m Gwayne Hightower,” he began, reaching out to shake their hands. “I’m here to listen to your concerns and see how we can work together to make things better.”

One of the women, a middle-aged lady with a mane of curly hair and an accent as thick as the rain outside, crossed her arms, eyeing him suspiciously. “You a politician, then?” she asked, her tone laced with skepticism.

Gwayne nodded. “Yes, I’m running for Parliament—”

She cut him off, snorting. “Figures. Another posh boy with promises, eh? What makes you different from the rest?”

Y/N held her breath. This was it. Make or break. She watched as Gwayne took a breath, steadying himself. “I know it doesn’t mean much, but I’m here because I want to change things. I know I come from a different background, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about what’s happening here.”

The woman eyed him for a moment, then turned to Y/N. “And you? You believe him?”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “Me?”

“Yeah,” the woman pressed. “You look like you’ve got a brain in your head. Why you working for him?”

Y/N hesitated, glancing at Gwayne. For a second, she wasn’t sure how to answer. But then she decided to be honest. “Because I think he actually gives a damn. As much as it pains me to admit it.”

The woman’s eyes softened a fraction. “A posh boy who cares, eh? That’s a new one.”

Gwayne chuckled, relaxing a bit. “I promise you, I’m full of surprises.”

Before the woman could respond, a young man in his twenties stepped forward, anger flashing in his eyes. “What are you going to do about the housing crisis?” he demanded, his voice sharp. “I’ve been stuck in a hostel for two years with my daughter. No council house, no help. You lot don’t care about us. You don’t have to live like we do.”

Gwayne met his gaze, a serious expression crossing his face. “You’re right. I don’t live like you do. But that doesn’t mean I can’t fight to change it.”

The man scoffed. “Easy for you to say. You’ll go back to your fancy house tonight, yeah? What do you know about struggling?”

Y/N felt a surge of defensiveness on Gwayne’s behalf, but before she could speak, Gwayne raised a hand, his voice calm. “I don’t know what it’s like to be in your shoes. But I’m here because I want to learn, and I want to do something about it. I want to make sure that people like you don’t have to go through this.”

The young man seemed taken aback by the directness of his answer. “Yeah? And how are you going to do that?”

Gwayne looked him straight in the eye. “By building more affordable homes, by fighting for rent controls, by holding landlords accountable, and by putting pressure on the government to prioritize housing over profits.”

Y/N watched the young man, his expression slowly shifting from anger to something closer to consideration. Maybe even hope. She felt a flicker of something in her chest — pride? Maybe.

But then, the conversation was interrupted by an older woman, her face lined with years of hardship. “Talk is cheap, love,” she said quietly. “We’ve heard it all before.”

Gwayne nodded, not shying away from the hard truth. “You’re right. It is. But I’m here because I want to prove I’m different. And if I’m not, then hold me accountable. Make sure I deliver.”

The older woman studied him for a moment, then gave a small, reluctant nod. “Alright, then. We’ll see.”

Y/N turned away from Gwayne for a moment and spotted an elderly man sitting in the corner, his hands trembling as he held onto a cane. She approached him, crouching down. “Hello,” she said softly. “What’s your name?”

“Frank,” he replied, his voice raspy. “I’m here every week… watchin’… listening.”

Y/N smiled gently. “What do you think of all this, Frank?”

He chuckled, a dry, weary sound. “Think he’s different, your lad. Might even mean it. But they all mean it at first, don’t they?”

She nodded slowly. “Yeah, I suppose they do.”

Frank’s eyes twinkled. “But he’s got fire. And fire’s what we need. Someone to burn the whole bloody system down and start fresh.”

Y/N glanced back at Gwayne, who was deep in conversation, genuinely listening, and she felt something stir inside her. Maybe Frank was right. Maybe Gwayne wasn’t just a posh boy with a fancy townhouse and a taste for absinthe. Maybe he was something more.

She turned back to Frank and smiled. “Yeah, maybe he is.”

Frank nodded, then winked. “You make sure he don’t lose that fire, eh?”

Y/N grinned. “Oh, I will, Frank. I will.”

Y/N could feel the crowd’s eyes on her, a mix of doubt, curiosity, and frustration etched into their faces. This was her moment. If they were going to stand a chance of winning over Hackney, she had to make them believe. Not just in Gwayne, but in what they could actually do together.

She stepped forward, hands raised in a gesture of openness. “Alright, listen up,” she called, her voice cutting through the murmurs of the room. “I know what you’re all thinking. Who’s this posh boy, swanning in here with his fancy shoes, telling us he’s going to solve our problems?”

A few people in the crowd nodded, some even chuckling in agreement. Gwayne shot her a wary look, but she ignored it, pressing on.

“You’re right,” she continued. “He’s got a swanky townhouse, he collects art worth more than most of us will see in our lifetimes, and he probably can’t tell a Greggs pasty from a bloody foie gras. But wouldn’t you rather have one of these posh boys on your side for once?”

The crowd was listening now, intrigued. She could see the skepticism starting to crack just a little.

“Think about it,” she went on, her voice gaining strength. “He’s got money. He’s got connections. He knows the people who pull the strings, the ones who make decisions about your lives while sipping champagne in Mayfair. He’s got the kind of influence that actually moves things along. Don’t you want someone like that fighting in your corner instead of against you?”

A few heads nodded slowly. She caught the eye of the young man from earlier, still frowning but clearly considering her words.

“And before you write me off as just another one of his people,” she added, raising her chin, “I’m not like him. Not by a long shot. I’m from Manchester — Manny born and bred. My dad owns a power tool shop, and my mum’s been working as a caterer for as long as I can remember. I worked my arse off to get into university, full ride scholarship because that was the only way I was getting in.”

She saw a few faces in the crowd soften, nodding in recognition. They knew what it meant to work for everything you had.

“And now here I am,” she continued, with a hint of defiance in her voice, “standing next to this posh, pretty boy. Not because I believe in his money or his connections, but because I believe he actually wants to do some good. Because for once, we’ve got one of these guys willing to take a stand, to fight for something other than his own bloody bank account.”

There was a murmur of approval now, a few people nodding, even clapping. She saw Frank in the corner, grinning like he’d just won a bet.

“So yeah,” Y/N said, letting her voice ring out strong, “I’m all in with him. And if you give him a chance, he’ll show you that he’s all in with you too. What have you got to lose? Another empty promise? Another politician who forgets about you the second they get to Westminster?”

Gwayne looked at her, a new appreciation in his eyes. He hadn’t expected her to go all in like that, to put herself on the line for him in front of these people. She had just thrown her whole story out there, her whole self, and it was resonating.

Y/N turned back to the crowd. “We know how this works, don’t we? We know the system’s rigged, and we know it’s not built for people like us. But here’s the thing — we can’t fight it alone. We need someone who can get into the room, sit at the table, and make some noise. Someone who’s willing to push the boundaries and shake things up.”

She took a deep breath, feeling the adrenaline pumping through her veins. “I’m putting my money where my mouth is. I’m working with him, and I’m going to make damn sure he doesn’t just talk a good game. And if he tries to slack off, I’ll be the first to give him a kick up the arse.”

The crowd chuckled, a few cheers going up, and Y/N felt a surge of relief. They were starting to come around.

“So what do you say?” she finished, raising her voice. “Give us a chance. Hold us accountable. Make us prove it to you. Because I promise you, he’s not perfect — far from it — but he’s got fire, and he’s got the guts to use it.”

A small cheer went up, and Y/N felt a smile break across her face. The woman from before nodded approvingly, the young man seemed to relax a little, and even Frank was clapping slowly, his grin widening.

Gwayne stepped forward, taking his cue from her. “I know I’ve got a lot to prove,” he said, voice steady. “But with Y/N by my side — and with your support — I’m going to fight like hell for this community. For every single one of you.”

A louder cheer erupted this time, and Y/N felt her chest swell with a mix of pride and something else she wasn’t quite ready to name. She caught Gwayne’s eye, and he mouthed a silent “thank you,” a look of awe on his face.

She nodded, just a small dip of her head, but she couldn’t help the grin that spread across her lips. “Don’t thank me yet,” she whispered as he turned back to the crowd, her voice low enough only for him to hear. “We’ve still got a long way to go, posh boy.”

He chuckled, that infectious grin back on his face.

And as they continued to work the room, shaking hands and listening to stories, Y/N felt something shift.

▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▌

“This place doesn’t even have a bloody sign,” Y/N muttered, peering up at the unmarked black door set into a pristine brick facade. She shot Gwayne a sidelong glance as they stood on the dimly lit Mayfair street. “Is this one of those places where they judge you if you ask for ketchup?”

Gwayne smirked, adjusting the cufflinks on his tailored suit. “Only if you pronounce it wrong.”

She rolled her eyes, but her nerves were starting to kick in. “And you’re sure I’m dressed alright for this? I’m feeling a bit like Bridget Jones at a state dinner.”

Gwayne gave her a quick once-over, his gaze lingering just a moment too long. “You look perfect,” he said, a bit softer than usual. “Better than perfect. Trust me, they’ll be too busy being themselves to notice.”

She snorted, trying to shake off the unease creeping up her spine. “Well, that’s reassuring. So, remind me again why I’m here?”

Gwayne’s grin widened. “Because I want you to meet my father. And my sister. And because I’m tired of them assuming I’m completely useless.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “So, I’m your human shield, then?”

“More like my secret weapon,” he replied, flashing that grin again, and she felt a flicker of warmth despite herself.

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” she muttered, pushing the door open and stepping inside.

The restaurant was beyond posh. It was the sort of place you didn’t even know existed unless you were born into a world where five-course meals were standard Tuesday fare. Dim lighting, soft jazz playing in the background, and tables spaced so far apart that you’d need a map and a compass to navigate. A sommelier in a suit that probably cost more than Y/N’s rent stood by the door, giving them a nod as they entered.

“Mr. Hightower,” he murmured with a deferential nod. “Your party is already seated.”

“Cheers, mate,” Gwayne replied, slipping the guy a tip that was probably equivalent to a week’s worth of groceries for her.

They were led to a private alcove, tucked away behind a velvet curtain. At the table sat Sir Otto Hightower, the very picture of an aristocratic patriarch, his white hair immaculately styled, a pin on his lapel glinting in the low light — the insignia of a Knight Grand Cross of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire. Because, of course, he bloody was.

Next to him sat Alicent Hightower, Gwayne’s sister, her auburn hair twisted into a perfect chignon, a string of pearls draped around her neck. Alicent was the epitome of a British socialite — impeccably dressed, with that strange air of religious guilt that seemed to cling to her like perfume. Y/N knew the type: all sweetness and light on the surface, but beneath… God only knew.

“Father, Alicent,” Gwayne said, his tone a bit too cheerful. “This is Y/N, my campaign manager.”

Sir Otto’s eyes flicked to Y/N, appraising her with a cold, calculating stare. “Ah, the one steering my son’s misguided adventure,” he murmured, voice smooth as silk but with a sharp edge.

Y/N offered her hand, forcing a smile. “Nice to meet you, Sir Otto. Though I prefer to think of it as a ‘guided’ adventure.”

Otto’s lips twitched slightly, a half-smile. “Quite. And what brings a… Manchester girl to this peculiar position?” He spoke ‘Manchester’ like it was a foreign concept.

Y/N bristled slightly but kept her composure. “Good old-fashioned hard work, Sir Otto. That, and a full scholarship to UCL.”

Alicent, who had been sipping her wine in silence, finally looked up. Her green eyes were bright, inquisitive. “UCL, how… admirable,” she murmured, her voice soft. “Tell me, Y/N, do you believe in God?”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “Er, not the best topic for a first dinner, is it?” she replied with a grin. “But sure, I’d say I’m more spiritual than religious.”

Alicent smiled, but there was something unsettling in it. “Oh, how lovely,” she cooed. “Spiritual… but not tethered to the truth of the Lord’s word.”

Y/N couldn’t help herself. “Well, I suppose the Lord’s word didn’t help much with the housing crisis, did it?”

Gwayne’s eyes widened slightly, and he hid a smirk behind his hand. Sir Otto, however, leaned back, an amused glint in his eyes. “I see you’ve brought a firecracker, Gwayne.”

Gwayne grinned.

Sir Otto’s expression shifted, serious now. “Gwayne, I’m concerned about this… campaign of yours. It’s one thing to indulge in some youthful rebellion, quite another to throw away your future in politics for a party that, frankly, doesn’t hold much weight.”

Y/N decided to jump in. “With all due respect, Sir Otto, that’s precisely why he’s running with the Lib Dems. Because they don’t have the same old baggage, because he wants to make a difference, not just go along with the same tired rhetoric.”

Otto’s eyes narrowed, his gaze sharp and assessing. “And you believe he can do that, Miss…?”

Y/N didn’t miss a beat. “L/N. Y/N L/N,” she replied with a slight tilt of her head, James Bond style. Her tone was cool, collected, and a bit cheeky. She wasn’t going to let him intimidate her, not tonight.

Sir Otto chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound, as he scooped a bite of beluga caviar onto his spoon. “What’s in it for you, Miss L/N?” he asked, his voice dripping with curiosity as he placed the expensive delicacy into his mouth.

Y/N smiled, her expression nonchalant, and met his gaze without flinching. “Well, money, sir,” she said bluntly. “Can’t say no to a decent paycheck, can I?”

Otto laughed, a genuine, hearty sound that seemed to surprise even him. “Ah, honesty. A rare trait in politics. Refreshing.”

Alicent, who had been quiet for a moment, leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with curiosity and a hint of amusement. “She is quite pretty, isn’t she?” she said with a small, mischievous smile. “Tell me, Y/N, any boyfriend? Fiancé? Surely someone must have snatched you up by now.”

Y/N kept her smile, though she felt the sting of the question, the way Alicent’s words seemed to pry at her personal life like a needle. She decided to answer truthfully, but with a touch of humor. “Well,” she began with a dry smile, “the last one ended because he cheated on me with his co-worker.”

Alicent’s eyebrows shot up, and even Otto paused mid-sip of his wine, surprised. Gwayne’s head whipped around so fast he nearly knocked over his water glass.

“Seriously?” Gwayne blurted out, before catching himself. “I mean… sorry, that’s… that’s bloody awful.”

Y/N shrugged, as if it were nothing more than an amusing anecdote. “Yeah, well, it makes for a good story at dinner parties, doesn’t it?”

Otto chuckled, clearly impressed. “You’ve got a tough skin, Miss L/N. You might just be what my son needs after all.”

Y/N grinned, raising her glass slightly. “Cheers to that, Sir Otto. Here’s to tough skins and thicker wallets.”

Alicent smiled, though her eyes were still studying Y/N carefully. “You certainly are… interesting, Y/N. Different from the usual lot Gwayne brings around.”

Y/N met her gaze without flinching. “Good. Because I’m not here to impress anyone, just to get the job done.”

Gwayne couldn’t hide his grin. “And that’s why she’s the best, Father. She’s real. And she’s not afraid to tell me when I’m being an idiot.”

Otto leaned back in his chair, still smiling. “Well, she’s got her work cut out for her then, doesn’t she?”

Alicent laughed softly. “Indeed. I rather like you, Y/N. And believe me, that’s not something I say often.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “I’ll take that as a compliment, I think.”

As the dinner continued, the conversation flowed a bit more easily, a bit more openly. Y/N felt the tension easing just a little, but she knew better than to let her guard down completely. This was still the Hightowers, after all. They were never off-duty, never fully relaxed.

As they walked out of the restaurant into the crisp night air, Gwayne turned to her, an amused smile on his lips. “You were bloody brilliant back there. I think you might have actually impressed them.”

Y/N shrugged, her face breaking into a grin. “Well, it’s about time someone shook things up around here, don’t you think?”

He laughed, slipping his hands into his pockets. “God, I really do need you, Y/N.”

She shot him a sideways glance. “Yeah, well, don’t go getting too soppy on me now, Hightower.”

▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▌

The campaign office was buzzing with a nervous, almost frantic energy. The air was thick with the scent of coffee, sweat, and anticipation. Papers were scattered across desks, phones were ringing off the hook, and the TV in the corner was blaring the election coverage at full volume.

The room was packed with volunteers, team members, and every random person who had decided they wanted a front-row seat to Gwayne Hightower’s political gamble.

Y/N stood by the window, staring out at the rain-slicked streets of Hackney. Her arms were crossed, her foot tapping against the floor in a steady rhythm that betrayed her nerves. She could feel the tension building in the room like a pressure cooker about to blow. This was it. Months of work, endless nights, arguments, laughter, and more cups of coffee than she could count — all leading up to this moment.

She glanced over at Gwayne, who was sitting in the center of the room, gripping a bright orange stress ball in one hand and a glass of scotch in the other. His hair was slightly disheveled, his tie loosened, and there was a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. For the first time in weeks, he looked genuinely worried.

“Jesus, Gwayne, if you squeeze that thing any harder, it’s going to explode,” Y/N teased, trying to lighten the mood.

He gave a tight smile, his fingers tightening around the stress ball even more. “What, this?” he muttered. “This is keeping me from climbing out of the window and legging it down the street.”

She chuckled, walking over and plucking the glass of scotch out of his other hand. “And this?” she asked, taking a sip. “Liquid courage?”

“Something like that,” he muttered. “How’re we doing?”

Y/N glanced at the TV, where the talking heads were dissecting the election results, constituency by constituency. “Early counts look good,” she said, though her voice was steadier than she felt. “But it’s still too close to call.”

Gwayne nodded, his eyes flicking nervously to the screen. “Bloody hell. I haven’t felt this nervous since that time I accidentally set fire to the old headmaster’s garden at Eton.”

Y/N snorted. “You did what?”

“Long story,” he muttered, squeezing the stress ball again. “Involved fireworks and far too much brandy.”

She shook her head, laughing despite herself. “Remind me never to leave you alone with flammable objects.”

Across the room, one of the volunteers called out, “Turn it up! They’re about to announce something!”

Everyone fell silent, their eyes glued to the screen as the anchor shuffled his papers, looking far too pleased with himself. Y/N felt her stomach twist into knots. She glanced at Gwayne, who was sitting on the edge of his seat, knuckles white around the stress ball.

The anchor spoke, his voice calm and measured, “And now, the latest results coming in from Hackney South and Shoreditch…”

Y/N held her breath. This was it. The moment of truth.

Gwayne muttered something under his breath, his eyes wide, and she could feel the tension radiating off him like heat. “Come on, come on,” he whispered.

The anchor continued, “It appears we’re seeing a significant swing tonight. Early numbers suggest that the Liberal Democrat candidate, Gwayne Hightower, is making a strong showing in what was expected to be a closely contested race…”

A cheer went up from the room, and Y/N felt a wave of relief wash over her. But she knew better than to celebrate too early. “Still just early numbers,” she called out over the noise. “We’re not done yet!”

Gwayne turned to her, his face a mix of disbelief and hope. “We might actually pull this off,” he breathed.

She smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Might? Don’t you dare start doubting now. We’ve come too bloody far for that.”

He nodded, swallowing hard, and squeezed the stress ball once more. “Alright, alright. Deep breaths.”

Y/N chuckled. “You look like you’re about to have a heart attack. Maybe lay off the scotch for a bit, yeah?”

He laughed, but it was a nervous sound. “Can’t promise that.”

Another volunteer rushed over, holding a phone up to Y/N. “Call for you,” they said breathlessly. “Someone from the party headquarters.”

Y/N took the phone, pressing it to her ear. “Yeah? What’s the news?”

She listened for a moment, her expression hard to read, and Gwayne felt his heart leap into his throat. “Y/N?” he asked, voice tinged with panic. “What is it?”

She hung up, turning back to him with a grin. “They’re saying it’s looking even better. We’ve got a real chance here, Gwayne.”

He exhaled sharply, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. “God, I hope so.”

Y/N nudged him gently. “You’ve done the work, Gwayne. You’ve talked to people, you’ve listened. Now it’s in their hands.”

He nodded, looking around the room at all the people who had put their faith in him, who had worked tirelessly by his side. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

They both turned back to the TV, watching as the coverage continued, the tension building with every passing second.

GWAYNE HIGHTOWER HAS WON HACKNEY SOUTH AND SHOREDITCH.

The words flashed across the screen, and for a heartbeat, the entire room fell silent. The anchor’s voice echoed in the stillness, confirming the impossible — Gwayne Hightower had won. He was going to Westminster.

And then, the room exploded. Cheers erupted, people jumped from their chairs, and the air filled with the sound of shouting, laughing, and the popping of champagne corks. Y/N felt a wave of exhilaration rush through her as she was engulfed by a sea of hugs and high-fives from the volunteers, their faces lit up with joy and disbelief.

“WE BLOODY DID IT!” someone shouted, and another cheer went up, even louder this time.

Y/N turned to Gwayne, who was standing in the middle of the chaos, his mouth hanging open in shock. He still had the stress ball in one hand, but his grip had slackened, and the glass of scotch dangled precariously in the other. Slowly, a grin spread across his face, growing wider and wider until it seemed to take over his whole expression.

“We won!” he shouted, his voice cracking with emotion. “We actually fucking won!”

Before Y/N could react, Gwayne grabbed her and pulled her into a bear hug, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around. She laughed, breathless, feeling the pure, unfiltered joy radiating from him. “Put me down, you idiot!” she shouted, but she couldn’t stop laughing.

He finally set her down, his eyes bright, his face flushed with excitement. “We did it, Y/N! We actually did it!”

She grinned back at him, her heart pounding with pride. “You bloody well did, Hightower. I told you you could.”

He took a deep breath, looking around at the crowd of volunteers, staffers, and supporters, all of them hugging, toasting, and celebrating like there was no tomorrow. “Right,” he announced, raising his voice above the noise. “This calls for a proper celebration.”

He made his way to the corner of the room, where a large cabinet stood. Y/N watched as he pulled open the doors to reveal a stash of bottles that looked like they’d been imported from some long-forgotten royal cellar. “Alright, who wants a drink?” he called out, holding up a bottle of whisky so rare it probably had its own pedigree.

A cheer went up, and Y/N laughed as Gwayne began pouring glasses of the finest whisky she’d ever seen. “I thought you were saving that for… I don’t know, the King’s visit or something,” she teased, accepting a glass.

He grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Forget the King. This is better.”

The glasses were passed around, and Gwayne raised his own high, a look of pure triumph on his face. “To everyone in this room,” he began, his voice strong, clear, “to every single person who believed in this campaign when no one else did, who knocked on doors, who made phone calls, who put up with my bollocks day in and day out… thank you. This isn’t my victory. It’s our victory. Ours. And I promise you, I’m going to make every single one of you proud.”

Another roar of approval filled the room, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel a lump rise in her throat. She watched Gwayne, standing there with his messy hair, his loosened tie, and that damned expensive whisky in his hand.

“To Gwayne!” she shouted, raising her glass high.

“To Gwayne!” the room echoed back, and they all drank, the whisky burning a warm path down her throat. She felt Gwayne’s arm slide around her shoulders, and she leaned into him, feeling a sense of relief and joy wash over her.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he murmured in her ear, his voice soft, almost lost in the noise of the celebration. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

She turned to look at him, her heart thudding in her chest. “Oh, please,” she replied with a grin. “You did all the hard work. I just yelled at you a lot.”

He laughed, a deep, happy sound, and for a moment, it felt like the world had shrunk to just the two of them, standing in the middle of that chaotic, jubilant room. “Well, keep yelling at me,” he said, his eyes locked on hers. “Because I’ve got a feeling we’re just getting started.”

She smiled, a warm, genuine smile, and clinked her glass against his. “To Westminster,” she said.

“To Westminster,” he echoed.

But then, “Gwayne, it’s your father.”

Gwayne looked down at his phone, the name “Otto Hightower” flashing on the screen like a warning sign. He shot a glance at Y/N, who was still grinning from ear to ear, surrounded by the celebrating team. With a sigh, he swiped to answer the call.

“Father,” he said, raising his voice above the noise of the room, “calling to congratulate me, are you?”

Otto’s voice crackled through the phone, formal and clipped. “Of course, son. It’s a remarkable achievement. The family is very… proud. Your mother insisted we call. We’d like you to drop by the estate at Kew so we can celebrate properly.”

Gwayne’s face flickered with something Y/N couldn’t quite read. He glanced at her, then back at the phone. “Tonight?” he asked, a slight hesitation in his voice.

“Yes, tonight,” Otto replied. “Your sister is already on her way. It’s only right that we toast your success together, as a family. You’ve done well, Gwayne. It’s time to show the world that we stand united.”

Y/N caught his eye, sensing his indecision. She smiled, trying to keep it light. “Go on, Gwayne. They’re your family. Go celebrate with them.”

But Gwayne’s brow furrowed, his grip tightening on his phone. “Yeah, but…” he started, then turned away slightly, lowering his voice. “Look, Father, I appreciate it, really. But I think I might stay here, with my team. With the people who made this happen.”

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line, then a slight huff of breath. “Gwayne,” Otto said, a touch of impatience creeping into his tone, “these are the optics you have to consider now. Come to Kew. Show your face. You’ve won a political seat, but don’t forget your roots. You’re a Hightower. It’s time to act like one.”

Gwayne closed his eyes, his jaw tensing. “I know,” he muttered. “I just… I need to think about it, alright?”

Otto’s voice softened just a fraction. “Just think about what this means for all of us, Gwayne. We’re waiting.”

The call ended with a click, and Gwayne stared at the screen for a moment before slipping the phone into his pocket. He turned to find Y/N watching him, an eyebrow raised.

“So?” she asked, trying to keep her tone casual. “You off to the family estate then? Sounds like a big deal.”

Gwayne frowned, his expression conflicted. “I don’t know, Y/N,” he replied, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, they want me to, but…”

Y/N gave him a playful nudge. “Go on, posh boy. It’s your moment. Go drink champagne in a fancy mansion, eat some ridiculous hors d’oeuvres, bask in the glory of finally being the golden child.”

But Gwayne shook his head, his eyes still fixed on hers. “It’s just… that’s not where I want to be tonight.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean? They’re your family. This is huge for them too.”

He sighed, leaning against the table, his gaze never wavering. “Yeah, but they weren’t the ones who stood by me through this whole bloody mess. They weren’t the ones knocking on doors, calming me down when I thought I was going to blow it, or making sure I didn’t look like a total prat on TV.”

Her grin softened, a bit of warmth creeping into her voice. “Gwayne…”

He took a step closer, his voice dropping low, just for her. “You’re the one I want to celebrate with, Y/N. You’re the one who I owe all of this to.”

She felt her breath hitch, her heart racing in her chest. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, trying to laugh it off, but her voice came out a little too shaky. “You did this, Gwayne. You won.”

Gwayne shook his head, determination in his eyes. “No, we won. Together. And I don’t want to go to some stuffy dinner with my family when I could be here, celebrating with you. With the people who actually matter.”

Y/N’s lips curled into a grin, a teasing light dancing in her eyes. “Alright then, MP,” she replied, leaning back with her arms crossed. “But if we’re going to celebrate, we’re going to do this right.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what does right look like to you?”

“No posh nonsense,” she declared with a smirk. “I’m in the mood for a proper drink. None of this ‘hand-picked by the King’s personal sommelier’ rubbish. We’re going to my favorite pub in Camden.”

Gwayne chuckled, clearly amused. “Camden? Really?”

“Yeah, really,” she shot back, eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’m talking Guinness, maybe some Negronis if we’re feeling fancy. Real drinks, in real glasses, in a place where they don’t care what your last name is or whether you’ve got a seat in Parliament.”

He laughed, already feeling a sense of relief wash over him. “Alright, alright, Camden it is. I’m game.”

She grinned, grabbing his hand and tugging him toward the door. “Come on, MP. Time to show you how the other half celebrates.”

Thirty minutes later, they walked into a well-worn pub in the heart of Camden, the sort of place where the tables were sticky, the music was too loud, and everyone shouted over it anyway. It was packed, warm, and smelled faintly of spilled beer and fried food. Perfect.

Y/N pushed through the crowd, leading the way with the confidence of someone who knew exactly where they were going. “Oi, Derek!” she called to the barman, a burly man with a thick beard and a friendly grin. “Two pints of Guinness, and keep them coming!”

Derek gave her a knowing nod. “Y/N, love! Been a while. You brought a friend?”

Y/N grinned back. “Something like that. This is Gwayne. Gwayne, Derek. Derek, meet Gwayne, our newest MP.”

Derek’s eyebrows shot up. “MP, eh? Well, blimey, look at that! In my pub? Must be a special occasion.” He winked at Y/N. “What’s he doing slumming it here with the likes of us?”

Gwayne laughed, feeling more at ease than he had in weeks. “Trying to remember what real people are like,” he said, and Derek let out a hearty laugh, clapping him on the back.

“Good on you, mate. First round’s on me,” Derek declared, pouring their pints with a flourish.

Y/N grabbed the pints and handed one to Gwayne. “Cheers,” she said, clinking her glass against his.

“Cheers,” he echoed, taking a long, satisfying sip. The Guinness was cold and smooth, and he let out a contented sigh. “God, that’s good. I see why you like this place.”

She smirked, leaning against the bar. “Told you. No frills, just fun. And now, we celebrate properly.”

Gwayne’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Alright, then. Let’s have it. What’s next?”

She grinned. “Next, we toast. To winning. To not being a total prat. And to more nights like this.”

He laughed, raising his pint high. “To more nights like this,” he agreed, his voice filled with a happiness he hadn’t felt in ages.

They drank, they laughed, and they joked, and for once, Gwayne felt like he could actually breathe, like the weight of the election had finally lifted. He didn’t have to be the polished, perfect politician tonight. He could just be… himself.

Y/N leaned in, her voice low over the din of the pub. “See? Isn’t this better than some stuffy dinner with your dad?”

He smiled, his eyes locked on hers. “Much better,” he admitted, “though I think it has more to do with the company than the location.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her grin. “Flattery will get you everywhere, MP.”

“Good,” he replied with a wink, “because I’m just getting started.”

They spent the rest of the night laughing and drinking, sharing stories and toasting to every little victory. By the time they were onto their third round of Negronis — and perhaps more than a little tipsy — Gwayne realized he hadn’t felt this free in years.

As the night wore on, the pub became louder, rowdier, and Gwayne found himself leaning closer to Y/N, his shoulder brushing against hers, her laughter in his ear. He looked at her, really looked at her, and wondered how he’d managed to get so lucky.

“So, Y/N,” he said, his voice low and sincere, “if I’ve got any shot at making it in this crazy world of politics… it’s because of you. You know that, right?”

She smiled, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol, her eyes bright. “I think you’re doing just fine, Gwayne. But I’m glad to have helped knock a bit of sense into you.”

He laughed, reaching out to clink his glass against hers again. “To knocking some sense into me,” he agreed, his voice soft.

She grinned, and as their glasses met with a gentle clink, he felt that same familiar spark — the one that had been simmering between them for weeks. And tonight, with the pub alive around them and her laughter in his ear, he felt like this was exactly where he was meant to be.

▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▌

A few hours later.

Y/N stumbled out of the pub, her head spinning from the pints of Guinness and the Negronis they’d downed. Gwayne was beside her, his arm draped lazily around her shoulder, his laughter echoing in the cool Camden air.

“Alright, MP,” she slurred slightly, flagging down a cab that seemed to materialize from nowhere. “Time to get you back to Belgravia before you pass out on the pavement.”

Gwayne pouted, a tipsy grin spreading across his face. “But I’m not done celebrating,” he protested, swaying slightly.

She chuckled, tugging him towards the cab. “Mate, you’re done. Trust me. Come on, get in.”

