hidden lace
for @steddiesmuttyseptember prompts 'sneaking around' and 'lingerie'
rated e | 18+, minors dni or i will tell your mother | 2852 words | check ao3 for all tags
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Steve is pissed at Eddie.
Like, genuinely pissed.
Not that cute, haha my boyfriend was being annoying but I love him, pissed.
The kind where if he saw him right now, he’d do something really stupid, like yell or break up with him.
And he knew he didn’t actually want to do that.
But see, Steve had been given incorrect information about what they would be doing tonight. He’d been told they’d be having dinner alone and then going to the quarry alone and probably going back to Steve’s house alone.
When they showed up at the diner to a table full of Eddie’s bandmates, Steve’s teeth gritted together to hold back saying something much more rude than he intended.
It was fine, though, because Steve did actually like hanging out with the guys despite their rough start. They were some of the few people who knew about Steve and Eddie’s relationship, so they didn’t feel like they had to hide anything.
Well, Steve did tonight.
He was wearing his usual clothes, of course, but underneath, he was wearing a lingerie set. Something Eddie had been begging him to wear for months now, something Steve had tried on at least 20 times before only to hurry out of them because it felt too good. He figured with how much they’d be alone tonight, he could get used to the feeling of the lace against his skin at dinner and then surprise Eddie with it when they got to the quarry.
It’s all he’s thought about since Eddie picked him up.
He’s certain it’s written all over his face throughout dinner. Gareth keeps shooting him these looks like he knows Steve’s hiding something, and Jeff has asked him if he’s okay at least three times since they sat down. Frankie doesn’t say anything, but he does hand Steve a joint when no one else is looking and tells him to relax a little.
If Steve was smart, he probably would have snuck a few hits from it before Eddie got in the van.
“That was fun,” Eddie said as Steve contemplated trying to run back inside to the bathroom so he could strip the lace off and shove it into his pockets.
“Uh huh.”
“Sorry I didn’t tell you they’d be joining us, sweetheart.”
Steve gives him a half-hearted smile. “That’s okay. Um, are we seeing anyone else tonight?”
“Oh! There’s a bunch of people hanging at the quarry. I think even Robin’s gonna be there.”
Steve nods a little too enthusiastically to be convincing. “Cool. Sounds good.”
Eddie’s eyes are on him, intense. “You don’t sound happy about it. Thought you’d be a little more excited about hanging with Robin. You just told me yesterday you haven’t gotten to spend time with her outside of work for weeks.”
“No, you’re right,” Steve sighs. “I just wasn’t expecting to be…social.”
“We planned a date?” Eddie sounds genuinely confused, as if he doesn’t know the difference between hanging out one on one and in groups.
“Yeah, I just.” Steve sighs again. “It’s fine. Let’s go hang out with people.”
Eddie looks like he wants to push and understand why Steve is suddenly so worried about being around people, but Steve leans in to kiss him quickly, just a soft peck on the lips. He smiles and Eddie smiles back.
Instant distraction.
Eddie has admitted before that Steve has a way of making him go completely dumb. Some would call it dick brain, but it’s not even that he gets hard about it. He just feels like all thoughts have left the building.
Like Elvis, man,, he’d said when Robin asked what his deal was after Steve had kissed him goodbye at work.
As Eddie drives them to the quarry, Steve shifts in his seat. He’s not uncomfortable, but he definitely worries that he will be when all eyes are on him. Maybe they won’t know that he’s nearly bursting out of blush pink panties and a matching bralette that rubs against his nipples in a way that feels like Eddie’s teeth when they’re teasing him. But maybe they will.
But are his nerves because he’s worried people will know?
He can feel his dick hardening against the damp lace.
No, he doesn’t think he’s all that worried about people seeing him in lingerie.
Eddie’s door slamming is the only thing that alerts him to their arrival. He blinks and opens his door so he can hop out, but he’s immediately frozen when he feels the head of his dick rubbing against his jeans.
So maybe next time he can buy a size up. Or find some made for men. Do they make them for men?
“Stevie?” Eddie’s voice is against his ear, sending chills down his spine as his hand ghosts between his shirt and waistband. “You sure you don’t wanna go home?”
“I’m sure,” Steve shivers.
“We won’t stay for long,” he promises.
Steve just nods.
He does what he’s supposed to at these things: makes smalltalk with people he doesn’t know that well, hangs around Eddie and Robin as much as possible, smiles and laughs when appropriate.
But his brain is gone.
Well, it’s there, but it’s made of lace and the sweat beading at his brow despite the fall chill.
He doesn’t know how long they’ve been here, but he thinks he’s gonna have to go soon.
Eddie’s fingers grasp his forearm.
“Steve.”
Steve looks at him.
Eddie knows.
His face is flush and his pupils are huge, looks like he would bite a bruise into Steve’s neck right now, in front of all these people.
“Van. Now.”
The van is surrounded by cars. Empty cars, but still cars that belong to people.
Steve should probably just explain what’s going on, and then maybe they could just go back to Steve’s house and never bring this up ever again.
But he doesn’t. He knows they’re about to fuck in Eddie’s van, and he knows everyone at this gathering is busy, and he thinks maybe this will be the night that someone finds out exactly what Steve and Eddie are to each other.
Eddie doesn’t let go of his arm as they walk, which puts them both at a strange angle. No one seems to notice, but Steve’s not sure he’d be aware of anyone looking their way at this point. His brain is fuzzy, and all he can think about is Eddie stripping him down to the lace barely covering him in the back of his van.
No one is near the cars when Eddie opens the backdoor of his van and gently nudges Steve inside. No one is there to see the way Eddie watches him fall face first on the blanket he keeps laid out, barely holding back a groan at the way Steve’s ass is up in the air, taunting him even while fully clothed. No one except Steve feels his heartbeat racing as Eddie closes the door and grips his calf.
“You’ve been on edge all night. I was starting to worry you were sick or I’d pissed you off, but it’s not either of those things, is it?” Eddie leans over Steve’s back, bracketing him in until he has no choice but to fall flat against the blanket. “You wanna be fucked.”
Steve whines.
“But why? You knew we’d go to your house later. You knew I’d take care of you. So why are you acting like this?” Eddie continues, breath hot against Steve’s neck.
His hand ghosts under Steve’s shirt, fingers trailing against his skin and leaving goosebumps along the way.
Steve’s breath catches when he feels Eddie’s touch pause against the line of lace across his back.
“Stevie. What’s this?” Eddie sounds much calmer than he probably is.
“It’s a…bra. It’s a bra.”
Eddie’s forehead falls to Steve’s shoulder blade, and he lets out a huff. It may be a laugh or it may be a sigh, or it may be anything else.
“I don’t know what the hell I did to deserve you, sweetheart.”
His lips are soft against Steve’s neck.
Steve melts further into the blanket, but can’t completely relax until Eddie’s seen– or felt– everything.
“Um, there’s more,” he says as he starts to turn over so he can face Eddie. “And it might be a little weird and it might not even look good anymore because I’ve been hard for most of the night, but-”
Eddie silences him with a kiss to his lips, the taste of the last cigarette he smoked still on his tongue.
He keeps kissing him, even when Steve moans and bucks his hips up, seeking friction that’s easily found. His hand traces the waistband of Steve’s jeans, a fingertip dipping just past the denim to find what Steve’s been hiding.
“Oh.”
Steve smiles nervously. He knows Eddie would never make him feel bad, even if he didn’t happen to like the lingerie, but he’s still nervous. He still wants Eddie to like it, to like the way he fills them out, to like him.
“Can I see?” Eddie asks, eyes wide with awe and cheeks blushing the same pink as Steve’s panties.
Steve nods because he doesn’t think he’ll sound confident if he says anything out loud.
Eddie slides his pants off quickly, but his hands are gentle, almost reverent in the way they glide across Steve’s thighs.
He doesn’t say anything, just gestures for Steve to sit up so he can pull off his shirt.
When Steve’s been stripped down to only pink lace, he’s warm and anxious.
Eddie’s eyes don’t know where to go, zipping from his nipples barely visible through the thick floral pattern covering them down to the see-through wetness of his cock leaking through the thin material. Steve waits for him to say something, can’t interrupt whatever thoughts he’s having right now.
“You look beautiful, Stevie.”
It settles something in him, some last nerves that he knew wouldn’t go away without Eddie’s confirmation that this wasn’t a waste of time or money.
“I do?”
Eddie’s palm cups his cock through the panties. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. When did you get these?”
Steve shrugs because he doesn’t really remember anymore, and even if he did, it’s not important. What matters is that Eddie fucks him while he wears them, and that he goes to buy more on his next trip into the city.
It’s softer than Steve expected.
Eddie’s taking it slow, touching him everywhere, letting his fingers trace the patterns of the lace and smiling when Steve shivers under his attention. He seems mesmerized and Steve feels adored, loved.
Usually, Steve prefers feeling Eddie’s skin against his, but the way his clothed cock brushes against the lace panties, and the way his chest rubs against the bra, it’s a constant reminder that Steve did this to feel nice and for Eddie to look at him.
“Fuck me,” Steve whispers against his lips when he feels his stomach tighten. “Please fuck me.”
“Here? You sure you don’t want me to just suck you off?”
Steve thinks about the people crowded near the coolers and picnic tables not too far away.
“Yeah, here. I need you.”
He knows Eddie can’t resist that.
Now, Eddie’s quick, but no less gentle, as he opens Steve up on his fingers. The lube he keeps in the van is finally getting some use.
Steve arches into it, sighing out the pleasure Eddie gives, keeping as quiet as possible in case someone decides to come back to their car before they finish.
He’s got panties pushed to the side, his precum dribbling onto his stomach, and Eddie’s raspy voice in his ear telling him everything he’s gonna do to him when they’re home. Steve can get off with just this, has gotten off to this before.
“You ready?” Eddie finally asks him, pulling his fingers out so he can wipe them off and get his own pants pulled down.
“Been ready. Could’ve fucked me ten minutes ago,” Steve replies with a smirk.
His head is fuzzy, but the knowledge that they could be caught keeps him present, keeps him aware of everything happening in a way he knows he wouldn’t be if they were in the privacy of his room.
“I don’t like your tone,” Eddie jokes as he lines himself up, pushing the lace further out of the way. “I don’t wanna hurt you. You’re too soft for that tonight.”
“Someone’s feeling sappy,” Steve gasps as Eddie enters him slowly. He lifts his head to watch as Eddie bottoms out, his cock rubbing against the side of the panties. “Fuck.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do.” Eddie groans. “You feel so good. You look so good. I wanna eat you out when we get home.”
Steve nods as his hands grip the blankets. “Yeah. I have a-” Steve whines as Eddie shifts slightly, changing the angle so he brushes against Steve’s prostate. “I have a plug.”
“How the hell did you sneak that in here?”
“Yesterday when you were in the shower,” Steve laughs breathlessly. “Fuck, Eds. So good.”
Eddie is focused now, on not coming or coming, Steve can’t be sure.
“God, you have to wear these all the time,” Eddie groans as his hand creeps up to his chest, thumb rubbing against one of Steve’s nipples. “I want you in every color. Wanna see you in red, and blue, and black, and fuckin’-- what other colors are there?”
Steve giggles. “Purple…yellow…fuck.”
Steve’s gonna come and Eddie’s gonna follow right behind him, he can tell. Eddie’s thrusts are erratic but accurate, always hitting the spot that makes black spots appear in the corner of Steve’s vision and his limbs tingle with warmth and sunshine.
“You’re so good to me, fuck, Stevie. I love you,” Eddie squeezes his thigh as he parts his legs further. “You’re mine.”
“Yours. Yours,” Steve’s head falls back as he shakes through one of the most intense orgasms he’s ever had. He can’t catch his breath, and he feels overstimulated within seconds. “Eddie, need you.”
Eddie always gives him what he needs.
They’re both coming down still when someone bangs on the back door of the van. Steve sits up so quickly, he almost breaks Eddie’s nose.
“Yeah!” Steve yells, pushing Eddie off of him, barely containing a whimper when his cock is no longer filling him.
“If you two wanna get dressed before people start heading to their cars, now would be a good time!” Robin whisper-yells against the door.
“Got it!” Steve yells back, already trying to slide his pants back on despite the mess on his stomach and dripping from his hole.
Eddie places his hands on Steve’s, making him pause for a moment.
“Did you do this for me or for you?” He asks, suddenly shy.
Steve couldn’t help feeling a little proud of the fact that he was maybe the only person Eddie Munson ever got shy around.
“I did it for both of us. And I promise I’ll do it again if you let me get dressed so we don’t get caught.”
Eddie beams at him, kisses his cheek, and starts to pull his own pants back up, wincing when his boxers cling to his sensitive and wet dick.
“We’ve gotta plan better for these things,” he complains.
“I planned just fine.”
“The plug!” Eddie’s eyes widen in panic. “Where is it?”
“We don’t have time,” Steve groans, but he looks over his shoulder at the bag he keeps behind the passenger seat. It’s mostly full of snacks and Tylenol, sometimes a change of clothes if he knows he’s staying with Eddie. Last night he managed to get a plug in there. “Okay! Okay, fine. Just, go start the car.”
Eddie claps his hands together excitedly and grins. “As you wish, my liege.”
Steve rolls his eyes fondly. He reaches down to ease the plug in, biting back a whimper at the soreness he feels. They weren’t even rough tonight, couldn’t be, yet Steve feels like they just went for three rounds.
“If it hurts, don’t do it, sweetheart,” Eddie says from the driver’s seat.
“No, it’s good. I’m good,” he says as he pulls his pants up and slips his shirt on.
Eddie glances over his shoulder and frowns.
“Why the face?” Steve asks.
“I can’t see the lace.”
“Eddie…”
“I know! But I’m speeding on the way home.”