She pushed him gently into the backseat and climbed in after him, giving the driver Gwayne’s address. The cabbie nodded, pulling away from the curb.

Gwayne leaned his head back, staring at her with a goofy smile. “You’re a bossy one, aren’t you?” he slurred, his eyes half-lidded.

“Someone’s got to keep your posh arse in line,” she shot back, smirking.

He laughed, the sound warm and careless, like he’d never had a worry in his life. “S’true,” he murmured, leaning his head against the window, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “You’re my rock, Y/N.”

She chuckled, feeling the warmth in her chest that had nothing to do with the alcohol. “Alright, Shakespeare, save it for when you’re sober.”

The cab wound its way through the quiet London streets, the lights blurring past them. Y/N’s head buzzed pleasantly, and she kept sneaking glances at Gwayne, who was still grinning like a fool.

Finally, they pulled up outside his townhouse, and the cabbie turned to look back at them. “Here we are, mate,” he said. “You alright getting out?”

Gwayne blinked, looking around like he’d just woken up. “Yeah, yeah, this is me,” he mumbled, fumbling with the door handle. He managed to push it open, but instead of getting out, he reached for Y/N’s hand, pulling her along with him.

“Oi, what are you doing?” she laughed, stumbling out after him. “You’re home. Get inside and sleep it off.”

He turned to her, his eyes wide and a bit desperate. “Wait, wait,” he said, his words slurring together. “I need you to… to punch in the code for me.”

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. “You’ve forgotten the bloody code to your own house?”

He nodded with all the seriousness of a drunk man trying to seem responsible. “I need your help,” he insisted, tugging at her arm. “Can’t… can’t do it without you.”

Y/N sighed, but she couldn’t help the smile that crept onto her face. “Fine, fine. Come on, let’s get you inside.”

He beamed, still holding onto her arm like she was the only thing keeping him upright. “Knew I could count on you,” he said, leading her up the steps to the front door.

She punched in the code he mumbled under his breath, shaking her head in amusement. “Honestly, Gwayne, you’re hopeless.”

The door clicked open, and she nudged him inside, making sure he didn’t trip over the threshold. “Alright, you’re in,” she said, hands on her hips. “Now go upstairs and sleep, before you do something stupid.”

But he didn’t let go of her arm. Instead, he turned to face her, his expression suddenly serious, almost vulnerable. “Stay,” he murmured, his voice low and soft. “Just… for a bit. I don’t wanna be alone.”

Y/N’s heart did a weird little flip, and she swallowed, trying to keep her voice steady. “Gwayne, you’re pissed. You need to sleep it off.”

He shook his head, his grip on her arm tightening just a little. “Please,” he whispered, his eyes searching hers. “Just… just for a minute. I don’t want this night to end.”

She hesitated. “Gwayne, I…”

But his eyes were so earnest, so genuinely pleading, that she found herself nodding, unable to resist. “Alright,” she sighed, trying to sound annoyed but failing. “Just for a minute.”

He smiled, that boyish grin that made her insides twist, and he led her inside, closing the door behind them. The grand entrance hall was dimly lit, the soft glow of antique lamps casting shadows on the walls.

They stood there for a moment, just looking at each other, and she could feel her heart racing in her chest. “Okay, you’re in,” she repeated, a bit breathless now. “Now what?”

He stepped closer, his hand still on her arm, his voice barely a whisper. “Thank you,” he murmured, his breath warm against her skin. “For everything. For… believing in me.”

Y/N felt her cheeks flush, and she looked away, suddenly feeling very sober. “Yeah, well,” she muttered, “someone had to.”

He laughed softly, his thumb brushing against her arm. “I think… I think it had to be you.”

She met his gaze again, and for a second, she forgot where they were, forgot everything but the way he was looking at her, like she was the only thing that mattered.

“Gwayne,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Stay,” he repeated, his eyes dark, serious.

Y/N sighed then she left Gwayne sprawled out on the leather couch, one arm dangling off the side, his head leaning back with that drunken, lopsided grin still on his face.

“Yeah, sure,” she muttered to herself, looking around his ridiculously posh townhouse. “Just for a bit, and somehow I’m now in charge of making sure you don’t choke on your own tongue tonight.”

She glanced at him one more time. “Stay put, alright? I’m getting you some water.”

Gwayne gave a lazy thumbs-up, eyes half-closed. “Water… perfect idea. You’re brilliant, Y/N. Absolutely… magnificent,” he mumbled, slurring his words, his grin widening as if he’d just had the most profound thought.

She shook her head, smirking. “You’ll thank me in the morning, trust me.”

Y/N made her way toward the kitchen, weaving slightly as the room swayed around her. She was definitely feeling the effects of those Negronis. “Right,” she muttered under her breath, “just need to get some water. How hard can it be?”

She turned the corner and entered what could only be described as a space-age kitchen — all sleek chrome and glossy surfaces, like it had been designed by some avant-garde architect who’d clearly never boiled an egg in his life. She blinked at the sight of a state-of-the-art water system built into the counter, with more buttons and screens than the bloody cockpit of a plane.

“What the hell is this?” she muttered, frowning at the contraption. “It’s a water tap, not the bloody TARDIS.”

She poked at one of the buttons, and the display lit up with a series of choices: Still. Sparkling. Ice Cold. Room Temperature. Mineral Infused. pH Balanced. Alkaline. There was even an option for Artisanal Mountain Spring, which she was pretty sure was taking the piss.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she groaned, rubbing her temples. “Why does he need this much choice for a glass of water?”

She jabbed at the Still button, but nothing happened. She tried Room Temperature. Still nothing. The machine made a faint, mocking beeping sound that she swore was laughing at her. “Come on, you fancy piece of crap,” she growled, slapping the side of it. “Give me some bloody water!”

She pressed another button, and a small panel opened up, revealing even more buttons. “Are you kidding me?” she muttered, leaning closer, trying to make sense of the digital display that was now flashing at her like she’d accidentally triggered the launch codes for a nuclear missile.

“Alright, let’s try this…” she muttered, tapping another button labeled Dispense.

The machine hummed for a moment, then spat out a single drop of water. A single, mocking drop.

“You have got to be joking,” Y/N muttered, staring at the droplet like it had personally insulted her. “Come on, work, damn you!”

She tried again, this time holding the button down longer, and finally, a stream of water began to flow — freezing cold and spraying out far too fast, splashing over the side of the glass and onto her shirt.

“Bloody hell!” she yelped, jumping back and nearly slipping on the pristine marble floor. “Why is it so complicated to get a drink in this bloody house?”

Gwayne’s voice floated in from the living room, a lazy, amused drawl. “Y’alright in there, Y/N?”

She shot a glare in his direction, even though he couldn’t see it. “Yeah, fine!” she called back, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Just wrestling with your bloody spaceship tap!”

She finally managed to fill the glass without any more incidents and turned off the tap, which thankfully didn’t require any further button-pressing. Taking a deep breath, she made her way back to the living room, where Gwayne was now lying sideways on the couch, humming some Beatles tune to himself.

“Here,” she said, thrusting the glass into his hand. “Drink. You need water, or you’re going to wake up tomorrow feeling like a truck hit you. And I’m not in the mood to deal with your whining.”

He blinked up at her, his eyes glassy but grateful. “Thanks, Y/N,” he murmured, taking a sip. “You’re… amazing. Like, really. You know that?”

She rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, yeah. Drink up.”

He chuckled softly, downing the water like he hadn’t had a drink in days. “Seriously, though,” he continued, setting the glass on the coffee table, “don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She felt a flutter in her chest, but she kept her tone light. “Probably end up dehydrated on your fancy couch, for starters.”

He grinned, his eyelids drooping as the alcohol started to catch up with him. “Maybe. Or maybe I’d just… still be lost.”

Y/N’s breath hitched for a second, but she brushed it off with a chuckle. “Alright, enough with the confessions. Time for you to sleep.”

He nodded, his head lolling to the side. “Yeah… sleep sounds good,” he murmured, eyes fluttering shut.

Y/N watched him for a moment, making sure he was actually dozing off and not about to get up and start another drunken adventure. “Goodnight, Gwayne,” she whispered, almost too softly to hear.

He mumbled something in his sleep, a smile still on his lips, and Y/N turned to leave, shaking her head. She’d gotten him home, hydrated, and onto his couch. Mission accomplished for now.

#gwayne hightower #ser gwayne hightower #ser gwayne #gwayne fanfic #hotd gwayne #gwayne x reader #gwayne x you #gwayne hightower x reader #gwayne hightower modern au #hotd modern au #freddie fox #freddie fox x reader

191 notes · View notes

wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 1 year ago

Text

I Miss You, I’m Sorry || Tom Blyth x Singer!Reader

Summary: In which after your break up with Tom, you write a song about him and fans start to speculate that it is about the two of you.

Warning: swearing, kinda toxic Tom?

Wc: 1,123

A/n: someone asked if I would do a Sabrina Carpenter x Tom fic but I thought I’d do it with Gracie Abrams instead bc I absolutely love her <3 (I don’t mention Gracie, it’s still an x reader)

Tom Blyth x singer!reader au masterlist

Divider by @pommecita

Do you remember happy together? I do, don't you?

You squeal in excitement. You had just dropped your first ever album. “I’m so proud of you, my darling,” Tom hugs you tightly as he kisses your hair. “Thank you,” You says against his ear.

That night, the two of you stayed home, ordered pizza and drank wine in each other’s arms. Tom was so incredibly proud of you, he knew the hardships you faced that year when composing the songs and everything else that was going on in life.

You felt so blessed to have had Tom by your side during the particularly rough year. “I love you,” You whisper, your breathe fanning Tom’s neck as he pulls you closer to him. “I love you more,” He whispered back as you smiled.

Then all of a sudden, you're sick to your stomach, Is that still true?

Tom felt sick in the stomach knowing what he had done. It was a simple drunken mistake that he could never forgive himself. He cheated on you. He could never forget how he absolutely shattered your pure heart, all because of his drunken actions.

You said, "Forever, " in the end I fought it, Please be honest, are we better for it?

“I will forever love you, y/n.” He says against your lips before kissing you. You melt into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as you bring him closer to you.

“You said you’d love me forever Tom- I-I don’t understand why’d you would do this-“ You furrow your eyebrows as tears had blurred up your vision. “I’m so sorry y/n, please-“ He tries to say as his hand touches your arm but you pull away from him, too hurt, too broken.

Thought you'd hate me, but instead you called and said, "I miss you", I caught it

You pick at your fingernails as your leg bounces up and down. You were sat at your desk, alone in the house. It had been a month since you broke up with Tom. And you couldn’t help but think about him every single day.

He was your everything. You couldn’t just get him out of your head that quickly. You flinch at the sound of your phone going off, buzzing on the table as you turn your phone over revealing his name on the caller id.

You stare at it for a few seconds, contemplating. “Hello?” Your voice was quiet as you hear a silence on the other end. “Tom? Are you there-“ “I miss you,” You hear him say, his voice just as shaky as yours; you bite your trembling lip, trying so hard to hold back the tears that were threatening to come out.

Good to each other, give it the summer, I knew you too

Little did you know that that summer was going to be your last one spent with Tom. He hadn’t told you that he had cheated on you yet, but you felt a shift.

You felt a change that you tried to ignore the best you could until you couldn’t handle it anymore.

But I only saw you once in December. I'm still confused.

You saw him once in December. That was all. You didn’t know why he was ignoring you and being so distant.

You said, "Forever, " and I almost bought it. I miss fightin' in your old apartment

“Forever.” What a fucking lie. “Why are you being so fucking distant towards me!” You yell, walking into his apartment as he slams the door behind him. “I’m not! I’ve been busy with my own fucking life y/n” He screams back as you both stare at each other.

“You could still try and make an effort Tom! I’m your girlfriend!” You storm up to him, finger pointing at him as he shoves your hand away from him, walking away without saying a word. “Don’t walk away from me-“ You shout as you follow him upstairs, “I don’t want to talk right now,” He seethes, slamming his bedroom door on your face.

You stand there as you scoff. You lift your hand up to knock but figured it would be no use, so, you walked back downstairs, grabbed your things and left.

Breakin' dishes when you're disappointed, I still love you, I promise

“Why-Why couldn’t you just tell me y/n,” He pulls at his hairs as you sat on the couch, knees to your chin as you look down on the ground. “I didn’t know how to,” You say quietly, not sure if he heard you.

“Y/n,” He sternly says as you look meet his angry eyes, “I said, I didn’t know how to tell you-“ smash. You flinch, gasping at the noise of mug smashing into little bits. Tears started flowing down your cheeks as you bury your head in your arms, sobbing.

Tom breathes heavily as he realises what he’s done. “Fuck,” He walks to you on the couch, his hand softly touching your hair as he listens to you sob. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry y/n,” He whispers he sits beside you, placing a gentle kiss on your arm.

“Please forgive me, darling,” He cooed. His anger got the better of him. You look at him, teary eyed. He wore an apologetic look on his face as you cry even harder, sitting on his lap as he hugs you tight, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

Nothin' happened in the way I wanted. Every corner of this house is haunted

You stand in the living room of your house. Eyes puffy from crying, and a bag in hand with your things that you collected from Tom’s place. Looking around the place gave you flashbacks of you and Tom.

You got this house soon after you started dating Tom nearly 4 years ago now. There were so many memories made here and you couldn’t stop thinking about them.

And I know you said that we're not talkin', But I miss you, I'm sorry

You felt somewhat guilty for missing him. After all, he was the one who cheated on you. Tom told you it would be better to go our seperate ways and limit interactions with each other as much as possible.

It still hurt. Waking up and knowing your relationship with Tom ended. The one person you could confide to was no longer there for you. The one person who knew how to cheer you up after a rough day wasn’t by your side anymore.

The one person who would travel with you around the world for concerts, and if he couldn’t, he would make sure to face time you every day no matter how early or late it was for him.

869 notes · View notes

vbecker10 · 2 months ago

Text

Easily Distracted (Part 2)

Part 1 / (Part 3 in progress)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x female reader (Y/N) - reader has ADHD

Summary: You've recently graduated from the SHIELD Training Academy and you couldn't be more excited or more nervous to start working as a probationary agent. You study and train, trying every way possible to prepare yourself for your evaluation in three months but your ADHD threatens to derail your progress, and so does Loki. Captain Rogers sees you struggling to succeed and steps in to help you in any way he can.

Background: Female reader has ADHD (Attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder) with the following symptoms: inattention, hyperactivity, difficulty listening and finishing tasks, losing important things frequently, becoming distracted or sidetracked easily, trouble following instructions, difficulty staying organized and managing time

There is a knock on your door and you laugh as you get up, "Either the pizza guy is getting a big tip or-"

Your voice cuts off when you open the door and see Steve Rogers standing in the hall of your apartment building. "Hello Y/N," he says, his smile is warm and friendly but it does little to calm the nerves that suddenly spread through you.

You panic and without thinking, step back into your apartment and close the door abruptly in his face. You can hear his surprised laughter through the door as you press your back to it and your mind races. Captain America is at my apartment! Why is he here? How does he even know where I live? Am I in trouble for quitting? Agent Hill said I could drop off my ID badge and tablet by the end of the week, maybe they decided I'm too forgetful and sent him to pick them up? Oh my God... I'm wearing my freaking pajamas in the middle of the day! I must look like an unemployed loser! You look down at the shorts you've had since college and a loose fitting, slightly bleach stained t-shirt, cringing with embarrassment.

He knocks again and you respond, "Yeah, just a minute."

You run into your bedroom and throw on a pair of jeans but when you go to grab a shirt from the closet, your focus shifts. Without realizing it, you begin to pick up the few pieces of dirty clothing that missed the hamper last night and place them inside it. You know there's no reason why Steve would come into your room but you find yourself needing to finish the task now that you started it. When grab your hoodie from the back of your desk chair, you see a single sneaker on the floor by your dresser. Turning in a small circle, you sigh deeply when you can't find the other one. "Where did you go?" you mumble as you wander into the living room searching for the missing shoe while holding its partner.