Steve slides into the passenger seat and looks out the window to make sure no one is directly next to them. When he doesn’t see anyone except Robin walking back towards the party, he leans over to kiss Eddie’s cheek.
“Thank you for letting me try something new.”
Eddie blinks over at him. “Thank me? Thank you. Holy shit, Steve. You’ve never been hotter than you are right now.”
“Okay, okay. Drive us home so I can ride you.”
“Fuck. Okay.” Eddie puts both hands on the steering wheel. “Focus, Eddie.”
“You’re such a dork,” Steve laughs.
“I’m living my dream right now.”
Steve can’t agree more.
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The Meet Cute - Law's Story - 5
Source for pic
The Great Pretender 5 🔞
Word Count: 7361
Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Law is a soft dom; you have bratty tendencies (not all the time); voice kink; praise kink; cursing; very suggestive behaviour and innuendo from the start; sexual tension; teasing; so much flirting; romance; slow-burn; fluff; slight angst; mature audiences (though explicit NSFW moments will be properly tagged on the chapter); possessive Law; protective Law; soft Law; teasing Law; manipulative Doflamingo; inappropriate Doflamingo; fake relationship trope; only one-bed trope; reader has some anxiety issues; reader is a control freak and perfectionist; modern day AU
Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.
Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Law (your father's doctor) start to build a flirty friendship because of your father’s procedure. So much so that when he’s invited to Baby 5’s wedding (his cousin), he asks you to be his date. His uncle Doflamingo - who is filthy rich - is very adamant on finding a suitable wife for him. Seeing as he wants to avoid that, he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend.
Notes: Guys this chapter is biiiig! I'm so sorry. But I didn't want to cut it short and remove such a fun interaction at the end... It has a lot of important information going on but it's a bit NSFW, k? Not too explicit, but still... 🔞
Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil
Masterlist
|Chapter 4|
You barely see Law after that encounter because of your conflicting schedules. He texts you the details for the wedding, stressing the need to dress to impress and tries to offer you money to buy dresses but you refuse vehemently saying there’s no need.
You have a friend with the classiest, sluttiest closet you've ever known: Nami.
She, however, forces you to buy new lingerie to go with the dresses because there's no way you can wear satin with granny panties underneath. Only sultry lace. You almost think you got away with not telling her who your date for the wedding would be, but you bump into Kaya and Usopp, and learn that Law informed Kaya of his absence because of a wedding he's going to attend.
Nami can add two and two.
And she does it in front of Kaya and Usopp which renders the rest of your afternoon useless while you are teased relentlessly.
On the plus side, Nami's dresses are really beautiful, fit you perfectly and you both find the perfect colours to complement your complexion. You pack extra dresses, just in case.
And extra panties.
Law tells you that you're to leave Friday morning because you have to be at the Donquixote household in the afternoon and the drive to the city still takes a while - you manage to do extra hours at work on Thursday to compensate for your absence. You'll sleep there for three nights, the rehearsal dinner is on Saturday, the wedding and reception are on Sunday, and then you’ll come back Monday morning - you'll compensate for those hours on Tuesday.
That means you'll spend about four days pretending to be Law's girlfriend.
After the heated moment you had while practising, you're feeling both apprehensive and excited about the prospect. You've had a taste of what he's been telling you, how rewarding it can be to let go of your control, to let someone else take over. It felt good, freeing and so pleasurable.
And he barely even showed you the tip of the iceberg.
You're aching for more of his relentless teasing, you're pretty sure you can kiss him faster this time. You just want to taste him again.
Sighing, you decide to finish packing. It's going to be a long weekend. As you take the dresses out of the bag Nami put them in, your eyes widen at the unexpected surprise she left there.
A box of condoms.
Sneaky Nami. Does she think she's witty and funny?
Joke's on her, you're taking them anyway!
Deep down, you're hoping you get to use them.
-*-
Law greets you normally from inside the car, as if nothing happened and he wasn't probing your throat with his tongue earlier this week.
You, on the other hand, immediately lose it at the sight of his smirk.
Fuck. He knows exactly what kind of effect he has on you. He knows he's got you wrapped around his little finger. And that's why you're not going to make this easy on him.
“Hi.”
You exclaim tensely as you approach the car, already struggling to figure out how to open the door to his sleek, black Tesla. Yet, Law doesn't give you any time to make a fool of yourself as he gets out of the car and opens the door for you. You can't help but notice how casual and sexy he looks. Black jeans and a yellow t-shirt, paired with expensive sunglasses that fit him like he’s a movie star - that's the whole look, and it drives you crazy.
He sees you checking him out, so he leans in and places a soft kiss on your cheek as his hand grips your waist, pulling you towards him. “Hi, sweetheart, you look gorgeous.”
Freezing in place, you feel your cheeks burning from the intimacy of his greeting. Your father watches you both from the porch, coffee mug in hand and a silly grin on his face.
“How are you doing, Mr. S.?” Law's eyes barely leave yours, an amused glint making them twinkle and sparkle.
“Oh, I'm mighty fine! I'm greatly enjoying the show!” Shanks replies, his shit-eating grin still in place and you already regret sharing with him what you were doing this weekend. Truth be told, you didn't exactly tell him you were going as Law's girlfriend, you just said you were going as his date, in a friendly manner, so Law could avoid his uncle. But after the way the doctor greeted you, you're sure your father now firmly believes there's more than friendship between you.
You mumble curses at both men as Law lets go of you to place your bags in the trunk of the car. Then he lays your dresses neatly in the backseat, near his suits, so they don't wrinkle too much.
“Bug, be careful!” Shanks admonishes from the porch.
“Yes, yes, I will! Call if you need anything.” You say, mostly out of habit more than anything else, because your father would be much better off calling Ace or Beckman if he needed immediate assistance since you'll be far away.
“I won't. Have fun!” You wave him goodbye as you enter the car and Law closes your door, but you watch as his grin widens. “Law, take care of my baby girl, will you?”
Law then closes the backdoor of the car and chuckles. “Sure will, Mr. S.” He waves and enters the car, taking his seat and burning you with his amber gaze and sexy smirk. His hand lands on your exposed thigh and he squeezes softly. “I'll take good care of her.” He whispers, earning a muffled gasp as you purse your lips to contain the incriminating sound.
As he chuckles again, fastens his seat belt, and inputs the new destination into the GPS, you take a deep breath, steadying your heart rate. You're determined to not let him hold the same control over you as he did the other day.
Very determined.
But as he backs the car away, completely disregarding the cameras on the dash and placing his tattooed bare arm behind your seat to look back - dark, tinted sunglasses in place and an unreadable expression - you sigh and close your eyes, your determination leaving you in a heartbeat.
This is going to be a long ride.
-*-
As soon as he enters the interstate, you fish out your tablet from your purse, turning it on and adjusting the brightness so you can read the screen.
“You're really going to ignore me? Am I less interesting than all your book boyfriends?” He says, eyes fixed on the road since there's a bit of traffic.
You try to hide a small blush by adjusting your sunglasses. He's not right. He's way more interesting than any book boyfriend. He's real.