Steve knocks again, this time a bit louder to remind you that he is in fact still standing in the hall outside of your apartment.

"Shit," you swear under your breath as you turn back into your room. You toss the single shoe back where you found it and put on the first shirt you grab when you reach into the closet. Pulling you bedroom door shut, you head back to the living room.

You pause briefly to tidy up the coffee table, brushing off any crumbs onto the floor and grabbing your empty coffee mug. Once in the kitchen, you open the dishwasher and groan when you remember it's full of clean dishes you have yet to put away. Steve knocks again and you nearly drop the mug in the sink in your rush to answer the door.

"Hi," he says, a smile still on his face when you pull the door open. You force a smile in return, trying to hide how frantic you feel. He puts his foot just inside the threshold to your apartment, "Just in case you try to slam the door on me again."

You laugh nervously and play with the hair tie on your wrist, spinning it and snapping it against your skin. "Sorry about that," you say without offering an excuse for your behavior.

"Can I come in now?" he asks, his mood still unaffected by your anxiousness.

You notice he's holding your pizza and shrug as you joke, "Sure, since you brought lunch."

He laughs but it does little to hide his embarrassment, "Yeah, the delivery guy was pretty determined to get a selfie with me."

"Is that why you were knocking so loudly?" you giggle at his sudden awkwardness.

He closes the door behind him, nodding, "A little bit, yes."

You realize you owe him for the pizza and grab your wallet from your bag. Pulling out a twenty you ask, "How much does Captain America tip?"

"Don't worry about it," he reassures you, waving your money away with one hand as he puts the food on your coffee table. "I'll send in a expense report, this is a working lunch," he says and you stare at him, unsure if he's joking or not.

"So... you're here on official SHIELD business then?" you ask when he takes a seat on your couch, flipping open the lid to the pizza box.

"I'm here to find out why you quit," he answers as he looks up at you.

"Cause I was going to fail out," you sigh and sit heavily next to him.

"It's only been a week," he takes out a slice from the box.

"Oh, we need plates," you get up, ignoring his comment and heading into the kitchen. You open the cabinet, grab two plates and a few pieces of paper towel since you forgot to buy napkins for the second week in a row. You place the items you gathered on your counter and open the fridge to get drinks then go back into the living room.

Steve tilts his head when he looks at the can of soda in his hand. "What?" you ask, trying to figure out what you did wrong. "Sorry, I have water too if you want," you point towards your kitchen.

"You went in for plates," he reminds you.

"Shit," you get up again to retrieve them from the counter with the paper towels. "Sorry," you apologize for what feels like the hundredth time since he arrived at your apartment.

"It's fine," he smiles. He opens his soda, takes a few sips then returns to your previous conversation. "Now, why did you quit?"

"I told you, I was failing," you shrug, looking down to avoid making eye contact with the super soldier.

"You were struggling, that's not the same thing," Steve clarifies.

"I guess it's not but Loki-" you start to explain but he cuts you off.

"What did Laufeyson do?" his mood shifts, even the slightest hint of a smile gone from his face.

"Nothing, he just told me the truth," you fidget with the tab on your soda can until you pop it off and toss it on the table.

"Tell me exactly what he said," Steve puts his plate down on the table and wait for you to begin.

------------------------------------------------

"You will not succeed here," Loki interrupts you and your mouth hangs open at his harsh statement. "I have seen how easily distracted you are, how confused you get with even basic instructions. You are late to everything, you still wander this building utterly lost and you cannot focus."

"I can do better," you tell him, your voice shaky as he lists all the flaws you've been trying to manage. "I made it through the academy, I can do this," you say, trying to convince yourself and the God of Mischief.

"I don't believe that is true," he shakes his head and before you can argue back he continues. "Is the jet simply supposed to wait to take off for a mission while you wander aimlessly through the Tower looking for the correct floor? How many times should your commanding officer be expected to explain your orders because a noise distracted you during a briefing? Will you be as careless turning in your paperwork and mission reports as you are with your research assignments? What's to say you will not lose classified documents as easily as you misplace your ID badge or cell phone?"

You pull at the hair tie around your wrist, twisting it anxiously as Loki asks question after question you can't answer.

He moves away from the desk, taking a step forward to close the small distance between you. You glance over his shoulder towards the closed door then back into his cold eyes. "You are going to be the reason missions fail and agents get hurt or killed," he states, no hint of doubt in his voice. "You should not be here and you know it."

------------------------------------------------

"Laufeyson said that to you?" Steve asks when you finish.

You nod, remembering every word in detail. The conversation had replayed over and over in your mind all night, keeping you awake.

His jaw tightens as if he's trying to keep from saying whatever he's thinking. After a moment of silence between you, he sighs deeply, "He shouldn't have spoken to you like that. If he had a concern or issue with your performance, he should have come to me and I would have discussed it with you at your review next week."

"Another week wouldn't have made a difference," you shrug. "And now you don't have to be the bad guy who fired me." Steve opens his mouth to say something but you shake your head and keep talking, "I barely made it through the academy because of my stupid ADHD. Loki is right. I'm not sure why I thought the probationary period would be any easier to handle." You groan and put your face in your hands.

He furrows his brow and asks, "What's ADHD?" Then he quickly adds, "You don't need to tell me if it's too personal."

"No, I-" you pause, a bit stunned by his question. "Sorry, I just don't think I've ever met anyone who didn't know what that was."

"You apologize a lot," Steve notes then shifts his focus back to his nearly forgotten pizza.

"Sorry-" you cringe and he smiles, shaking his head a bit. "Force of habit I guess," you shrug and pick up your plate but you're not interested in eating. Apologizing was something you did frequently as your ADHD often left you feeling as if you did something wrong or forgot something important.

"I don't think I've ever talked to someone who hasn't heard of it but I guess since you're from a really, really, really long time ago maybe it wasn't a big thing then," you bite your lip, trying to think if you've ever had to explain it to anyone before.

"Two reallys was enough, thanks," he laughs.

"Right, sorry," you apologize without thinking. Steve lets out another short laugh, his hand resting momentarily on your knee which causes you to look away quickly in an effort to hide the blush that creeps across your cheeks. He needs to stop being cute and nice and ridiculously good looking because I am having a hard enough time trying not to have a crush on him as it is, you think.

"You were saying..." he motions for you to continue and you nod.

"Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, ADHD," you clarify the acronym for him and he nods.

"It sounds familiar but I'm afraid I don't know much about it," Steve admits.

"Most people think it's just being easily bored or when you distracted by something shiny but there are a lot stereotypes about it. People even claim they have it as a joke or because they don't know how serious it can be and honestly that gets really annoying," you tell him.

"How does it affect your training?" he asks.

You fidget with the hair tie around your wrist again, your eyes focusing on the floor by your feet. "In my case it causes hyperactivity which makes it hard to sit still or listen to someone for long periods of time. It also makes me forgetful. That's why I still get lost getting around the Tower and I always seem to have misplaced or lost something. You've seen how easily I get distracted or sidetracked doing even simply tasks." You point vaguely towards the kitchen to remind him of the plate situation but don't look up to see that he nods. "I'm late so often because I have issues managing my time, I set alarms but it doesn't always help. It's a daily struggle to keep myself organized at home and at work with all the assignments and training courses."

Steve sits quietly and when you finish you lift your head, anxiously waiting for him to agree with Loki's assessment of you.

"You have to deal with all of that and still passed the academy?" he asks and you nod. "That's really impressive."

"Impressive?" you can't help the confused expression that spreads across your face.

"The academy is designed to be difficult physically, mentally and academically," he starts to explain. "That fact that you succeeded with the grades you received while dealing with all of these issues, yeah I would say that was impressive."

"You know what grades I got?" you ask in surprise.

He smiles, "Who do you think reads all of the applications?"

"Right..." you nod, feeling dumb for forgetting that's literally part of his job.

"Y/N, do you want to be a SHIELD agent?" he asks.

You nod quickly, "More than anything. It's all I wanted to do since high school."

"Then you can't quit," Steve says gently. "I know it will be difficult but I am willing to help you any way I can. I want you to succeed here."

"But what about Loki?" you can't help but remember the look in his eyes when he told you that you would cause missions to fail.

"He doesn't know as much as he thinks he does," Steve says. "Besides, don't you want to see the look on his face when you prove him wrong?"

You laugh, "Yeah."

"Then it's settled," he stands up and you get up as well. He walks towards your door and you follow him closely.

"Well not really," you tell him. "I did quit, I sent in all the paperwork."

"I asked Agent Hill not to process it until I spoke to you," he smiles. "As far as anyone knows, you're taking a sick day."

"Really?" you ask, unable to hide your excitement.

He nods, "You better be on time tomorrow."

"I will be, I promise," you smile and hug him tightly but when his arms don't hold you back you let go quickly. With an awkward laugh you say, "That was totally inappropriate right?"

He laughs and shakes his head as he opens the door to your apartment, "I'll see you bright and early Y/N."

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

@soubi001 @mochie85 @animnerd @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @animnerd @cabingrlandrandomcrap @lulubelle814 @goblingirlsarah @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @jiyascepter @eleniblue @muddyorbsblr @alyeskathewave @loz-3 @firedrakegirl @km-ffluv @biodegradable-glitter-fest @wolfsmom1 @hopefuldreamers-world @sabspoetic @anukulee @latriacy @trojanaurora @babygirl-panda19 @catsladen @stargazer-luna @gruftiela @bolontiku @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @crimson25 @lokiandbuckysdoll

147 notes · View notes

marlenesluv · 1 year ago

Text

break. (LN)

summary: lando is on break with his girlfriend, but he can’t seem to stop training.

warnings: angst, some small fighting, one cuss word, suggestive at the end but no actual smut.

type: blurb

masterlist here -> masterlist link

^ check my list for all posts! ^

summer break for formula one drivers were generally filled with excitement, beaches, yachts, and alcohol. getting tanned by a crystal clear pool while reading a book. sure, that sounded nice, but your boyfriend had different ideas for his break.

no, not mountain climbing, or visiting family, not even sleeping in. lando was determined to train all day, every day, leaving you with no boyfriend for days at a time.

you would go to sleep with his side of the bed empty, maybe waking up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, one of the few times you got to see him. when you awoke, his spot was cold, probably up for hours now. no doubt running, or lifting weights, possibly using the simulator.

trying to get lando to stop was futile. he was stubborn and eager to win after break. and of course, you wanted him to win as well. not that it mattered as much to you as it did him, but you loved how happy he got when he won.

his face red, but smiling down at you from the podium while he sprays you with the champagne. for days he would be happy, until the next race. he would say that now he needs to win the next one. you didn’t care if he won, as long as he was safe and came home to you.

and now that he was home, you saw him less, it seemed. you had texted kika in hopes of getting her ideas. she, of course, being the sweetheart she is, invited you and lando to go to italy with them for a month. when you asked lando, he simply said, “no, can’t afford that distraction.” kika frowned on the phone, understanding fully how stubborn these drivers got.

so that brought you here, watching yet another old emma chamberlain video while drinking your dr.pepper. it was comforting, but what would be more comforting was if your boyfriend would come spend some time with you.

you paused the video, letting the frame freeze as emma was driving in the car, and you got up to find lando.

when you walked into his gaming room, you saw him on the simulator, exactly where he was hours ago.

“lando?” all you received was a small ‘hm?’

you stood at the door, your heart dropping a bit as he was too focused on his track.

“are you hungry, love? we can order some pizza and watch a movie.” you looked at him as you spoke and as he paused his track.

“i’m really not all that hungry, you can order some though, maybe i’ll have some later when i have time.” he sniffed, drinking some of his water and grabbing another from his mini fridge by his desk.

that was the issue. you could order pizza alone. watch a movie alone. go to sleep alone. how many more things were you expected to do alone?

“right, okay. have fun, lando.” you spoke, sarcasm dripping from your voice as you slammed the door before he even got a chance to open his mouth. of course he knew he wasn’t spending as much time with you, but he didn’t know really how long it had been since he had given you a kiss, a hug, hell, even had sex with you.

you did though. one week ago you got a walk-by kiss on the cheek, a hug about two weeks ago, and sex was a month ago. a whole month and he didn’t seem to notice.

you quickly slipped your shoes on, grabbed your purse and keys by the door, and left. lando wasn’t far behind, opening the door as your car pulled out and down the street.

“fuck…” lando muttered as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. he suddenly realized that it was eight thirty at night, dark out and he hadn’t spoken to you once that day. hell, when was the last time he spoke to you, he thought, running his hand through his hair has he grabbed his keys for the other car.

you however, at this point, were in the mcdonalds drive through and paying by the time he had drove to your spot, exactly where you drove next, not knowing he had left the house.

your spot was this beautiful cliff, overlooking the city. it had one swing to sit on and a little table near it for drinks.

once you arrived, bag and drink in hands, you walked over to your swing, only to find it moving. as you neared closer, you saw curly brown hair. you sighed, letting your shoulder drop.

seeing lando was much better than some weird stranger, but you weren’t in the mood to talk.

like he had heard your inner thoughts, lando patted the swing beside him, “we don’t need to talk, we can just sit, if you’d like.” he peered up at you as you bit your bottom lip, something he always intervened when he could. he’d pull your lip out with his thumb and would tell you to stop, how it drove him crazy.

you nodded and sat, an hour had gone by as you both just sat and listened to the sounds of nature surrounding you. the food was finished a while ago, of course you bought food for lando, you were upset, but you always wanted to help him. you figured you would take it home, to his gaming room, no words spoken, as you went to bed.

but here you were: comfortable silence and slight swings with the night breeze.

“why did you come out here?” you asked, turning to look at lando, seeing his eyes look sadder than usual.

“i’m so sorry. i didn’t realize how much i have been absent, i-“ you cut him off.

“you didn’t realize, lando? seriously? your day consists of running, protein shake, workout, simulator, shake, more running, a shower, and sleeping just to wake up at five in the morning. but you didn’t realize? don’t fucking pull that.” you shook your head releasing a mix of a laugh and scoff.

“i know. i know i’ve been the worst boyfriend this past month, and i’m sorry, and before you say anything, i know sorry doesn’t fix it. but please just give me a chance to fix this summer break?” he questioned, voice trembling.

“are you gonna cry, lan?” you asked, voice softer as you furrowed your brows.

“wha-what? no. no of course not. i just-“ he sniffed, rubbing his nose as your eyes welled up. you understood how stressed he was. he shouldn’t be ignoring you, but this is his job. you could try to make sense of it, but you would just get a headache.

“lando, don’t be dramatic. i’m not going to break up with you. i was going to ignore you but…” you trailed off, smiling as he laughed, making you laugh a bit.

“i was thinking, maybe we could go to spain? carlos has his whole house free, besides himself, daniel, and his cousin.” he asked, looking hopeful.

“mm, that’s a nice offer.” his heart dropped, thinking that was a ‘no.’

“i’d love to go, lando. but no excessive training, or i will seriously never sleep with you again.” you teased as he gasped.

“we must fix this, come on, we are going home. i’m going to show you just how much you mean to me.” he got up, holding his hand out as you took it and walked to your cars.

the last thing you heard before lando got in his car, was, “race you home! last one there doesn’t get to cum tonight.”

which, unfortunately, didn’t click for a few seconds, making you jump in your car. and unfortunately again, you got him last, of course.

_______________________________________________

(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)

#formula 1 #f1 #formula one #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fluff #lando norris angst #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x oc #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fic #lando norris blurb #lando norris

833 notes · View notes

aceistheplace86 · 2 months ago

Text

Ephemeral

///Good job @nyx-stars and anyone else who cracked the code!

You were waiting patiently at the Greasy Diner, wearing your favorite formal outfit. You had originally come into the diner in awe of the setup, there were fairy lights hung on the ceiling, and a table had a tablecloth with a single red rose and a candle.