“I'm not going to read.” You ignore his comment, trying to steer away from every chance he gets to gain the upper hand. “I'm opening our list so we can cover the important questions that were left unanswered the other day. Since it's a long ride, we can study. And maybe make up a story about how we met and fell in love. A believable one.” You mumble.
Law scoffs. “Again with that list. Fine, if we must.”
“We must.” You reinforce your statement. “We still haven't covered our personal stories… maybe that's important? It could come up.”
You glance at him and notice that familiar crease forming in the middle of his eyebrows. You know he moved in with his uncles at ten but you have no idea how his parents died, and that's something a girlfriend would know. You’ve shared everything about your parents and their divorce with him already, but there's still your story about Ichiji, which you're not so keen on sharing.
He sighs deeply, his face falling into that stoic expression. “Later. Also, why do we need a love story? Isn't ours perfect?”
The tablet you're holding almost falls to the ground as your head whips to the side. “Ours? What do you mean?”
The smirk returns as his foot presses the gas and he passes two slow cars in the right lane. “You're the daughter of my surgery patient. As soon as I laid eyes on you, I knew you were special. When you passed out in my office while yelling at me, I was certain. When you fumbled and made a fool of yourself just because I was examining you, I knew there was no way out of it. When your expression intensified as I called you a ‘good girl’, I was deeply ensnared. The rest came naturally. I helped your father, we got close, we fell in love.”
You're staring at him, mouth hanging open and eyes wide. Is this how he feels? Or is this pretence? Because the way he told the story was really believable. The thrumming of your heart is slower and steadier than when he's teasing you, something much more grounding than the usual feeling, but no less intense.
“What do you think? Is it believable enough or should I add more details?”
Oh… It’s not real.
“No,” You clear your throat, “it's perfect. Everyone will buy it.”
You did.
-*-
“There's another important thing we still haven't discussed. I don't think you covered it in your professional-looking spreadsheet.” Law says when you're taking a break from asking him questions, trying to memorise some of his answers so you don't slip up when it really matters.
He sounds serious, so you take your eyes off your tablet to look at him. “Oh? I covered everything.” You say with a slight edge.
Law's low chuckle is not condescending. “Yes, you covered daily things, information, wants and hopes for the future.” He takes his eyes off the road for a second to look you in the eyes. “You didn't cover boundaries.”
Your mind instantly takes you to the heated moment you shared when he kissed you. If you had any boundaries set then, would he still have done it? You don't want to go without his touch.
It's far too addictive.
“Oh. That.”
“Yeah, that. It's important. What are your boundaries? What is off the table? Besides sex, obviously. We don't need to do it to fool anyone.” You lock your tablet, fixing your eyes on the road ahead and pondering. He's right, sex is a big boundary. But what are your other boundaries?
“Well… I… I don't mind doing what we did in your house.” Why does your voice sound so small?
“Speak up, sweetheart, don't be afraid to tell me what you want.” He uses that commanding tone that sends shivers down your spine and twists your stomach.
Taking a deep breath, you steady your voice, fixing your eyes on the licence plate of the car in front of you. “I think we should kiss… because of appearances… and I like all the teasing, and the touching… I don't mind having to beg for it.” You whisper again, cheeks ablaze and heart pounding.
“It's nothing to be ashamed of. I also like it when you say please.” Fuck.
“Is the AC on?” You stammer and he chuckles low, setting the AC higher.
“What else?” You open your mouth and close it a few times. This one is a little harder to get out. Law takes a look at you and smirks. “You like it when I call you ‘good girl’, right?”
Fuuuuck! The voice! It's his voice! It makes everything - better! - worse!
“Yes!” The words leave your lips in a hurry and you take a deep breath again. Why is this so hard?
You never had to speak about these things with Ichiji, about what you want or like. You had ‘normal’ sex where he focused on getting himself off. He didn't especially chase your pleasure, not if he wasn't in the mood for foreplay. But this conversation isn't about sex, anyway, it's about boundaries so you should focus!
“How about touching? Where can't I touch you?”
“Erm… Below the waist?” You try, tentatively. Thinking about his hands on your body is already leaving your brain in a puddle of mush.
“So I can't touch your legs?”
“You can!” Another blush creeps in. “And you can touch my butt too…” That sentence comes out as a mumble but he hears it.
“So it's just your vagina I can't touch, right?” He’s amused by your embarrassment and you know it.
“Yes, doctor.” A loud sigh leaves your lips. “How about you? Where can't I touch?” Time to turn the tables!
“Sweetheart, you can't touch me anywhere. I'm in control, remember?” His smirk is unbearable. And unbearably hot.
“That's not fair, Law!”
“You're right, it’s not. But you’ll only touch me if I allow you to, if you’re being good.” He lets out another chuckle, a low rumble. “The same rules as you, then.”
“So I can’t touch your vagina?” The smirk on your lips is teasing and you both share a laugh.
“Yes, that’s what I meant.” A smirk of amusement still lingers on your lips when he asks you the next question. “So everything else is fine? What we did before? The teasing, the touching?” He asks one more time.
“Yes. All of that is fine.” It’s welcomed, even. “Should we… should we save these interactions for when we’re n public?”
“I don’t think we can very well do that in public.” He teases.
“You’re right. Maybe when we feel like it?” You have to admit you relished in the complete surrender of control you experienced the other day. You see yourself getting slowly addicted to that feeling. “I've been thinking and what you did the other day soothed me… I wouldn't mind exploring that… Besides, I think whatever interaction that serves to deepen our pretence is…” Needed, desired, wanted! “Beneficial to our act.”
“Oh.” He sounds surprised. “You want to be spontaneous? Where is your need to control every little situation?”
Your hands fidget with the hem of your dress, straightening it and then picking at a thread as your mind wanders. You’re trying to let go, like he said. Trying to surrender. Trying to let him help you do that. But you don’t quite know how to answer him. You want his help, but you don’t want to impose. You don’t want to force him to help you. Does that even make sense?
You feel it even before you see it. Law’s hand sits on your leg, a bit above the knee and he squeezes. “It’s alright. One step at a time. There’s no rush.”
-*-
The ride keeps going at a steady pace, you fill in the blanks of some seemingly unimportant questions like: ‘when was your first kiss, and with whom?’ or ‘do you want to have kids?’ Meaningless stuff normal couples would talk about. Law gets tired of the questions pretty quickly and just as the GPS indicates that you're about halfway to your destination, he drives the car to a rest area so he can stretch his legs and asks you if you want some coffee.
You couldn't agree more. Your legs feel stiff and your butt aches.
Law puts the car in the fast charger as you both head inside to grab some coffee and use the restroom. Neither of you wants to sit down again, but, conveniently, there are trees surrounding the whole rest area and there's a path connecting the entirety of it, so you both decide to walk it, to pass the time and stretch your legs.
After a few moments, you try again. “About our pasts, Law, as my boyfriend I would have told you all about my ex…” You decide to start, since talking about his parents’ death must be very hard for him.