You knew Ford had gotten Lazy Susan to keep open the diner for your guy's special date night. But now, as you sit and wait alone, the awe you once felt had faded. Ford was almost an hour late.

“Hiya Hun,” Susan said coming up sadly “I-I have to close up soon”

You didn’t make eye contact with her; you couldn’t bear to see the pitiful look she was surely giving you. “That’s Okay Susan” You blew out the candle and handed her the rose “Thank you for letting me stay.”

She smiled sadly and took the rose, handing you a container “Pie. For you”

You started your drive back to the Shack; you were so angry and confused. Ford knew how important tonight was, he had to have known because it was important to him too. Wasn’t it?

You got to the Shack, walked in, and slammed the door shut, which startled Stan who had gotten himself comfortable in his armchair.

“What are you doing back?” he asked confused then stopped “Wait, I never saw Sixer leave.”

“That’s because he never showed up” you scoffed.

“What?!” He stood up “You know how long it took me to set that stuff up? And what it took to convince Lazy Susan to stay open late” He paused “It didn’t take much convincin’ but still!”

“He didn’t even decorate it?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, causing Stan’s face to fall.

“It was his idea y’know. I was just the one who set it up. He said he wanted to get ready” He explained, “Do you want me to go yell at him or somethin’?”

You shook your head “I got this.” You made your way to the lab and were soon met with Ford, who was hunched over a desk, mumbling to himself.

“Ford.” The sound of your voice seemed to startle him because he whirled around.

“Oh, Hello my darling!” he said cheerily “What are you doing down here?”

“You missed our dinner.” You ignored the flutter in your chest at that nickname.

“I probably didn’t miss much; Stan was talking about ordering pizza” He chuckled turning back to his work

“Our dinner. Ford.” You repeat.

He paused and turned to look at you “Our dinner to celebrate…” He trails off “Oh my love, I am sorry. I was just about to get ready when I realized something. Do you remember my Multiverse Echo Theory? Every event that occurs in Gravity Falls creates a ripple in the fabric of reality, leading to the formation of alternate dimensions.” He recalls excitedly “I believe that if I can find a way to tune into these echoes, I could access knowledge or maybe even resources from other dimensions that could help uncover the mysteries of this town! I have been working on a device that can track and measure these dimensional fluctuations” He paused and glanced back at his notes “However, one could argue about the ethical implications of meddling with the multiverse”

Just like that, you had lost him again to his work. He was no longer paying attention to you. “Ford you missed our dinner” You repeated.

“Yes, I apologize for that dear,” he says not looking at you, but writing down in his journal. “We could reschedule for tomorrow.”

“That is not the point Stanford!” You were tired, having little to no fight left in you anymore. Not for another conversation where you had to beg him to give you even the tiniest bit of attention even for a moment. The only reason you hadn’t given up was because there had been times when it felt like Ford was improving, that you didn’t have to fight for his attention.

He taught you some of his favorite meals to cook. He drove an hour out of town to take you to a bookstore. He wrote you poems. He was there when you woke up in the morning. That was probably your favorite part. Rolling over to be met with his warm body instead of the cold, empty side of the bed. It hurt to know he would rather go straight to the lab in the morning, that was if he had even come to your shared room in the first place.

“I don’t understand,” He says “You want a dinner, I will make plans for us to have dinner tomorrow. But for now, would you like to help me?” he waved over to his notes “Stanley made Dipper go to bed”

“You aren’t listening to me, Stanford!” You cried out “There are other things that can give your life meaning. More important things than… than this!” You said gesturing to the lab.

“What?” Ford replied shortly “Like you?”

You stood frozen. Is that really what he thought about your relationship? About you? “I think you should apologize”

“And I think you should leave” His back was towards you.

“Fine” You whispered, “I can’t watch you do this to yourself anymore Ford.”

“Like it’s so difficult for you?” He muttered.

“Yes! It breaks my heart to see you this way! You spent your childhood chasing after a place where you could fit in, somewhere where you would find love. You completely ignored your brother who was there for you” You started “And now you are starting to completely ignore me, I thought you would change once we got you back with the portal. I thought you would be different” Before Ford had gotten sucked into the portal, your relationship was a bit rocky, but you chalked it up to the fight he had with his brother, but he only continued to ice you out. It was good for the first few months when he came back, but now he started to isolate himself again.

You had dedicated your life to helping Ford feel like he belonged, and you stuck by Stanley as he tried to bring back his brother. “I gave up everything for you Stanford!”

“I never asked you to”

“You did when you said you loved me”

He stared at you for a long while before he turned away and went back to his desk.

You felt defeated. You looked down at your hand and slipped off the ring. “Goodbye Stanford” You set the ring on top of his journal and walked out. You didn’t even bother packing a bag, you just got in your car and drove off.

Pt 2. Here

#gravity falls #gravity falls fandom #stanford pines #gravity falls fanfiction #ford pines x you #ford pines x reader #dating ford pines #grunkle stan #stanley pines #gravity falls stanley #mabel pines #dipper pines #gravity falls stanford #journal 3 #ford pines #stan pines

121 notes · View notes

brattyfork · 11 months ago

Text

don’t you dare

summary: you were a little shit all day, chris gets fed up.

warnings: brat!reader, dom!chris, bdsm type relationship kinda, face fucking, kinda intense but not super crazy

“go put on real clothes before matt and nick get home”

chris was doing the dishes from breakfast, i was sitting on the couch in just one of his tshirts and my panties, since it was just the two of us home at the moment.

“no” i spat back quickly, not taking my eyes off my phone.

“no?” he seemed genuinely shocked by my response.

“you heard me”

“go get dressed, now”

“but i’m comfyyyyy” i whined.

“i won’t tell you again. go” he pointed toward the stairs.

i threw my phone down on the couch before getting up and stomping downstairs. when i got to our room i slammed the door, a little harder than i meant to but whatever, it served its purpose.

i looked for something to wear and decided on some short athletic shorts and a tight crop top. i chose to wear a bra so i wouldn’t get actually murdered.

i walked back upstairs and made my way over to the couch. chris looked up at me when he heard me approaching. i met his eyes briefly before he looked away, huffing and shaking his head.

❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎

“baby can you bring me a pepsi?”

i had gotten up to go to the bathroom and after i walked out i heard chris call out.

“sure” i said back, loud enough for him to hear me.

i walked into the kitchen and grabbed a can from the fridge, also grabbing myself a water. i left the pepsi on the counter, and walked back to the couch.

i could feel chris’ eyes on me as i sat down, placing my water on the coffee table and taking out my phone. i turned to look at him.

“what?” my attitude definitely came out in my voice, i could tell when his gaze changed.

“pepsi?” he asked, trying to be patient in case i actually did forget.

“oh yeah, i forgot” i quickly went back to my phone but i could still feel him staring at me. he finally turned away, lifting himself off the couch with a huff.

❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎

chris was sat at his pc while i laid on our bed. he needed to do some boring work thing, meaning i was getting no attention. i sighed as loud and as dramatically as i could, determined to get his attention but he didn’t even flinch.

“chris” i said, very monotone and at my regular volume. he either didn’t hear me or he was ignoring me.

“chrisss” i whined, a bit louder this time.

“hm?” he mumbled without turning his head.

“i’m bored” he didn’t respond. i got up from the bed and walked to his desk, leaning over his shoulder and licking a stripe up his neck to his ear. he stayed silent.

“did you hear me?”

“yes baby, i heard you. i promise i will give you attention as soon as i’m done.” he said, finally facing me.

“but i need attention nowww”

“the sooner i get this done, the sooner i can give you attention. now go sit back down and be quiet”

“whatever” i replied with such a dramatic attitude, i could practically hear him rolling his eyes. i flopped back on the bed, pulling out my phone and going on tiktok, purposely turning the volume up.

“turn that down” he said sternly.

“or what?” he spun around in his chair.

“turn it down, now” i tried to hold his stare but he ultimately won, i mean how could you disobey those eyes? i rolled my eyes, turning my phone down and rolling over so i was facing away from him.

❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎

we had all ordered a pizza and were sitting on the couch eating. i was being purposefully loud, nick was enjoying it while matt just kind of smiled to himself. the only one i was really annoying, was chris. he kept giving me looks

“y/n” i turned to him, “lower your voice”

i stuck my tongue out at him before turning back to nick. i could feel his eyes burning a hole through the back of my skull.

nick was very aware of our dynamic, being my best friend and all, so he shot me a look. i just shrugged and continued eating, getting back into my conversation, lowering my voice just a bit.

“fucking brat”

❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎

after dinner we decided to watch a movie, something none of us had seen before. we all got comfortable, chris and i on the chaise of the couch, nick laying on the main part and matt on another couch perpendicular to ours.

i cuddled into chris, even if he was pissed at me he never denied cuddles. he wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close.

at this point, i was frustrated. i had been such a little shit all day, why hasn’t he fucked me? or teased me at least. i noticed his hand over my shoulder and decided to bite it. not hard, just enough to get his attention. he pulled his hand away and flicked my ear, i just cuddled back into him as if nothing happened.

but i got bored again. i placed my hand on his thigh, far away enough from his crotch that it could be seen as innocent. i slowly inched my way toward the inside of his thigh before just placing my palm over his dick through his pants. he grabbed my hand and looked at me. i couldn’t contain my smirk, he was just so easy to get riled up.

chris stood up, his hand still wrapped around my wrist though the grip was tighter. he pulled me up off the couch and towards our room.

“we’re going to bed, goodnight guys”

“night” nick and matt replied at the same time, giving each other a look.

❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎₊ ⊹ ❤︎

chris harshly pulled me into his room and shut the door. he let go of me and i stood in front of the door.

“i wanted to finish the movie” i whined, knowing that i didn’t give two shits about the movie.

“so did i” he walked towards me, forcing my back against the door, “but i couldn’t because you were being a fucking brat” he spat, words soaked with venom.

“you’ve been a brat all day”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about”

he wrapped his hand around my throat, pinning me up against the door.

“you sure about that? you weren’t acting like a little bitch all day to get daddy worked up?”

i just stared at him, even if i had something to say i wouldn’t be able to get it out.

“i asked you a question slut” he tightened his grip on my neck.

“jus wanted to tease you a bit, that’s all…” my words trailed off.

he pulled me over to our bed, his grasp on my neck still firm. he pulled my face close to his after he sat on the edge.

“strip” he commanded, letting go of my neck.

i quickly pulled off all my clothes, minus my panties, he always wanted me to keep them on.

“on your knees” his tone wasn’t angry, but stern enough to make me think twice about disobeying.

i sat in front of him, on my knees with my posture straight. chris hated when i slouched. he leaned back, resting his hands on the bed behind him. i took this as an invitation, well, more of a command i guess.

i moved my hands to the waist band of his pants, slowly, in case i had misread his cues. hooking my fingers around them and his boxers, i pulled them both down, chris lifting his hips slightly so i could take them all the way off. his cock was red and angry, precum covering the tip. i went in immediately, desperate to taste him, to make him feel good.

i was interrupted by his hand in my hair, harshly pulling me back. i looked up at him, slightly confused.

“only good girls get to suck daddy’s cock, whores get their face fucked” i pouted a bit, not intentionally. i didn’t love face fucking, but chris did and i knew full well that it was a possibility when i started my act this morning.

“don’t you dare pout,” he tightened his grip on my hair, making me gasp, “you know what happens when you act like a brat”

i tried to wipe the pout off my face, hiding my disappointment that i wouldn’t get to suck him off but i should’ve known better.

“open” i opened my mouth wide and stuck my tongue out. chris stood up off the bed, slowly pushing himself into me. he kept his grip on my hair and put his other hand under my chin so he had full control over my head. he started slow, knowing that this wasn’t my favorite thing and even though he had to punish me, he didn’t want to hurt me.

the thing is, he’s just so fucking thick. when i’m sucking him off i can take my time, i have no issue taking all of him, but he’s so thick that i literally have to stretch my mouth out. so when he fucks my face, i don’t have time to get used to it and my mouth gets tired.

his thrusts got harder, sharper. i looked up at him as best i could, his head was thrown back, hair sticking to his forehead and his eyes closed. i wish i could have this image of him tattooed on the inside of my eyelids.

he must’ve felt me staring, snapping his neck down and smirking at me.

“such an obedient little whore. i knew you couldn’t keep your act up forever, just needed daddy to make you desperate enough”

i groaned around him. he knew me so well, inside and out.

“fuck you’re gonna make daddy cum baby” he praised, unable to help himself, “and you’re going to swallow all of it, you don’t wanna know what’ll happen if you don’t”

i did kind of want to know but the thought of swallowing all his cum was too appealing. i moaned around him, letting him know i understood. he groaned at the vibrations and after a few more thrusts i felt him shoot his warm load to the back of my throat.

i took it down easily, loving the taste of him. i stuck my tongue out, showing him that i listened. he grabbed my jaw and smacked me lightly.

“my perfect slut” chris reached his hands out to me, helping me up off the floor before pushing me back on the bed. i looked at him confused, he met my eyes and looked down. i followed and was faced with his still hard cock. i must’ve really worked him up.

he moved his hands down my stomach coming to the waistband of my panties, a dark spot covering my core. he pulled them down my legs, discarding them somewhere in the room.

“i’m not done with you, hands and knees”

this wasn’t a punishment for me anymore, i loved doggy, feeling his chest against my back, his hands in my hair or around my throat and his balls slapping my clit, god it was just the perfect position.

chris positioned himself at my entrance, his grip on my hips light as he sunk the tip of his dick in me. he did that a few more times, hands on my hips barely touching me.

he ran his hand up my spine, ghosting my skin, with only the first inch of his cock inside me. grabbing my hair, he slammed into me, giving me no time to adjust to his girth before pulling out and pushing back in harder, if that was even possible. i screamed, the pain to pleasure ratio too high.

“fuck so good daddy” i yelled as best i could, it came out as more of a squawk.

“yeah you like how hard daddy is with you?” he pulled tighter on my hair, “how worked up i get when you act like a little bitch,” slapped my ass, “you belong to me” then the other side.

“you are fucking mine, you obey me, listen to my orders”

“hnngggg daddy please”

“say it” i stayed silent “say. it.” he spat into my ear, making me jump.

“i’m yours, fuck i-i’m all yours”

“and so you don’t fucking forget it, i’m gonna pump my cum so far into you it’ll never come out”

“god please PLEASE fuck n-need it please daddy”

“love when you beg me like a good slut. do it some more baby, tell daddy how much you want it”

“FUCK daddy please god i need it so bad”

he grunts.

“daddy please please please i’ll be good i promise, please” i was practically sobbing, begging him to fill me up. i knew he’d hold this against me, next time i’m feeling bratty, more likely tomorrow morning.

“good girl baby, so good for me, just needed to be fucked good. that’s all, right?”

“yes fuck daddy cummmming” was all i managed to get out.

“yes baby, let go, been so good for me”

and just as soon as he told me to let go, he did too. i felt his hot cum paint my walls and i saw stars, i let out the most ungodly noise. you could probably hear it at the wendy’s down the street.

chris continued to pump into me, keeping his promise and fucking his cum so far inside me it was never coming out. he collapsed on top of me before rolling us over on our sides. i thought about trying to move away, get him out of me but i was so tired, and i love having him inside me.

“i think you should have to sleep with my cock and cum inside you” i could hear the smirk on his face. i just pulled him closer, as tight as i could, which apparently wasn’t very hard because he laughed at me and pulled me farther into his arms. i could feel his cum move around inside me as he kissed the top of my head.

“fuckin brat”

a/n- i really really really like this it was so fun to write i hope yall enjoy

#sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut

508 notes · View notes

everythingne · 7 months ago

Text

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ everything that can, will. (aa23)

It's your first birthday while dating Alex. You learn a little goes a long way in the world of F1 when half the grid comes to assist a bunch of minor inconveniences that threaten to ruin Alex's perfect day.

requested here!

alex albon x girlfriend!reader

warnings/notes: no warnings? tooth rotting fluff for once in my life, alex trying his DAMN HARDEST ok. IM SORRY IS SO LATE </3

Alex had told you about a thousand times that no matter how many times you said it was fine, that you’d be okay just having pizza and watching a movie on the couch to celebrate your birthday, that he was going to try and make it nice.