He nods and glances at you so you know he's listening. “We were together for around four years, having moved in together after one year of dating. He proposed to me last year and we were already planning the wedding, it was pretty serious and I genuinely thought I was in love. He's the son of a very powerful man and I worked for his father at a very prestigious company.” Ichiji's name is at the tip of your tongue, you could just say it. But you're certain Law knows who he is and maybe that's a bit more information than you're willing to share right now. Talking about an anonymous asshole beats talking about someone he can picture doing terrible things to you.
Taking a deep steadying breath after a small sip of coffee, grounds you as you continue, the soft crunch of gravel beneath your feet lending you some sort of comfort. “I found out he was cheating on me and a little research proved he had always been cheating on me, since the beginning, I was just too blind to see it. He was manipulative, controlling and a bit possessive - all in terrible, demeaning and very dangerous ways. He made me feel like it was my fault that he cheated, that I wasn't good enough for him, that I would never be good enough for anybody. Instead of feeling safe around him, I always felt on edge, it was… it was unbearable.”
You don't even realise that you’ve stopped on the path, your eyes fixed somewhere else, not focused on anything. The pain from the past still manages to hinder and hurt you. It's Law's touch that brings you back. His hand on your waist, pulling you to him helps you remove yourself from those hurtful events. He leans his head to your ear and whispers, his breath hot against your shivering skin.
“If this were real, I would make you forget all about that asshole.” His fingers dip against your skin and he grits his teeth. “There's nothing I can do about him now, but I can help you overcome the pain.” You nod slowly, your mind hazy as to what's real or not. “If this were real, I would never make you feel like that. You'd be all I have ever wanted. I would make you see that you're more than enough, that you're everything.”
Your breath hitches in your throat at the intensity of his voice as you feel the familiar prickle of tears in your eyes. Your mind is reeling and your heart is racing again. This is too confusing.
“Law,” you whisper, blinking and taking a small step back but not pulling away from his grasp. “We need some sort of signal, some way to know we're faking or being real. It's too much. I can't handle this, I need a semblance of control.”
He grunts, pulling away from you as his fingers tousle his black hair and you both resume your walk. “You're right.”
“Should it be verbal? Like a safe word? Or something physical?”
“Verbal might be too obvious. Doflamingo is very sharp. We have to use something physical. Not too conspicuous, something of meaning to both of us.” Law looks at you, trying to come up with something. “Do you always wear earrings?”
He eyes your ears, you currently have small hoops on - quite similar to the ones he's wearing. “Usually, yes. I can wear them all weekend, I have different ones to go with the dresses.”
“Okay.” He says as he stops, making you stop too. Then he takes a step closer to you, his hand raising near your ear. “When I'm faking it, I'll start with this.” His fingers touch your ear, twirling your earring as his lips curve upwards. “And then I'll do whatever action I was going to do to pretend. You can do the same to me, I won't take off my earrings either.”
You nod as he drops his hand and you raise yours, to give it a try. Your eyes pierce his and his amber gaze is quite soft. Softer than you've ever seen him. Could it be because of what you shared about Ichiji? Your fingers graze his ear and you notice the way his jaw clenches at the touch.
You haven't touched him like this yet. He's the one who’s been doing all the touching. You just remember feeling his taut muscles against your palms as he was kissing you senseless. But no light touches, no teasing. How will he react further?
Your digits circle the loop of one of his earrings and, as you drop your hand, you let the tip of your nails lightly scratch his neck. He hisses with a deep inhale as he grabs your hand mid-air, to stop you. “Yes, like that. It works.”
You got under his skin.
It's not just you who gets affected by light touches, you can bend him to your will, though you doubt very much he'll ever let you do it.
You resume your walk, but he doesn't let go of your hand. You're too afraid to ask if it's real or fake, but since you both used the signal now, it must be fake.
It's his turn to speak but he doesn't seem willing at all. “Law you don't have to share. Maybe it's something you don't want to say to your girlfriend, it's okay. I'm sure your own family understands how hard it is for you. I would understand too, if this were real.” You give his hand a gentle squeeze and he lets out a deep breath and a slight nod.
Your walk continues in peaceful silence for a while.
“Both my parents were doctors. They were wonderful parents, full of life.” The crease in the middle of his brows is there again, but so is a very tender, longing smile. “I had a younger sister, too. She was very bright and happy.”
Had? Has she passed too? You feel your heart sinking as he continues his story.
“There was a fire, a house fire, something completely accidental. They all died. I was with uncle Cora, he and Doffy were my mother's siblings.” He stops speaking, his jaw clenches and you can feel sweat in his hand. It's the most out of control you've seen him until now and yet, he still seems collected and cool. “That's the gist of it. I moved in with my uncles and the rest is history.”
He has shared the rest with you. About how kind and amiable Cora is and how ruthless and powerful Doffy is. He doesn't seem to fear Doflamingo, it's a lingering respect. But what you sense most when he speaks of him is disgust or resentment. So you realise that he hasn't told you the whole story. There's more to learn about Trafalgar Law. Maybe not about his parents or their death - that seems pretty straightforward - but perhaps some other interactions he's had with Doflamingo while growing up.
He doesn't share and you don't press. If he doesn't feel the need for you to know, it's because it's something he wouldn't share lightly.
“I'm so sorry.” You mutter as you squeeze his hand again.
A few moments pass in silence again and you discard your empty coffee cups in a trash can along the path. The car is in sight and Law's phone tells him it's fully charged so you're ready to go.
“Oh, Law?” He stops near the car to stare at you. “How long should we say we've been dating? It's a pretty important question we need to know. And if it's true, maddening love, we need to have had some time to let it mature and-...”
“Two months. I met you around two and a half months ago. I don't need much more time than that to realise you're special and you're someone I want to be with.” He shrugs as if he's said the most natural thing in the world and opens the car door for you, waiting for you to get inside before closing it.
You can't help but notice that he didn't touch your earrings when he said that.
-*-
Ever since you left the freeway and the GPS timer keeps getting smaller as you approach your destination, Law has been quieter. The flirtatious, teasing demeanour he uses with you has been completely replaced by his normal stoic expression. The crease in his forehead deepens as you approach Donquixote’s household.
You try to engage in small talk, but the only response you get are grunts and nods, so you don't press further. He blasts his music and you don't complain. It might be his way of coping. If it were you in his shoes, you know you'd be close to a panic attack by now, but he's pretty composed, considering.
Only someone who's spent time with him, getting to know him, learning his little tells, can realise he's upset, anxious and nervous. You know his uncle will pick it up immediately.
Law takes a deep sigh as the GPS announces the destination and stops the car in front of a large gate, near the intercom, waiting to be buzzed inside. You look at him, placing your hand on his leg because he's gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles are almost white.
“Hey, I've got you.” You mimic the words he used on you when he was operating on Shanks. His gaze softens and he breathes deeply, his shoulders relaxing a bit as the gates open wide.