And then he gets called in for an emergency meeting at Williams.

To say you’re disheartened is an understatement. Alex had been happily dropping hints here and there about his plans, nothing you could discern any big idea from but mostly just little excited chatter from him. It had been weeks of you begging for any clue, even something vague, and just receiving a simple kiss on the closest part of your body to Alex in return.

Basically, Alex had been unintentionally torturing you by holding this over your head, and now you wouldn’t even get to know.

Considering he only has maybe an hour max to get ready and to get to Williams, he’s very quick to get out the door. You make him a water bottle and pack a quick lunch, and some extra because Logan keeps wanting to eat your cooking and he hasn’t been over in a long while. Hastily, you bid Alex goodbye with a chaste kiss while he hands you your laptop you’ve been looking for since you woke up.

“It was under the sweatshirt you threw on your desk,” he shouts over his shoulder as he kicks a shoe on and nearly falls on his head in the process, and then right before he slams the door he calls your name and when you poke back around to look at the door he says, “Logan’s gonna pick you up at four!”

And Alex is gone before you can think to ask what the hell he means. And when you text Alex a few minutes later once the most of your confusion has subsided, he has no answer. So you text Logan, who also doesn’t answer to your dismay.

It’s Carmen who calls you about an hour later and asks you to let her into the apartment building, and then into your apartment itself. When you do, she happily whisks you off to the bathroom, leaving a mostly confused George behind as she tells you to get dressed for dinner.

“But Alex is busy?”

“And you think he just gave up on this? Like he hasn’t been planning this for almost a month?” Carmen stops to gawk at you with the most annoyed expression, like she can't believe you're thinking logically for once, “Babe. He literally panic texted their group chat and was freaking out about possibly missing today, he's got half of William's working to get him out early too."

“What groupchat?” You ask as Carmen, ever elegant, begins digging through the makeup you keep in your little sink side makeup bag. You're sorting through your closet when something pokes your arm and you look up to see George, who hands you your phone you'd left on the counter downstairs. He then turns and sprawls across your bed to kill the time.

“Alex has a groupchat with, Lando, Oscar, Logan and George, they made it when Alex was—as George says ‘too pussy’ to ask you out when you were a guest of Red Bull at Silverstone.” Carmen calls from the bathroom as you find the outfit you'd planned to wear tonight hung in the front of the closet, and kneel down to find your shoes in one of the various bins on the bottom of the closet.

“That was like… three almost four years ago!” You call back to her, poking your head out of the closet to look at her across the room and she grins as George laughs.

“Yeah, it was just 2019 rookies thing, but when Logan got to Williams I filled him in one night and we made the chat!” He says from where he's starfished on his stomach across your bed, phone in one hand as he idly scrolls through whatever app he's on.

“Christ.” You pinch your nose, and slam the closet door shut so you can get changed in peace. Once you've gotten ready, you open the door and walk to meet Carmen who grins and compliments your outfit and begins running you through makeup ideas.

You both settle on something natural, which is what you expected to do yourself so Carmen is happy to oblige.

“Dinner is in an hour and a half ladies!” You hear George call after a while, and the sound of his car keys jingle as you and Carmen look at him as he gets off the bed, “I have a present to retrieve from Oscar.”

“How did Oscar get involved?” You ask George in the doorway, and he blinks at you in the most George Russell fashion ever as he smiles,

“Oh, honey, the whole grid is involved at this point.” He says, then leaves the room. You gawk at the fact he just called you 'honey' like a drag queen and Carmen can't help the laugh that barks out of her mouth.

"I've taught him too much, oh god," She laughs to you and you can't help the smile that crosses your face before she continues to help you get ready.

By the time Carmen assures you that you look great and ushers you out and into the kitchen, there is a concerning amount of drivers in your apartment. You note the people you expect, Logan is talking with George off to the side, Oscar poking between them to show them something on his phone, turning back from where Lando is actually managing to make a little bouquet of flowers look pretty on the table.

"What the hell is going on?" You can't hold back from asking as Carmen laughs into the back of her hand, and Lily comes over to give you a little side hug and compliment you while Oscar hands Logan his phone and motions to the bouquet in his hand of any and every flower you had ever called pretty spread through the room.

"There's like four more. This man is insane." Lando hums and you can't help the soft laugh as Lily and Carmen both usher the boys to start grabbing their things.

"The rest are coming later," Logan hands Oscar back his phone, and with a quick goodbye pretty much forced by the girls (who give you both tight hugs before leaving) you are left with Logan being the only driver in your kitchen. He's looking at something on his phone and you look around, noting someone had cleaned up the apartment a bit (probably Oscar or George), there were already two vases of flowers, and you could tell they'd restocked groceries. Which was good, you needed more food in this damn apartment but hadn't had time to run out.

Logan finally shoves his phone in his hoodie pocket and grabs his car keys, looking at you with a tiny smile as he walks to the door to grab his shoes. You follow suit, carrying your own to put on at the door.

"Ready to go? Purse, extra shoes, perfume, travel makeup bag..." Logan trails off with a grimace and an annoyed grumble under his breath as he fishes out his phone from his hoodie, "what was the other stuff Alex told me to remind you to grab..? Oh! Keys and wallet, duh."

You just kinda stare at Logan and realize every time before you leave the house, Alex always runs you through a checklist of items you need. It was mostly because Alex himself forgot a multitude of items over the course of your first few months with him, but you both had sharper memories now.

But the fact Alex asked Logan to remind you? You could melt into a puddle on the spot. Between the flowers, or the date, or the fact he'd asked all his friends to come help. You were already melting. Logan takes you to the car, helping you get in and situated before walking around to get in himself, he cracks a joke about how Alex told him to act like a rich limousine driver and you laugh along. It sounds about right.

Halfway through the drive it starts to pour. You knew it was going to be bad weather today, hence why you had suggested the movie night idea to Alex, so you weren't too shocked. The rain slows the drive a bit, after some idiot nearly rear-ends Logan, but you make it in one piece.

Pulling up to the restaurant, you thank your lucky stars it's nowhere fancy. It's one of the many little places you and Alex stopped into quite often, typically for take-out due to busy schedules. Logan tells you to wait while he texts Alex and you happily do, looking around to see if you can spot Alex before Logan can text him.

And then your side door opens and a familiar head pokes in, Lando smiles, "Hello, Ma'am."

"Hello, Norris." You echo, laughing when he offers a hand out to you to get out of the car as he holds an umbrella over you. Turning over your shoulder as you stand, you spot a few more familiar faces--everyone from the apartment plus who you think might be Max and maybe Daniel leaning on the side of Georges car with their hoods up like some sort of spies.

How Alex managed to get almost half the grid involved, you have no idea.

"He's inside," Logan says to Lando who nods happily, gently guiding you over to the restaurant door and opening it for you while Logan leans across the console to close the passengers of his car. Once you're safely inside the little restaurant you peer over to a few of the guys giving eachother fist bumps and realize Alex's car isn't even here.

But you feel an arm snake around your waist as a quick kiss is popped to the side of your head, "Boo."

"Alex," You laugh, melting into his touch and letting him guide you to the side with a soft thanks to the hostess as he brings you to the usual corner booth the two of you always steal, perfectly secluded from the world and a little safe haven amidst the chaos. You can see Logan's car idling in the parking lot, someone leaning in the window talking to him while Oscar holds an umbrella up. But Alex taking your hand brings your attention away. It's way before the dinner rush, so its as quiet as usual as you both settle down to eat.

"Now," You hum, setting your bag besides you as you lean on the table and look at the drinks already waiting--he'd been here for a little while before you, "How in the world did you manage this?"

"I ended up basically begging James." Alex laughs, "I called Logan right after James called me, filled him in, and he was with Oscar. The two of them started asking all sorts of things and with the help of Lando they apparently planned out this whole thing. The only thing I knew was George was going over with Carmen and that Logan was gonna bring you."

"So you didn't know about anyone else being involved?" You ask and Alex cocks his head at you.

"Oh, God. Who did they rope in?" Alex asks and you wav a hand, softly laughing.

"I dont know for sure but I thought I saw Max and Daniel?" And as you say that, Alex scowls in confusion and the expression makes you burst into a tiny fit of giggles as he lets out a soft laugh through a huff.

"Lando probably pulled Daniel in, but I have no idea how Max got roped into this." You say as the waitress comes over, looking a little stressed. You send a glance to Alex, who already looks worried at her slightly nervous fidgeting.

"Unfortunately," the woman starts, "our stoves aren't exactly working..? The gas line is busted from the wind outside or something, so we won't be able to serve you..."

You and Alex kinda blink at each other before he's quick to speak, "Oh! Don't worry, let me pay for the drinks."

"No no!" The waitress exclaims, "you two are here all the time, it's on the house, don't worry!"

After a bit of back and forth of Alex insisting he'll pay and the waitress basically begging otherwise, you manage to convince Alex to let it be on the house with the workaround of leaving the girl a big tip on the non-existent bill instead. He satiates with that and as you both get up, he knocks one of the drinks off the table and shatters the glass. You both just kinda pause before he asks if you're alright, which you are, and the waitress promises to clean it as she helps you both step around it.

Alex slips another bit of cash on the table for her before he's guiding you out along with the few other tables who were waiting. His umbrella flicks out as you leave, moreso covering you in the now drizzle, but the wind causes it to flip and you laugh as he carts you over to Logan's car, and the doors are locked when you get there but luckily Logan's reflexes are still just as sharp as you remember because he's unlocking the door so you and Alex can tumble inside the back seats in fits of laughter.

"Good lord, what happened?" Logan laughs as he hands back some napkins from his glovebox so you can wipe off the rain on your arms that threaten to chill you to the core.

"Gas line is broken." Alex groans as he shoves his wet, broken umbrella onto the floor and shuts the door. He'd gotten arguably more drenched than you, so you hand him some napkins so he can try and dry himself off too. Logan laughs at your misfortune good heartedly and begins to pull out of the parking lot. The ride back to Alex's apartment is quiet, but peaceful, and you both laugh and thank Logan as you run from his car to the lobby of the apartment building. And right as you go to click the button for the elevator, because Alex of course had to live on the ninth floor, the power cut.

"Are you serious?" You hiss, turning to Alex with a frustrated huff. The rain was funny, and the resturant falling through was annoying but something you could laugh off... now you had to climb seven flights of stairs in the pitch dark, and it was your birthday. The world was supposed to be going right for you.

"I'll carry you--"

"Nine flights?"

You both look at eachother and then Alex shrugs with a tiny grin, "We might have to pit stop a few times but yeah?"

"Alex, I love you, so no. You will die." You grin and he smiles as soon as he notices it. All he was trying to do was make you laugh, and he succeeded. You do take the stairs, going slow because the emergency lights keep going in and out, and of course as soon as you get upstairs the power is restored.

But this works for Alex because he drags you into the apartment, yelling about making drinks and popcorn. You go off to get changed while he roots through the cabinets, and when you come back out you swear you hear Logan shouting something before the door slams shut.

"We have pizza!" Alex sing songs as you walk back into the kitchen and you laugh as he sets it down on the coffee table. He waves you over and motions you to plop down on the couch, laying a blanket over you before vanishing for a few moments. He comes back with popcorn and drinks, setting them down before plopping down next to you.

"So, y'know when you mentioned you just wanted to do a pizza movie night?" Alex hums, leaning a bit closer just to peck a kiss on your lips, "I guess the birthday wishes come true."

You can't help but giggle then, letting Alex pull up the next episode of the series you both were watching while you pop open the pizza box, grinning at him when he takes out his phone for a picture.

You couldn't have asked for a better birthday.

#alex albon x reader #alex albon x you #alex albon x y/n #aa23 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula one fanfiction #formula one fic #nicole wrote this

173 notes · View notes

drabblesandimagines · 1 year ago

Text

Code Pizza

Leon Kennedy x fem reader Established relationship, fluff 1,531 words

“Can’t you go any faster?” The barrel of a gun is pressed against the already tender spot from where they’d oh-so-kindly whacked you round the head earlier and you wince, losing the slight flow you’d managed to build up on the keyboard – Leon’s words echoing around your head.

“Promise me you won’t ever do any of that self-sacrificing bullshit,” he’d mumbled in your ear, arms wrapped around you in bed. He’d got back from a mission that afternoon – been awful quiet about what it had entailed, what had happened and you hadn’t pressed.

“Me?”

“Mm. Like, if… If someone’s forcing you to do something – do it, we’ll sort out the mess later. You make sure you’re home and alive at the end of the day.” His voice sounded almost strained. “Just promise me, sweetpea.”

“I promise.”

Not exactly sure if this scenario was exactly what Leon had had in mind, but there’s a gun and a threat, so you’re typing… or at least attempting to.

“She’d be faster if you’d untied her hands.” Hunnigan grumbled from behind, seated in an office chair with her hands zip-tied behind her back. Yours are bound in front of you, keeping your wrists crossed, and essentially cutting one hand out of action entirely.

“Is that true?” Your minder – A, you decide to call him - leans forward into your peripheral vision, though his face is obscured by a ski mask – as is his companion’s – B - standing over Hunnigan. They’re geared up to the nines, spare ammo dangling off tactical belts, part of a larger operation in order to gain access to DSO HQ and you, apparently. The doors are locked down due to the emergency protocol, though the HQ works on a skeleton crew at the weekend so it’s possible that no-one even knows you and Hunnigan are in.

“100 words per minute at my best.” You shrug, eyes skimming over the code you’ve managed to get through so far. “I’m probably working at… 15 and less. So, yeah, it would be faster.”

“Nice try.” B states. “You’re writing code, not a novel.”

“Novel, no. Poetry, maybe...” You trail off. It would be a lot easier if you did have both of your hands, weren’t being held at gunpoint and not suffering from a raging headache.

You weren’t even supposed to be working, it being a Sunday. You’d been in yesterday working overtime on a project, but this morning had been spent catching up on dull chores around the house – laundry, going to the store, cleaning - and then the plan had been an afternoon of video games on the sofa, ordering a pizza for dinner, accompanied by a bottle of wine. Leon had been away a couple of days on a need-to-know basis and you didn’t have a date of when he’d be back, though he did always try and give you a couple of hours’ heads up on his impending arrival.

Early afternoon, just as you’d sat down, controller in hand, you’d got a call. Not from your boyfriend, however, but from one Ingrid Hunnigan, extremely apologetic but there had been urgent developments – vague, as always – and she needed you in ASAP. You’d agreed, couldn’t really refuse her, but you’d decided in a slight show of protest you weren’t getting changed into your more professional work wardrobe. If it truly was an emergency, they’d have to deal with you in your jeans and t-shirt…

..which had led to the nasty bruise on your temple when the intruders had burst in, taking you as a civilian to be subdued. When you came to, hands now bound, head thudding, fingers being snapped in front of your face to get your attention, you were wheeled in front of the computer terminal and given your objective.

“It’s faster in the movies.” A comments, waving the gun lazily now at least.

“We’re not in the movies.” You grumble back, irritated. “I’m writing a bespoke code to get into this system.”

B comes to stand at your side, then. “Well, our contact promised us that you were some sort of genius at this sort of stuff.”

“Maybe when I’m not concuss-” You’re cut off by him slamming his fist on the desk besides you, making you jump and your heart pound.

“Enough lip, enough excuses. Concentrate.”

You shuffle in the seat, repositioning your hands and continue on with what’s been demanded of you, Leon’s words echoing in your mind.

Your phone emits a jingle from your pocket – speak of the devil…

“What’s that?” B demands, looking around.

“It’s my phone – just a text.”

“You were meant to search her, you idiot.” B chides his companion. “Where is it?”

“Jacket pocket.” It chimes again.