Your eyes dart around in awe. You see a grand mansion at the end of the road, but the way there is adorned with trees and flowers of all kinds. The gardens are immense and opulent. Just like the man who owns them. You peek at the top of a few tents on the back of the house, probably where the wedding reception will take place, and the gardens are buzzing with activity. Gardeners polish the last touches on the flowers, while servants make last minute preparations for the decorations. They all seem tense, as if nothing can be out of place.
And if Doflamingo likes control as much as Law does, then there really can't be anything out of place.
Law parks the car as you see two blonde men at the top of the steps leading to the mansion. They're huge. Law is tall, they're taller. He inhales deeply as his eyes meet yours, a glint in them, the crease still parting his brow, and then he touches your earring. “Are you ready?”
You nod and ignore the twists and turns in your stomach, the discomposed rhythm of your heart, the many scenarios in your head where everything goes wrong. Instead, you smile brightly, repeat his gesture and squeeze his hand. “Let's sell this, Law.”
He nods and gets out of the car, you're about to do the same but discover that your door has a child lock. As Law moves around the car to open the door for you, you realise that it serves this single purpose and you can't help but to blush. In four years of your relationship, not once has Ichiji held a door open for you. In less than a week of a fake relationship, Law does it constantly.
He holds out his hand to help you out and you smile sweetly at him, unconsciously passing a hand through your hair to straighten it as you adjust your summer dress. Cora - you assume, since you know the other man is Doflamingo - runs down the steps to greet his nephew, but slips and falls spectacularly, bumping his butt on at least three steps before landing awkwardly on his knees.
Your hands fly to your mouth to stifle a gasp and Law shakes his head as he approaches his uncle.
“Cora… come on! Again?” He admonishes as the blonde man laughs and pats his butt.
“I'm fine, I'm fine.” Law helps him up and both men embrace. It's a long hug during which Cora whispers something to Law, who clenches his teeth and nods, hugging him back.
It's sweet. They really care for each other.
Then Cora sets his eyes on you, they glimmer as he lets go of Law and with one stride, he's by your side, exclaiming your name and holding you in a tight embrace. “Welcome, welcome! It's so nice to meet you! It's been a while since Law brought a girl home!”
Oh… Interesting. He didn't mention any other important relationship, in fact, when you were covering past flings, he told you he doesn't really do the girlfriend thing. He just dates, sometimes. But he apparently had an interesting relationship before.
However, you don't act surprised. You're pretty sure Doflamingo is watching you closely, even though he doesn't make a move to come down the steps. You'll go to him. It's as if he's the King of the mansion and you're just his loyal subjects, bowing to him.
“I'm flattered.” You smile softly as Cora steps back. “What Law and I have is special.” This was a rehearsed phrase. But you deliver it perfectly, looking lovingly at Law, who smiles back at you, his hands in his pockets and sunglasses hanging on his shirt collar.
“I believe you!” He grabs your arm to help you up the stairs, though you sense you'll be the one keeping him from falling, and then he turns to Law and mouths - in what he thinks is a veiled whisper but is anything but that - “She's breathtaking, Law! Well done!”
Law chuckles and shakes his head at his uncle but, as soon as you're all facing Doflamingo’s inquisitive gaze, Law tenses again. Cora leaves you to join his brother's side and Law is instantly connected to you, his hand on your waist, pulling you to him. You notice his fingers digging deeper and harder than any of the times he's grabbed you, but you don't acknowledge his discomfort.
“Well, well, well…” Doflamingo’s voice is deep, commanding and imposing and you can't help the way your hairs bristle when he lets out a low chuckle. “Hello dearest nephew… and how interesting.”
What is supposed to be interesting? You hope he hasn't recognized you from any of the Vinsmokes’ events! Maybe you should have shared with Law who your ex was. It seems like it's something he should know. There’s no point in worrying about it now! You can't let your distress show, especially because Law keeps tensing up by your side, so you have to ground him.
“Good to meet you, sir.” You drawl, a bit embarrassed at the way his piercing gaze hasn't left you since the moment you arrived.
“Oh,” he chuckles again and this time looks at Law, a terrifying grin showing all his teeth. “Polite.” He nods and turns back to you, slightly raising his chin to emphasise your height difference. “Good girl.” He purrs and winks.
What?
You immediately tense up and Law squeezes your waist harder.
“Uncle Doffy, we're really tired from the trip and the car ride. We'll retire and freshen up before dinner. Then we can get to know each other, how about that?” You can sense a slight change in the tone of Law's voice. What was commanding and assertive is now strained and measured. The crease in his forehead is deep and his scowl twists his expression.
“But of course! Come on, come on kids! Let me take you to your room!” Cora takes over as some servants bring in your luggage.
Law starts to walk, dragging you with him and he brushes his lips against your temple in what's supposed to be a loving gesture. His whisper is barely audible: “Relax.” You glance behind and catch Doflamingo still tilting his head. His grin is unsettling and disconcerting and, for the first time since you agreed to do this for Law, you start to doubt yourself. “Real or not, I won't let him hurt you.”
You don't know if he means physically or mentally. Either way, you're not prepared to suffer any attempt. And the way Law says that… It's like he already knows Doflamingo will do something. And that frightens you.
Yet you take a deep breath and try to relax as Law guides you through large maze-like corridors, following Cora until you reach a big white door with golden handles. His uncle opens the door with a smile. “Ta-da!” He exclaims, opening both arms to show you the room.
You stifle a gasp and turn it into a surprised expression. Law squeezes you tighter and smiles at his uncle.
“It's the honeymoon suite for you two lovebirds!” He chuckles and scratches the back of his head. “Well, not quite, we're not a hotel, so it's not really a honeymoon suite, it's a room with some amenities like a jacuzzi in the bathroom and privacy from the other rooms so you can… you know,” He chuckles some more, “talk as loudly as you want without being heard.”
Law groans at his uncle but a tentative chuckle escapes your lips at his attempt to lighten the mood. Your amusement is short-lived, however, as you survey the room. It might be private and away from the other rooms, but it's not that big. There's a huge bed and two cushioned armchairs, a closet, a vanity and a desk. No couch. Just one bed. For both of you.
At least it's a big bed.
“Thank you, Cora. We've got it from here.” Law smiles softly at his uncle and thanks the staff who brought in your luggage. When everyone leaves, he closes the door softly, leaning against it and briefly closing his eyes.
You take a deep breath and set your purse on one of the armchairs. “Well that was intense.”
Law's chuckle starts low and quickly turns into a groan as he looks at you. “I'm sorry, but I can guarantee you he will be much more inconvenient.”
You snort and roll your eyes. “Is that even possible?”
“Trust me, it is.”
You both laugh away the tension of the meeting and, after a brief time, as you're hanging your dresses in the closet, you speak again. “Your uncle Cora is lovely.”
Law is in the bathroom emptying his bag of products on the counter. “He's amazing. He's like a father to me.”
“I could tell.” You mutter. “What are the plans for tonight?”
Law senses the slight tremble in your voice as his head peeks from the bathroom. “Oh? Why? Do you need to rehearse everything beforehand?”
A sigh escapes your lips as you close the closet door to face him. “Considering Doflamingo is breathing down our necks, perhaps it's not a bad idea?”
“It's just a family dinner. Baby 5 will come too, along with the groom. Possibly the groomsmen, bridesmaids and some of Doffy’s associates. I bailed on the last board meeting and I'm pretty sure he'll want to bore me to death with company issues. Also, I predict that Doffy will ask personal questions while Cora will want to know if and when we'll get married and if and when we're gonna have kids.”
Law joins you in the room and you smile at him. “Cora is really sweet.”
Raising an eyebrow, an amused glint dances in his gaze. “Should I be jealous?” His voice drops lower and a snicker curls your lip as a consequence of that. You're feeling bratty.
“Maybe. I do like blondes.” Law grunts, reading immediately into what you're trying to do. “And he's so tall and big. I'm sure he'd make me feel small and-...” Law takes two strides, pushing you gently and pinning you against the closet door. One of his hands rests on the closet beside your head, while the other grabs your chin tightly, tilting it up so you can meet his eyes. “Weak…” You finish your sentence, cheeks already flushed and ablaze.
Law's eyes glint with mischief, but his lips are pursed tight. He uses the hand near your head to brush your earring.
The signal.
“Do I have to remind you of who you belong to?” His voice drawls from his lips, his face is so close that you can feel his hot breath against your skin.
Your fingers graze his earring lightly to use the signal, but his low hum warns you to return your hand where it was. No teasing is allowed on your part. “I was just commenting on how handsome and charming he is. I have eyes.” You know you're playing a part, you know it's fake, but you have no audience. This is for yourselves only. And you can't help the tiny sliver of anxiety tugging at your brain, telling you to keep pushing. Push enough so you can let go.
So you can surrender. You need to surrender.
Law's eyes darken as he presses his body closer to you. You can feel his heat against you, but the fire in his eyes burns ten times hotter.
“You do, but they have to be on me all the time. You don't want to misbehave, do you, sweetheart?” His lips brush the skin of your collarbone, the hand on your chin tilts your head to the side as he nibbles your jaw, his tongue wet and teasing.
Fuck. This is what you wanted, right? Now you have to deal with it.
“You know what happens to bad girls?” His hand lowers as he traces down the middle of your breasts, trailing to your belly, dropping down some more - so close to where you want him, but you know he won’t touch - and then settles on your hip.
“What?” You whisper, dying to know, anticipation making you tremble and shiver.
Or is it his touch that's doing that?
“They don't get what they want.” His teeth graze your earlobe. “They don't get what they need.” His hand raises your dress, fingers curling the fabric as his palm settles against your thigh, eliciting a choked moan from your lips. “They don't get what they crave.” His lips hover yours and you lean forward to capture them but he moves his head back, tutting you in a disapproving manner.
“No, no, sweetheart. No kiss for you. You're being a brat.”
You swallow the lump in your throat as you squirm and press your thighs together. There's a fire burning in your belly that needs to be put out; a devastating thirst that needs quenching.
“I can beg, Law. I can be a good girl.”
Fuck, where did this come from?
The sound he makes is half-grunt, half-growl and it reverberates through his chest, making you gasp as you grab his neck, trying to pull him in for a kiss, trying to erase what your mouth said that your brain doesn't want to acknowledge. However, Law is faster, and stronger. His hands grab yours, pinning them above your head. One big hand of his is enough to hold your wrists, and he's barely using his strength.
He shows you that slightly unhinged grin of his and you mewl at the sight, biting your lower lip. That grin right there, you realise, it's your favourite. “You say one thing sweetheart, and then you do another. We can't have that, can we?”
You shake your head, your eyes pleading for your mouth. Law's free hand returns to your side, he lowers it tantalisingly slowly as his thumb brushes circles on your dress, but his fingers burn so much that it's like they're pressing directly on your skin.
“I told you that bad girls don't get rewarded.” He practically purrs against your ear. He does something sinful with his tongue on your earlobe and you close your eyes in abandon, arching your back and giving way to a wanton moan. His hand clenches your wrists tighter as his unholy tongue continues to tease you. He licks your neck and collarbone, then goes lower towards your cleavage. You can't stop the pants and gasps that escape your lips, making you tremble.
There's a pressing need in your core screaming to be filled, or touched, or teased. Something, anything! But he's adamant about not fulfilling that need.
“I promise I'll be good, Law.” You whisper. “Just…” Touch me. “Kiss me. Please!”
His lips hover over yours as he slots his knee between your legs. You fight the urge to ride his thigh, to grind your core against his taut muscles. You're pretty sure you could come undone from just that. “Is this what you want?” His breath is hot against your lips, his lips barely grazing yours.
But now you know better than to push your luck. You stay still, your eyes nearly watering from the throbbing need.
“Yes! Please.” Your whisper sounds like a prayer, but he's a relentless deity and shows it by pulling back, a smirk curling his lips.
“You don't deserve it, sweetheart. You misbehaved. I warned you.” How can he be this cool and collected while you're falling apart? A mess of quivering bones and frail muscles? His hand grabs the back of your thigh, lifting your leg easily and slotting himself against you, giving you a taste, a sliver of the friction you want - need! “Bad girls are left wanting more.”
He presses further, his hand still groping the back of your thigh, fingers spreading over it. Your mind goes blank. You can feel his length pressed against you, you didn't think he'd do it, is this pushing your boundaries? He’s not touching you. And you want him there! Besides, this is fake.
Right?
But he's doing it. And you desperately want more.
“Bad girls get teased until they can't take it any more.” He bites your lower lip, not hard enough to draw blood, but just enough to jolt you and shake your senses. “If this were real, sweetheart,” he begins, his voice huskier and raspier than ever, needier even, it seems. “I would bend you to my will and have you on the brink of exhaustion, pleads and prayers escaping your lips in mewls and moans, before I took you right here, against this closet, until you begged for release between screams and cries of desperation.”
The image he paints is so real that you almost feel yourself snap, the coil within you starts to unravel as he presses just a bit further, his lips hovering just above yours, his fingers digging into the plushness of your thighs.
“But this is not real, and you've been a very good girl so far.” As his lips finally crash against yours, a soft thrust of his hip pushes him against your clothed clit. The friction of the seams on his jeans hits you just right, and you snap without any kind of warning.
Your back arches and you moan into his kiss like never before as your body clenches and squirms, your leg wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper into you. A freeing, warm sensation fills you, building like a flame, higher and higher and he takes it all. His tongue slides against yours, swallowing your moans as if he needs them to breathe. His hands grip you tight and he's still pressed flush against you.
It's all too much.
It's not enough.
And it's over too soon.
He parts the kiss and you're both left panting. Law doesn't meet your gaze as he removes his hands and composes your dress, pulling back slightly, while ensuring you can stand on your own. Clearly he overdid what he meant to do.
“Are you alright?” He asks, worry lacing his words as you struggle to catch your breath. You should feel embarrassed. You’re in a fake relationship and yet, here you stand, in post-orgasmic bliss wondering if he regrets what just happened. But you’re not ashamed, far from it. You feel free.