“Someone’s popular.” You bite your tongue as he crouches down besides you, placing a hand unnecessarily on your thigh as he dips his hand in your pocket, fishing it out. “Who’s LSK?”

“My boyfriend.” You don’t need to turn to know Hunnigan’s trying to hold in a grin.

“Says he’s on his way home, wants to know if you’re there.”

“Can you tell him I’m working late and he should order pizza for dinner? I haven’t been grocery shopping yet and I was meant to.”

“I’m not your secretary,” B scoffs.

The phone chimes again. You’d set Leon’s messages to that obnoxious sound to be sure you heard it, not wanting to miss a chance to text with him whilst he was away. If he had time on his hands, his texts often turned to stream of consciousness until he got a reply.

“You ignoring me, sweetpea? God, he’s a bit needy, isn’t he?”

“He’ll just keep doing it unless I text back,” you pause in your typing, “Or I can do it…”

“Ah-ah, keep working.” B replies, tapping at your phone’s keyboard.

It chimes again and B sighs.

“He wants to know what you want.”

“Er…” You hesitate a moment, pretending to doublecheck a string value. “Veggie. Extra jalapenos.”

He taps again and sends, before placing your phone down on the desk out of reach. His hand squeezes your shoulder and he leans in. “Keep coding like a good girl, and we’ll make sure you get home for that pizza.”

You don’t know how he managed it with the protocols in place – surely it means there’ll be another security review - but a mere 45 minutes later after ordering your pizza, Leon comes crashing down from the ceiling, taking out A and B with single, effective shots in the chest as he does.

He forward rolls out of the impact and gets to his feet with a flourish.

“Sorry for the wait, ladies, pizza’s free since it wasn’t 30 minutes or less.” He grins, heading to Hunnigan first and cutting through her restraints.

“Do I even want to ask?” Hunnigan quirks an eyebrow, rubbing her wrists. Leon walks over to you next, crouching down in front of you and cutting your wrists free. “Wait, extra jalapenos?”

“Bingo.” You reply, though unable to tear your eyes away from Leon – he looks tired, not unusual after returning from a mission, in need of a shave. He cups your face, fingers gently brushing over the tender spot on your temple to assess the damage. “It’s a dumb code, we know.”

“No, it obviously worked. Good thinking.” Hunnigan nods, getting to her feet and approaching another terminal, sliding in her keycard to overrule the emergency controls and release the doors. “I need to call this all in – get it tidied up. Did you gain access?”

“No, couple of lines away, though.” You look at the lines of code on the screen. “I did spend a lot of time to make sure it had a real nice interface for when I ran it, for extra pizazz.”

“Good work – both of you.” Hunnigan turns to face Leon directly then, “Make sure you keep an eye on her - took quite a hit.”

“I will. Thanks, Hunnigan.” He remains crouched at your feet, your hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly.

“Good. And don’t come into tomorrow – either of you. I’ll deal with… this.” She strides out with purpose, shoulders back, nothing alluding to the fact that she was a woman who’s been held hostage for the past however many hours.

“You good, sweetheart?”

You smile, staring deep into those blue eyes you adore. “I’m good. You?”

“Won’t lie, not quite the homecoming I expected. Come here.” He pulls you up out of the chair and against his chest, wraps his arms around you and kisses you frantically, though you know it’s in relief.

“Had me worried with those jalapenos,” Leon admits, softly.

“I kept my promise.”

“Mm, not quite.” He pulls back and grins – you know that grin – but you still let out a squeal as he hooks an arm under your legs and picks you up in his arms.

“Leon, I can-“

“Nah, your promise isn’t kept and my mission isn’t over till you’re home. Allow me to give you the full hero experience.”

You roll your eyes, before pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“Fine. But we’re still getting pizza.”

“Took the words outta my mouth, sweetpea.”

Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you

514 notes · View notes

shittyassffblog · 1 year ago

Text

Free Bird

Noah Sebastian x Reader

I felt horny as shit and couldn't stop myself so here is some smut with Noah <3

Warnings: P in v sex, use of Y/N, best friend!noah, oral sex

Pt 2 here

"And you can take your lame ass excuses and shove them up your ass! We're done! Goodbye!" You hung up and threw your phone on your bed, emitting a loud, frustrated and high pitched groan. You heard your PC ping on your desk and you glanced at it to see what was going on. It was Discord that alerted you that you had a message.

noah: wanna come on?

You stared at it, kind of angry that he didn't anticipate that you had just broken up with your boyfriend, but the rational part of you spoke louder and decided to just tell him you weren't in the mood.

you: naw, bad day. talk to u later tho <3

He was already typing so you sat in your chair and waited for his reply.

noah: at least call me and tell me what happened, maybe I can make your day better?

You bit your lip as you considered his offer. He was your best friend since you met at the Hot Topic you used to work at. He was just a tall, lanky emo buying A Day To Remember merch and you instantly had a connection with him. Since then, you started being friends and talking to each other every day. It's been 10 years now and you meant the world to each other. You had supported him through everything when it came to Bad Omens and you were so proud of how far he and the boys have come. So given how close you were you decided to just call him.

You put on your headset and glanced in the mirror beside your desk to see if it was noticeable that you'd been crying and decided that it wasn't. Not even five seconds passed after you pressed the "video call" button and he picked up.

"Hey sweets, what's up? Wanna talk about your bad day?" Noah asked and you sighed. You didn't even know where to start.

"Me and Chase broke up." You said shortly and Noah was silent for a while.

"Oh. Are you okay?" He asked in a low voice. Noah never liked your boyfriend and you knew that. You were half expecting him to clap in enjoyment.

"Not really. I was kind of expecting you to congratulate me." You said, still not looking at him.

"Why would I do that? You don't seem like this was a happy choice." He said.

"I broke up with him. But he cheated." You said and a tear fell down your cheek.

"God he's such a dick. But good for you that you left him. That doesn't mean that you're not allowed to be upset by it though." Noah said and you looked at him with tearful eyes. You were about to answer him when you heard a loud noise coming from him.

"Alright that's it, I'm coming over." He said, slamming his fist in his table.

"But it's 11 pm?" You said, almost as a question.

"Yeah well my best friend is sad over her shitty ex boyfriend, you don't think that warrants me coming over with pizza and booze? C'mon, what kind of a friend would I be? I'll be there soon. Love you!" He said and hung up before you could answer You sighed as the silence settled in your room and you looked around. You noticed Noahs hoodie hanging on your lamp and you decided to put it on. You walked into your bathroom to access the damage of your tears and found that it wasn't too bad. You wiped away a few stray tears with your sleeve and walked into your living room, seeing a few of your ex' stuff lying around. You grabbed a box from you last amazon shipment and filled it with everything you could find, including the stupid Five Finger Death Punch t-shirt he had given you, thinking you'd like it. As if. He didn't even know the bands you listened to.

Amid your rage cleaning, you heard the doorbell ring and you stopped as you dropped a shoe into the box. You looked at it and the memories of your past relationship came flooding back, as did your tears. You went to let Noah in and he immediately went to hug you.

"I'm so sorry you're going through this." He said and kissed the top of your head as the hood of his hoodie fell down. You cried into his chest and he rubbed his hand along your arm.

After a while he lead you to the couch and set down the pizza and beer bottle he had picked up for you on the coffee table.

"Wanna tell me what happened? How did you find out?" Noah asked, separating from you to wipe away your tears.

"She fucking DM'ed me. The girl he was with, her name was Emily or something. She had slept with him and then found him on Facebook to find that it said he was in a relationship and decided to tell me about it and apologised. Of course i don't blame her, she didn't know. But man, it just felt like a knife in my gut." You said, sniffing. Noah grabbed a napkin from the coffee table and handed it to you to help you blow your nose.

"Then did you call him?" Noah asked, taking the pizza out of the bag so you could use the bag as a trash can your your snotty paper.

"Yeah and I spent like 20 minutes yelling at him. He tried saying something like she was lying or something but she had sent me screenshots of him asking to pick her up or something." You finished and Noah sighed, pulling you in for another hug.

"He's isn't worth your tears c'mon. You're far too good of a catch to let a guy like that ruin you." Noah said and you smiled up at him. The doorbell rung again and you looked at Noah quizzically. He got up and opened the door for you. It was Chase. You felt your whole body stiffen.

"Oh you have got to be kidding me." Noah said, immediately tensing his body. Chase only laughed when he saw Noah, and then looked over at you.

"Really Y/N? Not even an hour later and you're already on to the next one? Knew I couldn't trust you, fucking bitch." He said and before you could answer, Noah had pushed Chase out the door.

"Yeah you don't get to make accusations you know nothing about. I think you should leave." Noah said, his words and tone calm but his body ready for whatever Chase could come up with.

"I knew there was more to this...thing, you and her call a friendship, so much for the bro code huh?" Chase said, trying to upset Noah.

"Don't think for a second I think of you as a bro. Not for one damn second. It is very easy to treat a woman right without expecting something in return and you couldn't even do that so leave." Noah said, pushing Chase once more. You couldn't do much but watch as everything happened. You were frozen.

"You're just gonna sit there looking stupid? What's wrong with you bitch, say something!" Chase yelled, charging forward towards you but was stopped in his tracks as Noah grabbed a handfull of his hair and dragged him outside. You ran to the door to see what was going on and Noah forced Chase down on the ground, got down on one knee and grabbed his throat.

"You leave her alone. Got it?" Chase nodded weakly and as soon as Noah let go and stood up, he ran as fast as he could. Noah walked quickly into the living room, grabbed the box of Chase's things and threw them after him.

"Don't think about coming back." He yelled and watched as Chase pathetically picked his stuff up from the ground. Noah walked back to you, taking a deep breath to calm down and grabbed your face.

"Are you okay? Did he always talk to you like that?" He asked calmly and you nodded.

"He has anger issues." You said meekly and Noah wrapped you in his arms.

"Let's devour that pizza now, shall we?" Noah asked and you smiled at him as you nodded.

"Didn't know you were that strong though." You said, trying to lighten the mood.

"I may or may not have been working out while I was on tour." He said flexing his arms playfully. You laughed as you sat down to enjoy the pizza.

A few days passed and you were doing surprisingly well. Noah was practicing for the next leg of the tour and you were setting up dating profiles. You decided that you needed a palate cleanser to get rid of the "chase cooties" as Noah called it when he suggested you try it. You were apprehensive at first but ultimately decided it was a good idea.

You were in your kitchen waiting for your leftovers to heat up in the microwave as you were swiping on tinder. No one really captured your eye except this one guy with a dragon tattooed on his neck. His name was Steven and he was not far from you. You decided to swipe on him, and not long after your microwave dinged so you locked your phone and went to eat it. As you sat by your counter and ate your food, a notification came up that Steven had matched with you. Not long after he sent you a message.

Steven: Hey, nice tats. Wanna grab a drink this week?

You stared at the message. No emojis. He had two pictures on his profile, but it linked to his instagram. You looked through and he seemed real enough so you said yes to the drink.

You planned to meet the following friday and you texted Noah to let him know where you'd be in case something happened.

Noah: go get em tiger! get ur dick wet!

You laughed at his message and sent a gif saying 'disgustang'.

Friday came and you were getting dressed for your date. You put on some dark red lipstick and a low cut top Chase never allowed you to wear and headed out the door. You felt very liberated that you could make your own choices again and happily waited for Steven a few blocks away from your apartment.

Not long after a black sports car Xoomed up to your and packed right in front of you. A very attractive man with a dragon on his neck emerged from the car.

"Y/N?" He asked and you nodded. He walked around the car and grabbed your hand to kiss it. "Pleasure to meet you, gorgeous." he said and you blushed.

"Likewise." You said and he smiled while opening the car door for you.

Not long after you arrived at the bar and he ordered you a drink and a beer for himself. You talked for a while and had a genuinely good conversation. You went to the bathroom and texted Noah an update and he sent a sports gif of a tiger mascot. You laughed and put your phone in your pocket, ready to get out the guy again.

When you came back, Steven started asking you some personal questions. At first you didn't think much of it, but the question got more and more sexual and you were feeling quite uncomfortable. When you answers got more and more short and cold he started berating you, asking why you were such a prude and generally being a dick to you.

"Do you think you just get free drinks and then that's it? No no, you gotta do something for me too sweetheart." He said and you picked up your phone, texting Noah to come get you.

"You don't seem like a very nice person." You said, finishing your drink and locking eyes with the bartender. He nodded at you, meaning he would keep an eye on you.

"I'm very nice, trust me, but only to nice girls, not gold diggers like you." He bit back and you put on your jacket. You didn't answer him, only stared at him.

"What you're just not gonna say anything?" He asked and you still didn't answer. The bartender came over.

"Hey so I think you should leave now." Said the bartender and Steve looked up at him like he was dumb.

"You can't kick me out, I didn't do anything." He said, rolling his eyes and looking back at you.

"Yes we can , we have the right to refuse service to anyone for any reason. So leave." He said back and you started to feel scared of what Steven would do.

"Let me speak to your manager." said Steven and the bartender agreed. Steven got up and went to the bar, and while he was arguing with the bar manager you slipped out, waiting for Noah. Just as you got outside, he pulled up and you got into the car,

"Hey sweets, how was it?" Noah teased and you rolled your eyes.

"Horrible, he was a giant dick." You said, grabbing the water bottle Noah brought for you. You took a giant gulp of it.

"What do you mean?" Noah asked as he drove you home.

"He was just horrible, I don't really wanna talk about it. " You said, and he nodded, respecting your privacy, You would talk about it when you wanted to.

"Don't let this one guy deter you from online dating though. It can be really fun you know." Noah said and you scoffed.

"Yeah for guys maybe." You said coldly and Noah glanced at you. He knew you didn't mean anything by it.

"Wanna elaborate?" He asked and you sighed.

"Well it's just, for guys it's fine, you can just order women to do what you want and if they don't want to it's on to the next one and then you put your dick in them and then that's that. For women it's like, if I reject this guy, will I be dead by the time the sun comes up?" You said huffing. Noah nodded in understanding.

"I mean I know that's a real fear that women have and that sucks a lot, but there must be a space where you can have fun too right?" He asked carefully. He didn't want to seem like he wasn't empathetic to your pain, but he still wanted to help you get over your ex.

"Yeah with a person you trust sure. But online dating is a rapists wet dream." you said. "And even then, sex isn't even worth that much."

Noah looked at you quizzically. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I just never felt that big climax that people talk about. I guess my orgasms aren't very intense when I have sex." You said and Noah looked questioningly at you while still keeping an eye on the road.

"Well what about when you're alone?" He asked and you looked at him. Might as well be honest now, you thought.

"Yeah then I feel great, but when I'm with someone it's like it's just there a little, then it gets kind of good but then they're done." You said shrugging your shoulders. Noah let out a noise you had never heard before.

"You never had anyone give you an orgasm?" Noah asked incredulously.

"Well I don't know. Maybe?" You said. "I've only ever been with Chase." You said. And Noahs eyes were bigger than you've ever seen them before. You were arriving at your house and he put the car in park.

"What about when he ate you out?" Noah asked, genuinely curious.

"Chase thought it was gross. Don't you?" You asked, turning your body a little. He looked at you like you were crazy.

"What?" You asked.

"I love eating pussy, it's my favourite passtime!" He said and you laughed.

"What do you mean? Does it even taste good?" You asked and he nodded wildly

"Yeah I mean it depends a lot but generally yeah I like the taste." Noah said.

"Well, Chase never liked it so we didn't do it." You said, crossing your legs. Noah chuckled a little.

"He really was a little bitch huh. You deserve someone who loves eating your pussy." He said, grabbing your leg, like he'd done many times before, but this time it was different. This time his hand shot electricity up your thigh, making you squirm a little in your seat.

"Would...Would you show me?" You asked and his grip on your thigh tightened. You glanced a little at him and you could see his jaw tightened.