“Yes.” Your voice still comes out in shaky gasps, but your legs - though wobbly - manage to sustain you.
Law nods and clears his throat. “I'm… I'm going to take a shower, to get ready for dinner. Unless you want to go first?”
“No, no. You go. I… I need to choose what I’ll wear first and-... you go.”
He nods, turning away from you, walking towards the bathroom, his pace more erratic than usual.
What just happened?
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-> When they reject you…
... but it wasn't a confession (WOOSAN version)
Genre: angst-ish, bittersweet endings, unrequited love (hard to say from each side tho)
Tags/ Warnings: angsty; bittersweet endings; implied bullying in San's part not done by him; implied body shame in San's part not done by him; San's a coward and don't do anything about it; i don't even now what to say about wooyoung's part, that's a warning?
WC: 1,4 k
N/A: I said that I'd make more of these and here they are (after 8 whole months, I'm so sorry). I didn't forget about the lovely people that loved the MATZ version, this is for you guys!
Please reblog my work if you enjoyed it, it helps to reach other people <3
MATZ Version
Ateez Masterlist
JEONG WOOYOUNG (정우영)
You heard the soft buzz of your phone on your beside table, yet the only thing you did was turn around and adjust the thick blanket under your chin. It was getting cold by the minute and a simple thought crossed your mind before you closed your eyes once again, maybe you should see him one last time.
If anyone told you a week ago that you’d be ignoring Wooyoung’s calls, you wouldn’t believe it, but here you are. You could’ve just block him for once and for all, but a little sick part within you liked to hear the proof of his neediness and desperation. Every call were the solid evidence that it wasn’t all in your head, in fact, he was the once who always seemed to cling to you.
The silence filled the room for barely five seconds, then the phone started ringing again.
You wish you could say you slept well that night, knowing that he wouldn’t leave any voicemails, that little prideful jerk. Instead, the same scene appeared over and over in your mind.
You still could feel his hands around your waist. He made it all so casual, natural and comfortable, like it was supposed to be that way between friends. However, you knew he only ever called you late at night, sometimes just to talk when he couldn’t fall asleep, others to beg you to come pick him up and somewhere in between those moments, he made you believe you were special to him. How special or in what way was a work in progress, you were unsure if his actions should worry you, if maybe it was more than friendly, until he made it all clear a week ago.
It was his birthday, so you did everything you could to make a memorable night, even baked the giant birthday cake yourself. Sometime after the loud music turned into background noise, he found you by the kitchen, then asked you to wait upstairs for him. His room was the only one locked in the entire house, so he left you with the key after sending one of his cheeky little winks your way. You still remember how giddy you felt, because you just received the perfect opportunity to give him that one watch he was thinking about buying it for months now.
The whole day you couldn’t really get a hold of him, something you can not blame Wooyoung of all people for, still, it was dangerously close to midnight. Was it too much to ask for some time with you best friend on his birthday? No, no it wasn’t. You weren’t asking for anything much than a simple conversation and a little bit of appreciation, something you were yet to hear from him. So you waited as much as your patience allowed.
Bu he didn’t show up.
And you knew exactly where he was, most likely having the time of his life surrounded by all your mutual friends, and you did love that about him. You’d always say that he was like your personal ray of sunshine, people like him would always have the spotlight and you also knew he enjoyed that very much. How can you wish something else for him on his day? You wish he had all the fun in the world and maybe share a bit with you as well.
So after waiting for fifteen minutes, you decided that you gave him enough grace already. Wooyoung could get lost in the moment sometimes, so you decided you were going to remind him in the pettiest way you could think of.
But none of that mattered when you laid eyes on him, standing at the bottom of the stairs. He held close one of your mutual closest friend, closer then you remembered them together before. They both were in a small circle by the wall, laughing at something he whispered. Were they a thing now? How did you not know? But there was a larger question taking all the space in your head. Is this how you look like beside him? You were used to the closeness, you enjoyed the intimacy, it could easily be you there right now.
Yet, it wasn’t you and it won’t be.
So why the hell can’t he accept that and deal with the consequences of his own actions? You were giving him what he asked for, space.
Still, he’s calling again.
CHOI SAN (최산)
The moment your existence intertwined with San’s back in college, it felt like people’s perception of you changed all of a sudden. You were nobody to most, then became somebody to him and as a consequence, someone to his friends and acquaintances. It would be fascinating to watch if it wasn’t your own life and if it wasn’t so freaking depressing. A frequent comment you’d hear was ‘how odd the two of you look next to each other’, and there was nothing you could do against a sly remark like that, specially when it comes from his so called friends, and you knew San always took that as a light joke about your differences in personalities.
You don’t remember how it happened, one day you sat beside him at the very back of a class you, so desperately, wanted to skip but couldn’t, the other day you both were attached to the hip. And how could you not? Never in you life you thought you’d describe a man as sweet, not with you at least, but there he was, every day, proving you wrong.
To be in the vicinity as someone like him was a once in a lifetime kind of experience, but to be his friend was another thing entirely. San was one of those people that can make you feel at the top of the world when he pays attention to you, the kind of person that truly seeks connection with those around him and when someone talks, he listens with all his body.
You tried to keep those pros in your mind, but more often than not you caught yourself pondering if it was still worth the headache after all those years, like right now.
You promised yourself you’d come to this stupid five-year college reunion, because otherwise San’d whine about it for a whole month, like you not coming would make him lonely somehow, like that was even a possibility.
Then, it started.
It always does one way or another.
This time was a “innocent joke” about how you glued yourself to San back in the day. They all laughed including yourself, you did not want to make a scene, you never do.
Then there was the stares at the two of you sitting beside each other. That was the funniest part for them, the simple thought that you could still have some hope for something to happen between the two of you to this day and age was hysterical. You could tell since the very start of your friendship what those people thought about you and what your place should be.
Maybe if you ever felt anything towards San in that way, it’d hurt you deeply, but you didn’t and still don’t, so it just pisses you off to no end. However, you don’t have the courage to bring it up and perhaps you should’ve done then, but now you barely see any of them, so what is it one more day?
“You’re good?”, he leaned towards you and his hands caressed your lower arm like it was second nature to him.
You nodded, then whispered as you grabbed your purse, “I’ll be back in a minute”.
It was a long walk to the nearest bathroom, outside of the gymnasium, long enough to calm yourself down and to think clearly.
All the while San was downing a drink after the other, laughing at something he barely heard from across the big table of 9 he was in. Red in the face, coughing like crazy in the middle of the chaos, he did not see you walking up to him.
“What?”, he asked the third time, leaning in to hear his friend better.
“Just admit it already, do you like her, don’t you?”
It took him a few seconds to figure it out what that was about, then a flash of you came into his mind and the recognition on his face was clear to them all. He sobered up quick and sat upright, putting his body weight on top of the table.
You don’t hear what the answer was and you don’t need to. Their laughter, his laughter, echoed in between the song change.
So maybe he wasn’t that innocent after all.
Taglist: @h3arteyes4mingi
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