"I uh..I don't know if that's a good idea Y/N." He said and you looked at him properly. He wouldn't meet your eyes, but his hand stayed where it was.

"C'mon Noah. I've clearly missed out on a lot. Show me." You asked, getting closer to him. You didn't know where all this confidence came from, or why you wanted your best friends mouth on you so bad, but you did. He turned to look at you, but his eyes were trained on your lips. He let out a shaky breath and let go of your leg. You leaned back, afraid you had upset him or made him uncomfortable, but he was taking off his seat belt.

"I'll show you. But just this once, I don't wanna ruin our friendship. And we don't mention it to anyone." He said and you grinned, unbuckling your own seat belt and got out of his car. You already felt yourself getting excited.

"Wow you are really horny huh?" Noah said as he locked the car, holding out his arm to wrap it around your shoulder as he walked you inside. You unlocked the door and led him to your bedroom.

As you closed the door, he sat himself on the bed. You sat beside him and a kind of awkward silence fell between you. You felt like you kind of sobered up by the reality of what you had asked your best friend to do.

"If this is gonna ruin our friendship we could just forget it or something." You said, not meeting Noah eye. He looked at you for a moment not answering.

"We could also just agree to not let it ruin our friendship. This is a one time thing, to show you what you should expect from guys that you date in the future, and to get to know each other better." Noah said, and you were surprised he seemed to have thought this through.

"That doesn't sound too bad." You said, looking down at your hands. He reached over and held one of them, squeezing it to make you look at him.

"I love you, Y/N. I want to keep being friends so this will just be two people having fun for a night and then never doing it again, right?" He asked with a sweet smile and you nodded. He smiled a little wider and before you knew it, he was leaning in, closing his eyes in the process.

"Woah what are you doing?" You said, pulling away. He opened his eyes and looked at you quizzically.

"Well I need to turn you on before we begin, only way I know how to do that is to kiss you first, is that okay?" He asked softly. When he said it, it makes sense. But no one ever did this with you. Cared for your pleasure like this. It was different.

"Y-yeah, that's umm...that's okay." You stuttered out, and he smiled again, this time moving closer to you and lightly grabbing your chin with his thumb og index finger. You let yourself relax and Noah do what he wanted to. He seemed to know best. When his lips touched yours it was light and soft, yet had passion. Like he wanted something you didn't know to give him, and it was his job to pull it from you. You kissed back, and before you knew it, his tongue was in your mouth. You had thought about kissing Noah before, but this was way different than what you had imagined. Good different, but different.

His hand on your chin fell to your neck, tracing down your arm and landed itself on your waist. He pulled, as if to get you to move closer. Already this was way better than what you had experienced before, Noah clearly knew what he was doing. You wondered where he had learned it, but decided to not ask. This was too nice.

A soft moan fell from his lips and you were brought back from your train of thought. His lips left yours and for a second you thought about whining, but when his lips attached to your jaw, right below your ear and then your neck, that whine quickly turned into a moan.

"Sensitive on your neck?" He asked and you let out a breathy sound that was supposed to be a laugh. He went right back to kissing your neck, teeth getting involved sometimes and the moans that were falling from your lips were fewer between.

"Can I take your shirt off?" Noah asked and you nodded. He smiled and grabbed the hem of your shirt, lifting it up over your head. "It's a shame though." He said, eyeing up your chest.

"What is?" You asked, kind og dazedly.

"Taking your shirt off. You looked really good in it. Why don't you ever dress like that for me?" He asked smirking while laying you down on your back, leaning over you.

"Well I don't make it a habit of sleeping with my best friend." You said smiling slightly.

"You should, he's enjoying it so far." He joked and you laughed while he kissed you between your breasts. "Can I take off your bra too?" He asked, looking up at you. His voice was low, which only made this all the more enticing. You nodded slowly, laying your head back to try and think of something else besides your best friend looking at your tits. You lifted your back little so he could fit his arm under it and unclasp your bra. He slowly guided the straps down your arms, a soft groan emitting from his lips.

"Goddamn, if I knew you were hiding these under your baggy hoodies we would have done this a long time ago." Noah said, and you laughed a little.

"Yeah cause when we met at 14 my tits were definitely this size, right." You joked, but your sentence ended with a gasp as his lips closed around one nipple while his hand massaged the other. He was soft about it all, like licking a soft serve ice cream. It caused you to mewl, which Chase could never have done to you. It was like Noah knew how to handle your body, without ever asking you.

"Kinda wanna think about your adult tits right now if you don't mind?" He said as he shifted to the other nipple. You chuckled at that and let him do his thing. He moved on to your stomach and when he reached the edge of your pant he stopped and looked up at you yet again asking, "Is this okay? can I take your pants off?" You nodded and lifted your ass, his slender, tattooed fingers grasping the edge of your pants and pulling them down, kissing just above the edge of your underwear.

"These too?" He asked and you laughed a little.

"You gonna ask every time you do something new?" You asked and he stopped what he was doing to look at you.

"Yes, how else do I know what I have consent for?" He asked.

"That is the hottest thing anyone has ever said to me ever." You said and he laughed.

"You gotta raise your standards babe." He said, going back to kissing the lower part of your stomach. "You gonna answer my question?" He asked, running his hands up and down your legs.

"I forgot what the question was." You said truthfully. He laughed as he rested his head again your hip.

"I asked if I could take off your underwear too." He said, and your heart started beating faster.

"Uh yeah. Yeah that's okay." You said. The seriousness of the situation was starting to settle in and you were kind of nervous. When he pulled off your underwear it would be crossing a line that has never been crossed before and it couldn't ever be uncrossed again. Noah could sense your hesitation so he stopped.

"If you wanna stop, tell me. It's no fun if you're not having fun." He said and you knew he meant it.

"No it's okay I'm just kind of nervous." You admitted and he came back up to your face.

"Hey. It's just me. It'll be okay." He said smiling and you smiled back, taking in a deep breath as he lowered his body again, kissing along your body as he did so. He grabbed the hem of your underwear and pulled them down. You were worried he would be repulsed by then smell of you, but when you looked down at him all you could see was hunger in his eyes. It made you feel better to know that he didn't care about the smell, so you tried to relax in his presence.

He kissed the inside of your thigh, grabbing them both and pushing up so you bend your knees. You felt very exposed, and you wished he would just get on with it.

"So pretty baby. Can't wait to taste you." He said and it made your stomach soar. Did he really not find it gross?

"You know, you don't have to do this either, like if it's too gross for you or something." You said, biting your lip. You wanted him to continue, but you understood if he didn't want to.

"I don't wanna stop. And nothing about this perfect pussy could be gross." He said, kissing up your other thigh. You took a deep breath and let him do as he pleased.

He kissed your pussy as if he was knocking for entrance, and spread your legs further. He then started at your clit, licking small, tentative licks as to not overwhelm you. When you sighed in pleasure he took that as a sign he could continue, and let his tongue wander down to your entrance and licked into you.

"Oh my god." You said, already it felt better than it has with anyone else. It seemed to urge Noah to go further, so he licked a big broad stripe up your pussy and you hummed.

"Oh Noah it feels so good." You said lowly and he smiled. A devilish smile, one that you felt was too cocky for his own good but you were struggling to care. He pleasured you with such patience, the tight feeling in your stomach building and building and you almost thought he was a magician, as fast as he was getting you worked up.

What you didn't expect was the finger that was circling your opening before entering you gently.

"Holy fuck, Noah." You said and he hummed a soft 'hmm?' as if asking what was the issue.

"Oh you make me feel so good Noah." You said and his finger slid into you further and further, stopping and then curling, reaching a spot inside you that made your whole body writhe. He was rubbing the spot, not letting one movement of his finger go without touching it.

"What the fuck Noah?" You asked, sitting half up as you grabbed his hair to keep yourself grounded. He detached himself from your pussy and smiled up at you.

"That feel good baby?" He asked, his eyelids hanging low on his eyes. You could do nothing but nod as the movements of his fingers didn't halt for even a second while he took at good look at you. He went back to your clit, this time sucking on it gently and making your hips buck up into his face. It only seemed to spur him on, as his movements sped up. You felt a familiar feeling coming and you tangled your fingers in Noah’s hair, pulling when he hit a particularly nice spot inside you.

“Noah, I’m so close.” You warned, and he sped up yet again, only he stopped sucking your clit and instead look at you through heavy eyelids, right into yours. You were a moaning mess, not being able to control it anymore as you came on his fingers, yelling his name out. He helped you through your orgasm and when you were panting for air he slowly pulled his finger out of you and made sure you saw him lick it clean. You couldn’t believe what just happened, your best friend just gave you the orgasm of your life.

“How in the hell did you do that?” You asked him, still not being able to catch your breath.

“Well practice makes perfect I guess” he said laughing. You laughed with him and he came up to lay beside you. A silence fell between you, but it wasn’t awkward. You were still coming down from your high and you noticed Noah shifting a little, seeming restless.

“You okay over there?” You asked and he looked at you with a little blush on his face.

“Well, I told you I love eating pussy” he said chuckling slightly as he readjusted himself in his shorts You considered your options. You could leave the room, pretend you had to pee and let him do his thing. Or…

“You want help with that?” You asked, turning to him. He looked at you, searching your eyes for any sort of insincerity, but he couldn’t find any. He nodded slowly and you smiled, reaching hesitantly over to kiss his lips. You tasted yourself on him, and you couldn’t imagine what Chase would have against the taste, it was not bad at all. You were taken by surprise when Noah wrapped his arms around you and pulled you on top of him, deepening the kiss.

“You are wearing far too many clothes.” You said between kisses and he hummed a sound of agreement. You pulled off his hoodie and went right back to kissing him, hungry for him in a way you never were for anyone else. He grabbed two handfuls of your ass, not caring if his grip left bruises on it, grinding you down onto the bulge in his shorts. It made you moan into his mouth, giving him an opportunity to push his tongue into your mouth. You grinded on him as your tongues pushed against each other, revelling in this new feeling with each other. It felt liberating, to not care where the line was or how far it was crossed.

"How do you wanna do this? Hm?" Noah asked, and you were confused by what he meant.

"What?" Was all you could muster out, being out of breath.

"Do you wanna have sex?" Noah asked directly this time and you thought about it for only a second before nodding wildly. He smiled at that and rolled you around, getting up from the bed to undress fully. You could not contain your stare, and you wanted to touch yourself so bad. He had clearly been working out on tour, his once lanky frame was replaced by the lean muscles of his arms, his legs were carved like a god and the tattoos definitely only made it better.

"Touch yourself for me." Noah said which brought you back to reality.

"What?" You asked, wondering if you had heard him correctly. He couldn't possibly mean that, right?

"If you're comfortable, then touch yourself for me. Want to see you pleasure yourself." He said as he pulled off his underwear. You didn't dare look, afraid it would make him uncomfortable so you looked at the ceiling as your hand travelled from your stomach down to your core. You ran your fingers along your clit in a circular motion and you felt the bed dip as he came to lay beside you.

"You're such a good girl Y/N. You really are. Look at you, doing exactly what I told you. Such a good girl." Noah whispered in your ear and it only made your fingers speed up.

"You have a condom sweetheart?" He asked and you pointed towards the nightstand you had by your bed. He turned around to grab one, and while we was distracted you took at look at his member and let out a moan you didn't mean to let out. He was big, bigger than Chase and you could barely imagine it would fit. You fingers stilled as your gaze was caught on his thick cock.

"What's wrong sweets?" Noah asked, rubbing his thumb along your thigh.

"Oh nothing uhh, nothing." You said, smiling at him. He could tell it wasn't nothing though.

"Hey, you can tell me, do you want to stop?" He asked, and you shook your head furiously.

"No! No no, I'm just, nervous I guess." You admitted, looking down. He turned to hug you and kissed your forehead.

"Nothing to be nervous about baby, it's just me." He said smiling.

"Will it fit though?" You asked sheepishly and his eyes shot to yours. You worried you had said something wrong.

"That is the hottest shit i've ever heard." He said, kissing your lips. You smiled into the kiss, your hands grabbing his face and letting the kiss overtake you. He rolled on top of you, slotting himself in between your legs, groping your body and worshipping the softness of your skin. He started grinding against your heat, pulling moans from your lips.

"God Noah, please do something." You whined and he smiled mischievously, kissing you one last time before sitting back on his knees and stroking his cock a few times before running it up and down your slit. This you knew how to do. This was familiar terretory. Or so you thought. He pushed into you slowly, relishing in the tightness of your pussy, and when he bottomed out, he let out a long groan, burying his face in your neck. You had never felt so cared for and filled to the brim with pleasure before. You were overwhelmed with emotion and felt tears spring to you eyes.

"You just tell me when I can move- hey are you okay?" Noah immediately changed demeanour when he saw your wet eyes.

"No yeah I'm good, really, I just...uhm I don't know why." You admitted and he smoothed down your hair to comfort you.

"Do you want to stop?" He asked and you shook your head, smiling at him.

"No it's okay, you can move. I promise I'm fine!" You assured him as he looked at you questioningly. He didn't seem convinced.

"I promise I'm fine Noah, I'm just a bit overwhelmed, no one ever took care of me like this before." You said, avoiding his eyes. He kissed your cheek.

"Okay, but you have to tell me if I have to stop okay? Can you promise that?" He asked, trying to catch your eyes. You nodded, and he smiled a comforting smile as he kissed your neck again.

"You can move." You said, and he pulled almost all the way out, only to slide right back in, in the same excruciatingly slow pace. You wrapped your legs around his lower back, boring your heels into him, desperate to have him fuck you senseless.

"Noah, please, c'mon." You plead and he chuckled.

"Tell me what you want baby." He murmured in your ear, his pace still as slow.

"Please fuck me Noah." You asked, looking him directly in the eyes. He looked back, and before long his hips picked up speed, pounding into you as you threw your head back in pleasure.

"Oh Noah!" You moaned, not caring how loud you were. If your neighbours heard, you'd hear about it in the morning. The sound of your moans only spurred Noah on, his thrusts relentless and his breath fast.

"Fuck Y/N. Fuck we're definitely doing this again." He said and you laughed breathlessly as you dug your nails into is back. He moved slightly and with that he started hitting a spot that felt incredible many times, over and over, eliciting screams from your throat.

"Holy fuck Noah, shit shit shit, fuck, oh fuck." You rambled and Noah kept up his thrusts, moving his hips back and forth. You could feel the feeling come back, the incredibly intense feeling in your core building and building, and before long your nails dragged along his back as you screamed out his name. Your pussy clenched around him and you couldn't hold back even if you tried. Your orgasm overflowed and wouldn't stop, you legs shaking as the intense waves of pleasure washed over you. Noah kept thrusting into you through your orgasm, and when you opened your eyes again he turned you around so he was under you.

"You okay?" He asked breathlessly and you nodded lazily.

"Yeah just...intense." You said smiling. "Did you..?" You asked.

"No not yet." He said smiling. "Are you okay to continue?" He asked.

"Yeah I'm okay." You said, moving your hips slowly. He grabbed your ass, holding onto you tight and lifting you a little and started pounding into you even more relentlessly. You could barely think straight as he used your pussy until he came into the condom, deep groan escaping his throat. His hips slowed down and he let you go, burying his now softening cock into you as he caught his breath.

"Holy shit Noah." You said out of breath ad he laughed.

"Was that okay?" He asked and you nodded, kissing him. You didn't know when would be the last time you got to kiss him like this again so you decided to enjoy as much as you could. He grabbed the base of the condom and told you to get off and you did. He removed the condom and wrapped it in some tissues you had on your nightstand, as well as wiping his dick. When he was done he looked over at you and smiled. You smiled back and you wrapped yourselves in each others arms, enjoying the bubble you two had created that no one could penetrate.

The morning after woke up alone, your clothes on the floor and a feeling of complete satisfaction, yet complete loneliness.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian x reader #bad omens #concrete forever #bad omens band #jolly karlsson #nicholas ruffilo #nick folio #noah sebastian smut

698 notes · View notes